Darkness In The Flames (59 page)

“Well-named?”

She licked her lips. “There would appear to be a supple tree growing from you.” A hand reached beneath the surface and stroked his cock. “Yes, indeed. This is no twig, but a full trunk. You are, as I said, well-named.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Rowan fought for control. He would not surrender lightly to this—this pleasure. Women did not behave like this, only whores.

And yet something about her made Rowan positive she was no whore. A courtesan, perhaps? A mistress?

Boldly he reached for her pussy, cupping her, fondling her carefully, watching for her reaction.

It was immediate. She sighed and parted her thighs, allowing him access to her cool folds. “And are
you
well-named, sweetheart?” Rowan slid his fingers around her pussy lips, watching as she smiled and sighed at his treatment.

Her black gaze drifted to his face. “I do not know. I am Thérèse…” The name drifted softly between them as he found her clit and gently coaxed it into hardness. “And I like what you are doing to me, Rowan.” Her breasts moved with the water, breaking the surface as she slithered closer. “Do more.”

Taut nipples begged for his mouth and he obliged, suckling one deeply, tonguing it to a ripe blush. She tasted—exotic, different and exciting. Rowan was fast losing himself in the entire experience.

He pulled back a little, aware of this woman and his need for her, but feeling the restraints of his conventional background. “I want you. I want to fuck you. To have you crying out my name, coming for me—around me. Tell me that you share this…this madness that has stolen my mind…”

Her white hands reached for his cock once more, grasping it firmly as she slid onto his lap. She rubbed the swollen head against her folds and moaned. “Yes, Rowan. Oh yes I want you too.”

Still he was cautious. “I have to inquire—should I expect a bill? Or a visit from a jealous husband?”

She laughed, throwing her head back and letting the sound free to echo into the night air. “No, my careful Rowan. I do this because—because I
love
to. I love to fuck. Here, in the water, on the smooth stones there—any way at all. It is the ultimate sensation, Rowan. The moment when a woman and a man share all that there is to be shared between them.”

She toyed with his nipple, scratching it gently with a fingernail then kissing it quickly. “I like the feel of a man’s body against mine. The fullness when his cock enters me. I like fucking any way at all—any way there is. It makes me—oh, how can I tell you? It just makes me—
feel alive
.”

Rowan agreed. He felt more than alive with this woman so near. He felt energized, thrumming with desire, with lust to fill her sheath, to explore her limits and push her past them.

He reached for her then, an abrupt tug that brought their bodies clashing against each other. He pushed her legs wide and found the slick entrance to her body, plunging deep without further ado.

She moaned as he stretched her, his length burying itself within her like a sword into its scabbard. Her inner muscles clung to him, tugging the soft skin as he moved, letting the water serve as their rhythm for the moment. There would be a savage claiming, he knew, but at this point he was simply enjoying their unity.

“You feel so good inside me.” Black eyes gazed solemnly at him. “You fill me so well.” She went to rise up, but he held her in place.

“No, don’t move. Not yet. Let me relish you, savor you.  Squeeze me, Thérèse. Love me with that slick darkness. ‘Twill arouse you as much as it will me, I promise.”

She tilted her head to the side and obeyed him, experimentally tightening her muscles then laughing as the sensation traveled through them both. “Oh my goodness, Rowan. This is—
interesting
.”

He smiled back, fascinated at the simple joy he could see on her face. “It is, is it not?”

She was almost childlike in her fascination with this sensation, experimenting with various combinations of moves, rippling her inner muscles, finding her own individual preference and sighing as the pleasure grew. “How—how
unique
.” Her lips parted. “Oh—oh—
Rowan
. I think I’m going to
come
—”

“Then come. Let it happen.”

He held her as the spasms rocked her, gentle but strong, sending delight down his cock still hard within her.

Her lips parted on a sigh and she blinked, almost in astonishment.

Rowan watched her. “Have you never come before, Thérèse?”

“Oh yes, I have come. Many times.” She seemed stunned. “But never quite like this.” Buttocks shifted on his lap. “And you have not. You are still aroused. How can this be?”

He grinned then, enjoying her confusion. “I like to take my time. To enjoy a woman’s pleasure to the fullest.”

“’Tis strange. I have come and yet I still have not sated my desires. I still tremble, still feel your cock, still want…”

“What?” He caressed her breasts, noting her shivers. “What do you want, my sweet? Tell me…tell me all there is to know about you.”

“I-I cannot.” Her sheath gripped him once more. “I can only fuck…”

“Not true.” He kissed her, a lingering kiss that melded tongues and strange tastes that excited him. “There are shadows in your eyes. Secrets in your heart.”

He lifted his hips a little, seating his cock in a slightly different position, noting her gasp of pleasure. “We are joined, linked even closer by our sex. I would share more… I would know more. You are…”

“I am what?”

“Special.” Rowan inhaled her, knowing he spoke no less than the truth. This woman had come from nowhere into his world and the first moment he set eyes on her he was certain nothing would ever be the same.

“Do you think so?” The black eyes opened wide and stared intently at him.

“I know so.” His hands found her breasts once more. “These—are beautiful. Round, full, womanly—see how they fit into my hands? How the nipples are responding even now to my touch?”

He strummed the tiny beads as he lifted the white globes in his palms. “You react to my every movement, Thérèse, like an instrument in the hands of a musician. Just as I react to your body in the same way. Can you not feel it?”

“Yes…yes, I feel it, Rowan. But usually…”

“Usually what?” His words came out more sharply than he intended. He was not happy to know there had been others before him, but wasn’t quite sure why. Of course he wasn’t her first. No woman with her sensuality could be untouched.

“I am not—
accustomed
to such restraint from men.”

At that moment, Rowan promised himself that she would know what restraint was. At least from him.

He loved her again and again, with hands and mouth, fucking her gently, bringing her to her peak, letting her experience as many orgasms as she wished. Incredibly, his fascination with her distracted him enough that he could hold his own climax in check—waiting, always waiting—until the heat between them grew too much for even his sexual skills.

Panting, they stared at each other. “I can wait no longer, my red-haired wanton.” Rowan choked out the words. “I need to come now. Inside you. Deep inside you. I want to fill you with me and drive the thoughts of any other men from your heart. From your soul if such a thing is possible.”

“If only it were possible.” She sighed. “End it, Rowan. I cannot think, cannot see, can do naught but feel…feel
you
.”

He lifted her from the waters and laid her gently on the tumble of clothes next to the pool. She was supple and limber, wet with her juices streaming from her pussy, relaxed from her orgasms and ready to accept him once again.

Even then, Rowan wanted to prolong the moment. He pushed her arms high above her head, leaving them outspread. Her breasts thrust up toward him and he settled himself, pushing her thighs apart and bending her legs at the knees.

She was wide open—revealed in her splendor—ready to accept him as he claimed her and reached the ultimate peak.

Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his body, cock to pussy. He watched himself as he began the slow slide to heaven, her cool moisture bathing his boiling cock. There was nothing to bar his passage, just the easy slick welcome of a woman’s sheath that hungered for him and a completion that even now was thundering in his brain and his balls.

He thrust, a deep plunge that startled a groan from them both.

“Ahh, Rowan. How good this feels.” Her hips lifted to accommodate him. “How perfectly your cock fills me.”

“Yes…” Rowan’s words were drying up as he moved, quicker now, picking up the pace, finding a rhythm that corresponded to her movements and satisfied his own desires.

“Thank you, my dear Rowan.” It was a whisper that surprised him.

“Thank me in a minute or two…” He was drowning, losing himself as the heat that had lurked in his spine exploded into an onrush of sensation. “I’m coming, Thérèse…”

“I know.”

Her loins began to move in a matching tempo as Rowan’s balls erupted, sending floods of his come down the short distance to their ultimate goal. He lifted his head and watched her eyes, a tiny part of his brain surprised at the sadness he saw there.

“And I’m almost sorry for what I must do.”

Chapter Three

“She bit you.” Marcus spoke the words quietly, noting the emotions that had chased themselves across Rowan’s face as he told his tale.

The other man nodded. “Yes, she bit me. We climaxed and I felt her fangs sink into the skin of my throat, felt her drink. She drew my soul from me in the same way she drew my semen from my balls.” He frowned. “But moments later she forced me to drink from
her
.”

“How?”

“I-I’m not sure. I think she tore her own wrist—held it to my lips—it’s a blur, Marcus. I know I tasted her—
really
tasted her. I felt her orgasm as if it were my own. I felt her pain and her pleasure and her anger. There was an overwhelming, crushing sadness, lightened only by the physical delight we shared. And I felt her hunger. A dark savage hunger. I can’t explain it…” He took a shuddering breath. “There are no words adequate to really express those things.”

Marcus nodded. “Very well. Let that go for the time being. Tell me of the time since…since Thérèse—what you’ve experienced…” He would know as much as he could, he decided. The more Rowan shared, the better armed Marcus would be.

He
liked
Rowan, more than he cared to admit even to himself. The luxury of friendships was something he’d been denying himself. He didn’t have the time or the desire to open the door to his affections and consequently face the pain of losing someone. Marcus had been too busy losing himself.

But that had changed with Rowan’s arrival into his life. Something about the man stirred him, awakened a part of him he thought he’d buried. A desire to live, perhaps, or a knowledge that there was still something worth living
for
.

It was a mixed blessing, indeed. And Marcus wasn’t sure he was exactly thrilled with it.

But nevertheless it had happened. If he could help Rowan in any way, he would. Knowledge, in Marcus’ experience, was always a first step—a first weapon to take up.

“Since Thérèse?” Rowan’s lips curled wryly. “There has been nothing for me since Thérèse.” He glanced up. “Until tonight. Until we met. For the last couple of years I have idled my way through what is now my existence. I shun the daylight for obvious reasons, have learned how to feed without killing—I could not kill, Marcus. I would have you know that.”

Marcus nodded. “You need not say it. ‘Tis writ clearly on your face, Rowan.”

“Thank you for that.” Rowan sighed. “I have done what I needed to do and also done what I wanted to do. But nothing fills the emptiness inside me. Only the nights when she comes to me…”

“She comes to you?”

“In dreams.”

The black eyes might have been mysterious, but Marcus could see the pain lingering in them as their gazes met. “Every night?”

“No, not every night.” Rowan shrugged. “When the mood takes her, I suppose. Or when she feels the need for what I can offer.”

“What is that?”

Rowan shook his head. “I don’t know, Marcus. I fuck her, of course. In dreams. In visions of sensual delights and depravities. I’ve shared her with other men and other women. I’ve done things, seen things—I can’t even describe what my dreams have entailed.” He paused. “And yet—”

Marcus waited patiently.

“And yet I still—yearn for her. I still want her. Every night if she’d come to me. I’d take her on her terms, on any terms at all, just so that I could be with her.” Rowan looked up then, anguish in his expression. “Does that make any sense at all or am I completely mad?”

Marcus smiled gently. “You’re not mad, Rowan.” He noted the relief that crossed the other man’s eyes. “You’re in
love
.”

*~*~*~*

Could it be true?

Was he in love with Thérèse? And if so, what sort of a monster did that make
him
that he could love such a creature?

Rowan’s thoughts were troubled as he readied himself for bed. A sound outside the house had disturbed their discourse and Marcus had taken a quick look at the clock, confirming what Rowan already knew.

Dawn was approaching.

There was no question of Rowan leaving now, it was too close to sunrise. So he’d gladly accepted Marcus’ offer of a room, pleased to find it dark and heavily draped. It surprised him, this trust he felt, the comfort he took from a man he’d known such a short time.

And yet they shared much that others would not understand. Perhaps it was just the natural course of things, the alignment of two lost souls. And the mutual exchange of matters undisclosed to the rest of the world.

Rowan shrugged and lay beneath the covers, stretching and yawning as his body found the best position. This rest would be like all the others—a tiny death, a cessation of his body’s functions. He would not wake until the sun set, nor would he betray by a flicker that he was alive.