Deathless Love (11 page)

Dom took her home and made love to her without any spanking, which may not have been as hot as usual, but actually was just what she needed. He held her until she fell asleep, and then must have left the bed, because she remembered waking to him crawling in again around 5 AM.

When she woke the next morning around 10 AM, she found that her motivation and focus for her proposal was still sharp, and she sat down without even showering or eating and worked for two hours straight. It was only the thought of Dom waking and finding her with stinky breath and bedhead that made her tear herself away and get herself cleaned up and fed.

She heard the bathroom door open while she was in the shower, and then Dom came in, naked and erect, his fangs extended. She smiled her welcome and he reached for her, stroking his hands all over her, running a sharp fang along her ear, down her neck.

“
Buon giorno,”
he murmured in her ear.

“
Buon giorno
.” The accent sounded flat in her voice and she giggled. He kissed her deeply with his hands still roaming, then crouched down to apply his experienced tongue between her legs. She gasped, taking hold of his head with her hands. It felt amazing, but she was slow to orgasm in the mornings—her body was just too relaxed from sleeping or something.

Dom didn't seem impatient, though. He used his fingers and his tongue until she was backed up against the shower wall, gasping. When she finally came, he struck her femoral artery with his fangs and drank, still working his fingers deep inside her, on her g-spot. The bite shocked her, sending a jolt of adrenaline through her body as she watched him with wide eyes. He licked the wounds closed and came up, a little of her blood still on his lips. She swallowed, closing her eyes for a moment. She really wasn't that good with seeing blood.

“I'm sorry that frightened you,
cara mia
,” Dom said, stroking her cheek.

She opened her eyes. The blood had washed off his lips. She started to deny that it had scared her, but remembered that he could sense her feelings. She shrugged instead. “I didn't know you could bite there,” she said lamely.

“I won't if you don't like it. I just thought your neck might be getting tired of my fangs.”

“Um, yeah.” She rubbed her neck. “I think I prefer the neck, but I could get used to it. It just startled me, that's all.” She willed her legs to stop shaking.

“Are you finished in here?” Dom asked gently. She nodded and he turned the water off and stepped out, pulling a towel off the hook and holding it open for her. “How's your proposal today? Are you just now getting up?”

“No, I've already worked for a couple of hours. It's going well. You're going to get that blow job tonight for sure.” She beamed at him and he laughed and pulled her in for a kiss.

* * *

Keeping his hands off Kate was an impossibility, it seemed. Not that she seemed to mind. It felt amazing to just give in to his desire and be with her fully, turning a deaf ear to the warning bells going off in the back of his head. She was like an addiction—the more he was with her, the more he needed her. And it wasn't just sexually, although that was the best expression of his feelings. He just liked her energy—being near her, watching her laugh or smile or bite her lip when she was worried. He loved taking care of her. Her emotions were all so big—he'd felt it so strongly when he'd made her happy the night before by telling the bouncer Matt that she was his girl. It had been such an easy thing to do. Yet he knew each step he took down that path would make it harder to end this thing. This thing he didn't really want to end.

He left her to her work and she again did not stir from her laptop for several hours, until at last, she slapped the cover of her laptop down and exclaimed triumphantly, “Done!”

“Congratulations,” he said. “I guess that means I can't keep you trapped here as my sex slave anymore?”

She beamed at him. He looked at his watch. Six o'clock—still too early to go out. “What else did you have going on this weekend?”

“Nothing,” she shrugged. “Just getting this paper finished.”

“Okay, how does this sound… as you've probably noticed, we need groceries. Would you take my car and run to the grocery? And then when you get back I'll take you out to dinner to celebrate.”

Kate jumped up. “Sounds great! I need to stop in and feed my kitty anyway. What do you need?”

He, Stella, and Fox kept a running list on the side of the fridge so that whoever had a chance to run errands (usually Fox) could easily grab it, so he handed it to her now along with the keys and cash. “See you in a bit.”

When she had returned, she was wearing a sassy babydoll dress and kitten heeled sandals. “You look great,” he said, taking the groceries from her as soon as she came through the second set of double doors.

She flushed a little. “I wasn't sure where we were going and I didn't want to look like a slob.”

“I was thinking Italian.”

“Yum.”

He set the groceries down on the counter. “Are there more bags?” He checked his watch to see if the sun had set yet.

“It's still a little light out. Don’t worry, I’ll grab them. Besides, I don't know where things go here yet.”

He could feel a little shiver of daring emanate from her at her use of the word
yet
and it made him smile.

She was a little nervous at the restaurant, so he ordered a bottle of expensive wine and enjoyed the feel of her relaxing more and more into the moment as she sipped. As if reminded of their last dinner date, she started quizzing him.

“So, when did you come to the U.S.?”

“In 1858. Fox and I came together from England and settled in Chicago. Stella joined us five years later.”

She looked confused. “But I thought you and Stella were together a long time before that.”

“We were. And then we split up and went our separate ways for a hundred years or so. She found me in the States by accident, and it was easy to band together again. Just as friends,” he added hastily.

“How did you actually get over here from Europe?”

“In the bottom of a ship. Fox wasn't a vampire back then, so he took care of me—made sure I was safe from the light and that I had everything I needed.”

She frowned. “You knew Fox before he was a vampire?”

He nodded. “I've known Fox since he was nine years old. I found him on the streets of London. He tried to steal my coin purse so I took him home and fed him. You might say I raised him, except that he was already mostly grown up at that point. He'd been on the streets more or less his whole life.”

Kate looked at him with big eyes. “He never told me any of that. But it explains a lot.”

“Like what?”

“I don't know,” she smirked. “You're still his daddy in some ways.”

He raised his eyebrows, but knew she was right. As much as he'd tried to foster Fox's emotional independence, there was a neediness there that still showed up at times.

“But wait… you said you've never turned anyone. Who turned Fox?”

“Stella.” He couldn't keep the hard note out of his voice. It had been a source of contention between them since the day she had turned Fox.

Kate had raised her eyebrows, waiting for more. He shrugged. “Fox wanted it. I didn't want it for him. Stella gave him what he wanted.”

“Why didn't you want it for him?”

He pressed his lips together. “It's a curse,
bambina
.”

She stared at him for a long moment and he willed her not to ask more. She took the hint. “So what did you do in Chicago?”

“I owned a few taverns, and then during prohibition I owned a piece of every speakeasy in town.”

“I thought the Chicago speakeasies were run by Italian mafia. Oh!” she said, clapping her hand over her mouth.

His lips curled into a smile. Once again, he was impressed with her knowledge of history. “How do you think the mafia got so powerful? Vampires can make a lot happen on the seedy side of business.”

“Is that where you killed people?”

He shook his head at her. “Don't ask questions you don't want to hear the answers to,
cara mia.
”

“I didn't.”

He felt hurt from her and cursed inwardly at how sensitive she was. He tried to explain. “The answer is yes. Among other places. But I've tried to leave that way of living behind me. And it may be what you want to know, but I don't especially w
ant you thinking of me that way,” he admitted.

She softened at that. “Okay. I can understand that. But it doesn't make me think less of you.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You think it makes me exciting.”

She took offense. “No I don't.” Her face had flushed.

“The truth, Kate.”

She took some bread from the bread basket and dipped it in the olive oil and balsamic vinegar he had poured onto a plate for them both.

“Yeah, maybe.” She shrugged. “So what?”

He shrugged himself. “I don't know. I don't like it. I guess because I don't want to be that person.”

“Well, okay, you're not that person anymore. But it's what's made you who you are today. Right? So if it turns me on, well… you could just go with it, couldn't you?”

He couldn't help but smile at that. He helped himself to the bread. It was warm and melted in his mouth—a delicious sour dough. “Mmm, this is good, isn't it?”

“I know,” Kate said, reaching for another piece. “I shouldn't have it, but I just can't help myself.”

“Why shouldn't you have it?”

“I have a wheat allergy. I break out in a rash on my neck and chest if I eat it too many days in a row.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “So why do you eat it?”

She shrugged. “It tastes good.”

He took a sip of wine and considered. He had taken on a dominant role with her, which she obviously liked. And though he questioned its ultimate benefit to her, there were ways to use it to help her.

“Is this something you'd like help with?”

She looked up in surprise, and he felt a little thrill of fear come off her. She knew what he meant, then. “I guess so,” she said, sounding a little nervous.

“Okay,” he said, pulling her bread plate away from her. “Here are the rules: no more wheat. If you decide something's really worth eating, which I'm sure will happen, you have to text or call me first and explain to me why it's worth it. You don't have to wait for my permission if I'm not around, but you do have to provide the explanation in advance. Does that make sense?”

She smiled and nodded at him and strangely, he could feel a rush of love pouring out of her. Just then their waiter appeared to take their order and Kate suddenly scrambled to open her menu again, mumbling, “Well, I was going to get the penne pasta, but I don't think it's worth it…”

“Do you want another few minutes?” the waiter asked.

“Please,” he said. “And will you take the bread away?”

“Of course, sir,” the waiter said smoothly and glided off with the bread basket in hand.

Kate chose something else and closed her menu again.

“Would it bother you if I ordered the penne?” he asked.

“Of course not!” she assured him.

“Great. So back to the rules. If you eat something with wheat in it without prior explanation, you must come to me and let me know. And then I'll put you over my knee and spank you soundly.”

She turned a little pink at that and he saw her eyes dart around the room, as if to make sure no one overheard.

“If you eat wheat and you
don't
tell me…then you'll get spanked with my belt.” He sat back in his chair then and watched as she flushed a deep red.
Adorable.

She caught him trying to hide his smirk and laughed at herself. He felt another rush of love pour from her. “Dom, why do you think I'm like this?” she asked, sobering.

He shook his head. “Don't go there,
cara
. It's a quirk, that's all. There's nothing wrong with you. I would guess that a pretty large percentage of women have the same quirk.”

“Really?” she said doubtfully. “I've always wondered, you know,
why
.” She leaned forward to say in a low voice, “I sometimes can't get turned on or orgasm during sex without thinking about it.”

“So? Be happy you know that about yourself. Some women have never orgasmed at all and can't figure out why not.”

“True,” she said doubtfully. “So what is your experience with it, really?”

He smiled slowly. “Vampires have a lot of sex—more than mortals. I guess originally it was because we were so separated from religion that we were the only ones who were uninhibited. Now our sex lives probably aren't so shockingly different from those of many mortals.”

“And…?”

“Well, when you've had that much sex, you've pretty much tried it every way. I got my personal experience caning women in Victorian England. You wouldn't believe the kinds of things they were into.”

She leaned forward eagerly. “Like what?”

He grinned. “Have you ever heard of using a piece of ginger as a butt plug?”

“Shut. Up.”

“It's true. Add a little caning to that and you've got the true Victorian S & M experience.”

“Whoa.”

The waiter returned and Kate ordered a steak, cooked to medium. He ordered the penne pasta himself.

“They make excellent authentic Italian food here,” he said.

“Do they? You would know, wouldn't you? I suppose you know how to make it all.”

He laughed at that. “No,
cara mia
. Men didn't cook when I lived in Italy.”

“Oh. Right.” She blushed. “What does
cara mia
mean—'my dear'?”

“That's right.”

Their food arrived, then and they began eating with enthusiasm.

“Dom,” she started shyly.

“Yes?”

“Where did you get your blood from, before me?”

He hesitated. It was another question he'd prefer not to answer. “I hypnotized women at the club,” he said at last, pulling on his earlobe.

“So they didn't know you'd bitten them?”

He nodded. He didn't feel any strong emotion coming from her. Neither revulsion, nor anger.

“Always women?”

He nodded.