His Ruthless Bite | Historical Paranormal Romance: Vampires (Scandals With Bite Book 4) (29 page)

Gavin lifted his hips and poised the tip of his length against her entrance. “Are you certain?”

Lenore stared into his black eyes for what felt like an eternity, overwhelmed by his caring. “You won’t hurt me,” she said with absolute confidence.

Something softened in his gaze. “Stop me if I do.”

Slowly, he entered her, filling her with a lush, consuming sensation that took her breath away. This was no savage, tearing invasion. This was a loving joining that almost felt sacred. Each centimeter invoked a new sensation as she tightened around him and her body ached for more.

When at last he was fully inside her, Gavin released a breath in tandem with her own. Instead of pounding into her like she was an object to be subjected to his aggression, he remained still and leaned forward, looking deep into her eyes as if trying to communicate with her soul.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered and wrapped her arms and legs around him, seating him even deeper before she pulled him down for another kiss.

As his lips moved over hers, their hips arched in a slow, tantalizing rhythm that replaced the ache with an intoxicating heat. Lenore clung to him tighter still, moving against him, feeling his heart pounding against hers as their breath quickened.

Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the feel of him moving inside her, the way their bodies moved in tandem like an age old dance. They were one now, flesh united, creating something that only they could experience. Something powerful… magical… ethereal.

Gavin’s thrusts increased slightly in tempo, reaching a place deep inside that came alive with electric frissons that pulsed and grew. Lenore reached for it, clasping him tighter, arching upward, searching for more.

And then it happened. Gavin thrust deeper still, and her center erupted, pulsing and tingling until white light flashed beneath her eyelids. She shuddered beneath him, her entire being flaring with life and heat.

Gavin let out a low groan, his shaft quivering inside her with his release, multiplying her own. Lenore dug her nails into his back, crying out in incoherent bliss.

The intensity ebbed away, replaced by a languid contentment she could have never fathomed.

Gavin collapsed atop her, his heart pounding against hers, their heated skin radiating drowsy satiety. He nuzzled against her neck, still breathing raggedly. “My God,” he gasped.

Lenore hummed in agreement. “Is it always like this?”

She immediately regretted her words as it brought back the realization that he’d done this with others. Still, she was glad to have experienced this wonder as well.

“No,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “This was… different… and incredible.”

Her heart bloomed with elation. Somehow, with her lack of experience and crippling past, she’d become something special to him.

“How was it for you?” he asked almost worriedly.

“Wonderful.” She held him tighter, reluctant for the moment when their bodies would part. “I…”
Love you,
she almost said. “Th-thank you.”

He kissed her long and lingering before rolling over onto his back with a satisfied hum and pulled her close. A sudden weariness weighted her body as he stroked her back. The sun had risen, but they were safe, cocooned in the darkness of his bedchamber, husband and wife in truth.

As she rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes, she knew that this day, there would be no bad dreams. Because Gavin was there to protect her.

Gavin awoke with the most satisfied smile ever to cross his face. Lenore remained tucked under his arm, looking relaxed and sated. Not wanting to wake her yet, he was content to just look at her. She was so small and fragile in appearance, yet capable of such courage, strength, and will. Even the will to defy him.

His grin broadened. Instead of punishing her, somehow he’d found himself feeling guilty for enjoying her taste so damned much that he offered his own vein… for the second time. Ever since he’d first met her, he had an irrefutable urge to protect her. Even from himself, it seemed.

Lenore’s lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes and gave him a sleepy smile.

His heart stuttered. Never before had a woman affected him so deeply. Was it love? He’d been infatuated a time or two, but he’d never fallen in love. But as she reached forward to brush a stray curl from his face, he knew he wanted to wake up to her every night.

“Good evening,” she said softly, the covers slipping from her shoulder to reveal one perfect breast. “What are your plans for the evening?”

He leaned forward and claimed her lips in a kiss that radiated warmth all the way down to his toes. “Cecil and Benson will be here around midnight to discuss a new strategy for hunting down the rogues. And then of course we need to patrol. You will stay here and Elena will come to watch over you.” When she smiled, he tapped her on the nose with a scolding finger. “You are still being punished, so be sure to appear humbled and repentant.” He growled as she grinned. “That means stop smiling.”

“But it’s hard not to smile when you’ve made me so happy.” She laid her head on his chest, snuggling against him.

He fought the urge to smile back. “I am being serious. You are not to go anywhere without supervision until these rogues are found and people in the village stop talking about the existence of vampires.”

She stiffened and raised her head. A thousand thoughts seemed to flicker in the depths of her dark eyes before she gave him a solemn nod. “Yes, my lord.” Her voice rang with painful humility. “And I truly am sorry for disobeying you. I had little regard for the danger. I did try to rectify some of that when I stole away and told Dr. Elliotson and two of the village women goodbye.”

He cocked his head to the side, his grip tightening on her arms. “What do you mean?”

Her lips curled up in a satisfied smile. “I convinced the two biggest gossips in the village that they’d seen me during the day.”

For a moment all he could do was stare. “How?”

“When we feed on humans, we can see their memories.” When he nodded, she continued. “So after I fed, I kept them in the mesmeric trance and placed images of myself in their memories.”

Gavin’s jaw dropped as he digested the implications of her words. “You gave them false memories? That is… brilliant.” He would have to discuss it with his people. This was something they all should do.

Then he frowned. Could any vampire do such a thing? Or was it an ability unique to Lenore? He would have to find out. And most certainly discuss her tactic with Cecil and Benson.

“Is anything wrong?” Lenore asked worriedly.

He shook his head. “No. You’ve only given me much to think about, that is all.” Reaching forward, he cupped her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “Wit and beauty. What more could I ask for in a bride?”

She blushed a delightful pink. “Obedience, perhaps.”

“Yes, that reminds me of your punishment.” He lowered the coverlet and devoured her body with his eyes. “Perhaps I should keep you confined to this bed.”

Her blush deepened, but her eyes took on a wicked gleam as she slid her hand down to wrap around his erect shaft, making him gasp. “That sounds like
such
a hardship.”

His hands slid down to do some exploring of his own before he pulled her close to him and melded his mouth to hers.

After another invigorating bout of lovemaking, he assisted her in dressing in a pretty peach confection that set off her blushes quite nicely. They then set out on Edgar’s back to seek their meal.

“I think we should call upon Lord and Lady Chatterton,” he whispered against her neck, reveling in the way she shivered in his arms. “Her gossip could be very inconvenient for us if we do not act.”

Lenore cringed in revulsion at the prospect of meeting with the odious woman, but nodded in reluctant resolve. “Which of us shall bite her?”

“Perhaps we should draw lots.” He nipped her ear, turning her laughter into a gasp.

In the end, Lenore claimed the dubious honor when Lady Chatterton led her off alone to the hothouse to show off her prized roses, while Gavin feasted on Lord Chatterton when they shared a cigar. Gavin did his best to persuade the viscount that they’d hunted fox only last week. He hoped the implanted memory was effective.

Lenore appeared to be more confident when they reunited and bade their farewells.

By the time they returned home, it was a quarter to midnight. To Gavin’s surprise, Benson was already waiting for them in the library, his face pale as if he hadn’t fed in several nights. At first Gavin thought his second’s haggard appearance was due to his near fatal attack from the rogue, but then Benson spoke.

“Cecil is dead.” The vampire’s voice was hollow with shock and grief.

The floor seemed to drop beneath Gavin’s feet and he nearly collapsed. “What?” Agony and fury warred within him until a roar tore from his throat. “I’m going to tear those bloody rogues limb from limb.”

Benson shook his head, his eyes wide with unadulterated terror. “It wasn’t the rogues. It was a Hunter.”

Shock and terror struck Gavin like a musket blast. On legs that felt like custard, he shambled to a chair and sat down hard. “A Hunter?” he repeated like a babbling half-wit. “How do you know?”

Benson shivered before answering. “When he did not arrive at our arranged meeting place for patrol, I went to his home. He wasn’t there, so I checked the root cellar out back where he spends his day rest. The door was splintered open and his bed stained with blood.” The whites of his eyes stood out in stark clarity. “I followed the trail and came upon a section of burnt grass that matched the length of his body perfectly.” Tears spilled down his cheeks and he wiped them away with his sleeve. “In the center, a charred stake was driven into the ground.”

“My God,” Gavin breathed past the lump in his throat. For a long time he couldn’t grasp any rational thought as his world spiraled out of control. Gripping the arms of his chair until the wood cracked beneath the baize, he finally managed to speak. “We must gather the others, warn them.”

Benson nodded, looking spent and numb.

“My lady wife must not remain alone, not with a Hunter prowling about.” Not to mention the fact that she was already under restrictive supervision.

Only then did he remember that Lenore was in the room and had heard everything. He looked over at her. She remained where she’d first stood, just inside the entrance to the library. Her face had gone chalk-white and she shook like a frightened rabbit. Gavin cursed inwardly. Another of her episodes.

Her maker had been slain by a Hunter. He remembered that now. Slowly Gavin rose on weakened legs and crossed the room to take her into his arms, wanting nothing more than to soothe and protect her. Her shaking eased to a light tremor as he stroked her hair.

“It’s going to be all right,” he whispered, trying to comfort her. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

“But what about you?” she choked out a sob. “It’s all my fault. I put everyone in danger!”

“You did no such thing,” he told her sharply, guilt strangling him. He’d certainly made it sound that way earlier. “The fault is mine for keeping you ignorant.”

And Lenore hadn’t forgotten that. “But if I hadn’t continued my work with Dr. Elliotson…”

“His Lordship is right,” Benson interjected. “You did not cause this. We found the vampire literature before your eccentric friend started your odd little public meetings.”

Lenore’s gaze darted to Gavin’s second. “You did?”

“Yes.” Benson assured her. “Now I wonder if the Hunter was the one spreading the literature about in the first place.”

Gavin shook his head slowly. It was the most logical explanation… yet it did not feel right. “I can’t explain it, but I still think the rogues are involved.”

“Why?” Benson’s voice rang with disbelief. “With their constant movement, they’d be the most vulnerable. Hell, maybe if we’re lucky, the Hunter already eliminated them.” He shrugged. “Did our work for us.”

“It’s only a feeling I have… and a strand of hair I found upon the rogue who attacked you the other night.”

“A hair?” Benson raised a brow as if Gavin spoke in riddles.

“Long and red,” Gavin admitted, hoping his omission hadn’t caused Cecil’s death.

“Lots of harlots have long red hair,” Benson countered almost too sharply, as if in denial. “And those would be the easiest meal for their ilk.”

“No,
dark
red,” Gavin clarified. “Like it hadn’t been exposed to the sun in years.

Benson’s shoulders slumped even as his gaze still flashed with denial. “Justus?”

“Who is Justus?” Lenore asked.

Benson ignored her, still wide-eyed with disbelief. “But why would he do such a foolish thing?”

“Revenge,” Gavin said quietly, drowning in old memories.

“You showed him mercy! You allowed him to live!” Benson argued, slamming his fist on the arm of his chair. “He should be grateful you didn’t take his head!”

“Yes, but since he feels that I took away the love of his life, I doubt he has little thanks to offer for my lenience.” Gavin sighed, regret weighting his heart. “Still, you may be correct. Luring a Hunter is too dangerous and foolish for his usual cold reasoning. He was the most clever of us.”