The Tale of the Vampire Bride (43 page)

“I am already your lover,” was his taunting response.

“Then I am truly a wanton woman,” I decided as his mouth deliciously tormented my neck with small, shallow bites.

“And would you deny me if I did not tell you my name?” His voice was teasing and his eyes keen.

I shoved him over onto his back and straddled him, my long hair falling around him. He gazed up at me calmly, his hands resting lightly on my waist. I pondered for a moment, and then frowned at him. “You should not know me thus! We have only met.”

“And yet,” he said.

“And yet,” I answered.

We kissed once more and suddenly names were of no consequence. We were mad and the madness was grand. It was as consuming as any vampire emotion may be, fierce and unfettered.

Ridding ourselves of the rest of our clothes, we relished the feel of skin against skin. I wrapped myself around him, legs and arms all tangled in his, and feasted on his deep kisses with wondrous pleasure. My fingers traced the lines of his masculine body, then rose to brush softly over the contours of his face. I was mesmerized by him and impassioned by his sensuous kisses.

This is what it must be to truly make love.

My arms cradled his head and my fingers tangled in his hair when he kissed my breasts. The sunlight was a pale stroke against the stone countenance of the mausoleum, but I was not afraid. We were sheltered in the shadows, hidden from the world.

His body was heavy and firm against mine and when his tongue and lips brushed over the tips of my breasts, a deep moan fell from my lips as I closed my eyes in rapture.

Despite our acute need for each other, despite our wild writhing, he was gentle. Not once did I feel overpowered, but his equal. When I gripped him firmly with my hand, his rewarding kiss made my legs curl and the world spin.

We were impassioned lovers and our fangs drew blood as we explored each other’s pale, cool bodies in the pool of darkness in the crypt. Thick, heavy, wanting, I could feel his manhood resting against my thigh as my fingers stroked him, yet he did not force himself on me.

I loved him all the more for that.

It was not until he had me beyond the edges of my senses and I pleaded with him did he enter me and make our union complete. Wrapping my legs around him, I rocked him deep within me, holding his gaze with my own. His long raven locks swayed against my check and I raised one hand to his lips. Softly, he kissed my fingertips, then lowered himself to kiss me with fervent ardor.

Skin against skin, his limbs tangled with mine, our bodies locked together in a sacred union. It was perfect. He was thick and hard within me and never had I felt such pleasure. I tossed back my head and he bit my neck lightly. It was as though the world spun around me, and my body drowned in the vibrant pleasure of his lovemaking.

Never had I felt such extreme voluptuousness of senses and yet his body continued to ride mine. My back arched as my nails drew hard down his back. His mouth still pressed against my throat while I whispered to him, begged him, to bite once more.

Pulling me up with him, he sat back on his heels and held me tightly against his chest. Nuzzling my neck, he drew my body in sensuous movement against his. My hair fell about him, covering him, but he did not mind it. In fact, he seemed to relish the feel of it against his skin. Then his bite came, sharp and beautiful and I was lost to all reason.

I admit, I am but a novice lover, but he transcended all I had dreamed of. Continuously, he drew me high upon a mountain of luxurious pleasure then drove me into the depths of blinding sensation. I returned his bites and our kisses were at times quite bloody. At last, when I felt that my body had reached the pinnacle of its sensation, he gripped my legs tightly around him and pressed firmly into me.

I had the wildest thought in that instant, when I felt the cool rush of his seed filling me. If he were my husband, and I his wife, and we still breathed and lived as mortals, perhaps our child would be conceived in this moment.

Tears came to my eyes as he kissed me softly. I wrapped my arms around his neck and clung to him. The fever broken between us, we slowly kissed and stroked each other’s flesh, our bodies still locked together.

Brushing my hair back from my face he laid soft kisses on my forehead then down the bridge of my nose to my mouth.

“You are intoxicating,” he finally said.

I laughed softly and my fingers gently stroked his cheek. “As are you.”

His well-shaped mouth smiled and his eyes, his so very serene eyes that had been filled with such fire, seemed to carry a smile in them. This warmed my heart as I kissed him with infinite tenderness.

I lay back on the pillows as he slipped free from my body. A beam of sunlight struck just above the edge of the crypt, and I stared up at it solemnly. He drew a silken coverlet over our bodies and kissed the slope of my breast lightly.

“Glynis,” he said softly against my skin as his eyes flicked a gaze toward my face.

Lightly stroking his back, I granted him a soft smile. “Yes?”

“Ignatius. My name is Ignatius.” He pressed a kiss over my heart, then slid up so he could cradle my face.

“Ignatius,” I whispered.

“Yes,” he answered, his lips lightly teasing mine.

“It is a strong name, mysterious.” I slid my hands into his hair and gazed fully into his face.

“Perhaps, but do not speak it to your Master or any other vampire.”

“Why not?”

His smile was dark, but playfully mocking. “You have your secrets as do I.”

“Ignatius,” I said, testing it on my tongue and lips. Yes, it suited him. His dark hair, his wondrous eyes, his sensual mouth, his long lean muscled body…yes…

I could feel him firm and heavy against my thigh and I felt my own ardor rising.

“Glynis,” he answered my voice. He, too, seemed to be relishing my name.

Pressing a kiss to his lips, I drew him tight against me. My body shifted and he entered me as I once more loved my mysterious vampire.

Ignatius…

How I love you…

We finally rested in the early afternoon. He covered us with the fine coverlets he had gathered to make his bed. Huddled in the serene darkness beneath the heavy bedclothes, we kissed and whispered. I fell asleep with his chest pressed tightly against my bare back and his face buried in my hair.

I was in heaven.

I woke slowly, dimly aware of his presence. I knew instinctively that he was awake, and I turned to gaze up at him. He was resting beside me, slightly raised up on one arm, regarding me. I slid my hand across his cheek and into his hair, drawing him close to me for a kiss. I adored his kisses and I pressed myself tightly against him as our kisses deepened.

Finally, he drew free with a small laugh. “You are rather insatiable, are you not?”

I smiled wickedly at him, kissing his cheek and nuzzling against him.

“Glynis,” he said softly, his tone quite serious.

“Why are you gazing at me so,” I queried as I drew near once more to my new lover.

He gave me the most solemn of smiles while touching my face gently with his hand. “I fear that when you leave tonight I shall not see you again.”

“Do not speak of such things. Of course you shall see me again. I am merely departing for my own haven. We shall see each other quite often. I am sure of it,” I said quickly, wishing with all my heart that the words I was uttering were true.

Ignatius kissed my mouth softly and whispered, “But you return to your Master.”

I lowered my gaze, biting my bottom lip. “Yes, but I am quite independent of him in thought and action. He gives me a measure of freedom, so I can most certainly see you again if I so desire.”

“And you desire it?”’

“Of course,” I said, giving him a fierce pout. “I am not the sort of woman that will allow any man to take her into his bed on a whim.” I pressed my hand to my breast and looked at him plaintively. “Do you not see? You have taken my heart and I fear I shall never recover it.”

Sliding to his knees, he took me in his arms and covered my face with kisses. “And you have taken mine, my impetuous one.”

I clung to him. “I shall come to you again. I swear it. I am not certain of the date or time, but I will come here. There are matters I must attend to and it shall be difficult for me to slip away, but I shall.”

“Do not come here,” Ignatius answered. “Come to me in one week. There is a small hotel down near the river. It stands in the shadow of the Cathedral. Meet me in the garden at midnight near the fountain.”

I hesitated, then nodded. “I shall. I will find a way to be there.”

His hand gently caressed my cheek as he kissed my forehead lightly. “I shall wait for you until dawn.”

My hands gently stroking his hair, I gazed into his eyes. “I am loath to leave you.”

“I am loathing letting you leave, yet I know you must. You have stolen my heart quite away from me, dear Glynis. Never in my long life have I felt the passions that you have stirred within me. I fear that when you leave I shall feel quite cold again.” He spoke softly, but his tone was rich with feeling. I knew deep within myself that he was not lying. His touch against my skin was so exquisitely loving.

I gave him a long and passionate kiss. “I shall keep your heart as you keep mine and neither one of us shall ever be truly cold again.”

He smiled at me and it warmed me thoroughly. Pulling me down into the comforts of his bed, he again seduced me with his kisses and touch.

I gave himself wholly to him and was not satisfied until he was deep within and we were one.

In the afterglow of our lovemaking, I finally drew away from him and dared to stand in the shadows of the mausoleum to see the last rays of the setting sun vanish from the sky. He rose after me and his hands slid down my arms as his chest pressed against my back.

“It is time,” he said in a voice that caught with emotion.

I nodded as I dared to look into his eyes. My emotions were reflected in his gaze.

We dressed in silence and did not dare to gaze upon each other. It was far too difficult to refrain from touching and dragging each other back down into the soft bed.

I struggled for a bit with my dress, and then he came to me, and with infinite care, helped me fasten it tight around me.

“Your Master,” he said in a low voice. “Does he treat you well?”

I hesitated as I pulled my long cloak around me. Should I speak the truth or not?

He sighed, my hesitation enough of an answer. “Stay with me. Together we can break the curse that is upon you.”

“I cannot.”

“Why not?”

I looked up at him, my eyes full of tears and my lip trembling. “Because his power over me is not merely his blood, but much more. He has the power to strike down that which is most precious to me.”

“I do not understand,” Ignatius said, his expression confused.

I threw up my hands and pulled away from him. “I know you do not. But it is the truth! He has found a way to keep me his faithful slave beyond his blood and I cannot defy him. When I return tonight, I know my punishment will be cruel, but he will not kill me for he needs me.”

Ignatius came to me, his hand reaching out to touch my cheek. “Tell me. What power does he have beyond his blood in your veins?”

I shook my head and whispered, “I cannot. For what he threatens is too dear to my heart to reveal to anyone.”

Ignatius drew away from me then said, “I wish I understood.”

“I wish I could speak the truth, but I have lost too much to dare to lose what little I have left of a life that was once mine,” I answered. I walked to him and lay my hands on his chest.

He gazed down upon me with adoration and remorse. “I fear for you now. More than before.”

“I shall be fine. I am far to ornery to be struck down,” I assured him. “And, my Master, he does need me. He does.”

He crushed me against his body and we kissed long and passionately. The heat of our desire for each other began to overwhelm our senses and reluctantly we drew apart.

“I must go now,” I said softly.

“I know,” he said in a hushed tone.

“Ignatius,” I said just to hear his name once more.

He looked up and smiled ruefully. “Lady Glynis.”

I bowed to him and he to me.

“Take care of my heart,” he said.

“I shall,” I vowed, giving him one last smile then fled into the night.

I can be cunning when I need to be. Realizing that I most likely reeked of lovemaking and Ignatius, I plunged into the Danube and let the waters sweep over my head. I have no need of breath and my eyes are keen enough that I was able to make my way along the banks, keeping beneath the dark waves.

Only once did I venture out of the black waters and it was to feed upon a man who had fallen asleep on the shore, a notebook sprawled beside him. I took what I needed to sharpen my senses then left him sleeping, his dreams now rich and erotic with visions of pale white women raising from the water to seduce him.