Vampire Dreams Revamped (A Sons of Navarus Prequel) (6 page)

Inch by inch he watched his cock slip into
her mouth, sure he’d never seen anything as erotic as the scene he
now watched between his legs. With each retreat of her mouth, her
hand pumped him and he drew closer and closer to the moment of
release. The tightness of her throat pressed close against the tip
as she took all of him into her mouth and began to gag. Tenderly,
he caressed her jaw as he pulled out of her. “You don’t have to
take all of me.”

She looked up at him as if to tell him she
wanted to make him happy, and he said softly, “I don’t need all of
that to be happy, Arden.”

He watched as she began in earnest to
satisfy him. She looked so gorgeous with his cock in her mouth,
sucking him to completion. Each time her tongue slid over the spot
just below the head, he jerked closer to release.

While she tenderly took care of him, he
stroked her hair from her face. As he began to come, he heard her
moan as he sent hot torrents down her throat. When he’d finished,
she placed a small kiss on the tip of his cock and stood up to look
at him.

“Arden, do you know what I want?”

She said nothing as she moved her hair to
expose her neck and tilted her face away. Brandon pulled her face
back toward his. “I want you to come to me on your own. Not in a
dream. Will you come to me?”

He saw something inside her told her to be
frightened of him, but what? Did she not believe he loved her? He
took her face in his hands and cradled it as he kissed her. “Do not
fear me. I’m yours and you’re mine, remember?”

As she timidly nodded, he took her in his
arms and his mouth touched her neck. Her skin still retained the
warmth of the sunshine from her day out, and closing his eyes, he
inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet scent of daytime that lingered
on her. His teeth pressed gently against her throat, seeking the
precious essence he craved. In a moment, he found a pleasure as
exquisite as the sexual one he’d just experienced. Each drop, each
pull on her vein made him love her even more.

Arden cooed softly as he took her gift,
clutching his neck to hold him close to her. Her tenderness made
the moment even sweeter, and when he was finished, he kissed her
softly on the lips. For this night, he would have to leave her
alone in her bed.

After he’d made sure she was asleep, he
returned downstairs to continue his night. There were plans to make
for when she finally came to him. To sire a vampire wasn't
something he did in haste, and everything must be perfect for the
moment when she'd be his forever.

By the sixth day in Brandon’s house, Arden
worried she was losing her mind. She hadn’t had a restful night’s
sleep since her first night there, she continued to feel dizzy and
lightheaded, and for the past few nights she’d been having
incredibly erotic dreams about him. As she practically sleepwalked
through her day, she found her mind repeatedly turning to him. The
color of his eyes. The way his hair curled up at his collar. How
perfect his teeth looked when he smiled. How sensual he was when he
chose to be.

Standing at the kitchen sink, Arden listened
as Mrs. Jandry and Mrs. Benson stood toe-to-toe at the door to the
pantry arguing over the cook’s menu choices. Suddenly, everything
seemed to swim before Arden’s eyes, and she swayed, almost falling
to the floor.

“Miss! Mrs. Benson! She’s about to
collapse!”

Both women hurried to catch her and helped
her to a chair.

“She’s as pale as a ghost,” the housekeeper
said as she examined her skin.

“I know. We need to get her to her bed right
now.”

Mrs. Jandry attempted to help her out of the
chair, but Arden resisted. “No, no. I’m fine,” she said in a weak
voice. “All I need is a few minutes in this chair.”

“Upstairs right now,” Mrs. Benson ordered in
a tone that was less demanding than concerned. "I won't be having
you collapse in Mr. Ridley's kitchen. To bed with you
immediately."

Arden didn’t bother protesting again. As
everything around her became a blur, she held on to them as they
helped her out of the chair. As much as her nature was to fight
this, she happily allowed the two older women to help her up the
stairs to her room.

As she laid her head on the pillow, she
heard Mrs. Benson say, "Get her a cold compress and I'll attend to
finding the doctor." Before she could listen to any more of their
conversation, her eyelids drooped and she felt herself slipping
away. In no time at all, she fell into a deep sleep.

“Miss Stephens? Wake up, miss. The doctor is
here to see you.”

Arden woke as Brandon’s cook shook her
gently by the shoulder. Slowly, she focused her eyes to see a
strange man standing in her room. Old, with round eyes and ruddy
cheeks, he looked at her with concern.

“Miss, I’m the doctor. Are you feeling any
better after your nap?”

“I don’t know. I just always feel weak
lately.” Arden didn’t feel the need to tell the doctor that an even
bigger problem was what she was thinking about her employer.

The man stood by the edge of her bed. “Well,
let’s see what we can find out.”

A thorough checkup revealed no obvious
reason for any of her physical symptoms. The doctor suggested she
go back to sleep, and Arden couldn't disagree. Her nap had made her
feel slightly better.

"Mrs. Jandry, I need to speak to Mr. Ridley
about this. Make sure she doesn't get out of bed, but await my
orders before serving her any food. You are to boil water for her
and when it cools, she can have small sips."

Turning back toward Arden, he softened his
tone and smiled so his chubby cheeks puffed out. "You rest and I'll
make sure Mr. Ridley knows all about this."

Arden wondered if remaining in bed would
mean more erotic dreams. It wasn’t that they frightened her. In
fact, quite the opposite was true. The dreams were everything she
wished would happen with Brandon but never could when she was
awake. How much she wished she could be the woman he desired as he
did in her dreams—sensual, seductive, and loved by him!

And how different he was in her dreams. Not
the proper Englishman who answered business letters and rescued
young women from a life on the streets, but a man who possessed her
body like she'd never dreamed possible.

Mrs. Jandry knocked at the door a short
while later. As with others of her kind, she cooked when worried,
preparing a tray she hoped would make Arden feel better.

"Time to eat, miss."

Arden looked down at the tray of food and
then looked up at the cook, confused at what sat on her plate.
“Mrs. Jandry, not that I don’t appreciate it, but why have you
brought me steak and wine?” she asked as she scooted herself into
an upright position to eat.

“Doctor’s orders, miss. He thinks you’re
mighty pale, and I have to agree. Now eat up so I don’t have to
worry about you.”

Arden saw that the woman was trying to help,
and it felt nice to have someone mother her. Since her mother died,
she hadn’t had anyone really take care of her. She’d done all the
taking care of her father, especially at the end of his life, so
Mrs. Jandry’s fussing over her was a welcome change.

“All right, I promise to eat. Thank
you.”

As the cook turned to leave, she said, “The
master has been concerned about you and wants to see you.”

“He was worried?”

“Sure he was. He arranged for the
doctor.”

Arden felt guilty that she hadn’t recognized
Brandon would be kind enough to call for help. “Oh, then please ask
him to come in.”

Almost immediately, butterflies began their
dance in her stomach. Brandon would be in her bedroom alone with
her. Everything she’d dreamed about him had taken place in that
very room!

Pulling the covers up, she straightened
herself and prayed to God what she’d thought about him wasn’t
written all over her face. He gently knocked at the door and waited
for her to allow him entrance. When he did come in, he looked
somber, and Arden worried he was unhappy with her.

“The doctor says you’ll be fine in no time.
How do you feel?”

She felt like a nervous wreck, not because
of any sickness but because of him. Standing there next to her bed
and staring down at her with those eyes that so often appeared to
be searching for something in hers, he made her think of the
fantasies her mind had been dreaming up every night. If he knew
what she’d thought, he’d think her no better than the women of the
streets she’d lived among for the past month.

She felt her cheeks become hot as she tried
to answer. “I’m sorry to be such a bother. I don’t know what’s
wrong. I’m usually very healthy. I don’t know why I feel so
weak.”

Brandon spied the tray of food Mrs. Jandry
had left next to the bed. Picking it up, he sat down on the bed
next to Arden and placed the tray on his lap. After he’d cut a
piece of steak for her, she saw that he seemed intent on feeding
her again.

“You don’t have to feed me. I’m not too weak
to pick up a fork,” she joked.

In a low voice that touched her deep inside,
he said, “I don’t have to do anything. I want to. Indulge me. It
would make me feel better since I’m responsible.”

In between bites, she asked, “How could you
be responsible?”

He stopped as he stabbed a fork into a piece
of meat and looked intently at her. “Arden, I am the master of this
house. Everything is ultimately my responsibility.” And then, after
what seemed like hours of him staring at her with those deep brown
eyes, he added, “Especially you.”

Arden wondered why he was being so
attentive. He’d proven himself to be kind with his first gesture to
her that night he saved her, but since then he’d been erratic in
his ways, to say the least. After she finished eating and drinking
some wine, which only served to make her feel more lightheaded, she
thought he’d leave. Instead, after placing the tray outside the
door, he returned to his seat beside her on the bed.

Now he was even closer and with the loss of
the tray, there seemed to be no barrier between them.

“Brandon, I think I should rest,” she said
anxiously.

“Very well. However, I intend on sitting
here while you do.”

Arden knew he saw the shock on her face.
What if she had a dream like the ones she’d had each night? What if
she talked in her sleep and he found out what fantasies she had of
him? He seemed to sense her unease and attempted to casually
explain, “I need to take care of you. I can’t afford to lose
another maid.”

Arden laid her head down on the pillow and
closed her eyes for a moment before she turned back toward him.
“What happened to your last maid?”

Hesitating, he finally answered, “She left
for personal reasons.”

Personal reasons? What does that mean?

As she drifted off to sleep, Arden wondered
if the previous maid had gotten this kind of treatment from him.
And if she had, why did she leave?

***

Brandon watched as she slept quietly, her
face the picture of innocence. He knew what was happening, even if
he didn’t want to admit it. His nightly visits to Arden’s bedroom
were weakening her, and if he didn’t turn her soon, she’d die. He’d
thought he’d have more time, but understood now he had a choice to
make—turn her into a being like himself or turn her away and let
her live out her mortal life.

He found he could do neither. Nothing would
make him happier than to have a companion to spend the rest of his
years with, but was that his choice to make for her? Being a
vampire was as much a cross to bear as a blessing. Would she ever
be able to forgive him even if she did love him? None of the others
had.

The alternative was even worse. In just the
short time she’d been in his life, she’d brought something back
that he’d been without for so long. Now each evening when he awoke,
he had something—no, someone—to look forward to. And while he loved
every moment he spent making love to her, it wasn’t merely that he
looked forward to since he could get that anywhere in London or any
other place, for that matter. No, the kindness he experienced with
her made waking worthwhile now. He felt hollow at the thought of
being without her and all the things she made him feel again.

The fear of her never understanding, never
forgiving him for taking her life and replacing it with one of his
choosing made the choice painful for him. He knew from experience
with her predecessors that what he offered may not be what a young,
beautiful woman wanted. To be attached forever to a man who’d seen
two hundred years of life pass by was likely not a choice Arden
would make either.

Gently, he stroked her hair, accepting what
he would do in the end, but he feared losing the one person he’d
grown to love in more years than he cared to remember. As he
watched her sleep, a tiny smile formed on her lips at his touch.
Could he go through with the choice he’d decided to make? The
constant loneliness of his life could be ended with just one simple
action. No more roaming the night in search of blood and the small
moments of closeness that accompanied his feeding from humans. He
could have the blood of one he sired, as it was supposed to be,
instead of unknown humans, whose blood could never sustain him as
well as the blood of one of his own, or Vasilije, whose feedings
always came with strings attached.

He wanted to believe she’d accept him—not
run from him in fear and hatred—and finally give him what he’d
hoped so long for. Had he finally found someone to be a
companion?

Even now, however, as he looked at her
innocently sleeping, he felt the overwhelming desire to drink from
her. Just as in the past, his demons pressed against him, the
monster barely contained beneath the veneer of a well-to-do
Londoner.

He ran his tongue over his fangs and closed
his eyes as the rush of desire raced through him. His body ached
from the need she created in him. Reaching out to touch her face,
his hand brushed her cheek and she leaned into it, looking for the
kindness in her sleep she’d seen earlier from him. As her warm skin
pressed against his, he knew that man held only a tenuous hold over
the vampire he truly was.