Chapter 18
E mma watched Damien climb the stairs, his shoulders slumped but his head held high. She’d heard his conversation with Nica. Now that Asmos and Damien’s brother were no longer a threat, he would be leaving soon. Maybe even before she woke, and chances were she’d never see him again. He’d disappear back into the darkness from which he’d come and become nothing more than a shadow on her memory.
A blip of happiness in a lonely life. Sadness filled her for what could have been. If only…she turned away.
“Go after him,” Lucia said, softly.
“No,” Emma responded, fighting back the tears. It was better this way.
“You can’t run from love. Just because he’ll be gone, doesn’t mean you’ll stop loving him. That you won’t think about him every day and wonder if perhaps you’d made a mistake. Don’t live your life in regret, Emma. Go talk to him. Be certain before you let him go.”
She knew Lucia was right, but that didn’t make it any easier. Some things were better not faced. And the fact that he was a vampire was a big one. “What about the Curse, Lucia? Weren’t you always warning me against love? Why the sudden change?”
“Because I want you to be happy. You can’t live the rest of your life rambling around this big old house with me. And besides, you heard what Damien said on the phone. Asmos and his wolves are gone for now. Next year, I’ll worry.”
Emma looked around the kitchen. Was Lucia right? Would the two of them still be standing here in another twenty or thirty years talking about this night, talking about what could have been? A shudder moved through her.
How would she feel if she never saw Damien again? Did she still love him, even after what she’d seen? Even though she knew the truth about him? And even if she did, how could they possibly make it work?
“You know,” Lucia said, while pulling a container of butter pecan ice cream out of the freezer. “Sometimes these things get a little messy. There aren’t always easy answers to life’s big questions. Sometimes you just have to follow your heart.” She opened the cabinet and reached for a bowl. “Want some?”
Emma shook her head. “No, thanks.” She thought of what Lucia had said, and tried to listen to her heart, but she just wasn’t sure how she felt any more. She wished Damien were here with them, sharing a bowl of ice cream. Maybe then she’d know whether or not his mere presence could still make her heart skip a beat. Or if he still caused that strange flutter in her stomach when he looked at her, or if he could still make her feel beautiful.
She sighed. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning. Maybe by then I’ll know what to do.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Lucia said, and smiled as she savored a bite of sweetness.
Emma climbed the stairs to her room, dropped Angel on her bed, then turned toward Damien’s room, her feet feeling like lead as she walked down the hall. Would he want to see her? Did he still care? She knocked softly on the door and, for a second, feared he wouldn’t be in there. That she’d open the door and he’d already be gone, and her chance would be lost.
How would she feel if she never saw him again? Pain constricted her heart at the thought. She raised her hand to knock again when the door swung open. Damien stood before her, hair rumpled, dark shadows under his eyes.
“I’m sorry to bother you.”
He stared at her, no smile, no warmth in his gaze, just the darkness of defeat. An awkward silence hung between them.
“I was afraid you’d leave and I’d never see you again.”
A shadow passed before his eyes, and she knew that was exactly what he’d been planning.
“We need to talk. I need you to promise me that you won’t disappear before we have a chance to work this out, to determine how we really feel for one another.”
“I can’t do that,” he said softly, with no emotion in his eyes or his voice.
Fear clutched her heart. “Damien—”
“Look Emma, I’m tired. I can’t do this right now.”
“Then later?” she asked, her voice rising.
He nodded, and shut the door.
But he hadn’t promised. And as she stood there, she knew there wouldn’t be a later. If she didn’t do something about this, about him now, she’d lose him forever. And forever was just too long a time to live alone, to live without love.
She ran back down the hall to her room, a plan already forming in her mind.
As Emma showered and changed into something soft and slinky, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. Did she really want to take this step? Was she making a mistake falling in love with a vampire? A monster?
She brushed out her long hair, then stopped and looked at her face. Really looked, and this time she saw what Damien saw—a beautiful woman with a few ugly scars. They were a part of her, but they didn’t make up who she was. He had showed her that. He saw past the scars to the woman within. Would a monster do that?
She thought of Nicholai and knew there was no comparison. He was the monster. He was the one who’d given up his soul in his quest for power, not Damien. Nicholai was the one who enjoyed human suffering, who had no more heart and compassion than a psychopath.
She took one last look, assuring herself that this was what she wanted, then crept back down the hall to Damien’s room. Quietly, she cracked the door open. For a moment, as she stepped into the darkness, she feared he’d left. But then she heard his deep rhythmic breathing and knew she wasn’t too late. She still had a chance to prove to him that they belonged together. That together, they could fight anything.
Hadn’t he been the one to tell her that?
She lit the candle on the bedside table, and waited for him to stir. As she watched the light flicker across his handsome face, she knew she didn’t want him to leave. He’d warned her not to fall in love with him, but she’d done it anyway. Now here she was, for better or worse, in love with a vampire.
She shook her head and sat on the side of the bed. She wasn’t even sure what that meant. What did she know about vampires? All she knew was that she couldn’t let him walk out her door without him knowing the truth about how she felt for him. She couldn’t take the chance that he’d leave and she’d never see him again. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life alone at Wolvesrain. Especially not now that she’d had a taste of love. Of happiness. She couldn’t let him leave her, at least not until she’d had a chance to show him how much he meant to her.
Making her decision, she pulled up the covers and slipped into the bed next to him. He stirred gently but didn’t wake, so she kissed him, softly at first, then deeper, brushing her tongue across his lips. They parted slightly and she slipped her tongue into his mouth, tasting him, moving her lips over his.
He moaned and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and deepening the kiss. She smiled, even as he crushed his lips to hers, and stole her breath. Then his eyes opened and he pulled back, immediately releasing her.
“Emma?”
She smiled, and barely touched her lips to his. “Hello handsome.”
“I thought—”
“I couldn’t wait,” she interrupted and rained kisses down his chin, his neck, gently pulling the skin in the hollow between his neck and collarbone into her mouth. “I know you said we’d talk tomorrow, but I don’t want to talk. And I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight.” She ran her hand down his smooth chest, realizing he was naked. Her smile widened as her thoughts turned wicked.
She loved him. And she was ready to show him how much. Even if he left her in the morning, she wanted her first time to be with someone she loved, with someone she knew loved her back.
“Emma, this isn’t right. We can’t—” He didn’t finish.
She kissed his smooth skin as she inched lower down his body. She pressed the palm of her hand against his heart and felt his heartbeat quicken. “It will be all right,” she said, and ran her tongue lightly across his nipple, pleased when it jerked to attention. “I just want to show you how much you mean to me.”
“Emma,” he said roughly, and grabbed her arms.
She might have been alarmed by the intensity in his eyes, by the harshness of his tone, if she weren’t feeling his long, hard erection through the thin satin of her nightgown. He wanted her, too.
“I’m not letting you leave me without a proper goodbye,” she insisted, and shifted, rubbing herself suggestively across his erection, giving him no possible way to refuse her.
He inhaled a quick breath. “Are you trying to seduce me?”
The hint of incredibility in his tone had her smile widening. “Would that be so bad?”
“But you know the truth about me.” His voice cracked as he said the words, and the pain hidden in the depths of his eyes made her heart ache.
“You’re right. I know how special you are, and what’s more, I know how you make me feel. I love you, Damien. And I want to share that love with you.”
Damien wasn’t sure what to do, how to respond. Every fiber in his being was telling him this was a mistake. It was all happening too fast, and things were quickly spiraling out of control. But with each light touch of her soft fingers and her sweet lips, the fire running through his veins grew hotter and hotter. She was becoming more and more difficult to ignore.
“I don’t think this is such a good idea,” he began, but lost his thought as she continued with her insistent kisses, and delicate touch. She pressed herself against him. Her nipples, hard little buds through the satin of her gown, rubbed erotically against the bare skin of his chest, making him stiffen with each lithe movement.
He moved his hand up and down the sweet curve of her hips, loving the feel of the smooth satin against his skin. Tentatively, he touched her breast with his thumb and forefinger, sliding his fingers down, encircling, teasing. She gasped a breath.
“Emma, you’re very beautiful, very desirable, and I’m sure you can feel how much I want you right now, but this…this really isn’t such a good idea. Not now. Not yet.”
She brought her hand lightly over his as he continued to caress her breast. “You’re right, Damien. I can feel how much you want me,” she said, then she sat up, and to his astonishment, pulled that satin garment up over her head.
Except for her panties, she was naked, and with the glow of the flickering candlelight against her skin, utterly breathtaking. Blood roared through Damien’s ears, and his breath quickened. She lay down next to him, with nothing to stop him from feeling her silky smoothness, or the heat of her desire. She was so beautiful, so perfect.
“It’s okay, Damien. We can just lie here…and talk,” she said, and ran her fingers lightly down his chest, his stomach, stopping just below his bellybutton. His erection jumped at the nearness of her touch. She looked at it and smiled.
He pulled her to him, crushing her tightly against him, her lips to his, her sweet breasts pressing hard against his chest. He kissed her deeply, tasting her innocence, her passion, her yearning.
She moaned slightly, and tried to push herself closer to him. He parted his legs, and she slipped between them, the weight of her pushing against his erection, making it throb with anticipation.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice breathy, as they broke from another kiss. He pushed the hair off her face so he could see her eyes, could look into her soul to make certain she knew what she was doing, and that she wouldn’t regret it later.
“More than I’ve ever been sure of anything.”
“I won’t hurt you.”
“I know.”
But did she? Could she be so sure? He had to wonder—did she really trust him? Was she completely free of doubt? Or perhaps she really had no idea what being a vampire really meant, the kind of power he had.
To prove to himself whether or not she really trusted him, he ran his lips in a spring of kisses down the exquisite column of her throat, nipping gently, but being careful, not to break the skin. He’d never hurt her, but he had to know if she really trusted him. After everything that had happened, could she love him without that trust?
Now that he had human blood racing through his system, the transformation was complete. After more than two hundred and fifty years, he was truly a vampire. And he felt it in his blood, the power, the lust. The need for blood. Would he be able to fight that need? Would he be able to stop himself from biting even Emma? The one person he truly loved in this world?
He could have cried out with the horror of it. He could never, would never, hurt her. But how did he really know? Now that he’d drunk the elixir, could he really trust what he might or might not do?
Emma tensed under the ministrations of his tongue, as he moved it steadily back and forth down her neck and over the delicious lines of her collarbone. Was she tensing in fear, or passion?
He knew from the response of the girl tied to the tree how she would respond to his bite. The pure eroticism of his teeth piercing her skin, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue, no matter how slight, would be heaven for them both.
She would reach pinnacles of pleasure never before experienced. The joining of their bodies, physically, mentally, he’d feel what she felt, and it would be magnified a hundredfold for her.
He ran his hand across her full breasts, teasing her tight hard nipples, lightly pinching, pulling. She gasped, then let out a small moan and arched, pushing herself into his hand, squeezing those beautiful, soft thighs together.
And he knew what she was feeling, for he felt it, too. The exquisite pleasure building between her legs, longing for pressure, for him to take the small nub buried within her satin curls and do to it what he was doing to her breasts. But he wouldn’t, not yet.
Instead he took her breast in his mouth, and suckled gently at first, reveling in the feel of her hands tangling in his long hair, in the soft fullness in his mouth.
“Damien, please,” she pleaded. Oh, and he liked the sound of her pleading. But he wouldn’t give her the release she was looking for, not yet.
“I can make you feel things you’ve never felt. I can make you scream for me. Do you want me, Emma?”
“Oh, yes. Yes.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes. Yes.”
“Are you sure?” He sat up and looked down into her face, into her beautiful blue eyes laden with desire, and searched for the truth. She grabbed him behind the neck and pulled him down to her. “Yes,” she whispered, and thrust her tongue into his mouth.
Fire ran rampant through his system. He crushed his lips to hers, tasting her, demanding, devouring. She tasted sweet, trusting, innocent. Her innocence was almost overwhelming. He had to do it right, to be careful, or she’d sweep him along with her desire, and they’d both be lost.
Patting, stroking with his palm flat, he slid his hand across her body, moving to her feet and rubbing the soft curves of her calves, running his tongue in the grooves behind her knees and up the insides of her thighs.
She whimpered, little mewling sounds of pleasure, and suddenly he believed what she believed, that he wasn’t a monster. That he was a man who could make her happy, who could love and protect her for a lifetime.
“You mean so much more to me than I can show you physically. I could never touch you gently enough, or make you feel enough passion to describe how I feel,” he said, his voice husky as he spoke the words.
Her body trembled beneath him. He slid both hands up her hips, caressing every inch of her, with his fingers, his tongue, his lips.
Emma couldn’t catch her breath. Her mind went blank as Damien touched her, as he pressed his body against hers. He was long and hard, sliding against her, his need rampant and intoxicating. She squeezed her legs together as overwhelming sensations swamped her body, blocking out all thoughts but the feel of his touch as he stroked her backside, his fingers moving under the edge of her panties.
“Yes,” she breathed, her voice raw. “Take them off.”
His touch was magic; his deft fingers stroked and probed places that had never been touched before. Lost in the arousing sensations, she found herself almost desperate for something she didn’t understand but had to have. His touch, his kiss, him, inside her.
He continued his teasing as he gently opened her legs. Her body tensed, tightening with such need she thought she might explode. She grabbed him closer, shifting until she felt the tip of him moving against her. She wasn’t afraid, in fact, she welcomed it. She wanted it, more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.
As he nestled between her legs, she spread them wider, then grabbed his buttocks and pulled him to her. In one quick movement, he was where she wanted him. He was hot and hard, the pain was quick and brutal, and then it was gone.
He moved slowly at first, giving her body time to adjust, to expand around him. Like butter cleaved by a hot knife, she melted, surrounding him with her warmth.
She lifted her hips, matching his rhythm, letting the passion build once more. It expanded within her, hot and languid, filling every part of her mind, her body, her soul. As they moved, two bodies joining and becoming one, she was pushed closer to that unknown edge, and he was all she had to hold on to.
She grasped his hands, her fingers intertwining with his, as he moved faster, harder, pushing deeper and deeper. She rocked, canting her hips. Her breath came in quick gasps, unable to stay more than a second in her chest.
“Please,” she begged. Wanting some sort of release from this sweet torment. Needing it to stop, yet not wanting it to at the same time. Wanting the pleasure to go on and on always.
“Damien,” she whispered his name, and the sound of it felt wondrous to her ears. His tongue filled her mouth, and she tasted him, and knew she could not go another day without his taste, his smell, his touch.
“I love you. Please, don’t leave me.” There she’d said it. She’d laid her heart there on her sleeve, and she hoped he would take it.
“I won’t. I promise. I couldn’t.”
She was getting closer, rising higher.
“You mean everything to me,” he said. “You’ve given me back a reason for being. I love you.”
Tears filled her eyes at his words. Then, as she moved closer and closer to that unknown edge, she grabbed his arms, tilted her head back and screamed. And just before she plummeted over, she heard something, softly at first, then louder.
Laughter. And the howling of wolves.