I wasn’t going to argue with him about stashing me away in his building. I didn’t remember large portions of my recent past, and accepting his plan just seemed prudent for everyone. After my discussion with Victoria, it was probable that Devereux was the only one who thought I’d be safe anywhere.
“It is good to have you back. I have missed you.” He lifted me onto his lap, smiling. I felt his warm breath on my face as he enveloped me in his arms and kissed my cheek with his soft lips.
I knew what he meant, but being curious about my other personality, I decided to fish for more information. “What do you mean? I never left. I was here all the time.”
He raised an eyebrow, apparently aware of my tactic. “Why not simply ask what you wish to know?”
I enjoyed studying his face for a few seconds, then brushed aside a few long, blond strands of his silky hair, tucking them behind one of his perfectly shaped ears. “Just tell me if I did anything to embarrass myself or anyone else in any way. Victoria said I was uninhibited. I suspect that’s an understatement. How bad was I?”
“You were not bad at all. Merely not yourself. Or, at least, not the self you normally show the world. You were very influenced by the one who tainted you. He has little regard for others. He is often crude and sadistic—a sexual predator—and you exhibited mild aspects of his tendencies. But, according to my staff, you behaved as if you were youthfully intoxicated. Nothing more.”
“That’s what Victoria said, too.” I blew out the breath I’d been holding, ridiculously relieved. “It’s very upsetting to lose chunks of memory. I feel as if I’ve crashed, and my personal black box is still missing.”
“I do not understand.” He tilted his head, and frowned. “Your personal black box? Did you misplace a black box?”
“I’m sorry.” I chuckled. “That’s an airplane reference. Since you have no need for conventional transport, you’ve probably never heard about the recording devices used on aircraft. Nevermind. It’s not important. Just a metaphor.” I kissed his chin. “So, what’s the plan? We’re going to your penthouse, right? I have clients tomorrow morning.”
He grinned, his beautiful eyes twinkling. “What is the rush?” He lifted me off his lap and tossed me onto the center of the bed. In a heartbeat, I was pinned under his body. I opened my mouth to complain about his weight, and got a mouthful of hair. I sputtered, pushing at the strands with my tongue, all the while listening to him laugh. As quickly as the sweet-smelling mane had covered my face, it was gone again. He executed a masterful flick of his head, which managed to fling his platinum veil behind him.
“Hey, are you trying to suffocate me?”
He braced his arms and feet to lift his body, lessening the pressure on my chest. “I am sorry, my love.” His velvet voice still held traces of his laughter. “That was not very romantic, was it? In the future, I will remember to tie my hair back before jumping on you.”
I inhaled the delicious scent of his skin and sighed in satisfaction. “I guess I’ll forgive you this time.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulled his body against mine, and tenderly kissed his warm lips.
He deepened the kiss and moaned softly.
We explored each other’s mouths, tongues joyfully caressing, as we reignited the romantic flame between us. As much as I craved Devereux sexually, I was blissfully content to press my lips to his and revel in the feel of him. For the moment, all I needed was the closeness. The touching.
Finally coming up for air, he rolled onto his side, and balanced his head on his palm, watching me, his face serious. “Kissing you is always as amazing as the first time. You cannot know how incredible it feels for me to share your life force. To lose myself in you. It is as if you were created especially for me. I am very grateful that the ritual restored you to me.”
“Well, I don’t know where I was, but I’m glad to be back, too.” I trailed a finger along his lower lip. “You certainly know how to raise my heart rate.” I laughed. “I never could resist a guy in a sparkly dress.”
He smiled. “That is the second time you have mentioned my robe. Why does it make you laugh? I wear it merely for convenience.”
Visions of a rhinestone-studded Liberace swept into my mind. My parents had taken me through the museum in Las Vegas dedicated to the flashy pianist when I was a child. I never forgot the outrageous capes and robes displayed there. I wondered if he and Devereux had the same tailor.
I toyed with the gemstones circling Devereux’s neckline, still smiling. “I guess it’s because I’m used to your tight leather, and the robe makes you look like a monk in drag.”
“Is that a bad thing?” He frowned. “What is a monkin-drag? What language is that? I am fluent in many of them, but I am not familiar with that word.”
I hooted out a laugh. Sometimes his lack of knowledge about contemporary slang created comical situations. “It’s English. Three words, not one. Monk. In. Drag.”
He appeared completely confused. “Drag? What is drag?”
“It’s just a joke. Being in drag means dressing flamboyantly like the opposite sex.”
His lips pressed into a tight line, and he raised his chin. “Are you saying my very expensive, custom-designed robe makes me look like a woman?” One eyebrow arched. He lifted the hem of the robe, gathering the fabric in his hand until it exposed his lower body. He nodded at the thick erection straining upward. “Is this the body of a woman?”
I could have soothed his indignation and doused the fire with some calming words, but the expression on his face was so perfectly outraged. So theatrically appalled. The lord and master had been insulted. I couldn’t stop smiling. I shook my head. “No. That is definitely not the body of a woman. But the fancy robe makes you look like you’re acting out the drag queen role in the vampire version of The Birdcage.”
I really didn’t want to upset him, but he had asked me why I kept smiling at his robe. If we couldn’t be honest with each other, what did that say about the longevity of our relationship? A sense of humor was crucial. Although, apparently, I could’ve been more tactful.
“What? Drag queen? Birdcage? I do not understand. No one has ever expressed such an opinion about my attire.”
I didn’t think his chin could lift any higher and still be attached to his neck. He flung the bottom of the robe down, covering himself. His eyebrows shot up. He was obviously waiting for me to apologize. Or grovel. Instead, I opted for logic.
Reaching out, I stroked my hand down his arm. “Devereux. We have to be truthful with each other. You said you want a twenty-first-century relationship with me. That means we communicate. We have differences of opinion. We can tease each other in a loving way.” He lowered his chin just enough to acknowledge he was considering what I said. “My comments about your robe were not meant to be insulting. I was being playful. You have to admit all that sparkly gold with the gemstones is rather … unusual. It just took me by surprise.” I thought a little flattery wouldn’t hurt. “I love your body in all that sophisticated leather. It’s so … you.”
He stared at me, his eyes narrowing. “Are you attempting to sweetly manipulate me, my love?”
“Maybe.” I leaned in and kissed his lips. “Is it working?”
He flashed a brilliant smile. “It would appear so. I understand what you mean about communication. So, in the spirit of compromise, I am willing to overlook your amusement about my wardrobe—in fact, I will wear other robes that are even more majestic—and you can acclimate. And, to be fair, I promise to be nude as often as possible. I would not want my gender to be in question for you in any way.”
I slid my hand over the bulge under the gold fabric and batted my eyelashes. “You know you’re all male. You’ve definitely got the alpha thing down. After all, you’re the big cheese vampire.”
“That is true.” He nodded, smiling. “And I can assure you that you have only just begun to understand how my alpha thing can benefit you.” He peeled one of the spaghetti straps of my red satin nightgown down my shoulder with the tip of a finger.
The touch sent a pleasant shiver down my arm. “Oh, yes. I like the way your mind works.” I was glad his good humor had returned.
Effortlessly, he stood, pulled the robe over his head, and tossed it on the floor next to the bed. He caught my eyes, noticed I was enjoying a slow scan of the lean muscles of his pale frame, and waited for a few seconds to allow me to complete the review. His platinum hair tumbled over his shoulders and down his chest, creating a shining veil of silk. Some men looked silly with long hair, but Devereux’s suited him perfectly. He always managed to look like the “after” photo in a shampoo commercial. He did have a vast array of soaps, shampoos, and gels in his bathroom—and they were clearly responsible for a portion of his excellent hygiene—but I’d become convinced the perfect state of his body and his wonderful aroma were by-products of his mystical transformation from mortal to undead. He’d told me once that his aroma was another vampire enticement—that humans were attracted to his fragrance and unable to keep themselves from responding. I could personally vouch for that.
He went down on his knees next to me, flicked a couple of fingers at the levitating candles, and extinguished a few, creating even softer light and deeper shadows. My attention was drawn to a drop of moisture glistening on the head of his erection.
As if drawn by a magnet, my finger slid over that pearl-drop and massaged the liquid into the surrounding skin, as I gazed up into his eyes. He groaned.
I rose to my knees facing him, lifted the gown over my head, and tossed it next to the Liberace costume on the floor. The protective pentagram necklace lay between my br**sts.
We leaned toward each other, our lips meeting. The kiss started out sweet, then became more intense with every passing second, as our mouths moved together, our tongues caressing and thrusting. We embraced, pressing our bodies tightly against one another, both of us moaning. The feeling of his thickness pulsing against me was making me crazy with need, so I pulled Devereux to me as I let myself fall backward into the fluffy duvet. Still feasting at his mouth, I immediately wrapped my legs around his h*ps and ground myself into him.
He broke the kiss, licked my lower lip with his warm tongue, and gazed into my eyes. “The last time we were in bed together, we had sex. It was wonderful, if enthusiastic. But this time I wish to make love. Slowly. Deeply.” He’d whispered the last two words, the timbre of his voice caressing my ears.
“Well,” I murmured, “if you insist.”
It’s a tough job, but somebody’s gotta do it.
Since not all of me had been present for the last encounter, and I didn’t have any memories of my alter ego’s sexual performance, I wouldn’t have anything to compare our lovemaking to. But I was sure I wouldn’t be disappointed.
He was as good as his word. We touched and stroked each other’s bodies, using our hands and our mouths. He licked his way from my ni**les down to the wet, hot ache between my legs. His tongue slowly laved my clitoris, torturing me with ecstasy, bringing me to orgasm unexpectedly. I screamed, frantically bucked my h*ps as he held me in place.
By the time he slid himself inside me, I was ready to explode again. Devereux seemed to have an astounding ability to remain hard for an unusually long time, his thrusts maintaining the deep, fast rhythm we both loved. Each time he shifted his angle ever so slightly, my body spasmed with pleasure. I gave new meaning to the words multiple orgasms.
Sated, he finally rolled over, which surprised me because we usually ended our lovemaking sessions with a blood donation. I heard him chuckling softly. I turned toward him, not sure if laughter was the most appropriate after-sex response. “What’s so funny?”
He lifted a hand in the air and let it drop heavily onto his abdomen. He laughed louder. “I simply feel good. As if every muscle in my body, every fiber of my being, is content, peaceful, and satisfied. If I slept like a human male, I would be blissfully snoring right now.”
Vampires don’t snore. Check. That makes sense. Breathing is required for snoring. No breathing while dead. Another fact to add to the list.
I frowned. “What’s funny about that? I’m sure you’ve been content, peaceful, and satisfied thousands of times before. I can only imagine how many devotees you’ve had at your disposal. I still don’t understand why that would make you laugh.”
He rolled over onto me and pressed his lips to mine for a quick kiss. “You, of all people, should understand, Dr. Knight. It requires a great deal of trust to feel emotionally safe enough to release all of one’s defenses and protections around another individual. I have never done it. Until now. It is a heady, addicting—unfamiliar—sensation. I have, indeed, had more sexual experiences than I can remember, but quantity has nothing to do with intimacy. I am in unknown territory with you.”
“Why didn’t you take any blood from me?” I stroked his hair. “You always do. I was ready to have a few more of those brain-numbing orgasms.”
“There is always tomorrow.” He smiled wide. “I can promise you an endless supply. You were so depleted—both physically and emotionally—that I did not wish to stress your resources any further. You need time to build up your blood again.” He kissed me. “Come. It is time to travel to the penthouse. You require sleep before seeing your clients in the morning.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. Should I get dressed first?”
“There is no need. The penthouse is empty, awaiting our arrival.”