Dalakis Passion 3 - Stefan's Salvation (12 page)

bounced off the walls as he pinched her tight nipple with his fingers and at the same
time stroked her swollen clit. His hips began to jackhammer against her ass as he
quickened his strokes. Short and hard, he fucked her while teasing her with his fingers.
It was too much for her to stand and she came apart beneath him.
Her body spasmed as convulsions rocked her. She felt surrounded by him, filled by
him as she came. Her inner muscles clutched at his cock, but he continued to drive into
her, getting closer to his own release. When it came, it shook her to her very core. The
hard plunge of his cock as he drove into her one final time, the hot jet of semen within
her as he came and the heaving of his body made her spasm all over again. His arms
banded around her so tight that she could feel the pounding of his heart against her
back.
Her arms finally gave out and she collapsed on the mattress, burying her face in her
pillow. She felt absolutely wonderful and totally boneless. Stefan gave one final growl
of pleasure as he collapsed on top of her, his body draped over hers like a blanket.
Stretching out her right leg, she reached down an absently rubbed her hand over
the aching thigh. A deep contentment filled her, unlike anything she'd ever experienced
in her life. A feeling of rightness welled up inside her. Stefan was her man, for better or
worse. She knew that deep in her bones as surely as she knew the sun would rise in the
morning.
He stirred behind her like a sleeping giant awakening from his slumber. She
moaned as he shifted, the action sliding his still rock-hard erection within her.
Wiggling, she tried to get comfortable, but it was impossible. She couldn't believe that
Stefan could possibly still be aroused after two orgasms, but the facts spoke for
themselves. His cock was still pulsing deep in her core and her own contentment was
fading, replaced by an even deeper yearning than before.
His lips skimmed over her shoulder and neck. A shiver raced down her spine as he
nibbled on her nape. "Will you give me what I want, what I yearn for?" His tongue
traced the whorls of her ear and she tilted her neck to give him better access.
She sensed he wanted more from her. More than she could even imagine. But
whatever it was, she wanted to give it to him, sensed that she was the only one who
could satisfy whatever deep longings lived within him.
"Take what you need." He stilled at her words and she lay there, open and
vulnerable and waiting.
Chapter Twelve
Stefan closed his eyes and uttered an oath under his breath. Laurel Rose didn't
know what she was offering him, but he planned to take it anyway. There was no way
he could stop now. The bloodlust was rising within him. Like an animal caged far too
long, it growled and clawed for release.
She'd given her body to him without reservation and it had been even better than
he'd imagined it could be. The physical and mental connection between them made sex
more satisfying than anything he'd ever experienced in his long life. She'd taken his
cock into her sweet mouth and given him pleasure. She'd taken him into her body,
freely and openly, giving him what he needed. Now she was putting her very life in his
hands, offering him her blood.
His fangs elongated. His cock grew, expanding even larger than before as the
bloodlust made his sexual appetite greater. She squirmed as he filled her, stretching the
already swollen tissue of her cunt. His senses heightened his emotions, threatening to
push him over the edge into oblivion where nothing mattered but satisfying his own
need. He tried to claw them back and control them. It would destroy him if he hurt her.
The smell of sex perfumed the air around them. The heavier aroma of his cum
mingled with the spicy scent of her arousal. Their hearts beat in tandem as his chest
covered her back. He used his forearms to keep the bulk of his weight off her as he
traced a wet path with his tongue from her ear to the nape of her neck. Her skin was
salty and warm. The sound of the blood pumping through her veins called to him like
the sweetest song, urging him to take, to taste, to feed.
Gripping the tail of her braid in his fist, he wrapped it around his wrist. He would
never let her go. Scraping his teeth over her flesh, he sank them deep in the curve where
her neck and shoulder met. She jerked in his arms as the slight pain caught her
unawares. He could sense her confusion and growing unease, and when she started to
struggle, he growled and automatically tightened his grip on her.
There was no escape. For either of them.
The moment his teeth pierced her flesh, her blood hit his mouth, filling it as he
drank deep. Pure ecstasy. He'd never tasted blood as fine in his life. Sweet and
intoxicating, it flowed down his throat and soaked into every cell of his body,
rejuvenating him and quieting the never-ending hunger that burned in his gut. Like a
man dying of thirst, he drank.
The beast within him demanded that he dominate her, claim her in every way,
marking her as his. With one hand still gripping her hair, he kept her head tilted back so
he could feed. Wrapping his other arm around her waist, he levered her back up until
she was on her hands and knees once again, suspended in his grip. Pulling his hips
back, he began to fuck her once again. Driving his cock hard into her body, he sought
completion. This time there was no thought for her comfort or pleasure--only the
driving need to claim.
Her soft cry of distress hit him hard, shattering him completely.
What was he doing?
Appalled at his actions, he held his body still, shuddering as her pussy clutched at his
erection. Carefully, he withdrew his fangs, automatically licking the small puncture
holes in her neck with his tongue and healing them instantly. He was so close to
coming, he had to grit his teeth as her inner muscles continued to clench around him.
Her breath came in deep wheezes as she fought to draw air into her lungs. In his
greed, he had taken far too much blood from her. Quickly, he withdrew from her body,
his sexual need gone in the face of her distress. Unwinding her hair from around his
wrist, he turned her unresisting body over on the mattress.
He stared down at her pale face. Her skin was cold and he yanked one of the covers
off the bed and wrapped it around her. There was no condemnation in her eyes as they
fluttered open and stared at him--only confusion and a deep tiredness. When her
eyelids slowly closed, as if they were too heavy for her to keep them open, sheer terror
gripped him. Lifting her into his arms, he cradled her tight to his chest. Her heartbeat
was way too slow and he could feel her life force ebb.
Anger and disgust filled him at his disregard for her well-being. Laurel Rose was
his woman and, as such, her safety and happiness came above all. Swiftly, he slashed
his wrist with a fingernail that lengthened and sharpened upon his command. The claw
opened a wound that began to seep blood.
Cradling her head in the crook of his arm, he pressed his wrist to her mouth.
"Drink," he commanded. He put every ounce of his strength into the compulsion and
was still surprised at how much she resisted even though she was so weak. Her
strength of will was incredibly strong but still no match for his.
Under his watchful eyes, she drank. When he was satisfied that she'd had enough,
he stopped her, tilting her head back against his arm so he could look at her. He ignored
the slash on his wrist, absently licking the wound with his tongue, not noticing when it
swiftly began to heal itself.
She slumped against him, totally exhausted and almost asleep. But he was satisfied
that her heartbeat was stronger and her life force was vibrant once more. Her breath
was coming much easier now and the color was returning to her face. Satisfied that he'd
done all he could for now, he pulled back the covers and carefully laid her down on the
bed.
Lying next to her, he settled her head against his chest and kissed her forehead.
"Sleep," he commanded her. There were still several hours before dawn and she needed
some rest after her ordeal. The soft puffs of her breath teased his skin and her hand
came up to cover his heart, tangling in the short, dark hairs that were sprinkled across
his chest.
She was his now. His blood would strengthen her body. They were connected in a
way that could never be broken. He would always know where she was, always be able
to sense her feelings. It was both a curse and a blessing. If she turned from him, it
would slowly drive him mad. She would haunt his waking hours and even his
deathlike sleep until the day she passed from the earth. It was this very thing that had
led some of his ancestors to face the killing sun.
But he would not even consider defeat. He would not leave her alone and
undefended even if she did try to send him away. Time was on his side and he would
do whatever it took to make her want to be with him. Their physical connection was
deep and explosive and he would use it to help bind her to him.
Stefan knew that Laurel Rose would have many questions when she woke. She
might even fear him. His body clenched and his mind rebelled at the very thought. He
forced himself to relax when he realized how tightly he was holding her, thankful that
she never stirred from her sleep. It was his own fault for not being more careful with
her, for underestimating the power of his own need.
But he would not lie to her. The time had come for her to learn the entire truth.
Whether or not she was ready to accept it was another thing altogether. But after what
had happened, he owed her nothing less. He was a Dalakis. He would not shirk from
what had to be done and he would not be defeated. Not when success was so close at
hand.
Forcing himself to relax, he stared at the ceiling and allowed the soft rhythm of her
breathing and the beat of her heart to relax him. Several hours passed and Stefan found
peace within himself with Laurel Rose in his embrace.
But time waited for no one and Stefan stirred when he realized that his was running
out. He had to wake her and confront her fears. The dawn was swiftly approaching and
the sun would be up within the hour.
The voice seemed a long way away, but Laurel Rose could hear the urgency in the
tone. Struggling, she tried to wake from the deep sleep that had claimed her. When had
she fallen asleep? Frowning, she tried to remember what had happened. Heat crept up
her cheeks as she remembered the explosive lovemaking between her and Stefan. But
after that, her mind seemed blank.
She was climbing closer to wakefulness with each passing second, but it was
incredibly hard to do so, which surprised her. Usually she woke quickly, fully refreshed
in the morning. Forcing her eyes to open, her frown deepened when she noticed the
darkness still shrouding the room. The only light came from the window as the night
sky began to brighten with the coming of the dawn.
"Is it still night?" Her thoughts were muddled as she tried to push herself up to a
seated position. Her voice was little more than a croak and she lifted her hand to her
neck, wondering why it felt sore. There was a metallic taste in her mouth and her throat
was incredibly dry.
Stefan quickly wrapped his arm around her and half lifted, half slid her until she
was sitting upright with her back propped against the headboard. "Yes. It's less than an
hour until dawn."
His eyes were not on her face, but lower. Looking down, she realized that she was
naked and the sheet had bunched around her waist. Her nipples tightened and
puckered under his gaze and the familiar pulse began low in her belly.
When his hands reached down and gripped the covers, she expected him to pull
them away. Instead, he tugged them up around her and tucked them under her arms.
Reaching over to the bedside table, he flicked on the small brass lamp, its muted
glow illuminating the room. He picked up a glass that sat there and turned back to her.
"Drink this." His voice was brusque but his actions were gentle and she didn't object
when he placed the rim of the glass to her lips.
The orange juice was cold and slid easily down her throat, soothing it. "It's good."
She licked her lips. "Thank you."
His mouth tightened into a thin line and he gave her a curt nod as he returned the
glass to the table. For some unknown reason, her gratitude seemed to anger him.
Totally bewildered, she pushed a few loose strands of hair out of her face and tried to
make sense of the situation.
Her body ached in places she'd never had aches before, but that was to be expected
considering the sexual activity that she and Stefan had engaged in. The pain in her
throat had lessened, but her neck still seemed slightly sore. Absently, her hand stroked
the side of her neck.
The mattress shifted as Stefan rolled off the bed and stood. Her eyes were
immediately drawn to the long line of his spine. His hair hung over his shoulders
almost to his waist. She'd never known a man who had such long hair before. On most
men it might have looked strange, almost effeminate, but no one would ever mistake
Stefan for a woman. He exuded strength and power even when he was at rest. There
was no doubt that this was a man in the prime of his life.
As she watched, he strode to the end of the bed, bent down and snatched up his
jeans. She got a mouthwatering view of his butt when he leaned down. The man had
the tightest ass in the world. Her fingers clutched at the bedcovers as she watched him
haul on his jeans. Disappointment filled her that he didn't turn around one last time
before tugging up the zipper and fastening the button. She would have liked to have
one last peek before he left.
His tension increased as he pulled on his socks and stamped his feet into his boots.
She could feel it in the air, see it in the rigid way he held his shoulders and head. His
shirt was next and he turned to face her as he slipped it on. It was hard to believe she'd
slept against that chest. It looked as hard as steel and was roped with muscles, yet it
had pillowed her head and his skin had felt warm and alive under her hand.
"What's wrong?"
The question seemed to surprise him. He dropped his hands from the buttons of his