Darkness In The Flames (64 page)

Rowan chuckled. “Mostly we just fuck.”

“Ah. Well, yes. But besides that…”

“Let me think.” Rowan stared into the fire. “Rarely do we talk in the way I think you mean. We satisfy our lusts together or with others. She sets the scene—I am merely a player.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

Marcus steepled his fingers and stared at Rowan over their tips. “Why does she always call the tune? Have you ever tried to
not
respond in the way she expects?”

“Umm…” Rowan thought. “Well, no. Not really. It’s just—I want her so much, Marcus. I ache with wanting her. When I finally get to be with her, I’m nearly insane with the desire to possess her once more. I can’t say I’ve ever really considered not playing along with her games.”

“I wonder if it’s time for you to try. To see what happens if you hold back a little, Rowan. Fight the need to claim her and perhaps get her to talk to you. Anything you can learn about her might help.”

“Help destroy her, you mean.” Rowan’s shoulders sagged. “It’s been two years, Marcus. Two years of this feverish desire for a woman who may not even exist in my reality. I want it ended and yet…”

“And yet it would end your dreams too.”

Rowan looked up. “Not just that. If she is destroyed, then what if I am destroyed too? I’m a creature of her making. Her other victims are all her creations, assuming there are others. What happens to us if we kill her?”

It was Marcus’ turn to stare into the fire. “I don’t know.” He was silent for a few minutes. “I would not lose you, Rowan. Not for anything. You have become important to me in more ways than you could imagine.”

“I know. I feel the same. The love I have for Thérèse—well, that’s one thing. What I feel for you—it’s something else again. Something I cannot possibly put into words.”

“We are like-minded souls with burdens that neither of us expected to bear. I’ve found immeasurable comfort in sharing mine with you.” Marcus sighed. “And it would seem you have found the same. Dreams, visions and darkness notwithstanding, you’ve brought something into my life, Rowan.
Hope
maybe. Friendship definitely.”

Rowan’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “Don’t forget desire. I’ve found great pleasure with you, Marcus. I would do so again.”

Marcus’ brown eyes glittered as he met Rowan’s gaze. “As would I.”

Rowan stood. “Then perhaps you’d do me the honor of accompanying me upstairs. I think it’s time we
rested
. Don’t you?” He let one hand drift to his hip, brushing his jacket aside and turning so that Marcus could plainly see the arousal jutting from beneath his breeches. “If you’re feeling strong enough, of course.”

Marcus licked his lips, sending a little grin of delight to Rowan’s face.

“Hmm. I think I might be able to handle—
some rest
.”

Rest, apparently, wasn’t what either had in mind.

Each man hurried, fingers tugging at clothing, eyes roving over the other’s body as it was revealed in the dim candlelight of Rowan’s room. Both knew they would spend their waking hours in bed together there and that Rowan would need the darkness for his consequent “sleep”.

Marcus groaned as Rowan’s smooth skin brushed against his and the covers enfolded them in a private cocoon of pleasure.

Rowan’s answering groan came when Marcus reached between them and found Rowan’s cock, hard and ready.

The desire they felt blossomed into passion—a passion heightened by the emotions roiling from one to the other. A need to share, to give unselfishly to the other some of what each had received in return.

They moved, turned, caressed and settled again, finding the most erotic places to kiss and lick and suck, only to move once more into new places—new sensations. Marcus bit back a cry as Rowan delicately laved the balls hardening between his thighs, a muffled sound since he was enjoying the sensation of Rowan’s cock in his mouth at the time.

The scent of their loving was all around them, heightening these stolen moments of ecstasy.

“God, Rowan…” His whisper broke the silence.

“
Marcus
…” Rowan’s answer was even softer, a broken gasp of delight.

The simple joys of arousing and being aroused—the knowledge that each man had offered so much more than their bodies and the incredible joy of realizing the offer had been accepted—it was a
mind
fuck every bit as much as a physical release of their desires.

And when Rowan finally turned on his side, mutely asking for Marcus to claim him and end the quivering need that tensed his muscles and sent shudders across his spine, Marcus was ready to respond with a cock that cried tears of readiness.

They joined, Marcus sinking deep between Rowan’s buttocks, a welcome thrust that each man acknowledged with a sigh from their souls.

Within moments they were both erupting, Rowan into Marcus’ grasp and Marcus into Rowan’s body.

It was a mutual orgasm that bound them irrevocably to each other—as lovers, as friends, as fellow travelers along a road ill defined by the customary boundaries of mortal existence.

Marcus did not know how much time he had to live—Rowan could not foresee his own death. Each man faced an uncertain future, but found sanctuary and peace in the embrace of the other.

It was a unique coupling, something they both seemed to realize and appreciate. When it was done they held each other tightly, taking comfort and pleasure in the touch of another so closely attuned. Issues of mortality and immortality faded into the distance as kisses were exchanged and soft words muttered between them.

“Had I more time, Rowan…” Marcus rested his head on the pillows.

“Had I not met Thérèse, Marcus…”

They shared a wry chuckle. “The Fates are against us, it would seem.” Marcus sighed.

“I don’t know about that.” Rowan stretched himself comfortably. “They managed to get us together. I shall never regret that particular twist in their plans.”

“Neither shall I.” Marcus was silent for a moment. “I know not where our paths will take us, Rowan. Nor do I know what awaits us at the end. But I know that I shall not regret meeting you, loving you, sharing this journey with you.”

“’Tis more than sex, isn’t it?” Rowan’s head turned on the pillow as he glanced at Marcus. “I cannot explain what we share. Others would turn away in distaste and not understand what lies between us.”

Marcus nodded. “To many this would appear an aberration. Although not an uncommon one. Yet you love Thérèse with a passion that surpasses any I can imagine. You
must
. For to remain defensive of one such as she—well, that requires a love way beyond understanding.”

“Am I defensive?” Rowan pondered Marcus’ words. “I suppose I am. And yet—I see Thérèse for what she is. An evil creature preying on victims to sustain her needs. It’s just that—”

“Just what?” Marcus gently touched Rowan—a gesture of affection and encouragement.

“It’s just that beneath her wickedness I sense something. Something sad perhaps. A pain she hides too well. She has her own agonies, Marcus. And I cannot begin to imagine what they must be like.”

“Rowan, you
must
try and talk to her.
Really
talk to her. Find out about her history, her life—whatever you can.”

“So that I can use that information to destroy her?” Rowan’s voice was rough. “That will be difficult.”

“I know.” Marcus sounded somber. “But perhaps if you consider that you might be freeing her rather than destroying her, it would help.”

Both men were silent for a few minutes, thinking their own thoughts.

Then Rowan spoke. “I will try.”

Marcus answered. “And I will be there for you when you do.”

Those words were more prophetic that Marcus could have realized, because as the sun rose and Rowan tumbled into his comatose rest—the visions began.

He found himself staring at Thérèse.

And for the oddest moment it appeared as if she was crying.

Chapter Six

Rowan blinked as darkness whirled through his senses and he found himself in a small room, bare walls surrounding him and a piece of material covering what must be one window.

It was sparsely furnished—a simple rustic bed, one stool—no more than that. The tang of farm animals assailed his nostrils and he stared at Thérèse as she sat on the bed, all traces of emotion gone. Just the usual sensual smile of welcome curving her lush lips.

“Rowan, my darling. Come to me.”

He tilted his head. “Where are we?”

“Together. Does anything else matter?” She held out one hand. “Come. Fuck me, my love. Claim me with that fine cock of yours. Send me flying. See how I ache for you?” She lifted the thin silks of her insubstantial dress and parted her thighs, revealing swollen moist folds. “Ahh. This pussy wants you, darling. Can’t you see?”

Rowan’s body leaped in response. “I see.” He hardened immediately, unable to control his reactions to the fiery red curls atop her mound or the droplets of her juices that glittered on her fingers as she caressed herself lasciviously.

“Then come. Make
me
come. Fuck me hard, my sweet. I need you. Suck me with that strong mouth, bury your face here where I want you so much, then fuck me Rowan.
Fuck me
.”

It was the undercurrent of urgency that cut through Rowan’s rising desire and held him back. Something about her was different—more desperate, perhaps. It was enough to keep him from going to her as he ordinarily would have done.

“Thérèse, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s
wrong
. I yearn for you. Come here…to me…”

Rowan neared the bed and leaned over her, cupping her pussy with his hand and playing with the swollen folds of flesh. “I yearn for you too. But you seem…troubled.”

She sighed as he found her clit and toyed with it, slicking her juices around it, teasing it from its hiding place. “When you touch me like that, there is no trouble anywhere, Rowan.”

He withdrew his hand. “And when I do not?”

She lifted her chin and opened her eyes wide, staring intently at him. “Why do you tease me so? I want you. Here and now. What more is there?” She slid one of her own hands between her thighs to replace his touch. “If you will not fuck me, then I shall take care of it myself.”

He watched for a moment as her fingers became shiny and the sounds from her pussy as she delved within darted through the silence between them. Then he grabbed her wrist, expecting her to erupt and dump him flat on his back while she took what she desired from him.

To his astonishment, it didn’t happen. Her arm stayed held in his grasp, much like that of a mortal woman.

“I—Rowan—” She stumbled over her words.

He pulled her arm up and away from her mound, her moist fingertips catching on the silk of her gown and drawing it up at the same time. He drew in a breath at the skin revealed beneath the flimsy stuff—it was scarred and pitted, red marks that even now were fading as he stared at them.

“What the hell…?”

She tore away from him, freeing herself with her quick moves rather than any supernatural strength. “’Tis nothing. See? Gone already.”

As she slipped the gown away from her body, Rowan saw she spoke the truth. The marks had disappeared completely, leaving her belly pure and white once more. Her breasts trembled.

Instinctively he reached for them, cradling them, feeling the nipples budding against his palms. “Thérèse, what is happening?” He squeezed her breasts tightly. “Don’t lie to me. Please. I need to know.”

She snorted. “You only need to fuck me.”

Rowan held her fast. “That is not true. Look at me, look inside my soul. If you have any powers at all, you will see the untruth of your statement. I need
more
than your body…” He flicked a nipple with one nail. “
More
than your breasts and your sex. More than endless hours of fucking, pleasurable though they are.”

“Yes. You need to feed from me.” She curled a lip.

Rowan sighed. “You are blind, my sweet. So powerful and yet so blind.”

She was staring at him, black eyes expressionless, lips parted. “I do not understand.”

Rowan released her breasts, pushed her back onto the small bed and stretched out on top of her, letting her take his weight as he cradled his cock in the vee of her thighs. “You took my blood and my soul, Thérèse. We fucked like I’ve never fucked anybody before or since. You turned me into a creature of darkness like yourself. But you took something else that night in Rogaška.”

“I did?”

“Yes.” Rowan found her hands, intertwined their fingers and drew them high above her head, holding her still as he lowered his face to hers. “You took my heart.”

He kissed her, a strangely soft kiss, one that was almost sacred and respectful, giving no hint of the years of passion that lay between them. Cool lips met cool lips, a closed caress that opened as she tentatively invited him to explore within.

Thérèse was still beneath him—a strange thing for him to realize. It was as if she’d never been kissed quite this way before. Perhaps she hadn’t. He drew back. “Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me what happened.”

He didn’t really know what he was asking—maybe just for words. Words that would help him understand this creature who held his love in a grip of blood and pain.

She turned her head away. “I was…foolish. I did not move fast enough. I underestimated my enemies. ‘Twas nothing but a mere shower of…of…holy water.”

Rowan guessed she was speaking of the scars he’d seen. “And they heal?”

“Slowly. More slowly than they should.” She turned back and gazed at him. “Something’s changing, my Rowan. I am weakening, losing my strength.” Her black eyes turned hot. “Fuck me. Let me feed from you. Give me what I
need
, Rowan. You cannot deny me.”

“I know. I can deny you nothing. I love you, Thérèse—you have only to ask me and I shall come to you. Give you anything at all…”

He lifted his hips, letting his cock find the only home that suited him perfectly. As he sank his length into her cool slick darkness, everything else disappeared from his mind. He began to thrust, a steady pace that pleased them both.