Forbidden Drink (13 page)

But he obviously didn't like it. Didn't like it at all, because his fists clenched on the table top where they had been resting, but as soon as he noticed what he was doing he hurriedly placed them out of sight on his lap and took a deep steadying breath in.

“That's good to know, Luce. Good to know.”

I studied him for a moment. I wasn't quite sure what I was looking for, what I was looking at in fact, but my inner monologue was humming, no words, just a constant sound of warning. Strange.

I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Tim had always appeared to me as an over-enthusiastic puppy. Incorrigible but mainly harmless, I wasn't about to go all paranoid on him because of someone else's gut instinct and even if my inner monologue was humming, he was my cousin, he needed a break.

“Promise me you'll stay away from them, Tim.” He didn't answer, just kept looking at the wooden table top between us. “Tim. Promise me.”

His eyes came up to meet mine and they just looked normal, normal brown eyes. “OK. I promise. I promise I'll stay away from them from now on.”

I don't know why, but that seemed to take an enormous weight off my shoulders and I finally relaxed. He seemed to sense it too and smiled.

We spent the next couple of hours chatting about inconsequential things. His apprenticeship, my bank teller job, Auckland versus Wellington. The Blues versus The Hurricanes, rugby not being my main focus, I was kinda outdone there. But, it was a pleasant couple of hours, a break from reality, an oasis in the desert. I welcomed it and enjoyed it and finally accepted that I had found my family at last.

When the crowd had well and truly thinned out, I knew it was time to face my night time job and re-enter the world of Nos. Nosferatu that is. So, I said goodbye to Tim and we went our separate ways. He had, of course, insisted on walking me to my
hotel
, no way I could tell him I was staying with the Master vampire of the City though, but I did manage to convince him I could take care of myself. I am a Nosferatin after all. Even if he didn't fully know what that actually meant for me, how deeply entrenched in that world I had become.

I was half way back towards
Desire de Sang
when I sensed it,
Sanguis Vitam.
Not hidden, but slowly becoming more obvious the more steps I took. I recognised it of course, she'd meant me to.

I stopped next to a souvenir shop and waited for her to catch up.

“Erika.”

“Lucinda.”

“You've been following me all along, haven't you?”

“You've not been out of my sight once.”

I hadn't even been aware. It didn't surprise me though, just made me feel sad. Even out of Auckland, so far away from Michel, he had eyes and ears telling him what I did.

I had to ask. “He knows I met my cousin, that I've been having drinks with him for the past hour or so, doesn't he?”

“Yes.”

“You tell him everything.” It was a statement, a fact, I didn't need her to answer and she didn't.

I stood there for a moment and let that sink in. I may have pushed Michel away intentionally, for the greater good and not because I didn't love him, but
this
, this right here, was why I had to do it. He owned me and I would never be free again, unless I cut the ties. Unless I severed the connection between us completely. I knew I couldn't battle the joining or the Bond, but I could battle the emotional and physical hold he had over me. That was still within my powers to do. That was still mine.

My heart wept at that thought.

Oh Nut, why have you laid this at my feet?

We walked silently back to Gregor's bar, dawn was approaching now, so I wasn't surprised to see him leaning against his Merc, casually waiting for us to arrive. He'd probably had vampire eyes on me too and knew exactly when I would come back. His reasoning though, no doubt, because I was a Nosferatin in his city and any master worth their salt would have kept tabs on me. His invasion of my privacy I kind of understood.

He didn't say anything just opened the front passenger door, I didn't argue this time, I kind of felt defeated, so just slipped in and let him close it. The ride to his apartment was short, it really was just down the road. He parked in the underground car park and carried both our bags in, even Erika didn't argue, but then Erika was in full guard mode, scanning for threats, shoulders rigid, back straight. I was silently glad she hadn't drawn the Svante yet, but I could tell her fingers were itching.

Gregor placed a swipe card in a small slot and hit the button for the penthouse. Surprise, surprise, the penthouse. The trip up the 30 odd floors was smooth and quiet. None of us talked.

The elevator opened up on a hallway, plush cream coloured carpet, cream walls and lots of autumnal shades in the furnishings. Scatter cushions on a couple of antique looking chairs, gilt framed mirrors and artwork, everything positioned just so, beautiful, priceless no doubt and so Gregor. He hadn't taken long to make this home
his
home.

The hall opened up to a large open plan lounge, with multiple sitting areas and an expansive view of the harbour. It was still dark, but the electronic shades would be lowering soon, so I took the opportunity to appreciate the view. I wandered over to the windows and just let the scene roll over me.

I heard quiet words behind me, not raised nor argumentative, but firm and that's when I felt
Sanguis Vitam
fill the room suddenly, peaking, then vanishing just as quickly. I cast a glance over my shoulder and saw Erika nodding at Gregor and walking down another hallway out of sight. I turned back to the view. I knew what Gregor had done and I was just too damn tired and disillusioned to complain.

Well, maybe not completely. He came to stand next to me, not touching but close, looking at the view.

“You shouldn't have done that.”

“Done what,
ma petite chasseuse
?”

“To what end would getting Erika to retire for the day serve you, Gregor? You think a guard is the only thing between you getting me?”

“Such confident words, but they are wasted,
ma cherie
. You want me as much as I want you. I can feel it, sense it, smell it.”

I closed my eyes in an effort to deny his words. Suddenly, images invaded my mind, corrupted my emotions. They were unwanted. Uninvited. Yet I could do nothing to prevent their assault. Usually, they came when I was alone, thinking of nothing and no one, when it was most unexpected they struck. In the shower, making a sandwich, walking to the car. Now. Michel wrapped in French Pretty's arms. Sweat-soaked, lust-sated, flush with her blood.

I hated him.

I loved him.

I wanted him to feel something of what he had made me suffer. I wanted him to feel pain.

And here was Gregor.

A small, unfamiliar voice whispered in my mind,
use him
.

I didn't know that voice, it was not mine. Yet I felt compelled to listen to it. I was afraid of that voice. I was blinded to it, blinded to this moment. Like an unrelenting, undeniable force it welled inside me urging me on. But there must still have been some of me present, because I knew if I was to do this, it would be entirely by my hand and none other's.

I should stop this. I should be stronger. I should deny the images purchase. But, I can't.

And not when that sweet, seductive, unfamiliar voice murmurs in my ear,
seek your revenge, take back your control. Do it now.

Before I even realised what I was doing a whimper of pain - or was that regret? - escaped my lips. But it was too late for Gregor to stop this, there would be no retreat. I had already taken that fateful step along this path. I owned it now.

I pushed Gregor against a column next to us, forcing the air out his lungs, showing him just how strong I could be, just how much in control of
my
life I could be. And proceeded to kiss him with all of my body, not holding anything back, trying my darnedest to climb right down his throat.

He groaned against me, placing his hand on my rear, lifting one of my legs to wrap around his thigh, kissing me back as though there was no tomorrow, as though this was his one and only chance to have me and he wasn't stopping, not for anyone, not for anything. He was a runaway train on a collision course he had no desire to shy away from. And I let him come towards me, come closer than I had ever let him before.

“Lucinda. Lucinda. Lucinda. Say yes, please say yes.” His mouth had left mine and was tracing kisses across my cheeks, over my eyelids, down to my jaw, so light and delicate, barely touching but searing me with each brush of his lips, each stroke of his tongue, each hot breath against my skin. I melted under his touch, I caved against his desire and I felt my own building, uncontrolled, unstoppable, undeniable. I wanted him and I wanted this now.

“Bedroom. Now,” I managed breathlessly against him.

He didn't hesitate, lifting me in his arms and claiming my mouth again. I have no idea how we made it to the bedroom, how he had been able to see where we were going at all. I lost seconds or minutes, I don't know, I was just floating in his voice, soft murmurs of gratitude, love, desire, against my skin. I was lost in the onslaught of his hands, his fingers so deftly stroking, probing, finding every conceivable spot that sent further shockwaves through my body.

Before I even realised what was happening, we were both naked on his bed, arms around each other, legs intertwined, lips locked together. His tongue darting in and out, claiming me, making me his. My fingernails in his back, scratching, marking, making him growl against me, rub his hard body along the length of mine. Things were moving so fast, there was no time to think or second guess, the flood gates had been sprung and were now wide open and even if I wanted to, I couldn't have stopped this.

But I didn't want to, I wanted to feel Gregor, all of him, to hold him close, to have him inside me, closer than he had ever been before. I wanted my revenge. And it helped that Gregor wore my
Sigillum
, we were connected in a way I didn't quite understand, but it was easy to not fight this, to just let it happen. And I almost watched it unfold from a distance, detached and not there, but feeling everything, enjoying everything, savouring everything. Relishing the moment I took back control of my life. The moment I sought my vengeance on Michel.

Part of me cried out in alarm at those thoughts. I knew that this was not me, but the unfamiliar voice inside my head joined mine,
yes, yes
it whispered, it urged.
Gregor's mouth started trailing kisses down my body, leaving my face, covering my neck, pausing only briefly above his mark, then slowly creeping down towards my breasts. He took his time discovering, finally able to follow his desires and whims, no longer fighting to convince me, no longer playing the gentleman saviour. I was his tonight and he knew it. And he wasn't going to miss a thing.

His mouth found one of my nipples, already hard and taut, his tongue lapping around it, his teeth gently nibbling, teasing, sucking, making my back arch up against his chest, my body start to writhe and things deep down inside start to stir and warm. He shifted his attention to my other breast and paused, long enough for me to notice and raise my head. It took a moment for me to realise what he was seeing and for my world to crash in on me again.

Michel's second mark, the one I wanted no one else to see.

He closed his eyes slowly and held his breath. He knew already what had happened, I'd stiffened, I'd put up the wall. His head came down against my stomach, his lips lightly caressing, but not seeking to thrill, just comforting. His last chance to touch me before the inevitable, before I pulled away.

But I didn't pull away. I listened to that unfamiliar voice and I lowered the wall and gave myself over completely to this moment. To this decision. To sensations Gregor washed my body with, blocking out all unwanted images and replacing them with only here and now. I reached out to him, putting my hand in his hair, pulling his face back up towards mine, laying a kiss against his cheek, his mouth, his eyelids, then gently pushing him over onto his back and starting the process in reverse. Kissing my way down his beautiful body, across his broad chest, following the line of soft curly hair as it trailed the length of him, down to his hard stomach. I paused at his navel, licking, kissing, biting around its edge, making him moan beneath me, even whimper when I blew a breath across the wet trail left by my tongue. I moved to his hips, so firm and strong, so hard and masculine, I couldn't get enough of him. I allowed my teeth to mark him there, harder than I would normally, leaving a perfect impression of my mouth, making him cry out in ecstasy.

“Oh God, Lucinda. Oh God.” He started to push up from the bed, but I placed one hand against his chest, firmly shoving him back on his back and let my other trace the mark I had left. It would fade, it wasn't permanent, but I liked it all the same and I wished for a moment that it would stay forever against his perfect, perfect skin.

My attention was drawn elsewhere however, as the sight of him naked before me set in, his hard length bobbing up towards his stomach. He was so large, so hard and thick and long and I couldn't stop myself from touching him, holding him, squeezing him, just a little, getting a pleasing groan from him as I fondled his sac below.

My mouth kissed its proud head, my tongue lapping around the tip, he shuddered beneath me as my fingers formed a tight circle around its base, slowly stroking up and down as my mouth took more and more of him in. I stopped when I could fit no more and slowly withdrew, letting my teeth scrape along the sides and being rewarded with a hiss of pleasure. His fists clasping at the bedspread, his head thrown back, eyes closed in bliss.

“Did you want me stop?” I said breathlessly against him, my eyes rolled up to catch his response.

“Oh dear God, you are amazing.” He raised his head to look at me, the silver and platinum swirling intensely, dazzling me in their shine.

“I'll take that as a no.” And I began moving more quickly, my hand up and down at the base, my mouth and tongue in sync from the tip, meeting in the middle, then pulling apart, then back again and apart, over and over. Until he was writhing and lifting his hips to meet me, forcing as much as he could in my mouth as fast as he could.

I thought he wouldn't be able to stop, it had been my intention to push him over the edge, to prove my control, but you don't get to his age, 400 odd years old, without some measure of discipline. And suddenly I found myself on my back with my legs being pushed up and apart as his head lowered towards my sweet centre, his eyes now on mine, the roles reversed.

“My turn,” he whispered and then lapped at my wet folds, making me close my eyes and suck in a breath.

He was ruthless in his pursuit of my pleasure; licking, sucking, biting, nibbling. His tongue darting in and out as surely as if it was something else, some other part of him he so desperately wanted inside. He found that beautiful nub, that spot that made me toss back and forth and lavished his entire attention there, bringing me close and closer to the edge. Making me start to pant and grasp the headboard above me, my hips already raised off the bed by his hands, my body arching to meet his mouth, my heart thumping in my chest like a beat of drums. Until finally I had no choice but to submit to the release, to allow it to engulf me, wash over me, making me scream out in euphoria and then collapse against the bed.

He rose up above me slowly, crawling up my body, wiping me from his mouth with the back of his hand, only to turn it over and lick me from there too, his eyes on me the whole time. I had a sudden image of a predator about to catch his prey, but he'd caught me already, I'd let him, this was just part of the dance.

I felt his hard length against my centre, my legs spreading wider to accommodate his hips, he pushed slightly, then shifted his hips sideways, in a circle, then back against my entrance; teasing, testing, stroking me. Until I felt the heat build again and my own hips started to rise and fall with his rhythm.

“I intend to take this slowly,
ma cherie
. I am in no hurry. Will you last?” His eyebrows lifted and a wicked smile graced his face.

“I'm tougher than you think,” I said evenly, smiling back at him.

“We'll see.” And then he started moving those hips in a circle again, slowly, so slowly. One stroke passing my most sensitive spot, then moving away, only to come back again and grip me further towards a luxurious kind of heat, then deny me as he moved away. With every brush of that sensitive part of me he sent more shivers down my spine, the more he did it, the more fierce the reaction. My breathing was uneven, a fine layer of sweat now covered my skin and my heart was rocketing along at an alarming pace. My mind had gone to welcomed mush. My hips had a will of their own, trying to entice him closer, trying to manoeuvre themselves into just the right spot so he would be forced to enter, forced to plunge inside me.