Mad for Love: Even Gods Fall in Love, Book 2 (23 page)

“Necessary.” She wet her dry lips as he brought the glass to her and tipped her hand so the accumulated blood dripped in. Only a few drops. It dissolved into the water, barely changing the colour, feathering down and then disappearing, not enough to make an impression.

Watching her all the time, he held one of his hands over the glass and drew the knife over the thick pad at the base of his thumb. She gasped, the only sound in the silence. Not even the sound of blood dripping into the water broke it.

Together, they watched, barely breathing. She heard the
plink
as the first fat, red drop fell into the water. Then another, and another. “If you’re compatible, they’ll blend. If not, we’ll see your blood separate out.” His thumb was healing already, the red line sealing over, then the skin smoothing over the surface.

Although she shouldn’t be surprised, actually seeing the accelerated healing at work made her start.

“Isn’t ichor clear?” Even as she said it, the water cleared, became—just water. No trace of redness remained.

“It’s a mental trick, almost instinctive to immortals. Yes, it’s clear, but it appears red at first, and people who see it think it’s always red. They see it as red. You, because you know what I am and who I am, you’ll see it for what it is eventually.” He lifted his gaze, looked at her, and his face shone. “You’re compatible.”

The water just looked like water now. No blood. He lifted her finger to his lips and sucked the small wound, stroking his tongue over the mark. She shuddered. “I want to do this naked,” she said.

He released her finger but kept hold of her hand. “Why?”

“Everything important in our lives has to be done naked.”

“Except our marriage.”

She laughed. “Except that. But it didn’t take long until we were.” She paused, trying to think of the reasons why her decision felt right to her. “Nothing between us.”

“You know that might lead to something else.”

“I know.” She was banking on it. She needed to know he was hers. “Will it help with the conversion?”

He was still smiling. Few people saw him like this, unguarded, genuinely happy with no trace of bitterness. Aurelia loved this aspect of him. Reaching up, she began to unfasten her bodice.

This time they undressed themselves, only asking for help when they needed it. Aurelia had a knot in her pocket cord, and after struggling with it for a minute or two, Blaize slashed through the knot with the knife he’d used to cut their skin. Typical Blaize exasperation. Everything else she managed on her own.

Naked, she watched him peel off his underwear, then he joined her. She shuffled over so he could slide in beside her, knife in hand.

He watched her, lines tightening at the corners of his mouth. “Ready?”

“What will it do?” she asked.

He flicked a gaze over her body, and when it returned, it had heated. “Every time I look at you like this…” he said, then abruptly grabbed her hand, almost roughly. “Shall we find out? You might faint, or you might feel very little. The response is individual. I think it’s to do with how much immortal blood the recipient has, but I don’t know. It could be who performs it or how relaxed we are.”

“As well we know how to relax,” she said. His cock was hard already. That one perusal of her naked body had accomplished that result.

Her finger stung when he deepened the cut he’d already made, but she held steady and didn’t flinch. Enough that she caused him this much pain without letting him see that he was hurting her with the cut. He sliced into his own finger carelessly, heedless of how deep he made the cut. Then he pressed their forefingers together, completing the bond. For better or for worse, it was done.

“It’s cold,” she said.

“Can you feel it flowing through you?”

She nodded. “Have you ever done this before?” Then she could have bitten her tongue out. Of course he had—with disastrous results. But when he tried to move away, she surged forward, pressing her finger harder against his. “No, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. This won’t end the same way. We proved it. Should we drink that water, to celebrate?”

He made a face. Her distraction had worked. “I think we should find wine. I have some in the drawing room. Wait there.”

He slid off the bed and left for the small room attached to their suite, returning in short order with a decanter of white wine and two glasses. He poured them a glass each and gave the other glass, the one with their mingled blood, a glance before returning to her. “Anything yet?”

“No. Just a little coldness. I’m chilly.”

After climbing into bed, he held her close, warming her. Her breasts crushed against his chest, and warmth rolled through her. “Here.” After leaving her for a brief second to collect the wineglasses and give her one, he touched them together. “To us.”

“To us.”

Watching each other, they drank, the wine warming her, even though it was cold. Changes were definitely happening, but as yet, she felt the same, except for the chill. The cut on her finger had stopped bleeding, but it was still there, no sign of the magic that had happened to him. Blaize was unmarked.

After a few sips, he took her wine from her and placed both their glasses on the side table. Returning to her, he held out his arms and, as naturally as breathing, she went to him. Now he felt real, this felt real, and so immediate she could block anything else out of her mind with ease. He was hers, here and now.

“I’m helpless under your hands,” he murmured. “Should I warm you?”

“No.” She wanted control. Needed to feel that while his gift was taking effect. “I’ll be fine.” Already the initial chill was wearing off, replaced by a creeping warmth. Unwilling to think about what was happening in her body, she wanted a distraction. And if, by some freak of nature, this would kill her, she knew how she wanted to die. With him inside her.

His clear grey eyes were filled with heat as he let her roll him on to his back, watching her without saying anything as she straddled him. His cock was leaking. Swiping her uncut finger over the tip, she carried the liquid to her mouth. Clear and glistening, like his blood. Glancing down, she considered taking the rest of it into her mouth, but decided against it. She wanted him too much. Always that urgency seized her, the need to take him and make him part of her.

He swallowed, but still watched her. “Why doesn’t this do the same thing?” Why, when they had intimate relations, didn’t that do the trick?

Shaking his head, he said, “I don’t know. It has to be blood, fresh from a vein.”

That seemed a reasonable answer, but the problem still puzzled her. She’d have plenty of time to investigate it, if this worked. Not that she doubted him, but she wanted to see it, feel it for herself.

Lifting up, she grasped his cock and guided it to her opening. She needed no preparation; she was wet and ready for him. Still, he was big. Using her hand and her body, she worked the head inside her. He took her hands and placed them on his chest, gazing into her eyes as he did so. Not many men could bear a woman’s weight on them in that way. It spoke to his tremendous strength that she could do that and he bore it with no outward sign of strain.

“My mind is open to you. Always,” he said, his voice a low, untroubled murmur.

It was, she found, when she tried to enter. So easy to sink into his depths while she was pushing down, until she had taken his shaft completely into her body. It filled her in the most delicious way, almost driving all thoughts of what was happening in her body away from her.

“You make me feel complete,” she said. His muscles tensed to take her, his strength her bulwark.

“You do the same to me.” He stroked her arm, sliding his hand up to her biceps, and then leaving her briefly so he could cup her breast. “Truly, I’ve never felt that before. Loving means different things and with you it means total surrender. Take me, my love.”

Slamming her body down on to his, she laughed when he yelped and arched up, thrusting into her. As she repeated the action, determined to force him up high and fast, he pressed against the sheet to steady his body against hers.

“Oh, this is good,” she crooned. Concentrating on finding a rhythm, she moved on him again, attuned to the way his body was working. His balls slammed against her sensitive skin, adding extra sensitivity, forcing ripples of pleasure to spread. Shallow at first, then deeper, until the waves were a part of her, as much as the blood coursing through her veins.

His. Completely his. “Whatever comes next, I love you, Blaize. I’m yours, lost in you.” How could she have ever imagined for one minute taking any other man as husband? It would have been a tragedy.

Awareness rocketed through her, perhaps part of her growing state. A realisation that shook her. Gazing down at his beloved face, she laughed, but shook her head when he asked, “What is it?”

“Joy,” she said simply, and gave him another jolt by moving her hips from one side to another, enough to force him to lift his hands once more and grasp her waist in an effort to control what they were doing.

But she would have none of it. Biting her lip, she worked him again, hard and fast, until his balls contracted beneath her, the first sign of his approaching orgasm.

She sank down on to him and stopped. Closing his eyes, he shoved against her, but she fought back, and she wouldn’t move.

“Don’t stop.” He opened his eyes and glared at her, but she only laughed.

“No. I want this to last longer.” Forcing him to stay still took all her strength, but she managed it, until his balls relaxed and she was sure he wasn’t going to come as soon as she moved again.

He watched her, and then he spoke.
You must have done a lot of riding to have such strong thighs.

She laughed aloud, delighted by his response.
I enjoy riding. Of all kinds.

Then she proceeded to prove it. Leaning forward, pressing her hands against his chest she plunged and rose while he cupped and toyed with her breasts, adding to the sensations arcing through her. He urged her to move, groaning and arching his hips up into her, so she had to ride harder, intent on bringing him as much pleasure as she could. When he released a breast to reach between her legs and touch where they joined, she moaned at the intensity of the connection. Opening his hand, he left his fingers caressing her deep down and then partly turned his palm, so her clitoris touched him every time she came down on him.

He grinned, his teeth biting into his lower lip so hard he drew blood, but as she watched the small cut sealed almost immediately. Strange to see the blood run clear instead of red; she knew him so completely she couldn’t fall for any of his easy mental tricks.

No longer caring if the blood transference had worked, no longer aware of anything but his cock deep inside her, working its own kind of magic, she gave herself to the moment and stopped thinking. Emotions surged together, joined into one, huge, arcing feeling until nothing existed but this. If she died now, she’d be doing the one thing that had come to mean the most of her.

Her body pulsed, clenched his cock and sent him into his own ecstasy. He was with her, pulsing as he jetted his essence into her.

Half laughing, half weeping, she relaxed the lock on her elbows and slid down. He caught her and held her against him, their heated bodies sealing together.

Softly he drew the covers over them, held her close and murmured his love to her. As the world dimmed around her, she let go and slid into his arms.

“You know what you did?” he said.

Rousing to a kiss, and a few murmured words, Aurelia smiled. Before she answered, she stole another kiss from him. That took some time, so she almost forgot what he’d asked her, but eventually he eased her away and gazed at her. This close, she could see the stubble of his beard and the tiny scar above his eyebrow.

“How did you get that?” She traced the line with her finger.

“I wanted to prove to myself that it could be done. So I repeated it until it left a mark. It will go in a few years.”

Who would hurt themselves like that? Why would he do that?

“To prove that I could
feel
something.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, moving her body, since she was still lying over him. His cock had subsided, but it still nestled between her legs. It felt right there. As if it belonged. “Pain was better than nothing.”

Shocked, she lifted up to gaze at him properly. “I don’t understand.”

He met her gaze, hiding nothing. “I lived a long time, then just as I was thinking about slipping into oblivion, I lost all my family. Everyone gone in one night. What did I do? I considered dying, but that would have been a betrayal to the people I’d just lost. I had to avenge them and recover as many as I could before I died. I faked my death. That meant the old Earl of Stretton died and the young heir went abroad on the Grand Tour. I was searching, trying to find the people who’d escaped the catastrophe; I found d’Argento. But I felt nothing, once the anger had dissipated. The experience left me bare of emotion. You brought me back to life, my love.” He smiled up at her. “At the moment, frankly I don’t care. All I need or want is you. Which begs the question I asked you—do you know what you did then?”

Still trying to process what he’d just told her, she shook her head. “I enjoyed myself.”

“So you did, my love. And long may that continue. But that isn’t what I meant. You held me down.”

Shock lanced through her and she froze. “No. You let me.”

“I didn’t. Sweetheart, I wasn’t thinking at the time. I was acting instinctively. I would have bucked you off if I could and taken control. But that was all you.”

Her heart sped up until the pulse in her throat throbbed, blocking her breath. “I don’t feel any different.”

“I always wondered,” he said. “I’ve always been this way. I’ve never known any other existence. But you—you used that extra strength without realising.” His lips curved. “That makes for a very interesting time ahead for both of us. Tie me down and take me, my love.”

She tilted her head on to one side. “Is that what you’d like?”