Dead Sexy
Page 70She shivered with pleasure as her body slid over his. Never in all her life had she experienced anything quite as erotic as the feel of Santiago's water-slick skin against her own.
Moments later, when he picked up a bar of lavender soap, lathered his hands, and began to wash her br**sts, she knew she had been mistaken. Nothing could be more sensual, more arousing, than the touch of his soapy hands sweeping over her flesh.
"Joaquin…"
"Yes, my love?"
"I'm going to melt at your feet if you don't stop that."
"Then melt, my love," he said, his voice growing husky as his hands, his wickedly clever hands, slid over her belly, slowly moving lower, lower, until, groaning with pleasure, she arched against him.
Unable to wait a moment longer, Santiago took her there, in the shower, with the water sluicing over their bodies and their mouths fused together.
He swallowed her cry when he breached her maidenhead, his hands gentle as they stroked her face, her back, her hair.
Regan writhed against him, certain she was going to explode into a million pieces as Santiago moved deep inside her, his voice urging her to go with him, to let go and let it happen.
With her arms wrapped tight around his waist, she buried her face in his neck and felt a sudden sharp pain in her gums. Needing to relieve the pressure, she bit his neck. Caught up in a world of sensation, it took her a moment to realize that she was feeling what he felt, that his groan was not one of pain, but ecstasy. His blood was like sweet nectar on her tongue.
Moments later, the wave of pleasure she had been riding crested, sending ripples of pleasure through every part of her being. It was unlike anything she had ever known, and more wonderful than anything she had ever imagined.
Spent and sated, she rested her head against Santiago's shoulder. "That was incredible," she murmured. "Can we do it again?"
It was near dawn when Regan crawled under the covers. They had indeed done it again. And again. And again. On the sofa. On the floor in front of the fire. In the bed. After the last time, they had taken another shower.
Now, lying in bed while Santiago secured their room, she felt her body grow heavy. It was a frightening feeling, as if she were being weighed down. Was this a natural part of being a vampire?
"Joaquin!"
Hearing the note of panic in her voice, he hurried to her side and sat on the edge of the bed. "I am here."
"I feel so strange. I can't even sit up. It's like I've been drugged or something."
He smoothed his hand across her brow. "Relax, my love, do not fight it. It is the Dark Sleep."
"I don't like it."
"The sensation of being weighed down will pass, in time."
"So, it's normal?"
He nodded.
"You won't leave me, will you?"
"No."
She frowned. "Why aren't I hungry all the time, the way new vampires are supposed to be?"
"Because I am a very old vampire. My blood is stronger than most because I have only made one other vampire during my existence. My strength is now yours." He grinned at her. "And you drank from me earlier, remember?"
How could she forget? In the throes of passion, she had bitten his neck and tasted his blood—and liked it so much she had done it again, and again.
"Why not?"
He shrugged. "I really do not know. I think the reason you are able to drink mine is because the doctor gave you my blood via transfusion."
"You gave me your blood?" Even though the darkness was dragging her down, she laughed. "A vampire giving blood," she said, yawning. "That has to be one for the books…"
Her voice trailed off as the Dark Sleep caught her in its grasp.
Santiago's heart swelled with love as he gazed down at his bride. She was so lovely, so sweet. And now she was his, and would always be his.
He sat at her side, stroking her hair and caressing her cheek with his fingers, or simply watching her, until his own body demanded rest.
With a sense of contentment, he slid into bed beside her. For the first time in centuries, he wasn't alone as he took his rest.
It was, he thought, a welcome change that had been a long time coming.
Chapter 37
Regan looked out the window of the plane. She had been wondering how they were going to get home. One thing she hadn't expected was to have a private jet waiting for them at the airport.
"You must have an awful lot of credits saved up," she remarked, glancing over at Santiago.
"I have a few."
"A few?" She glanced at the plane, with its plush seats and opulent interior. Pilots that flew private planes were expensive; pilots that would fly you across the world and wait until you were ready to return were even more so.
She made a soft sound of assent. She hadn't thought of it like that. Then a new thought crossed her mind.
"Joaquin! What am I going to tell my family?" She shook her head, trying to imagine how she would explain to her parents and her brothers that she now belonged to an endangered species and wouldn't be able to have brunch with them on Easter Sunday or open presents on Christmas morning. Sure, they were liberal in their thinking, but they'd never had a vampire in the family before.
"Do they love you?"
"What a silly question. Of course they do."
"Then they will accept you as you are."
"I don't know. My father's a senator. He's been working on a law to repeal the Endangered Vampire Act. Somehow I don't think he'll be too thrilled to learn about my new, ah, role in life."
Santiago grunted softly. "In that case, I doubt they will approve of your choice of a husband, either, but I would think that, given a choice between having a daughter who is a vampire and a daughter who is dead, your father would prefer the former."
"I guess so. It should certainly make for some interesting conversation when the family gets together."
"You are all the family I need."
"I love you, too." She glanced out the window, thinking of all the things she hadn't even considered when she agreed to let Santiago bring her across. Her parents' reaction hadn't occurred to her. Of course, she hadn't been thinking all that clearly at the time. And Mike… how would she ever tell Mike?
"What is wrong now?" Santiago asked, seeing her woebegone expression.