I tightened my arms around his head and wiggled my consent. He lowered me with so much gentleness that it brought tears to my eyes. How could one man be so very different from the others I'd known? How could one man care so much that every stroke of his fingers did nothing but push me to higher arousal? How could one man fill me with such joy that I happily merged myself with him in order to show him how much I craved his touch?
I moved upon him, relishing the feeling of such erotic impalement, thrilling in the way he filled me, moving upward just so I could experience again the pleasure of him pushing into my body, joining with my flesh until there was no ending of him and beginning of me; there were only our two bodies and hearts and minds sharing every moment.
When his teeth pierced the flesh beneath my ear, I shouted his name, knowing this was right, it was meant to be, and that nothing would ever change that. He drank from me and my body contracted around him, pushing him into joining me as our bodies burned brighter than a supernova.
His hunger filled my mind as he continued to drink, but now there was another need in his mind, the need for me to take the same from him. His tongue was soft on my neck as he whispered the words in my mind.
I trembled on the verge of another orgasm as he continued to move within me, the scent of him filling me, merging with the desire that he had recognized but which I refused to admit. My tongue swirled over the tendons in his neck, his pulse beating loud in my mind. The thought of tasting his blood teased me, aroused me further, claimed every thought in my head until all I wanted was the taste of him on my tongue.
His finger traced a small line on his neck, blood welling up from it and beading along the scratch. I stared at the ruby drops gathering and felt my body ache in response. I lowered my head to his neck, wanting to lick, the wound, wanting to taste him in a way more intimate than anything I'd ever done, needing to take his life's blood into my body and complete the circle. Several drops gathered together and snaked a crimson trail down his neck.
More than anything else I wanted his blood.
A tiny voice in my mind screamed out its objection. If I did this, if I took the final step of Joining, there would be no going back. I would be trapped forever, without escape, without the power to leave him. If I let those tantalizing drops of red touch my tongue, I would never again be completely in control of my life; I would be governed by him.
"No." I turned my head and nuzzled it into the other side of his neck, a profound sense of loss making me sob with frustration. "I can't, Christian; I just can't."
He moved within me again, kissing my neck and urging me to move faster upon him, sharing with me how much pleasure he felt. I gave in to the demands of my body and whispered my need into his mouth. He kissed me, his tongue mimicking the movement of our bodies until I knew his hunger would claim me. I tore my mouth from his and arched my back, trembling as his teeth closed on my breast, the familiar flash of pain dissolving instantly into ecstasy as our bodies and minds celebrated our joining in the most elemental manner possible.
It was just a few minutes shy of dawn when Christian carried me back to the mammoth bed, both of us exhausted, my body still humming with the pleasure he had given me. He'd made me scream out his name four times, not three, but as he had done the same, I was happy. I lay limp in his arms and listened to his heart beat, too sated and contented to question whether making love with him had been the wrong thing to do.
I let that go and just enjoyed snuggling against him, drowsily tracing protection wards on his hip. "What are we going to do about finding the location of those two houses in town, Christian? You don't happen to know any clairvoyants, do you?"
"Yes, but not one you wish to consort with."
I looked up to frown a question at him.
"She is a Guardian."