She cried out at the blistering pleasure surging through her. At the feel of his mouth pulling strongly, taking her blood. It didn’t feel gross. It wasn’t in the least frightening. It was entirely sensual, and all the while, his body moved in hers. His hips rose while his hands guided her to a faster rhythm.
Ride me, sívamet. Just like this.
She wrapped her arms around his body, lifting herself up and gliding down, a tight, hot spiral that sent flames racing through her. Through both of them. His pleasure was so acute, she could barely breathe with it. She wanted to give him more.
He lifted his head just enough to swirl his tongue over the pinpricks on her neck. He kissed her neck, her shoulder, and then kissed her mouth. She tasted that nectar, an ambrosia she couldn’t get anywhere else. She loved the taste.
Give me more. Give me all of you.
He sounded like pure temptation. Sinful. Beautiful. Heaven. He brought her mouth to his chest.
There, beloved. Take all of me. There is no part of me that is not yours.
She felt the beads bubbling up, those deep crimson drops, better than any wine she’d ever tasted. Him. All Fane. Hers. She drank. Deeply. All the while, his hands dug into her hips and he took over the pace, filling her. Filling the hollow spot deep in her soul. Filling her mind where all that loneliness resided. Taking it all away.
I will cherish you for all time, Trixie, he whispered into her mind. When you are ready for another family, you have only to tell me and we will do that together. Anything you want and I can provide, it is yours.
His hand moved in her hair, tugging, telling her she’d had enough, and she did just as he had done—swirled her tongue over the small laceration as if she could close it, or as if she needed one last taste.
Fane rolled them, keeping them connected, her under him so that he could watch her face as he moved in her. She was so beautiful. He loved that she had lived life. That she’d known sorrow and happiness. That she’d lived her life as fully as possible and taught those she loved to do the same. She understood loneliness. She needed him in the same way he needed her.
He took her over the edge and went with her, and then stayed there, deep inside his lady. Feeling her beauty. Feeling her contentment. Loving that she relaxed beneath him, trusting him.
He kissed her over and over before he rolled to his side, tucking her close, his hand splayed over her soft belly. “This will not be easy. Andre told me, the conversion is difficult, but I will get you through it, hän sívamak, trust me to get you through it.”
She made a lazy circle with her fingertips on his abdomen. “Conversion?”
“From your world to mine. We cannot be apart. During the day, I cannot be in the sun. A paralysis overcomes me. It is getting close to dawn and we will need to be in the ground.”
Trixie blinked at him. She went very still. “I can’t sleep in the ground with you, Fane. I would suffocate.”
“Not if you go through the conversion first,” he pointed out. “You will become as I am. You will be able to see your family, Trixie, have no fears of that. We can make adjustments . . .”
“I want to be with you, Fane. I agreed to that,” she said, “and I don’t go back on my word. But I’m not going to have to take people’s blood to survive or sleep in the ground like a vampire. For one thing, I’m just too old for that nonsense. Seriously. You had better listen to me because I’m laying down the law here. I mean this. I’ll sleep on a mattress next to you even if you look and act dead in your paralysis, but not in the ground. I don’t even like camping.”
She was “laying down the law.” He liked that. It was completely preposterous of course, but he liked that she thought she could. A lot. His lady had courage and attitude; he was fairly certain she would try to face down a vampire if the situation warranted it.
“I can see I am going to have to watch you if I go hunting vampires. Clearly you are the type of woman to grab your silly vampire-hunting kit and try to help.”
“My vampire-hunting kit is not silly,” she denied. Then she ruined her adamant tone by snickering. “Okay, so it’s a little bit silly. Most of the stuff is absolutely useless.”
“I hate to tell you this, sívamet, but all of that junk is absolutely useless.”
Beneath his hand he felt her stomach tighten in a long wave. She gasped and clutched his wrist. Her eyes widened in alarm. He immersed himself in her mind to steady and monitor her.
“I’m right here,” he reminded gently.
She breathed through the pain, like a woman might when giving birth. In a way, he could see that. This was the death of a human and the birth of a Carpathian. Still, even with Andre telling him the procedure was difficult, he didn’t expect such pain. It burned through her. Agony. She didn’t make a sound. Not a single sound. Not a scream, not a cry, not even a moan.