"My parents."
"Right."
She snuck lower, slickering her tongue down the ridges of his abs. Each ridge she rode hot and slow. The want for her drove him to a pinnacle of panting desperation to do some touching of his own. As if manacled, his wrists fought against her invisible power.
Normally a vampire took his life in hand to have sex with a witch. The fact her blood was poisonous to the vampire kept them from carnal relations. Though to the brave vamp who succeeded, the spoils were worthy. A vampire took some of the witch's magic into himself each time they had sex, and he in turn drank her blood.
And the thought of her apricot elixir sent his fangs downward, ready, wanting.
"Mercy." If he were free, he'd have Dez on her back and be inside her right now.
But this slow pace? Yeah, he could give it a try. Not as if he had a choice.
"You're torturing me," he hissed.
Drawing up the length of him, she pressed her body upon his. Fitting her chin into his clavicle, she licked the underside of his jaw.
A wicked succubus intent on stealing his desire.
"I'm not that cruel," she protested sweetly. "I want to learn this part of you, Ivan. The unclothed, unprepared side."
"Unclothed? I'm still wearing my pants."
And then he was not. Seams ripped and the thick fabric tore away from his body. And his cock nestled against her mons. Yes, there, where it belonged. At the entrance. Ready.
"Put me inside you," he gasped, still unable to move. "Please, Dez."
"Soon. Can you feel my heat? I'm so wet for you, Ivan. The heat of you seeps into me. You're strong. A powerful combination of witch and vampire. And the smell of you, dark and spicy, yet unlike anything I've ever captured in a bottle. Mmm..."
"Oh, bloody Mary, Joseph and that other guy. Maybe I'm not so keen on your brand of torture. I need you, Dez."
"Your fangs are showing, vampire."
"Can't help it. Won't bite. Promise. Ah!"
She giggled and nipped at his neck. "What if I tried to bite you, lover?"
"You want my blood? You can have anything you wish from me. It is yours."
"So soon you're willing to give yourself to me? I think it's because your hard-on is straining for some action."
What was she doing to him? Wasn't this the part where she rode him to orgasm and then they had sex all over the house until they landed, exhausted, in the bedroom?"What do you want from me, Dez? Is this the spell you performed with the fairy heart? To gain control over my heart? You have it. You needn't a spell for that."
She sat up, grinding her wetness against his cock. Ivan moaned. He couldn't move his hips to press himself up tight against her hot pussy.
"I want nothing," she said. "And I want you to want the same. Nothing. I can't give you anything, Ivan. Not a commitment. I-I don't know how."
"I won't ask anything of you. Not emotionally."
"I don't believe you."
"I don't know how to do that, anyway," he said. Was it a lie? It worked right now. "I just want sex, Dez. To be inside you."
She lay down on him and nuzzled her lips against his ear. "I want you inside me, too. Your cock, not your teeth."
"Agreed. And no commitments. No promises. As simple as that."
"And we can keep it simple?"
"Wh-what's wrong with me? Am I so unappealing that once is all you can manage?"
"Truth? You're everything I've not had after centuries of pining for a perfect man. The right one." She leaned down to lick below his belly button. His ab muscles tightened. "The only one." Her tongue teased the head of his cock. "That is why you're dangerous to me."
Seriously? She felt that way about him? Cool.
She moved up again, her breath whispering along the edge of his ear. "The spell was for clarity of heart. My heart. Every move I now make is as my heart wishes, Ivan. My heart desires you."
And he felt his shoulders release and his hips rise up with the force he'd been exerting into them. Free, Ivan sprang up to kneel and coved Dez against the back of the sofa, one hand to either side of her arms.
"Do as you wish," her rosebud lips whispered. The smile she delivered curled deliciously.
Sitting back, and tugging her around to straddle his legs, he growled, "Ride me." And he fit her onto his length.
Like an exotic dancer from the Orient, she shifted and glided and snaked her body upon his. The friction was incredible. This dance he could do endlessly.
"Oh, Dez."
He felt her reach down and clasp her hand about the base of his cock, holding back his climax.
Stroking her breasts, he thumbed the nipples. Her moans were sweeter than the scent of her blood. Unrestrained, and wicked, her voice hummed a sensual music.
And one perfect move. Release of his cock. A slide of her hips. A squeeze of her inner muscles.
Ivan climaxed. And so did Dez. And he had never in his life reached such a tremendous pinnacle. It must be magic. It had to be magic. But he knew a more regrettable truth.
They were made for one another.
Two hours later, they had successfully christened the kitchen by making love up against the cool glass refrigerator door. Then they'd aimed for the bedroom, but had gotten sidetracked in the hallway beside an original John Byam Liston Shaw lithograph.
Dez knelt before Ivan and licked along his length. Intent in his pleasure, she expertly worked him to another climax. Probably his fourth for the day.
But four was nothing. They found number five under a cool, massaging pulse in the shower. And outside on the terrace that overlooked Washington Avenue, a blanket wrapped about their naked bodies, number six quietly arrived with the two of them bent over the railing and their exhaustion slowing the rhythm to a sweet, lingering orgasm.
Now, they'd finally made it to the bedroom. Dez was impressed by the decor, touches of art deco and imported Indian fabrics in brilliant emerald and turquoise. She figured he'd hired a designer. No man, not even a vampire rich enough to buy the Eiffel Tower could put together such a room. Unless he was gay. And Ivan Drake was not gay.
She lay snuggled into the goosedown pillows on the bed. Ivan sat before her, the back of his head nestled between her breasts.
They sort of snoozed, and then one would wake the other with a tickle here or a lick there.
Right now, Dez threaded her fingers through his hair, still wet from a shower and smelling like apple shampoo. This felt right.
Natural. Like something she could live with for a while.
And that was the dangerous part.
There were so many things working against the two of them. To even begin any sort of relationship-well, she wasn't about to fool herself it could happen.
You followed your heart. Accept that.
Besides, as a lover, the man could not be dismissed.
Truly, in all her centuries, she had not come upon a man so intent upon her pleasures, and so focused in taking his own. It was as if he'd come to her knowing her body already. And no man ever did. Though some could claim an expertise in making love, the fact remained that every woman was different. And each time a man took a new lover he had to learn anew.
Ivan's learning curve had shot right to the top. He knew her.
And that was a weird thing.
"Do you ever use magic?" she wondered. Stroking his hair, she closed her eyes. The wet strands slicked through her fingers like ribbons of grass. Yes, this was what it felt like-to be undone.
"Only when I need it. I've mastered earth and water and am working on air."
"You may have taken some of my magic with the sex."
"Not intentionally."
"I wouldn't mind if you did gain some of my magic," she offered. "I'm not greedy. I've enough to share."
"Thanks." He turned his head and his cheek nuzzled her breast. A blink of his lashes tickled her nipple. "But I think I need to drink your blood as well to really take away some of your magic. And I meant it when I promised I'd never bite you. I don't need your blood, though I must admit..."
"What?" "I don't think I can ever truly fall in love unless I have my lover's blood, too. You know? That small sacrifice, a piece of my lover's soul. It just...feels right."
"Then we'd better not fall in love."
The suggestion quieted them both. The scents in the room, wet bodies and sex and steam and shampoo, lingered like a luscious cloud.
No, love wasn't an option if blood was a requirement. Dez could expect nothing less from Ivan. And though she'd known her intentions were to merely enjoy sex with him, the twinge to her heart spoke of deeply hidden desires that ached for love.
That damned clarity spell.
"So what do you call this?" he asked. "Sex for sex's sake?"
"It was a hell of a lot better than that, Ivan. But yes, I suppose."
"Doesn't have to be."
"Yes, it does." Blowing out a wistful sigh, she stroked the dark hair from his eyes.
"What time is it, anyway? It's not night, is it? Doesn't feel like it."
"Because then you'd feel the coercion?"
"Yes, and I should not be naked, or anywhere near you when that happens. Just, you know...I don't want to lose the trust you've given me. It means so much to me."
He turned and kissed her belly, then laid his cheek on it. "So about the book," he started slowly. "If it holds all the spells, then..."
"What is it, Ivan? Want to erase some of your spells that didn't go off as planned?"
"I could do that?"
She smirked. "Technically, yes. But you'd have to actually have the book in hand to reverse it."
"And that's not going to happen. No, I would never seek to change anything in my past. It is what is was, and the future is what I make it. But..."
"You can't reverse anyone else's spells, either, if that's what you're thinking."
"To be expected. But what sort of information is listed for each spell? The maker?"
"Yes. And the complete spell, including ingredients and chant, of course."
"What about if someone ordered the spell? Would it show that?"
"Like some mortal goes to a witch to ask for a love spell hoping to make the gorgeous man across the street fall in love with her?"
"Yeah, sort of. Hell, I'll just say it." He sat up and stretched out his arms, which tightened the muscles across his broad back.
Then nestled beside her against the pillows. "I've always wondered about the so-called accident my parents made when selling my soul to Himself. Like, maybe it wasn't as accidental as they believe."
"You think Himself may have orchestrated it?" "Over the years, I've pondered it often. My parents, they are so good. I know they would have never purposefully done this to me. Not in a million years. And it was a misplaced love spell that brought them together in the first place. My mother told me she was making it for Himself, but she had no idea who the bastard intended it for. Would the grimoire reveal that? Who Himself had originally intended the love spell for?"
"Maybe."
He kissed her. Right there. At the rise of her derriere, the dimples of Venus he'd so fondly devoured but a few nights earlier. And Dez felt her body go jellylike and had no desire to resist his insistent attention to those twin divots.
"Oh, fairy hearts are strong and proud," she murmured. "What a wicked spell I've woven."
"A true spell, though? You are following your heart, not being coerced?"
"Not at all. This is my truth, Ivan. I want to be here, right now, in your arms."
He murmured against her flesh, "Perhaps if my parents had not raised me to be good, I would not care now, but I do. It is an ache, something missing from me. My very soul, I know that. I've always believed without question I am evil."
"Why the assumption?" She nestled her chin in hand and closed her eyes to his tongue dance.
"Because it is true."
Now she flipped over and tucked herself against his chest. So close to him, and staring into his dark eyes. "Why must you become what you believe you were born to be? Why not become what you aspire to be?"
"I...never thought of it that way."