Darkness Everlasting
Page 23

Alone in the world this woman was a victim waiting to happen.
Actually, it was amazing she had survived relatively unscathed for so many years.
"It is a beautiful life, angel, but there are very few who possess your tender heart," he said softly. "You need someone to keep you safe."
The green eyes slowly narrowed. Styx wasn't at all certain that was a good sign.
"You think I can't protect myself?'" Darcy demanded.
He suddenly felt as if he had fallen into a hole he didn't even recall digging.
"I think you would sacrifice yourself before harming another," he warily admitted.
"I don't need a sword, or dagger, or gun to defeat a vampire." Without warning, she stepped closer and placed her hands flat against Styx's chest. He hissed sharply as she boldly began to explore his clenched muscles. "There are all sorts of weapons that are far more fearsome."
"Angel . . ." His voice choked off as she leaned forward to flick her tongue over his hardened nipple.
"Yes?"
By the gods. His arms whipped around her and he pressed her fully against his aroused body.
She had made her point. He was well and truly defeated by this tiny slip of a woman.
"Dangerous weapons, indeed." His arms tightened. "But I had better be the only vampire you are using them upon."
She chuckled at his fierce tone. "Since the other vampires look at me as if I'm something they found stuck to the bottom of their shoes, I think I can safely make that promise."
Styx was shocked by the unexpected, dark emotion that clenched his heart. Possession. There was no other word for it.
"Perhaps I should make clear that I mean all demons, humans, fairies, and creatures in this world, or any other."
She tilted her head to regard him with a searching gaze. "That's very ... inclusive."
"Completely and totally inclusive."
Her lips twitched, as if she found something amusing in his unnerving reaction. But before he could protest, her head had once again lowered and her lips were skimming over his healed chest.
"So you don't want me doing this . . ." Her fingers trailed tantalizingly down his stomach to the waistband of his pants. "Or this ..." With a tug she had the button opened and then pulled his zipper down. Styx gave a strangled groan as her fingers softly curved around his hard cock. "To any other man?" She stroked him from bottom to top.
Styx buried his face in the sweet curve of her neck. "By the gods, you are lethal," he rasped, silently adding that he would kill any man she touched in such an intimate way.
There didn't seem to be any need to trouble her pacifist soul with that thought.
"I did warn you," she breathed.
She had. But her warning hadn't included her lips brushing his nipples, his sternum, the small depression running between his abs, and then shockingly she was on her knees and her mouth closed over the tip of his erection.
His fingers threaded through her soft curls as she impatiently tugged down his pants and her hands cupped him with a knee-buckling touch.
"Bloody hell, angel."
Ignoring his strangled words, thank the gods. Darcy pulled him deeper into her mouth. His eyes closed and his fangs fully extended at the feel of her tongue tracing over the head of his cock.
Nothing had ever been meant to feel so good.
So damnably good he was certain he could die in that moment with a smile on his lips.
Groaning as she squeezed and licked him with an enthusiasm that threatened to bring a swift end to his shocking pleasure, Styx struggled to keep the climax at bay.
He had claimed that danger made him feel truly alive.
It was nothing—nothing—compared to this.
And he wanted it to last more than a handful of blissful strokes.
"Angel . . . enough," he groaned, lowering himself until he was on his knees before her.
She smiled with smug pleasure at the sight of his extended fangs and darkened eyes.
"You don't like?" she teased.
"I like too much," he breathed, his hands running down the curve of her back until he could grasp the bottom of her sweatshirt. With one smooth motion he ranked it over her head. "Now, it's your turn."
He could hear her breath catch as he tugged free her bra and at last cupped the soft mounds of her breasts. Thank the gods he didn't have to worry to breathe, he acknowledged as heat burst through his body. How could a man remember such tedious things when confronted with such beauty?
With tender care his thumbs brushed over the tight peaks of her nipples, his fingers savoring the curve of her breasts. He had touched countless humans before, but never had he been so intrigued by the texture of mere skin.
Just like warm silk, he realized in fascination. Warm silk with a faint tingle of pulsing life that made his every instinct roar with need.
Perhaps sensing his odd bemusement, Darcy slid her hands up his bare arms to his shoulders.
"Styx?" she questioned softly. "Is something wrong?"
He leaned his head down to press his forehead to hers. "Each moment you are near, I forget everything but you," he confessed in a husky tone. "If I could lock the doors and keep out the world for the rest of eternity 1 would, just so we could be alone."
Her fingers slid over his shoulders and down his back. "And that troubles you?"
He groaned, his lips skimming down her slender nose and brushing over her mouth.
"Not nearly as much as it should."
Unwilling to brood on his strange obsession with this woman, Styx claimed her mouth in a hungry kiss, his tongue slipping between her lips. In this moment he was ready and willing to forget about the world, and the responsibilities awaiting him outside the door.
His duty would find him sooner or later.
He wanted it to be later.
Much, much later.
Cradling Darcy in his arms he propelled her backward, laying her on the matted floor before covering her with his body. Her nails dug into his back as he kissed his way down the curve of her neck and lingered on the line of her collarbone.
"You taste of spring," he murmured as he trailed his tongue down to the tip of her nipple.
Darcy moaned as she arched her back in silent invitation. "What does spring taste like?" she demanded.
His fangs pierced her skin to taste of her sweetness.
"Honey," he whispered, his tongue continuing to tease the hard nub, "and nectar, and sunshine."
Her eyes squeezed shut at his insistent caresses. "Cripes."
"I've only started, angel," he promised, his hands following the slender lines of her waist.
With a minimum of fuss he had her pants undone. Pulling them downward, he tugged them off, along with her shoes. Then, as long as he was down there, he nibbled the tender arch of her foot and sucked her toes into his mouth.
She gave a soft cry as he slowly meandered up her calf, pausing to tease the back of her knee. He hadn't lied. She did taste of nectar. Sweet enough to cloud the mind of any vampire.
Dragging his tongue up the tempting vein of her inner thigh, Styx shuddered with longing. This time was for Darcy, but soon he intended to return to this precise spot and taste her as only a vampire could.
Giving her the lightest of nips, he worked his way upward, spreading her legs to seek out her most sensitive flesh.
"Styx." Her fingers clenched in his hair as he stroked his tongue through the moist heat. "Oh ..."
He smiled as she nearly pulled his hair out by its roots. The pain was a small price to pay for her husky moans of desire.
Dipping his tongue deep into her, Styx pleasured her with a steady rhythm. Her hips writhed as her moans became breathless pants. She was close. He could taste it on his lips.
With a last, loving stroke Styx pressed himself upward, claiming her mouth in a fierce kiss. Her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist as he lifted his hips and with one smooth thrust buried himself deep inside her.
They clutched at one another as the pleasure rolled over them in searing waves.
"You must truly be an angel," he breathed as he slowly pulled out of her to thrust back with a roll of his hips. "Because you have shown me heaven."
She gave a soft laugh that was choked off with a groan as her back arched in building excitement.
Spreading kisses over her beautiful face, he pumped himself into her heat. This was heaven. And she was his angel. He buried his face in the curve of her neck. Continuing his relentless pace, he waited for her to tense beneath him.
It was when she gave a soft cry of release that he allowed his fangs to slip into her skin and he sucked in the very essence of her. With one last thrust he buried himself as deeply as he could reach and allowed his climax to slam into her with electric force.
Bloody hell.
It was a good thing he was an immortal.
Surely such pleasure would put a mere man in his grave.
Chapter Ten
"This way."
Salvatore allowed Hess to lead him to the dank basement of their current lair. His mood was almost as foul as the thick air that cloaked around them.
Sophia would arrive in Chicago in less than a week and he still did not have Darcy in his clutches.