Read CONCEPTION (The Others) Online

Authors: Sarah McCarty

CONCEPTION (The Others) (10 page)

“So
this means you’ll be off drinking with the boys and fooling around with other
women in about two years?”

He shook his head at her foolishness. “You know that is not
true.”

“I don’t know anything about you.”

He stroked her hair, offering the only comfort he could.
“You know in your heart all you need to know.”

“I happen to be a logical person.”

She had the least logical mind he’d ever touched. “You did
not question the rightness of our union last year.”

She hesitated. He could feel the effort to lie in her mind,
the wave of loss before she hedged the truth. “Last year was different.”

“Last year I was interrupted, or this conversation would not
be taking place.” Had he had even one more day, she would have been bound to
him for all time. Her love treasured and nurtured and nothing, nothing would
have harmed her.

As if she sensed the rage inside him, she touched his chest,
his throat and lastly his hand where it rested on her thigh, her fingers
stroking soothingly. A glance at her face told him the gesture was unconscious.

“How does one of the Chosen see his wife?” she asked. The
fact that she would not meet his gaze told him his answer mattered.

“A mate is the most precious of gifts to one of the Chosen.
Not all are fortunate enough to find one.” He massaged the tension in her
shoulders. “We mate once and only once, for life.”

“You live a long time.”

“Yes.”

Her hand reached over his shoulder and caught his wrist. “A
long time to be with just one person.”

He knew she could not actually grasp the concept of forever as
the Chosen knew it. She thought in human terms with a human concept of bonds.
“It is an even longer time to have no one.”

Her fingers paused on his wrist, her index finger resting on
a life point. Deliberately? Was she asking for entrance to his mind?

“How can you be so sure I’m your mate?”

He opened his mind. She did not take advantage of the
opportunity. He brushed his lips over the top of her head. He would need to let
her learn to walk before expecting her to run. “All of the Chosen recognize the
one meant for them. There is no doubt.”

Her “For you maybe” was a mutter of frustration. There was a
long pause. He could feel the emotions battering her. He kept the strain from
her body, bound by his word, but could do nothing about the turmoil in her
mind. “You will trust me in this, Edie.”

The muscles under his fingers tensed one by one until he had
to stop the massage for fear of hurting her. “I’m not in the habit of putting
my life in someone else’s hands.”

“For this once you must.” He stretched his fingers down to
the tops of her breasts, measuring the rise and fall of her respiration. “I
cannot let you die.”

“But you don’t normally find mates in humans. Maybe there is
someone of your own—”

He shook his head, cutting off that train of thought. “It is
rare, but the unions have been happy after a period of adjustment.”

“Will your people accept me?”

“My happiness will be theirs.”

“What about your parents?”

“They will be happy for us.”

“Where are they?”

“They live in the Australian compound.”

“They aren’t going to like that I’m human.” Her fingers
clenched on his wrist.

“They will love you.”

“You can’t guarantee that.”

“It is my duty to do so.”

Her sigh came from her toes. She shook her head before
turning to meet his gaze. “It has never been my life’s dream to be someone’s
duty.”

“I have phrased that badly.” Her eyes were of the clearest
blue with navy flecks in the middle. And they held such worry. He would take
her worry from her—shelter her forever if she would let him. He turned her,
lifting her thighs across his. Her lack of protest sent a shaft of concern
deep. It was not his Eden’s nature to be complacent. “As your mate I will care
for you always, place your happiness above mine, your health above mine.”

“And what do I do for you?”

“You give me happiness.”

Her eyes widened. “You expect me to keep you happy forever?”

He leaned down and brushed his mouth across the sun-dusted
tips of her lashes. “Your existence does this.”

“Uh-huh. Unless vampires are very different from humans,
which I severely doubt, this is not going to work.”

“Making it work is my responsibility.” He tilted her head
back with a tug on her hair.

“According to you, everything is your responsibility.”

He ran his tongue over the taut cord in her neck, riding the
delicate surge of muscle as she swallowed hard. She was so incredibly sweet.
“This is so.”

He measured the pulse in the hollow of her throat with his
lips. Her heart rate was a beat faster than normal with her stress. When he
sucked at her skin, it took off racing. He released her flesh and kissed the
reddened area softly, enjoying the increased heat against his mouth. “Your
worries are groundless.”

“I don’t see them as so.”

“I know.” He kissed the soft skin just beneath her jawbone.
“But still you must make a decision.”

“You could just take the choice away from me…”

He pulled back so he could see her eyes. They were dark with
anxiety, and the desire she did not understand. He felt the weakness dragging
at her intensify. She was losing her battle to hold onto the life she
understood. “Is this your preference?”

There was a long pause in which he knew she was considering
it. He could do it easily. Tapping into the primitive side of his soul that
screamed for him to secure her any way he could would take no more effort than
succumbing. He held himself back, allowing her that last decision. Finally, she
shook her head. Her jaw set in that stubborn way he was fast coming to
appreciate. “No.”

“Then decide.”

Chapter Seven

 

Decide.

To die forever or to live forever. That was a hell of a
decision to be making on the fly.

Eden looked Deuce over, from the harsh, uncompromising lines
of his face to the broad, heavily muscled expanse of his shoulders. Nothing
about the man said easy. And despite her experience that said he could be
civilized, everything about him screamed danger. But nothing, nothing said
deceit.

“Do you promise I won’t become a vampire?”

“I promise.”

He watched her with those old eyes. Patient eyes, but
beneath her hands, she could feel his impatience humming. The weaker she got
the higher the thrum. She tried to imagine how he felt. She’d gone through her
whole life knowing she might have multiple relationships over its course,
expecting love to come and go, holding back because she never wanted the loss. He’d
gone through centuries knowing he had only one, and only if he could find her.
And now he thought she was it and he was losing her. A piece of lint tangled in
the long strands of his hair. She picked it free, pausing as a dark strand
slipped over her thumb, looking very stark against her skin. She didn’t know
why he hadn’t forced her before now. She would have. She would never have
risked letting her one chance at happiness slip away. The fact that he would,
emphasized the differences between them.

She touched his biceps, letting the hard muscle shape her
grip. There was no give anywhere on the man. “I want a promise from you.”

“What?”

“I want you to promise to never hit me.”

“Done.”

“That was awfully fast.” Too fast. As if he sensed how hard
it was for her to lift her head, he cupped her skull in his palm, his thumbs
and fingers gently kneading at the ache in her temples. “You are my mate. It is
impossible for me to harm you.”

That was good to know. His touch was soothing, healing. The
pain in her head faded so she could think. The bottom line was—if she didn’t
live, she had no more choices. She was a big fan of choices. She took a deep
breath. “Fix me, Deuce.”

His satisfaction exploded through her in a rush. Hot on the
heels of his satisfaction came his pleasure—too hard, too fast. She got an
impression of his enjoyment of her scent, the smoothness of her skin, and a
flash of worry before it became too much. She tried to slam her mind closed,
met the barrier of his strength and felt that knifing pain in her skull that
had her crying out just as his mouth met hers.

Immediately, the pain was gone and so was the onslaught. The
struggle to breathe eased, and she was able to absorb the feel of his lips on
hers. Cool and smooth, they parted. His tongue traced the seam of her mouth.
“Open for me.”

It was an order, pure and simple. She obeyed because she
couldn’t help herself. Not with the promise of his taste just beyond her reach,
a link between past and present. Not when the memory of that taste had
sustained her through hell. When it came to him, her body had a life of its
own, wanting his beyond reason and sense. Her lips parted. His tongue thrust
past, and his flavor—that uniquely addictive flavor—filled her mouth, sending
shockwaves of hunger spiraling downward. She needed more. She dug her
fingertips into his shoulders, trying to pull him closer.

The bed rocked as he shifted his weight. His chest dragged
across her breasts. She reveled in the sensation, arching her back, offering
him more. She was so lost in her sensory feast that it took her a moment to
realize he’d removed her hands from his shoulders and relocated them to his
chest. A flash of embarrassment had her ducking her chin. His lips brushed her
temple, her ear.

“Just let me do this, Edie mine,” he murmured. “Just relax
and give me the pleasure of caring for you.”

“I don’t want to relax.”

“You do not have the strength to do more.”

Her body didn’t care. She reached for him. He shook his head.
His hair swept her breasts, sending shivers down her spine.

“You may not move.”

“I have to.”

“You will tell me what you want and I will give it to you,
but you must not move.”

Her breasts ached. Her nipples strained. His chest was mere
inches away. All that muscle and heat denied her. “Why?”

“You are very fragile.”

“I feel fine.”

“I am glad, but still you will not strain yourself.”

His
tongue stroked over her lips before sliding within. She wrapped her tongue
around his, savoring the flavor, dragging into herself more of the necessity
her body craved. He held her close, his arms supporting, letting her take what
she needed, his moan a hot encouragement to take more. His mouth opened wider,
his tongue sank deeper. She sucked harder. It wasn’t enough. He had to give her
more. Her hands curled into fists. He pulled her closer, trapping her hands
between them, forbidding her movement.

“More,” she whispered into his mouth, crying out when he
nipped her lower lip.

“More what?”

She didn’t know, exactly. She just knew when he kissed her
some of the awful hunger was appeased. “Kiss me more.”

His laugh caressed her cheek with moist heat. “You are easy
to please.”

No, she wasn’t. His tongue reentered her mouth on a sure
thrust, bringing back to her what her body ached for. His big body curved
around her, sheltering her even as he plundered her mouth. She inhaled his
scent, his strength. Took from him all he had to give, but it still wasn’t
enough. She was starving. She didn’t know for what, but instinct told her he had
what she needed. She yanked her fist free and pounded at his chest. He caught
her hand. Every cell in her body ached. He’d promised to provide for her, and
he was holding back. “Give it to me.”

He frowned down at her, something dark and scary moving in
his eyes before it was carefully banked. “You will have patience, my mate. I
know what you need, but it will be given at my pace.”

“No!” If he knew what she needed then he knew how badly she
needed it. She turned her face into his chest and bit down, surrendering to the
ravenous monster inside.

Deuce’s shout was equally primal. His big hands locked her
mouth to his flesh, encouraging rather than discouraging her frenzy. Against
her hip, his cock surged, hard and hungry. Above her, his growl lingered on the
air. The hot, coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. She had no time for
thought or repulsion, because under that taste was something else. Something
her body recognized on a cellular level.

She drew more of that elusive necessity into her mouth,
closing her eyes in bliss as it slid down her throat. Cells that had been
shriveled and wasted expanded as she swallowed, pounding at her for more. The
need for survival, a primitive driving force too strong to be denied, had her
locking her jaw. He caught her head in his hands, to pull her away. She snarled
and swung at him.

“Not yet, Edie. Not yet.”

“Now!” she screamed through clenched teeth.

With a harsh groan, he tore her free. The loss hit her like
a blow, doubling her over with the agony. “Oh God, don’t do this to me.”

She couldn’t take it. Couldn’t take another person torturing
her with what she needed only to pull it away when it was within reach.

“Edie, you will look at me.”

She didn’t take her eyes off his chest and the rich red
blood pouring down it. She’d done that to him. Bitten him like an animal. And
God help her, she wanted to do it again. He cupped her head in his hands and
forced her gaze up.

“I know what you need, Edie. How you need it, but it cannot
be all at once.” His breath caught as he shook his head, his frown a death
knell to her hopes. “It cannot.”

She wanted to scream, rant and cry. She didn’t recognize
herself and the beast that prowled her insides, but she couldn’t help herself
either. She’d do anything he wanted if only he’d give her more. “Please, Deuce.
Please.”

He swore and shook his head, his thick black hair falling
into his face. His sensual mouth thinned.

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