Raven Walks (21 page)

Only not dead in a grave, dead... dead like
Raven, dead.

A tear rolled down her face as her thoughts
returned to a time she had fought like hell to forget.

But that was impossible to do. Her sister
would soon learn that very painful lesson herself. Once you fall in
love with a vampire, you never get over it.

She sighed as she slipped into bed with
Hunter, and he stirred and turned away. That suited her just fine.
If Hunter knew how her thoughts betrayed her she’d never be able to
forgive herself. He had saved her from an eternity of the undead –
he could never, ever know how much she still thought about what
might have been.

She closed her eyes and she could see the
glistening water that surrounded the Azores Islands of Portugal.
She’d gone there right after the debacle with Abi and Hunter,
seemingly a great place to escape from her troubles. A place to
forget, and to be forgotten.

So when the striking, older man with long
black hair down to his waist passed her on the beach one moonless
night, she had no idea her life was about to be irrevocably
changed.

His eyes were green like hers, and deep as
the deepest sea. When he looked at her she felt like he could see
every place she’d ever been or everything she’d ever seen. Never
had she felt the way she felt just by looking into his eyes.

It was like coming home.

He’d spoken to her in Portuguese at first,
and when she shook her head with an embarrassed smile he finally
said, “I said your hair is lovely,” in perfect English with nary an
accent.

“Thank you,” she said, a blush creeping up
her neck. He turned away then, and she felt like an awkward
teenager. She turned away but he touched her arm, and she felt
every nerve ending come alive at his fingertips.

“May I buy you a drink?” he asked with a warm
smile.

She mumbled something that passed for an
acceptance and then followed him along the cool sand toward an
outdoor cafe. The maitre d had an instant smile for the unusual man
and seated them immediately ahead of the line formed at the
bar.

She sat across from him at the candlelit
table and he gave her a big smile. “Thank you for joining me. I
always hate to drink alone.” He snapped his finger and a waiter
immediately brought him a bottle of red wine.

“Thank you,” she offered shyly, still feeling
completely out of his league. This was a man with worldly
sophistication and of obvious wealth. What on earth did he want
with her?

“My name is Stephen,” he offered.

“Gina,” she supplied and he had to
chuckle.

“Surprised it’s not Ginger,” he remarked as
he motioned to her head. “Like your hair.” Back then it was the
same copper as her sister’s, the same look that made them both look
like twins.

Gina just nodded, blushed and looked away.
What was this power his eyes had over her? She felt naked before
him, and it wasn’t exactly unpleasant, though it should have
been.

“America,” he deduced. “The south,
specifically.”

“You’re good,” she told him.

“I spent some time in the States. I always
had a weakness for the Southern accent. Even one as subtle as
yours.”

She took a sip of the blood-red wine,
suddenly needing the liquid courage.

He took charge of the conversation, and they
talked until the restaurant closed. Reluctant to leave each other’s
company, they walked the length of the beach and back. He spoke
about his mother, and how she inspired his love of music before her
untimely death. And she found herself admitting to him what had
happened with Hunter and Abi.

They sat next to each other in the sand, and
he took her hand in his. “He’s a fool,” he told her softly.

A lone tear raced down her cheek as her sad
eyes met his. “I’m the fool.”

He brushed her hair from her face, and the
loving gesture was all it took to burst through the dam she’d built
to keep all those emotions in check. She openly sobbed and he
rocked her as she wept, his lips against her hair, murmuring
soothing words and stroking her back.

When she glanced up, she lost herself in
those bright green eyes that didn’t judge her, that looked at her
like she was the only person on Earth. Her chin tipped up and he
responded by leaning the rest of the way for her kiss. His full,
soft lips opened over hers, and her hand slipped up into the silky
length of his hair. He groaned against her mouth which prompted her
to deepen the kiss. She opened her mouth to him and his tongue
blended with hers as she pulled him down with her into the
sand.

She needed to feel loved, to feel chosen, and
this enigmatic man was fulfilling both of those things. His fingers
traced her face as he alternated between soft sweet kisses and
deep, passionate ones. His hair spilled over his shoulder and
tickled her cheek and neck, and her hands explored the muscles of
his back while they simply savored each other’s kisses. He never
tried to take advantage of her emotional state, even though she
could feel his desire as he pressed against her body. When he
pulled away, she almost whimpered in disappointment.

“I must go,” he whispered. “The sun will be
up soon.”

“I could go with you,” she offered bravely,
but he shook his head.

“Not tonight,” he said and the look on his
face left no room for argument. He stood up, before offering her a
hand to pull her to her feet.

He spied her slight pout and gave her a
brilliant smile. “Don’t be sad, little one,” he whispered with one
last, brief but sweet, kiss on her mouth. “Meet me tomorrow. As
soon as the sun sets.”

And so they met like that every night. They
talked about everything and nothing, and ended every night wrapped
in each other’s arms on that sandy beach. They kissed, they talked,
and sometimes they just held each other and said nothing at all. In
his arms she felt needed and valued – and it was exactly what she
needed.

Finally, six weeks into their love affair,
she told him she wanted to be with him in every way. A tear hovered
in his eye when told her simply, “No”, and left her way before the
sun was due to rise.

For at least two weeks she waited for him
each and every night, and each and every night he didn’t show up.
She walked the beach until she’d collapse on the sand in complete
exhaustion. Finally, two weeks and two days from the moment he had
rejected her, he appeared on the beach like a mirage. She wanted to
run to him but stopped herself. She couldn’t stand the humiliation
if he were to reject her again.

Lightning lit up the sky from an approaching
storm, but nothing matched the storm inside when she looked into
those eyes once more. He said nothing as he turned and walked away,
and despite her initial reluctance she decided to follow him
anyway.

She followed him all the way up the hill to
an old villa overlooking the ocean, turbulent now from the incoming
storm. She shut the door behind her and entered the dimly lit room,
stopping only when she saw his darkened silhouette facing the big
window that faced the sea.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he told her quietly
without turning around.

“Then why did you bring me?” she
challenged.

“There’s a storm,” he said in a flat tone.
“And I knew you would not leave that beach until morning.”

She came up behind him and realized that the
window overlooked the very beach where she had fallen in love with
this strange, unavailable man. “You’ve been watching me?”

“How could I not?” he answered, emotion
choked in his voice.

She touched his arm and he turned to face
her, his eyes bright with tears.

It was all she needed to pull him into her
arms for a sweet, overdue kiss. Gone were the tentative,
exploratory kisses. Both of them were driven by a need so primal
that their hands and lips and tongues were savage in their
possession. Without breaking their embrace he led her over to the
sofa, where they sunk together. His hands tore away her shirt while
her hands slid up his bare back under his clothes.

Thunder underscored their hearts beating hard
against their chests, and lightning lit up the darkened room to
illuminate their flesh as eager hands tore away restrictive
clothing. His mouth planted hot, open-mouthed kisses across her
chest until he could push away her bra and capture her hard nipple
into his mouth.

She gasped out loud and grasped his hair in
her hand while she wrapped one leg around his waist. “Stephen,” she
murmured as she ground against him, blinded with her need to be
possessed by him. “Love me,” she begged.

He reached up to kiss her. “I do,” he said
against her lips.

That was all she needed. She tore open his
shirt and fumbled with his pants. Impatient, he helped her unfasten
the button and push the fabric down over his hips. She gasped when
she saw his erect member for the first time. She needed him more
than she had ever needed anyone, so she pulled him back on top of
her.

The rain pounded against the window as
thunder rattled the walls, but all that mattered was that he was
naked in her arms, about to make love to her the way she had hoped
he would for weeks. She kicked her own pants free and shrugged from
her shirt until she was naked under him.

He positioned himself between her legs and
she felt the head of his cock enter her slowly. Her legs scissored
behind him to press him in, but he savored every inch. His eyes
locked her in his gaze as he opened her up to him, so slowly and so
tantalizingly. Her eyes widened as he reached deep inside of her,
almost where no one had been before.

His mouth clamped down on her breast again as
he began to stroke inside of her, slowly at first, taking his time,
driving her crazy. She ground against him, her fingers tangled in
his hair. He put a hand under each of her knees and pressed her
further into the sofa with each deliberate thrust. He knew just
where to touch her, just where to kiss, just how to position
himself so that he hit that magical spot inside of her more and
more until she was screaming under him.

Once her massive orgasm had passed, she
glanced up at him. His long, dark hair spilled over his shoulders
and down his chest. His eyes were luminous, almost as though they
glowed. But it was the look on his face that made her heart skip a
beat. It was one of raw hunger, as though he could have consumed
her on the spot.

His motions sped up, and his need was driving
her back over the edge. “Stephen,” she murmured again. “Tell
me.”

She wasn’t sure what she wanted to hear when
she asked, but when he leaned down and told her, “I want to taste
you,” she knew that was exactly the answer she needed to hear.

It was only when he lifted up and lightning
glinted off of his protruding fangs that she understood what he
meant. She gasped, this time in fear, and attempted to scoot out
from under him. “What the hell?”

He shuddered as he was pulled from her body,
right on the edge of everything he desired. But he let her move
away, let her scramble to the other end of the sofa where she
curled up into a ball and stared at him in wide eyed terror.

“Now you know why I had to leave you,” he
said, his fangs still as prominent as his erection.

“I don’t understand.”

“Yes, you do,” he said sadly.

She embraced herself by pulling herself into
a tighter ball. Her body still trembled from the force of her first
orgasm, and her entire body felt branded by his touch... a touch
she had wanted. “What do you want from me?” she asked, fear laced
in her tone.

A tear trailed down his face. “Your love,” he
answered simply.

And as he said that, she didn’t see his
fangs. All she saw were his eyes, those luminous, bright green eyes
that embraced her soul. Slowly she reached out and captured the
tear from his cheek, and it was his turn to sob.

She pulled him into her arms and rocked him
as he wept, her lips against his hair and her hand rubbed his back.
No words were spoken, they just held each other as the storm raged
outside. Nothing matched the storm in her heart, as she wrestled
with the idea this man she’d fallen hopelessly in love with wasn’t
a man at all – but a monster who wanted to kill her.

Yet there was no malice in the hands that
touched her body, or the mouth that had kissed her so lovingly from
the first night they met. He had loved her enough to leave her,
rather than possess her when she had originally asked.

She was so confused.

Then he looked into her eyes. There was
nothing there but love, a love so big it chased away all of her
fear. And this time when she bent to kiss him she knew exactly what
it meant to incite his passion. But she wasn’t afraid.

She was in love.

And she wanted to give herself to him without
reservation... whatever that meant.

So she pressed him back on the sofa,
straddling his lap and cradling his face in both of her hands. She
kissed him softly and thoroughly as she gyrated slowly against his
limp penis. It, along with his ardor, began to rise as she pressed
her breasts against his chest and trailed her mouth along the line
of his neck.

He grabbed her hips with his hands and guided
her against his growing erection until he was hard enough to slip
back inside of her. His head tipped back against the sofa as he
thrust himself against her, rubbing against her swollen clit and
driving her crazy with his teasing.

When her teeth nipped at his neck, it was
more than he could stand. He drove himself up inside of her, making
her cry out with how deep and how hard he was. She rocked against
him, reveling in the power of controlling the tempo of their erotic
dance. His fingertips bit into the soft skin of her ass as he
thrust up inside of her.

Her eyes locked into his. “I love you,” she
whispered, fucking him harder as she watched his fangs grow. “All
of you,” she naively promised.