A Vampire for Christmas(76)
Angelina called out his name and held his head to her. He could wait no longer.
In one slow stroke he entered her tightness until the fragile barrier provided resistance. He experienced the tension in her body as he pressed forward.
He skimmed one hand across her cheek as he promised, “The hurt will fade.”
I trust you,” she repeated again, worrying her bottom lip with uncertainty.
He nodded and grasped her hips, the cotton of her skirt laundry-soft and care-worn beneath his hands. The drape of her skirts hid their union, but he wanted to see. Needed to see.
Lifting the skirts high and bundling them at her waist, he watched as he withdrew with care, mindful of her state. A mistake, he realized, as the faint scent of blood mixed with that of their loving and pulled at the demon.
He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, fighting the vampire who wanted a taste of that virgin’s desire.
The demon he hated because releasing it brought pain and hurt.
Damien? Is something wrong?”
He shook his head, but then her hand slipped up over his chest, directly above his heart. “I love you, Damien. Do not shut me out.”
Gritting his teeth, because the pain in his jaw warned him that the vampire was about to emerge, he met her gaze with his.
Her eyes widened with surprise as they took in the growing neon in his gaze. He could feel his humanity losing out to the demon.
What…what’s happening?” she asked, but there was no fear or uncertainty in her voice, which surprised him.
I’m not what you think I am,” he replied, the low growl of the demon threaded through his voice.
Her easy smile calmed him as did the tender caress of her hand at the spot over his heart. “I think you are a good person.” She stroked her hand over his heart again and continued. “I know your heart is true.”
He groaned then, with joy and pain. He had not been a good man and as a demon he had done things that sickened him. Despite all that, she still believed in him.
Emotion rose up in him, nearly choking him and breaking the control he had been exerting. A sharp burst of pain came as his fangs exploded, erupting beyond his top lip.
He expected her to scream. To rip her body from his and run away. But instead, she offered up another smile, a determined one this time.
Raising her other hand, she cupped his jaw and traced the line of his lips and fangs. Explored them with a mix of fascination and love.
You are not afraid?” he asked, narrowing his eyes as he considered her reaction.
I’ve always sensed you were different, and no, I am not afraid. I love you,” she replied, her answer clear and without doubt.
Inside him came a freedom and lightness of being he had not experienced in too long. Not since his mother had anyone given him love so unequivocally and so freely. As much as he feared that he did not deserve such love, because of the man he had been and the demon he had become, he would not cast such a gift aside.
I think I love you, too,” Damien answered, his heart filled with joy at the admission.
No sooner had the words left him than he experienced a vicious jerk at his center. Panic replaced the happiness he had been feeling on that year-ago Christmas Eve.
He was leaving her again. Leaving the vision filled with their joy and love.
No,” he shouted, but in his mind Angelina’s voice came instead, both soothing and punishing at the same time.
Maybe one lesson learned. I think. But not another.
Damien was painfully conscious of what would happen next.
CHAPTER SIX
WIND RACED PAST HIM as he once again flew from his body and departed the vision he had been reliving. Long moments idled while a whirlwind of images raced by.
His abrupt landing on the floor before the Angelina of the present rattled his teeth and painfully jarred his bones. But Damien had only a moment to recover before the walls of his bedroom transformed once more, becoming the calm waters off the Jersey Shore. He recognized the precise moment in time and that less than a dozen hours had passed since his lunchtime tryst with Angelina.
A schooner was sailing parallel to the beachfront during a dark moonless night that hid its passage.
Ramirez’s ship—although Damien hadn’t known it at the time.
Damien had been given the details for the rum pickup and the money to make the purchase. As always, he had set off down the river inlet to meet the ship, collect the liquor and return it to shore for distribution. He made similar trips once or twice a week, managing to avoid the Coast Guard and others intent on stopping the flow of alcohol to the many clandestine bars and speakeasies that had sprung up during Prohibition.