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.
Now Hess was moaning about some sly intruder who supposedly had slipped into the building through the sewers and was now set to ...
Well, Hess hadn't been entirely clear on what he suspected the intruder intended to do. Of course, Hess rarely bothered to use the lumpy gray mass that was stuck in his skull.
Why bother thinking when you could flounder around with raw instinct?
Thankfully unaware of Salvatore's less than complimentary thoughts, Hess came to a sudden halt and peered into the inky blackness.
"There, I warned you," the cur hissed, his finger pointing toward a distant corner. "An intruder."
A jolt of surprise raced through Salvatore as he studied the tiny demon who was currently grumbling beneath his breath as he attempted to clean his delicate wings.
He sniffed deeply, unable to believe this stroke of fortune.
"The gargoyle. The same one I smelled at Styx's lair," he whispered. "How intriguing."
Hess stiffened, the air prickling about him as he struggled not to shift into wolf. "He belongs to the vampire?"
"So it would seem."
"Not much of a gargoyle. I will swallow him in one bite."
The larger man stepped forward only to come to a sharp halt as Salvatore reached out to grasp his arm.
"No."
"But..."
"He's obviously here as a spy for the vampires." Salvatore's gaze remained upon the gargoyle, who was shaking his tail and still muttering. "It is only polite to ensure that he has something to take back to his master."
Hess quivered with outrage. "Have you lost your mind? We should kill him."
"Really, Hess." Salvatore sighed. Curs. "You're always so eager to solve your problems with violence when diplomacy would serve you so much better."
"When you kill your enemies, you don't need diplomacy."
"And what good does a corpse do you?" Salvatore demanded.
Hess growled deep in his throat. "They lie on the ground and don't cause trouble."
"A lesson, my friend," Salvatore drawled. "A wise man can use everyone. Even his enemies."
A strained beat passed as Hess struggled to make his brain function. "The gargoyle?"
"And through him his master," Salvatore murmured, a smile touching his lips.
"You were quick enough to fire an arrow at the vampire," the cur groused.
Salvatore shrugged. He couldn't deny that he had taken great pleasure in putting the arrogant bastard on the ground. The only pity was that he hadn't managed to kill him.
"Well, he did make such an irresistible target," he drawled. "Tonight, however, I intend to use another sort of arrow to shoot at the Anasso."
"What will you do?"
"Let me worry about the gargoyle," Salvatore commanded. "I want you to make sure your curs don't stumble over him. We want the tiny demon to believe that he managed to slip in and out undetected."
Hess hesitated before giving a shrug and slipping through the darkness. The cur might prefer a more bloodthirsty response to the intruder, but he possessed enough intelligence to do as he was told.
Dismissing his servant from his mind, Salvatore returned his attention to the gargoyle, who was carefully making his way across the damp floor.