Even with her eyes closed, Darcy would know the touch of his hands, the scent of his body. It was branded onto her heart, and no other man would ever be capable of stirring her with such desire.
"Please," she pleaded softly. "I need you, Styx."
"As I need you, my angel." There was a faint rustle as he dealt with his clothing, and then the cool, hard strength of him was stretched on the bed beside her. "As I will always need you. For all eternity."
His voice held a soft urgency that made his words a solemn pledge, and her eyes flew open to meet the dark glitter of his gaze.
"Styx, let's not speak of the future," she pleaded. "I only want to be in this moment."
He regarded her as if he wished to argue, but at last he gave a slow nod of his head.
"Then let us make this moment something to remember," he rasped.
Without warning, his mouth was on her own with a stark passion that instantly sent a shudder of excitement racing through her.
Her arms wrapped around his neck and she returned his hunger with ready enthusiasm. His lips were cool and demanding as they drank of her response. A deep growl rumbled in his throat as his hands greedily ran over her naked body, sparking pinpricks of fire over her skin.
His tongue entered her mouth as his fangs pressed her lips. She tangled her tongue with his, her head lifting to better enjoy the taste of him. Her fierce response caught him off guard, and Darcy suddenly had the copper taste of blood in her mouth.
At first she assumed he had nicked her with his fangs, but as he pulled back, she realized that it had been his own lip that had been cut. Instinctively she reached out to lick the bead of blood from his lip.
He made a startled sound of pleasure as his eyes flared with a smoldering fire.
"Yes," he breathed, lowering his head. "Please, angel ..."
Easily able to sense his need, Darcy tugged his lip into her mouth and gently sucked at the small wound. Obviously vampires enjoyed the act of donating blood as much as taking it.
Grasping her hips, he tugged her sharply against his thick arousal.
Darcy gave a small gasp at his tender assault. There was something more between them on this night. A sense that their passions were intertwined, each feeding the other until the very air was alive with desire.
Pulling back, Styx nibbled his way over her cheek and down to her chin. He waited until her head tilted instinctively backward before trailing his tongue down the pulsing vein. At the same moment he gave a gentle tug on her legs, pulling one over his hip so that his hand could slip between them.
Her nails dug into his shoulders as he teased her with a relentless expertise.
Oh .. . cripes. This magic was about to end way too swiftly.
"Not yet," she whispered as he nuzzled her aching breast.
He gave a low, utterly male chuckle, and without warning she found herself flat on her back with him poised above her.
"Now, my sweet angel," he warned her. "Most definitely now."
Her eyes widened as she watched his head dip down so he could trail a path of searing kisses down her body.
More than kisses, she acknowledged as he used his fangs and tongue to send her up in flames. Even the brush of his hair was a caress as it slid over her skin.
Her fingers returned to clutching the sheets as he slowly and methodically investigated every inch of her quivering body. The pleasure was nearly overwhelming, her senses honed to a near painful edge.
"Styx," she breathed, barely resisting the urge to grab his hair and drag him back up to cover her.
"Yes, angel?" he demanded while planting those maddening kisses over the gentle swell of her stomach.
"You said now."
He laughed softly as he settled even more firmly between her legs and nuzzled the inner softness of her thigh.
"So I did." His tongue stroked over her skin. "And I am always a man of my word."
Expecting him to shift over her, Darcy was unprepared when she felt a faint pressure and then Styx's fangs sliding deep into her thigh.
She gave a small yelp as she nearly leaped off the bed. Not in pain, or even fear. But simply in pure erotic bliss.
Nothing, nothing at all, could compare to the sensation of such an intimate vampire feeding.
With each pull her entire body tightened, spiraling higher and higher. Her heart thundered and her breath was locked in her lungs.
It was too much.
She gave a strangled moan and, as if waiting for that particular sound, Styx began moving with fluid speed. He kneeled between her spread legs, his hands shifting beneath her hips to lift her lower body off the mattress.
Darcy was briefly startled, feeling oddly vulnerable as he gazed down at her with smoldering desire. Then any coherent thought was vanquished as with one firm thrust he entered her.
Her teeth clenched as he stretched and filled her completely. She could feel him in every part of her body as if his essence was spreading through her very blood.
For a moment he held himself still, as if savoring the feel of being so deeply speared within her. Only when she was certain that she could bear no more did he slowly begin to rock his hips, pumping himself in and out of her with a steady pace.
Her legs wrapped around his waist as she welcomed him into her body, meeting each thrust with a lift of her hips.
He gave a deep groan as his head fell back and his face tightened with a sensual concentration. His hair flowed down his back and the small medallion slid over the smooth bronze of his chest.
Darcy was quite certain she had never seen anything so beautiful.
Her dark, powerful Aztec.
His pace quickened, driving him deeper and deeper into her, and Darcy closed her eyes as her lower body clenched with that sweet tension. A shimmering joy hummed through her, sharpening and focusing until at last her release exploded with a shattering force.
She cried out at the same moment that Styx gave a low shout, and with one last, delicious thrust, he buried himself deep inside her.
Chapter Seventeen
Salvatore returned to his decrepit lair and closeted himself in his cramped office.
Some might claim that he had gone in there to sulk. Never to his face, of course. But Salvatore contented himself with the thought that he was merely considering his options.
Almost absently he gazed out the darkened window as he recalled his brief encounter with Darcy.
She was a beautiful thing. There was no questioning that. And he was confident he would have no trouble bedding the woman. Which, of course, was the entire point of tracking her down.
Still, he couldn't deny that she was not his usual type.
There was none of the dangerous fire that might lash out with lethal force. None of the raw, smoldering sensuality that enticed every male in her vicinity. None of the restless energy that marked most Weres.