Dark heiress, p.39
Dark Heiress, page 39
part #5 of Ema Marx Series
His length stood erect—and thank the freaking sex gods he never wore underwear.
Jesu hooked his free hand under my left knee and lifted my leg, guiding my foot to the coffee table. I planted my foot, and he planted his dick.
Right where I wanted it.
He went balls deep, and I whimpered at the fullness of it. With that same fluid motion, he lifted my upper body, holding me close. I gasped as my hands splayed against his chest, and our noses tipped. My eyes swam to meet his, and I was close enough to see my reflection in his eyes.
Jesu rolled his hips. I started at the sensation, gaping slightly, then moved with him.
As my insides quivered, I gripped his jaw in one hand and kissed him hard. “Couch,” I demanded. “Now.”
He obliged.
Vacating my core for a painful moment, Jesu dropped his ass onto the couch and then held his arms out to receive me. I straddled him, one knee on each side of his big masculine thighs, then gloved that man where he belonged. Jesu closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the overstuffed tweed as I rode him good. I pressed my lips to a delicate spot of skin just under his jaw and play-nibbled, loving the way he tensed up tight in anticipation.
“Go for it,” he groaned, gripping my ass as I kissed and licked and nibbled and fucked.
With his permission granted, I opened my mouth wide and sunk my fangs into his vein. Just like last time, the skin seemed to pop before giving way, but the rush of blood that followed was instant, the liquid exploding against my tongue in a jolt of rich metallic flavors.
Jesu moaned his enjoyment as his fingertips dug unto my shoulder. With this other hand, he pressed against the small of my back, urging me to fuck him harder. I did, but not so fast that it compromised my hold on his neck. Drawing my fangs out slowly, I sealed my lips over the wound and pulled a long, greedy sip from his vein.
“Oh ... peska!”
He came, and this time the warmth that spilled into me was enough to force my own instantaneous orgasm. I cried out as tremors rolled through me with a force that seemed to tip my very being off a cliff. I felt a spasm that started somewhere high in my belly and ended in my groin, where it spilled out; hot, moist, and fragrant.
When all was said and done, I flopped against Jesu’s chest.
We sat on the couch, in a pool of sweat and other fluids, still joined at the hips but completely deflated from everything including brain function.
Jesu recovered first. He swiped my slick hair away from my face and chuckled. “Are you all right?”
I opened my mouth to reply, but the scent of Sara’s essence leaked into my nose, and panic spilled into my blood, prompting me to clamp my mouth shut. I could tell Jesu sensed her nearness too when his arms snaked tightly around me and he sat upright, his gaze going to the edge of the loft.
Her soft voice echoed from deep within the narrowed passaged.
“Erm ... I know you’re not decent, so I won’t come any closer. But um, if you could perhaps shower and dress quickly? Your presence is requested in the North wing.” After a long pause, she added, “Both of you.”
The two of us sighed in relief when the princess’ meager footsteps faded away.
“What do you think that was about?” Jesu inquired.
I chuckled softly while pressing my nose and lips against this chest. “Buck up, Daddy. They threw us a baby shower.”
Chapter 33
Shifting clothes into place but without bothering to button anything, Jesu and I descended the iron spiral to the kitchenette. I emptied the wine glass and then frowned at how bland the blood tasted compared to Jesu’s. “I think you got me hooked on the good stuff.”
Jesu chuckled. “Are you calling me top-shelf?”
“Hell yeah I am. Especially that ass.”
He smirked. “No street corners for me then. Celebrity escort services only.”
“I’ll get my pimp hat.”
His mouth tipped sideways. “Just get in the shower, woman.”
“Okay.”
We stripped, soaked under the streaming shower head, stole a quickie to work through my bloodlust, then washed and dried. I struggled to lift my feet high enough to step out of the tub. The muscles between my thighs felt like jelly. Delightfully exhausted jelly. Jesu noticed my struggle and offered me a hand. How his legs still worked was a mystery.
“Why does the room animate when we make love?” I wondered out loud while leaning against Jesu as I stepped out of the tub.
“What do you mean?” He draped a towel across my shoulders.
I pulled the terrycloth under my arms and wrapped it around my torso, then eyed him. “Come on. It can’t just be me. The entire room ...,” I waved a hand through the air, “... It ... I don’t know ... pulses?”
Jesu found a comb and worked it through his hair. “Are you referring to your heartbeat?”
I thought about it and blinked. “That can’t just be me. It’s like every single item in the room has a heartbeat.”
The groove of Jesu’s dimple deepened. “Inanimate objects do not suddenly grow organs. You heard your pulse hammer in your ears. We have sensitive hearing. It can be overwhelming.”
I pressed my lips together. It is possible. My heart beat so fast and strong in the heat of the moment, it was a wonder my heart didn’t burst from my chest. But contrary to what Jesu believed, inanimate objects did vibrate. When I phased, I could feel them. Every object. Every sound. Every atom. Protons and electrons were constantly in motion, and when my essence was thin enough to disappear from sight, the things the mundane and preternatural alike could not see with the naked eye were suddenly laid bare to my sense of touch. Even rocks had a pulse. A frequency.
Maybe I phased a little without realizing it.
I had levitated last time. A lot about intercourse was biological, and given the nature of Neo-Draugrian biology, I wouldn’t be surprised if we all went a little fuzzy around the edges after a good orgasm.
“You still have clothes in your old room.” Jesu inclined his head in the direction of the spare bedroom directly across from the bathroom, where I had stayed when I first came to Finland.
I stepped across the hall and opened the door with bated breath. It was smaller than I remembered. Simpler. With a twin-sized bed pushed against the far wall beneath a circular window no bigger than my own head. In the wall parallel to the bed, near the foot-end, was an indent in the gray stone the exact size and shape of my fist.
It was here in this small space that Jesu and I poured over lists of vampyre powers, testing the limits of my abilities. On that very bed I learned to phase, fly, and shift, and was then forced to admit my life had changed forever.
It was within these four walls that I fell in love.
With a heavy heart, I went to the wardrobe and selected clean underwear, socks, and a T-shirt. I forwent the jeans, opting to keep my comfortable maternity pants. Dressed, I ran my fingers through my hair and then met Jesu in the hall. He wore black cotton slacks and a long-sleeved T-shirt, his hair neatly parted down one side, creating a curtain of raven black locks down the other. He tilted his head to peer at me, and I was reminded of the shy soft-spoken vampire I’d met all those months ago.
That man was still in there somewhere, but the Jesu who stood before me now was different. He stood straighter. His shoulders more poised. His gaze sharp. His father’s ring graced his finger not like an obligation weighing him down, but like a prestige lifting him up. The king no longer walked in the shadow of a prince.
“Ready?” he asked.
I swallowed and then shook my head. “We’re forgetting something.”
He arched his brow in askance.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my engagement and wedding rings—the two bands that together formed a fede—and slid them both over my left ring finger.
A muscle tweaked my husband’s jaw as he reached into his own pocket and produced his piece of the gimmel ring. Pushing the band over his left finger, the soft earthly bronze stood out in stark contrast against his pale almost-blue knuckle. It suited him, for a man who ruled the elements to be jeweled by them.
I smiled. “Now we’re ready.”
“There you are!” Princess Sara leaned over the ballroom balcony as we entered from the dining hall. Her hair was clean and shiny and pinned back in a very ladylike manner. She wore a sundress that hugged her small bust and lean waist and tapered out in a flowy A-line skirt that brushed her calves. “Hurry up.”
Jesu and I continued walking at the same pace, but we glanced at each other, smiled, and perhaps climbed the thorn decked stairs a fraction slower.
“Come on, come on, come on.” Sara bounced with excitement at the top of the steps.
“Hm,” Jesu mused. “I think I forgot something back in my rooms.”
“Oh, come on!” Sara reached forward and grabbed his hand before we topped the landing. She pulled him along, urging us both toward the North wing. My smile stretched from ear to ear, her excitement contagious.
At the door to the suite, Sara paused, straightened her skirt, and cleared her throat. “Ema!” She spoke loudly, her dramatic flair aimed at the wooden ingress. “Won’t you come inside for a while!”
Jesu looked at me and cocked his eyebrow.
I pulled both lips between my teeth to refrain from laughing.
Dad opened the door, and the look on his face was priceless. He avoided eye contact and sighed deeply before speaking his lines in a scripted tone. “Ema, my beautiful daughter. What a surprise. Please come inside.” He looked at me and whispered a plea. “Kill me now.”
Sara rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t about to be deterred. She took my hands in hers and led me past the entrance to the breakfast bar. The room was dark, but only my parents were affected. Mom hid behind the couch. Tilly, Sara’s chaperone, crouched beside her, playing along. I didn’t even need eyes to see them, but it was so sweet, I played along as well.
“Dad, why’s it so dark in here? Who turned off the lights?”
Jesu snorted.
At that moment, my father—who stood suspiciously close to a lamp—reached for the switch. It was in the sheer second before the lightbulb brightened that my senses tingled with a warning. We are not alone!
I grabbed Jesu’s wrist and squeezed, but before I could warn anyone, the light brightened.
“SURPRIZE!”
Mom and Tilly leaped from their hiding spots, throwing pink and blue confetti into the air. At the same time vampyres—Councilmen—emerged from the bedrooms with pink and blue party hats, blowing noisemakers. Sara looped a pink lei over my head, and Dad placed a blue one over Jesu’s. The princess’ gaze danced as she pulled me into a hug. “Are you surprised?”
I was, actually. So much so, I didn’t know how to make my mouth work. I was expecting the cheesy cardboard decorations, the cupcakes and refreshments, my parents and Sara, and even Naamah. But my jaw hung open at the half-dozen other vampyres smiling at us. After giving my father a manly hug, Jesu went to the Councilmen and shook their hands, exchanging what sounded like Finnish pleasantries.
“H-how?” I whispered to Sara.
She stood back and admired her work with a smile. “Politics are a funny thing. Just because they may or may not agree with the law doesn’t mean they’re an enemy. The best of them know to check their agenda at the door and just be ... well ... just be.”
I watched as men and women alike patted Jesu’s shoulder. Some congratulated him. Some handed him splendidly wrapped gifts. I was reminded that Jalmari had ruled for two millennia. These people knew Jesu just as long. Maybe he didn’t get to attend meetings or vote, but he had never been alone. Not truly.
“Besides,” said Sara as the guests made their way toward me. “It’s like I told you. This dusty old castle hasn’t had a party—or an heir—in forever.” With that final comment, the princess stepped aside, letting the Councilmen and women faun over me with congratulatory words and congenial questions that ran to the theme of, when are you due? How are you feeling? Twins, you poor thing! I did my best to smile and keep up.
Once the initial greetings were out of the way, the men and women divided themselves. The guys migrated toward the kitchen, where they sat or stood around the breakfast bar with Jesu at the center. A few words of fatherly advice quickly turned into an uproar of dad jokes and stories about their wives. The womenfolk formed a tight circle around me in the living room area where all of us sat thigh to thigh on the couch. The ladies clucked away with stories that mostly centered around labor and delivery. Birthing sizes were tossed into the conversation, and it quickly became a competition of who had squeezed out the largest newborn. When a Councilwoman named Gretta announced her first grandchild had weighed eleven pounds, groans of sympathy ensued for her poor daughter.
I winced to the side, and my gaze found Mona.
She wore a burgundy suit that flattered her slightly thicker frame, her hair an elegant mop of short wispy curls. She caught me looking, and we both tensed. I offered her a smile. She didn’t smile back but gave a curt nod.
So not all of them checked their agenda at the door.
Mona probably wasn’t the only one here who attended out of a sense of obligation or social protocol. Still, better to be the gracious hostess and enjoy myself than to let anyone taint the short time I had left—if only for Jesu’s sake. He would have to deal with these people for the rest of his life.
There were games and gifts—enough to furnish and stock an entire nursery with all the necessities—and when Naamah came forward as the giver of the beautiful double wide oak wood crib, I hugged him and openly wept. Tearlessly, of course, though, it made no difference to the thickness in my throat, the sniffling of my nose, or the bright red flush of Naamah’s equally emotional expression.
A phone rang, and everyone stopped what they were doing to check their mobile devices. For the first time in three hours, the room fell silent.
“It’s me,” Naamah announced. “Excuse me.”
The chatter resumed as Naamah took his call outside.
Mom promptly stood from her seat beside me. “I need to use the lady’s room.” She excused herself.
Sara quickly took Mom’s place, lowering onto the couch cushion with a blue-frosted cupcake in hand. She offered the confection to me. I shook my head and pointed to the three lined up on the coffee table in front of us.
“No, thank you. If I eat one more bite, I’m going to puke.”
Sara furrowed her brow and sniffed the frosting. “Have they gone off?”
“No, they’re great. I’ve just had so many. At this point, my gut is more cupcake factory than baby factory.”
Sara set the dessert on the table with the others. “Are you having a good time?”
“I’m having a wonderful time. Truly. This is more than I ever expected. Thank you, Sara.”
She faced me, and her shy lips teetered. “What are Godmothers for?”
Godmothers. I thought of Brinnon, Jesu, and Logan Junior.
Sara’s smile fell. “Ema? Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” I shook myself and stretched my lips into a grin as I folded my hands over hers. Images of Sara chasing after a small toddler on wobbly legs danced across my imagination. I didn’t say it. I didn’t dare put that hope in her heart when the decision wasn’t mine to make. But the truth was Sara would make a compassionate, generous, wonderful mother. I hoped she knew how grateful I would be if the occasion arose. “Yes. I’m fine.”
For the first time, I believed it. Everything will be fine.
I wouldn’t be here to raise them, but I had done everything in my power to surround them with family, with people who would love them fiercely. That was all I could do. It was enough. It was more than enough.
“What?”
My husband’s deep punitive voice cut through the drone and lanced through me with a force that instantly chilled my blood. My gaze went to him, plucking him from the crowd like we were the only two people in the room. He stood near the door facing Naamah. They were close. Almost touching as Naamah leaned forward and whispered something into Jesu’s ear. I heard it. We all heard it. Because vampyres could hear everything.
Only Naamah had said it in Finnish.
But I didn’t need the sudden halt in conversation or the looks of shock on the Councilmen’s faces to know it was bad. Jesu’s gaze found mine from across the room, and my heart broke. Somehow, I knew.
“Jalmari’s dead.”
Jesu
Sara took Helena’s place on the couch and offered Ema a cupcake despite the three she had sitting on the coffee table in front of her. Ema smiled in kind as she rejected the treat. I drew a breath, feeling my chest well up with pride.
She glows.
Around me, the men chatted and laughed and clapped each other’s backs. Occasionally, someone would elbow my ribs or give me a teasing shove, and I spent the better part of the party playing along, but then ... I don’t know ... she just caught my eye, and it was like the scenes in the movies when the lighting dimmed and everything else faded away. Ema was the only one in the room, and she was breathtaking.
Only this was better. This was real.
Our union wasn’t perfect. There was a lot I wasn’t prepared for. That bloody premonition, for one thing. But fuck all if I didn’t try my damnedest for her. She was mine, and I was hers. Body, blood, and soul.
Sara said something, and Ema’s lashes kissed the tops of her cheeks. The urge to draw her against me and slip away from the party to a more intimate corner of the castle coiled up inside. I pivoted, thinking I might do just that when a heavy hand landed on my shoulder and bid me pause.
I turned to find Naamah looking gravely at me. My brow furrowed, but before I could ask what was wrong, he inclined his head and nodded toward the door. I followed the man to the ingress so we could speak privately under the loud drone of our guests. At the door, Naamah faced me. He carried his cell phone in one hand, and I began to wonder.
