Midnight's Kiss

Nineteen

Julian came indoors after spending a couple of hours fishing in the cold, quiet predawn. It felt delicious to relax in front of a roaring fire. Lazily, he watched the leaping flames in the fireplace while he listened to Melly move around in the kitchen.

A metallic clang ruptured the peace in the cabin, and she swore so colorfully, he had to chuckle.

“What happened?” he called out.

“I dropped the flour canister, and now there’s flour everywhere.” She appeared by the sofa and grumpily nudged him. He shifted so she could lie down and curl against his side. “Yes, I’m running away from the problem. I put the trout in the fridge. I can always cook it later.”

“I’ll help you clean it up in a bit.” Stretching, he wrapped his arms around her, and she laid her head on his shoulder and snuggled into him.

A month had passed since he had killed Dominic, Darius, and Justine and walked away from the Nightkind council. Every day, he felt like he was going to wake up from a dream. Even though Melly felt solid and real when he held her, he couldn’t internalize the beauty of her smile, or the peace he saw all around him when he took the boat out onto the lake.

It was going to take some time, she kept telling him. One month could not wipe out years of isolation or stress. He was okay with that. The one thing he had learned over his long life was that worthwhile things could take time.

Stirring, she turned away from him, curling on her side while resting her head on his arm. He turned with her, spooning her from behind. Together they looked out the picture window at the serene water.

While they called the property a “cabin,” the term was a bit of a misnomer. In actuality, it was a three-bedroom house tucked into a tiny cove, with a spacious family room, a living room with a picture window that covered an entire wall facing the lake, and three fireplaces. Through clever landscaping and the position of the building, they couldn’t see any other houses.

The house sat at the edge of the waterline, while below, instead of a basement there was a compact boathouse that held a rowboat, a small, sleek motorboat, and a variety of water toys, including Jet Skis and paddle boards.

They also had their own pier, and over the last four weeks, they had replaced all the older, outdated furniture with new, quality pieces, like the chaise lounge by the living room window where Melly loved to read, and the spacious couch that offered plenty of room for cuddling.

“We did a good job when we picked this place before,” she said. “I’m glad all the trees have survived and have grown to be so big. It’s nice to go through the day without direct sunlight coming in any of the windows.”

“Even if we do lose a tree to an ice storm, the shutters are installed if I need them,” he replied. “For now, I’m glad I don’t need them. It feels good to look out.”

They fell silent for a time and watched the sunrise together.

He and well-being…

They were beginning to know each other, just as he and happiness were getting acquainted.

What do you know. Sometimes an old dog really could learn new tricks.

“Do you miss it?” she asked finally. She twisted around to look into his eyes. “All the intrigue, politics and power. I could imagine they would be addicting.”

Various members of the council had begun to email Melly, asking after her well-being and attempting to solicit her help in persuading Julian to return. She told him about each email with great satisfaction, although he wouldn’t let her read them to him.

“Not at all,” he replied. Honesty forced him to add, “At least, not yet.” He played with her hair. It was one of his favorite pastimes. “Do you miss the fast pace of the movie set?”

She smiled. “Absolutely not. At least not just yet.”

He stroked down her body gently, taking his time so that he touched every hollow and curve. The clothes she wore at the cabin were soft and pretty — silks and sometimes fleeces, all in jewel tones that complemented her golden skin, green eyes and tawny curls. She left her hair loose, just the way he liked it.

She was not only beautiful to look at, but also a pleasure to touch, and he could talk to her for hours.

They played conversational games with each other. He would ask her a question, then she would ask one in return. The intricate, winding discussions unlocked barriers in his mind that he hadn’t realized he’d had.

He fell into enchantment, exploring possibilities like walking a green maze drenched in afternoon sunlight, turning countless corners and discovering new treasures, always working to go further in and discover the heart of the place.

The center of it all. Melly.

She said quietly, “I’d like to confess something, if you don’t mind.”

He lifted his head off the couch pillow, immediately fascinated. “Of course.”

Taking his hand, she played with his fingers. “Over the past five years, I’ve toyed off and on with the idea of in vitro fertilization.” She peeked at him over her shoulder, her expression tentative and self-conscious. “Keep in mind — it doesn’t bother me in the slightest that Vampyres can’t father children. When I started thinking about this, I wasn’t in a relationship. I think I just want to be a mother. How would you feel about that?”

The strength of his response astonished him. All kinds of powerful reactions resonated through his body. His imagination ran wild. Melly, round with pregnancy, the baby kicking under his hands as he stroked her belly.

As he held still, stricken with the images that unfolded in his imagination, she searched his face anxiously.

He whispered, “I would love that. Really fucking love it.”

Her expression lit up. “We could keep talking about it then. We don’t have to do anything right away. Hell, I’m okay if we discuss it for a couple of years before we come to any decision. I don’t want to rush into anything before we’re ready.”

He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “I have no idea how to be a father.”

“I don’t believe it,” she told him. “All I have to do is look at how you are with Xavier.” As he glanced at her sidelong, she amended, “You might not know how to be a father to a baby or a young toddler, but Julian, none of those things come instantly to anybody, anyway. You have to learn them.”

Draping one wrist on his forehead, he frowned. “True.”

“As long as you’re not opposed,” she whispered, then paused. “If I need to, I can also give up the idea.”

At that, he lifted his head to scowl at her. “I won’t have you give up a single thing to be with me.”

Searching his gaze, she chuckled. “Well, I don’t want you to agree to have a baby just to make me happy. That wouldn’t work out very well for the baby, would it? I think the subject is a little like facing battle — we both need to be all in, or we need to be all out.”

“Good analogy,” he told her.

She added, “And there’s always the possibility that in vitro wouldn’t take. After all, it’s very difficult for the Light Fae to conceive and bear a child, just like it is for the rest of the Elder Races.”

They could always adopt. He thought it but didn’t say it. They could explore that conversation at a different time. For now, he simply listened to what she had to say, watching the play of expressions on her face.

She paused, then added, “If we do decide to go ahead with trying, we would have to be prepared for one other thing.”

He nuzzled her ear. “What’s that?”

She told him, “When the women in my family conceive, we tend to have twins.”

His mind leaped from Bailey to her mother Tatiana, and her aunt Isabeau, the Seelie Light Fae Queen in Ireland.

“Of course you do,” he said with a chuckle. “I hadn’t connected.” He cupped the back of her neck, rubbing her soft skin with the ball of his thumb. “Everything you’re saying is very sensible. We’ll take all the time we need in order to be sure. And I realize I have no idea what I’m really talking about. I’ve smiled at babies. I’ve held one or two. But I have no real concept of what it would be like to raise a small child. Even with all those qualifiers in mind, I’m drawn to this, Melly.”

Her expression softened. “I guess a lot will depend on the next year and what we end up deciding to do. If you truly want to go back to rule the Nightkind demesne, and I’m committed to going back to making movies, we might end up with too much of a commuter lifestyle.”

He shook his head. “Now you’re coming up with obstacles that don’t need to be there. If we want to have children, we should try to have children, and we’ll work out the rest. You could take a break from making movies for a couple of years, and I don’t need to go back into a situation that has danger lurking around every corner. I may not know much about children, but I do know one thing — they don’t stay young and small for long.”

“That’s true.” As he massaged her neck, her head drooped and her eyelids grew heavy.

Watching her beautiful face, he whispered, “Do you want to go clean up the kitchen now?”

Languidly, she shook her head. “No. But I am hungry.”

He started to smile.

She wiggled down his body until she came to the fastening of his jeans. As she unzipped him, he drawled, “Are you going to grab on and start sucking again?”

She snickered, her expression filling with mischief. “Yep. You got a problem with that, soldier?”

He was already so hard for her, his cock ached. “I can’t imagine ever having a problem with that,” he growled. “Just so we’re clear.”

He lifted his hips so she could tug off his jeans. Earlier, when he had slipped out to go fishing, he hadn’t bothered to pull on boxers, and as he kicked off his pants, his full erection bounced on his abdomen. Sitting, he pulled off his T-shirt and tossed it after the jeans. Then he propped one foot on the floor, parting his legs.

“Mmm,” she murmured as she looked up the length of his nude body. It was such a satisfied little sound, he had to grin. Spreading her flattened hands against his abdomen, she rubbed up and out in a wide, sweeping caress that encompassed his torso.

Then she entwined her fingers with his, urging his arms down by his side. Intrigued and aroused, he complied, watching her ravenously as she shackled his wrists with her hands.

The silent reference was unmistakable. His mind flashed back to pinning her on his bed while he sucked and licked between her legs. The memory caused him to growl underneath his breath even as he angled his hips so that she had better access to him.

It was the gentlest of sex games, getting inside his head and playing off his memories. She couldn’t hold him in place if he didn’t let her.

He let her.

Lowering her head, she began to lick, kiss and nibble at the skin of his flat abdomen. His muscles tightened as the sensation ran all over the surface of his body. She moved all around his cock, which lay distended and aching on his stomach, but she never focused on it. Instead she focused everywhere else.

Because of the angle and movement of her body, she still ended up touching him. Her cheek came into contact with the hypersensitive skin at the head of his erection. Then her jaw brushed against the shaft. A lock of her hair fell forward over her shoulder and tickled at his balls, which had drawn up tight in anticipation.

Every glancing caress made him hotter, harder. When she rubbed her nose affectionately in the dark hair that sprinkled his torso, he hissed, “Come on, get on with it, damn it.”

“Hold your horses,” she said against his skin.

Tension vibrated through his arms as he fought conflicting urges. He needed to break free of her hold, sink his hands into her hair and demand that she take him in her mouth.

But he also needed to subject himself to her desires. She gave him the gift of her compliance when his need for dominance took control. He would do no less for her.

She felt his struggle in his body’s response to her. Angling her head, the dimple in her cheek appeared as she gave him a naughty smile. “You’re still such a sexy beast, your majesty. Sexy and beast — two of my favorite things.”

The sight of her pulled him out of his preoccupation with his growing urgency.

She looked so happy. The sight fed all the dark places inside him. Tugging gently with one hand, he silently asked to be freed, and her fingers loosened.

He ran his fingers along her cheek and stroked her soft, smiling lips. “I adore you, you know,” he told her quietly. “Just so that we’re clear.”

Adore. What an exotic, extravagant word. He couldn’t remember ever saying it to anyone before.

Her smile deepened. She pressed a kiss against his erection, and it flexed in reaction. She whispered, “I adore you too.”

Lowering her head, she licked around the sensitive edge of the broad tip. His indrawn breath was clearly audible in the peaceful silence of the cabin. With a small, contented sound, much like a purr, she grasped him at the base and took him in her mouth.

She still held one of his wrists. Turning it in her grasp, he took her hand and rubbed her fingers. With his free hand, he stroked her hair.

Liquid fire cascaded along his nerve endings as she worked him. Opening her throat, she took him all the way in. She was such a generous lover. She used her lips and tongue with single-mindedness, creating a wet, tight suction and rhythm that made him crazy. Gasping, he gave up on control, fisted his hands in her hair and raised his head to stare at her as he pumped into her mouth.

The pleasure quickly became too intense. He pulled her head up.

She made a disappointed moue. “Hey, I was busy with that.”

But he had lost his sense of humor.

“Come here,” he muttered. As she changed course and readily shifted up to him, he drove his mouth onto hers, plunging as deep as he could with his tongue. The fire she had lit in his veins wouldn’t let him slow down.

With a heave, he flipped them so that she landed on the couch while he sprawled on top of her. She gasped at the drastic change, her hair flying in her face. While she shoved the curls out of the way, he stripped off her soft, loose pants.

Lifting her torso, she pulled off her fleecy top. Underneath, she wore one of her pretty, lacy bras. He managed to rein himself in so he didn’t rip the delicate material as he unhooked it and slipped it off. When she was completely nude, he hauled her up and around until she knelt on the floor, her upper body braced on the couch cushions.

“One of these days, I really am going to stop acting like such an animal,” he said between his teeth as he ran his hands greedily over her curves.

“Please don’t do it on my account.” She braced herself with one arm against the back of the couch and spread her knees wide, baring herself to him in invitation.

He might be an animal, but he wasn’t totally inconsiderate. Fingering her gently, he drew out moisture so that she was ready for him. With a breathless moan, she shifted restlessly underneath his touch.

He enjoyed her reaction so much, he eased two fingers inside. She was velvety soft, tight and wet. Her inner muscles clung to his fingers as he fucked her, making him growl under his breath.

“I could come just by watching you,” he muttered. He loved everything she did during sex. He loved everything about her.

“Come on,” she whispered, moving back against his hand as he worked her. “Bite me.”

Pausing, he tried to think. “How long has it been since the last time?”

“It’s been a while. Long enough.” Reaching behind her, she stroked and squeezed his cock.

He covered her fingers as she grasped him, otherwise he might explode. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. It was the day you baked that awful chocolate cake, remember?”

Her shoulders shook, and he realized she was laughing. He told her darkly, “We don’t talk about that cake.”

“You might not talk about it,” she retorted. “But it happens to be one of my very favorite subjects. When you started, you were so — annoyingly confident… Ohh.”

She gasped the last as he pulled away his hand, positioned himself at her entrance and pushed in. He flexed in and out until he was able to plant himself all the way inside. Then, obeying a primitive instinct, he lowered down until his chest covered her shapely back. In that position, he could only fuck her in shallow thrusts. Physically titillating, it satisfied some deep-seated emotion.

Lifting her head back so that it nestled in the crook of his shoulder, her breath came hard at each quick thrust.

Putting his lips to her ear, he whispered, “Let’s get another thing clear. We might decide to do in vitro. You might get pregnant. If you do, it will be my child. No one else’s. Mine. Just like you’re mine. Understood?”

Her face twisted. She nodded.

“Say it,” he said. He reached around her hip to finger where they joined, and found her pleasure point.

“I’m yours.”

He believed her. He had faith in her.

His fangs descended, and he bit.

The sharp, sweet pain of his bite pierced the tender flesh where her neck met her shoulder. They both stopped and waited.

Tremors ran through the muscles of her arms and legs. His weight pinned her against the cushions, his hard, muscled arms enfolding her. He felt so good inside her, both silken and hard at once. With his fingers pressing on her clit yet he was still not moving, she felt like she was going to fly apart.

The momentary sting from his bite disappeared. Pleasure stole into her, so much pleasure, and oh my God, something had to give.

She whimpered, “Julian, please.”

The gentle draw of his mouth intensified everything. The rasp of the couch cushion against her bare skin. The tickle of his chest hair. The pressure that built from inside. He could climb inside her head like nobody else she had ever known.

She needed to move so damn badly, yet he held still, and he held still, until she couldn’t hold back a muffled scream.

At that, a deep, quiet growl vibrated against her back, and he moved.

Just his fingers.

The sensation that rocketed through her was so extreme, she exploded. She bucked in his arms, sobbing. He clamped down on her and held her in place effortlessly, stroking and stroking, while she rode the waves of her climax. He took her to a place beyond words, until finally she had to pull his hand away.

Only then did he ease out of the bite and rise up. Grasping her by the hips, he began to pump into her in long, powerful strokes. She didn’t know what was more devastating — when he focused on giving her more pleasure than she had ever experienced in her life, or when he focused on taking his own.

Helpless tears leaked out of her eyes. All she knew was that making love to Julian stripped her of every barrier, until she felt totally open and exposed.

Then he went rigid. She could feel his tension pouring through the tight grip on her hips.

He whispered, “Melisande.”

There was so much yearning in his deep voice, she lifted her head. Twisting, she reached back to him with one hand. He grasped it. Their eyes met.

His thick, muscular body was in silhouette against the backdrop of the lake. The diffuse, early morning sunshine highlighted the flecks of white in his hair and the power in his piercing gaze.

And oh God, the look on his face.

To be loved like that… it was so much more than she could ever have hoped for.

His head and shoulders bowed, and his face clenched. She watched him orgasm while she felt the pulse of it inside, and she helped prolong his pleasure by rocking gently back against him.

“You’re mine too,” she whispered. “Don’t you ever forget it.”

“Yes,” he whispered. “I never will.”

Afterward, when he finally pulled his softening penis out, she sighed in resignation. “I always hate that part. I want you to stay inside.”

“I do too,” he said, stroking her buttocks and thighs.

He took his T-shirt and gently cleaned her, while she yawned and a heavy lassitude crept over her. “The fire’s so lovely,” she murmured as she crawled onto the couch. “I want to curl up here for a while. We can go to bed later, okay?”

“Okay.” Grabbing a soft chenille throw, he joined her. She laid her head on his chest, while he wrapped them in the blanket.

Held in his arms, a deep, peaceful sleep took her.

When she next opened her eyes, the light had changed and she was alone. Yawning, she stretched and looked around. In the fireplace, the flames had died down. What remained of the logs glowed a deep, gorgeous red.

Her clothes had been folded and set on the floor near her head, and a familiar rich, appetizing smell filled the house.

Smiling, she dressed and padded into the kitchen.

He had cleaned up the flour. She was sorry to have missed the sight of the Nightkind King wielding a broom and dustpan.

Barefoot and shirtless, and dressed in his jeans, he stood at the counter in front of a pan of chocolate cake. Evidently, she had slept hard for a couple of hours, for the cake was not only baked, it also appeared to be cool. He had opened a container of store-bought, cream cheese frosting.

His head bent, he focused on spreading the frosting evenly. He took such care with the task, gently working the knife so that he didn’t damage the delicate surface.

For some reason the sight brought fullness to her chest. Tears sprang to her eyes.

“What did you do?” she asked.

It was a stupid thing to say. She could see very well what he had done.

He looked up to give her a smile that creased his face.

“I baked you another cake,” he said. “I hope I did it right this time.”