Darkness Everlasting
Darkness Everlasting (Guardians of Eternity #3)(85)
Author: Alexandra Ivy
Besides, it wasn’t the sort of romantic ceremony most young girls dreamed of.
But with a readiness that caught him off guard, she pressed his head down to her throat and softly urged him to take what she offered.
Styx gave a soft moan as he slid his fangs into her waiting flesh.
Swift pleasure flared through his body. He was prepared for the sensations. The intimate sharing of blood was always erotic. But he hadn’t expected the surge of searing bliss that rolled through him like a thundering wave.
"Darcy."
With a low groan he slid his hand down her body, seeking the heat between her legs. To his relief he found her already wet for him. He needed to be inside her as he took her blood. To complete the binding in the most intimate way possible.
As if sensing his need, Darcy wrapped her legs around his hips and arched in silent invitation. Styx gave a soft hiss as he positioned himself and slid into her with a deep thrust.
A shudder shook his body as her tightness wrapped about him. This was paradise, he realized as his mind clouded with pleasure and his hips moved with a fierce insistence. This was the perfection of a man and woman truly mated.
Struggling against his building climax, Styx slipped his hand between them to stroke the center of her heat. He felt her shiver in pleasure, her nails biting deep into his skin.
He jerked in dark delight as her blood flowed through him. He could sense her heart, her pleasure, her boundless love, her utter commitment to him.
As if they had been seamlessly blended into one being.
And nothing had ever been so wonderful.
Styx heard Darcy’s soft gasp and then the tiny ripples of her pleasure clenched around him. His brief moment of control was lost as he surged forward and poured himself into her.
"My mate," he breathed, his head lowering to press his face into the curve of her neck. "My eternal angel. My salvation."
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was a series of low curses that woke Darcy from her deep slumber. With a lazy stretch, she forced her heavy-lids open and discovered herself alone in the bed. Not surprising, she ruefully acknowledged. The past two weeks had taught her that Styx was ruthless in his demands on himself, sleeping only a few hours before returning to his endless duties of Anasso and of course, devoting a great deal of the night to pampering his mate.
Suddenly, she was no longer that lonely outcast struggling to survive without family or friends.
Turning on her side, she regarded the crimson markings on her arm with a dreamy smile. In less than a month, she had collected a family of werewolves, as well as friends who included gargoyles, demons, and goddesses. And a heart-stopping, bone-melting, to-die-for vampire for a mate.
All in all, not a bad few weeks.
With a chuckle, she pushed back the covers and reached for the heavy robe that was tossed at the foot of the bed. It was several sizes too large, but at least the thick brocade was a welcome warmth. Styx hadn’t lied when he’d warned that the caves would be cold and damp.
Once again the sound of low voices floated through the air, and with a sense of curiosity, Darcy headed toward the opening.
She had never expected to be alone with Styx in the remote caves. He was the Anasso and as such must be protected by his Ravens at all times. But the five vampires who formed Styx’s Secret Service were usually so silent that it was impossible to know when they were even around.
Surely something must have happened for them to be making actual noise?
Belatedly wishing she had taken time to pull on a pair of socks, Darcy entered the large room that was connected to the bedroom. Her gaze first went to the large fire burning happily in the fireplace before slowly searching the chamber to discover Styx and two of his Ravens in the center of the room.
Her eyes widened as she took in the large pine tree that was leaning precariously from the tub of sand it had been stuck in, defying all attempts by the vampires to stand straight.
Instantly sensing her entrance, the three vampires turned as one, the two Ravens giving a deep bow before silently sliding from the room.
Darcy barely noticed their retreat as she walked toward the tree with a faint frown.
"Styx … what is going on?" she demanded.
Attired in nothing more than a pair of leather pants and his hair hanging loose down his back, the vampire looked just about as delectable as a man could look.
And when he smiled … sheesh. Darcy struggled not to drool.
"Attempting a surprise, pet," he said, with a rueful grin. "Without much success, I must admit."
She gave a slow shake of her head, her heart doing an odd flop as she abruptly realized what she was seeing.
"Is that a Christmas tree?"
"Yes."
Her gaze dropped to the gaudily wrapped boxes set on the floor. "And … presents?"
"I believe that is the tradition, is it not?"
Her breath caught as he bent to pluck one of the boxes from the floor and moved to stand directly before her. It had been years since she had celebrated Christmas. And even in her youth it had never been a day that truly captured the warmth and peace she had so desperately needed. Not when she was so obviously unwanted.
In this moment, however, her fantasies were complete.
"Oh, Styx," she breathed as she took the box from his hand.
His expression was unbelievably tender as he touched her cheek. "It’s your first Christmas with your new family. I wanted it to be memorable."
She moved close enough to press her face to his bare chest, reveling in the feel of his cool skin beneath her own.
"It is perfect."
"Open your present, my love," he urged.
Pulling back, she hid her smile at his hint of impatience. How anyone thought this vampire aloof and indifferent was beyond her. She had never known anyone who cared more for others.
With swift motions she tore the paper from the small velvet box, and with an eagerness that seemed to please Styx, she flipped open the lid to reveal the large, outrageously flawless ruby ring within.
Stunned, she lifted her head to meet his searching gaze. "Good . . . heavens."
Taking the box from her nervous fingers, Styx plucked the ring from its resting place and gently pushed it onto her finger.
"I believe it is a human tradition to exchange rings between mates?" he said huskily.
She gave a shaky laugh. "Yes, but this is much more than a wedding ring."
His hand closed over her fingers. "It doesn’t please you?"
"It’s beautiful, but it’s too much. You shouldn’t have—"
"I wanted to," he interrupted firmly, his finger slipping beneath her chin as he gazed into her wide eyes. "I want you to be happy, Darcy."