Bound by Night (Page 25)

He nodded.

“Well, what if I liked it?” she asked boldly. “Can we do it again? Unless you’d rather not,” she added quickly.

Drake laughed softly as he rose over her, his dark eyes alight with amusement. “My dear wife, I should be more than happy to indulge your every wish.”

Chapter 13

In the morning, Elena woke with a song in her heart, a smile on her face, and aches in places that had never ached before, but it was a wonderful kind of pain. A wave of tenderness swept through her when she saw Drake sleeping beside her. He was an amazing lover. She hated to think what she would have missed if she had refused to consummate their marriage. How dreadful it would have been, to go through life never knowing how amazing making love could be. Remembering how disappointed some of her girlfriends had been after having made love to their boyfriends, Elena could only surmise that not every man was as skilled at the art of lovemaking as her husband.

Was it because he was a vampire? She frowned. And then she laughed. If being a vampire enhanced a man’s lovemaking, every woman in the world would be clamoring for her man to join the ranks of the Undead!

Rolling onto her side, Elena studied her husband’s face. His brows were nicely shaped, his lashes thick and rather long, his cheekbones high and pronounced, his lips . . . ah, those lips. A rush of warmth engulfed her when she remembered the intimate places his mouth had been last night.

A giggle rose in her throat. Would he make love to her like that again tonight? How could she wait until then? If she touched his shoulder, would he awaken and take her in his arms?

Why had it been necessary for them to make love? Not that she was sorry, but it would have been easy enough for her to lie to his sire and claim they had consummated their marriage. Who would know otherwise?

A breath whispered past Drake’s lips and then he smiled. “Rodin would know,” he murmured.

“I thought you were asleep!” Elena stared at him. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

“You were thinking so hard, it was impossible not to hear you.”

Even though his eyes were still closed, she made a face at him. Was there anything he couldn’t do? He came and went like the wind, he could read her mind. And he was the most amazingly attractive and virile man she had ever met.

“Thank you, wife.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed in exasperation. “Am I to have no secrets from you at all?”

A wry smile twisted his lips. “Probably not.”

She glared at him. There had to be a way to keep him from reading her mind. She tapped her fingertips on the mattress. There had to be a way. . . . Grinning, she began to mentally recite the recipe for chocolate chip cookies. And then, still thinking about flour and sugar and vanilla, she leaned over and kissed him full on the lips.

He opened his eyes with a start, then burst out laughing. “Very clever, wife.”

“Thank you,” she said smugly, and then shrieked when he rolled her onto her back and straddled her thighs.

“Do you know what I am thinking?” he asked, a mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes.

“I can see what you’re thinking,” she retorted with a quick, downward glance. “But it’s daytime,” she added primly.

“What has that to do with anything?” he asked.

“Well . . . the sun is up . . . and . . . and it’s daylight. . . .” she stammered. “Shouldn’t we wait until dark?”

“Daytime, nighttime, any time you desire, my darling wife.”

It had never occurred to her that people engaged in such intimate relations in the broad light of day. Besides . . . “How can you be awake when the sun is up?”

“How can I think of sleep with you lying there beneath me?”

“So you can be awake during the day?”

“For short periods of time, as long as I stay out of the sun.”

She stored that away for future reference.

Leaning down, he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, the corners of her mouth. “Should I stop?”

Feeling delightfully wicked, Elena clasped her hands behind his neck and drew him closer. “Read my mind,” she murmured, and pressed her lips to his.

It was late afternoon before Elena slipped on her robe and left the room. Drake was sleeping soundly. Had he been an ordinary man, she would have thought him weary after a morning of lovemaking, but he was a vampire, with the stamina of twenty men. It wasn’t exhaustion, but the sleep of his kind, that held him in its grasp.

In the kitchen, she heated water, then filled a small wooden tub. After removing her robe, she stepped into the water and scrubbed herself clean. She should be upset, she thought, frightened that the man she had married was a vampire. Instead, she felt like singing. What was wrong with her? Had a night and a morning of exquisite sex deprived her of her sanity? She felt herself smiling again as she thought of the hours she had spent in Drake’s arms, the sweet love words he had whispered in her ear.

Drying off, she slipped into her robe again, then looked around for something to eat. She settled for a bowl of fruit and a cup of tea.

Sitting at the table, waiting for the tea to cool, she found herself thinking of Drake and wondering how soon they could make love again.

Drake woke with the setting of the sun, unable to dispel a sense of doom as he prepared to return to the Fortress. He had avoided thinking about returning home for centuries. He had always been an outcast, never quite fitting in with the others of his kind. And now there was Elena. He never should have married her, never entangled her in his life, but it was too late now. She was a part of him. The best part.

After dressing, Drake left the castle to feed. Knowing he would need all his strength to face his sire, he fed often and deeply. It would have been quicker, easier, to simply drain one human, but to do so meant the mortal’s death. Only thoughts of Elena kept him from taking a life now.

When he returned to the castle, he found his bride in the main room, a vision in a knee-length dress of lavender silk that showed off her feminine curves to perfection. The neckline was square, the sleeves short and puffy. Her smile of welcome warmed his heart.

“Good evening, wife,” he murmured, taking her into his arms. “How lovely you look.”

“Thank you.” She gazed up at him, a question in her eyes. “You’re late this evening.”

Nodding, he stroked her cheek, thinking it was as soft and silky as the dress she wore.

She tilted her head to the side. “Did you go out?”