With each thrust he slid fully in, held for a moment, then drew back and did it again.
“Antoine… over… and over,” she whispered.
“Yes.” The word came on a breath of his exertion.
She felt the moment he began to lose that famous control of his, the shift in his rhythm, the slight tremble in his arms, and she smiled and tilted her head forward, offering her neck.
His moan was her reward, and his lips closed against her skin, his bite following swiftly, as though he were hurrying. Once more the wash of pleasure pushed her into her own climax, and she tensed beneath and around him. He pumped once, twice more, short strokes marked with quick draws of her blood, then groaned as she felt him release inside her. Ecstasy, pulsing within and through her, as he took a last mouthful and then collapsed onto her, licking softly at her neck.
His heart thudded hard against her back, and hers answered him, pounding in her ears and through her body, so loud he couldn’t have missed it. His hands traced up her arms to find hers, fingers entwining.
“Bond or no bond,” he murmured, “you have captured me.”
“That was my line.”
Forty-One
Antoine awoke.
His blinds were fully down, blocking out the sun, but the clock confirmed it was mid-afternoon, in keeping with his usual waking hours since bonding Cally.
She wasn’t beside him, but he hadn’t expected her to be. He knew where she would be: in her room, likely with Eve, poring over the Order’s spell books, committing herself with single-minded determination in search of anything that might help. As she had since he’d returned from Roberto’s, three days before.
But after three centuries on this world with nothing to suggest witch magic had survived, Antoine didn’t put much faith in that hope.
He linked his mind to Noah. “Any news from Gabe?”
“Yes. He’s expecting you this evening. Some concern over Anastasia attending, but he’s on board.”
This wasn’t much of a plan either, but it was the best he had.
Antoine rose and showered, standing under the water only as long as was necessary to get clean. It was one more reason to hate Roberto; Antoine used to like taking showers. It wasn’t as though the water scared him, more that it served as a reminder of an experience he’d rather forget.
If vampires dreamed, I’d have constant nightmares.
Antoine dressed in black tie, as befitting the venue for his meeting with Gabe, then went to find Cally. She was cross-legged on her bed, barefoot but dressed in chinos and an indigo blouse, three books spread open around her. Eve curled up in her usual chair, legs tucked beneath her.
He wanted to ask how the search went, but he knew the answer would risk demoralizing them. “I’m off to see Gabe,” he said instead.
“Sharp tux. You look good enough to eat.” Cally jumped up to come and give him a kiss. “I’ll wait for you.”
“I’ll be back late. You’ll be asleep by then.”
She hooked her arms around his neck. “A woman has to get used to odd hours when her bonded is a vampire. Especially one that looks as delectable as you.”
“I am a fortunate vampire indeed.” He returned her kiss at length.
Eve cleared her throat noisily.
“Ignore her.” Cally pressed her body close. “She’s just jealous.”
“The whole house is jealous with how loud you are when you come,” Eve muttered.
Antoine grinned as Cally flushed red. “Stay inside, please. Noah will remain close.”
“Poor Noah. I feel bad for him. Give Gabe my best?”
“Of course.” He nodded to the books. “Bonne chance, mon amour.”
