“You gained my trust under false pretenses. You betrayed me, you stole from me, and you tricked me. You almost killed me, and you killed innocent humans. And your actions threatened those people who are dearest to me. You’re scum, vermin. I regret the day I set eyes on you. The world would be a better one without the likes of you. But I’m not a killer, and you’re not going to turn me into one. You’re not welcome here anymore. I’ll send word to every coven in the United States: if anybody shelters you, I’ll come after them and then after you. If you ever set foot in this country again, I will destroy you.”
Milo appeared shocked at Thomas’ verdict. “You won’t kill me?”
Thomas addressed the two guards. “Accompany him out of town, and make sure he leaves the country.”
The two guards looked at Samson for approval, and he nodded. A few seconds later they led Milo out of the house.
Samson placed his hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “It was a wise decision. I commend you for it.”
Thomas shook his head. “It was a coward’s decision.” He turned, and Samson saw the anguish in his face. “I couldn’t kill him because I still love him.”
Thomas left the house a minute later. Samson understood his need to grieve and come to terms with his decision on his own. Making him stay to celebrate Samson’s own happiness would have been cruel.
“He’ll be alright,” Amaury said once the door had shut behind Thomas. “Give him some time.”
“Carl, how about some drinks to celebrate Samson and Delilah’s impending union?” Ricky suggested.
“Champagne?” Carl asked.
“You know we don’t drink champagne, Carl.” Ricky laughed.
“Yes, but I don’t think it’s polite in mixed company to gulp down glasses of blood.” Carl threw a cautious look into Delilah’s direction.
“Carl, when you say mixed company, do you mean women and men, or do you mean humans and vampires?” Delilah asked and smiled.
“I meant humans and vampires.”
“Bring the blood, Carl, and a glass of champagne for me. I’m not a shrinking violet, and I don’t want you to treat me like one. I’m not going to faint at the sight of blood. Not anymore anyway.”
Carl straightened.
“You heard the mistress of the house.” Samson grinned. Delilah would fit perfectly into his life.
“Yes, sir.”
EIGHTEEN
When Delilah stepped out of the bathroom, her cheeks were rosy, and the glow of the many candles Samson had lit in the bedroom shimmered golden on her skin. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight. She had donned a robe, wearing nothing underneath, just like he’d asked her to.
Finally they were alone in his house, his friends having departed only minutes earlier. He stood waiting for her in front of the fireplace, equally only dressed in a robe, nude underneath it. His cock stirred violently at the sight of her and at the thought of what they were about to do. He’d never imagined how it would feel, but now that he did, he was certain that he’d never felt anything even close to the love he felt for her.
“Thank you for making it possible for me to talk to my father.”
“I’ll always do everything in my power to make you happy. Whatever it takes.” He stretched out his arms.
Delilah came to him, slowly but steadily, and he folded her into his embrace.
“Are you ready for the rest of your life to begin?”
“With you by my side, I’m ready for anything.” Her voice was like music to his ears.
He stroked the pale skin of her neck and felt her artery throb underneath his fingers. Her eyelids fluttered. “Will it hurt?”
“You’ll feel no pain, only pleasure. We’ll bond at the height of ecstasy, when our bodies are joined. You’ll drink my blood, and I’ll drink yours. We’ll be truly one, one body, one soul. You’ll sense everything I sense, and I’ll feel everything you feel. There’ll be no secrets between us. Do you want this?”
Samson had to give her one more opportunity to change her mind, because once they were blood-bonded, they were joined forever. He knew it was what he wanted. The certainty he felt was intoxicating and frightening at the same time. If she refused him now, it would break his heart.
Her green eyes sparkled when she looked at him. “Samson, I’ve been sensing strange things the last few days. I sensed things about you that I couldn’t possibly know. Like the fact that you painted that picture.” She tilted her head toward the painting over the mantle. “When I look at it, I see a little boy showing his mother a drawing.”
“Those are my memories, sweetness.”
“But we haven’t blood-bonded yet. How is it possible?”
He smiled. “Those who are truly meant for each other already have a bond between them. That’s why you can already sense me, and that’s why I knew about the meadow. We’re already connected.”
“Care to make it official?” Delilah whispered, her lips plump and red.
In slow motion his lips descended on hers until finally they locked together in a kiss of pure love. He’d never kissed any other woman like he kissed her. Capturing her lips with his, he poured his heart into her as he invaded the caverns of her mouth with his tongue. He wasn’t there to plunder, but to share. Her tongue met his, offering him what he knew he could never take: her trust. It was for her to give.
Their mouths fused in a passionate surrender to each other, neither one being the conqueror nor the conquered. Partners, equals in love. Both with equal strength and equal weakness for each other, both powerful and powerless at the same time.
Samson felt images invading his mind again, images of lavender, the meadow, the sun. She opened up to him to take him to a place of utter happiness, a place without a care in the world, a place where he was just man, not beast.
Never breaking their kiss, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to his bed, no, to their bed. He laid her onto the crisp sheets and covered her with his body. The only things between them were their thin robes, barely providing any barrier to their passion.
With eager hands Delilah pulled at his robe until it gave way and opened so she could feel his skin under her fingers. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she could love a man without reservations the way she loved Samson. Excitement pulsed in her veins as she felt his hands unwrap her from her robe.
Finally Samson’s naked skin connected with hers. She virtually felt the sizzle the connection created, the thrills it sent through her body, the anticipation is created in her brain. His erection pressed against her thigh, not asking for entry yet, but reminding her of his purpose. To take her, to possess her, to share himself with her.
His hands roamed her body liberally, without rush, but with determination. She returned his ministrations with the same fervor he showed. No square inch of his body would escape her touch. Not her fingers, nor her mouth or tongue.
Where hours earlier he’d been punctured by gaping wounds, new skin had formed as flawless as the rest of his body. She pressed against him, and he understood and rolled onto his back taking her on top.
Delilah pulled herself up to look at him. He was beautiful, if a man could be called beautiful. His shoulders were broad and muscular, his chest devoid of hair and ripped with muscles. She trailed her fingers along his torso. From beneath her lashes she noticed him watching her as she explored him. She discovered deep desire in them, yet he didn’t move, but allowed her to take the time she needed to learn him.
For the first time she would make love to him with the full knowledge of what he was. A vampire.
Delilah still couldn’t understand why an amazing man like Samson could fall in love with her, but she didn’t questions it anymore. What she saw in his eyes told her that his love was real. Samson was hers. Her man. Her vampire. Her mate.