Page 107 of Vampire's Choice
Ruth placed a gentle kiss on Clara’s mouth. Totally platonic, so she wouldn’t ruffle Marcellus’s feathers. “Do not die. I will be really mad if you do.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The surge of anger she’d felt toward Merc earlier couldn’t hold. When she reached the portal exit and saw him there, he sensed where her mind was. Rather than saying anything, he offered her a hand. When she took it, he pulled her to him and put his arms around her. And his wings.
She hadn’t looked for tenderness from him, or compassion. He gave her both, plus a needed silence. When she finally drew back, she wiped at her face self-consciously. “Let’s go.”
She was braced for the usual alarming, organ-jarring portal experience, punctuated by another blood vomiting episode. She still didn’t travel well on the longer jumps.
However, this time the transition was like stepping out of one room and into another. She looked at an open field around her. It was an unfamiliar place, but obviously far closer to the in-between space they’d just left.
“I can get us there without the longer portal trip,” Merc told her. “If you will trust me to do so.”
Mutely, she put her arms around his neck, and he hefted her up so she could wrap her legs over his hips. “It will be fast, but less jarring. Have you ever wanted to travel at the speed of a rocket ship?”
She tipped her head back up to look into his face. His close, intent face. Before she thought about what she was doing, she’d brushed her lips against his mouth. “Yes,” she said simply.
He stared down at her.
“Oh. I—sorry. I didn’t think. I know you don’t kiss…women.”
He didn’t say anything. Instead, after a long moment, he cupped her head and brought her back to his mouth. His eyes stayed open, staring into hers.
Her heart pounded, her mind scrambled by the knowledge something momentous was about to happen. Or maybe it would just be a kiss. Nothing special. Because he had avoided the intimacy, any potency would simply be from the anticipation, the previous denial.
Yeah, right.
Slowly, her eyes dropped to half mast, then fully, a sound caught in her throat as he molded his mouth over hers, learning her shape. When he parted her lips, his arms tightened around her. His tongue came inside to explore the tender insides of her mouth, follow the length of her fangs, tease the tips. She shuddered, that sound becoming a moan.
She let him take the lead on the exploration, curbing her desire to do the same. For once, she surrendered without any resistance, telling him how much she fucking loved to be kissed by him.
Then she was in a tornado, spinning, shooting like a star—or a rocket. She was in his arms, held securely, her head tucked against his chest, the wind from his wings like ocean currents. Her mind couldn’t hold onto anything but that kiss and the feel of his arms around her.
Just as she thought her internal organs were about to be squeezed to a pulp, and she’d need vampire healing ability to reinflate or reassemble them, he slowed down.
She didn’t have the ability to turn her head to look below until they were gliding like a bird would, descending in lazy circles. “Oh,” she said softly.
She was much higher than the altitude at which she flew the supply plane. Being in the thinner night air was a cool contrast to the heat of his arms around her.
But as they at last dropped below the clouds, she saw the island. Then the tiny silhouettes of lions prowling the savanna. A cougar in the mountain habitat, perched on a rock. From the angle of her head, Ruth imagined her glittering eyes were tracking their descent with curious interest. As they circled the island’s perimeter, she saw the rehab area, the figures of the staff. With it being nighttime, her father was probably with them. Which reminded her she needed to announce their arrival.
Sgidoda, I’m arriving by air. With a guest. He’s an angel. And an incubus.
The wordless mental acknowledgement included a rewarding deep pleasure that she was home. Two shots of it, her father’s welcome reinforced by her mother’s as he shared Ruth’s arrival.
Her father’s reaction to her announcement was in the mix as well. Though he didn’t voice it, the emotion was easy enough to pick up, and made her smile.
An angel incubus. What the fuck?
By the time she directed Merc to touch down on a hill near the house, and they walked over that crest and down into the valley where her childhood home nested, her parents were on the porch.
She’d felt self-conscious about landing before them, wrapped around Merc. It didn’t matter that they’d seen her in plenty of sexual situations with human servants. It wasn’t about sex, but she wasn’t going to dissect that right now.
Mal was sitting in his preferred chair, made of woven branches. Chumani had crafted plenty of them for the staff quarters and their home. Elisa was on the steps.
Ruth wasn’t surprised that Mal had returned to the house to greet them personally. Hey, Da. Bringing a sex demon to the island. Is that cool?
She guessed every parent had to deal with who—and what—their offspring might bring home.