I finally tracked Asher down. I'd been calling around to all the places he usually frequented for the past hour. No one had seen him tonight. That meant that in all likelihood, he'd never left his apartments this evening. I knew I could've located him much faster, if I'd opened the marks. But I was extremely angry with him right at the moment, and I didn't want to give him any advantages in the upcoming confrontation. I kept my shields firmly in place. (I pictured them like armor of the finest steel ever forged.)
I arrived at the entrance to Asher's lair. On the surface, the place looked like an abandoned migrant camp or road prison. It was in the hills and remnants of citrus groves about an hour's drive west of Orlando. You would think that the buildings hadn't been used in years. I walked into one of the more decrepit looking ones. I went into the grimy bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet, and flipped the toggle switch hidden there. The wall next to the toilet slid aside to reveal a hidden hallway. A second toggle switch inside reset the false wall. Around a corner and down some stairs and I was inside the labyrinthine complex built under the surrounding hills. There were several more safeguards to pass through to get to Asher's private quarters. He would know I was coming. That was okay, too. He would also pick up on my mood.
"Asher!" I hollered once I was in his sitting room. I felt him trying to reach me through the marks and pulled my shields tighter around myself, shutting him out. I knew he was capable of blasting my shields away, but I was betting that he'd understand the message that I was mad at him. "Asher!" I repeated, louder. I heard a door open and the sound of running water. "One moment, cherie," he called from the bathroom. The water quit running. Soft cloth movement sounds followed. I resisted the urge to pace impatiently. Finally, he appeared in the bedroom doorway. He was wearing a brown and gold silk robe, tied loosely at the waist, and he was toweling his hair dry.
My body threatened to betray me, reacting to the sight of him. I held onto my anger out of sheer stubbornness. Asher smiled and said, "Good evening, ma rose d'acier. To what do I owe this pleasure?" His voice was as soft and sexy as his robe looked. Again, I felt him probing at my mind, testing my resistance. His smile grew sultry. He stalked past me, tossing the damp towel in a chair. His golden hair, still heavy with water, looked almost honey brown and hung in an unruly mass down his back. His face was almost flushed, telling me that he'd already fed tonight. He stopped by an end table and picked up a gold cigarette case. He flipped it open and removed a Sobranie (I recognized the black cigarette paper).
After tamping the cigarette and lighting it with a rock crystal table lighter, Asher lounged in one of the antique arm chairs. His right arm draped limply over the back of the chair, and his right leg rested across the arm of the chair. His robe gaped wide, showing a *lot* of his inner thigh. If he had *any* underwear on beneath the robe, they had to be bikini briefs or a thong (ouch). "We need to have a talk," I stated. Good, I was still able to keep my mind on business. He removed the cigarette from his mouth with that annoying underhand pinch that Europeans seem so fond of. He blew a thin line of smoke into the air, watching it languidly.
"How did you enjoy your trip?" he asked casually. Oh good, he was making it a little easier to stay mad at him. "No warning of what to expect. No explanation of what was going on. How *dare* you!" I seethed. Asher actually smiled at me. "How dare I what?" he asked with an amused tone. "Don't you *ever* use me like that again!" I growled. "You are mine," he stated, "to use any way I see fit." He stood in one fluid motion and stubbed out the cigarette in a convenient ashtray.
"You bastard!" I spat at him. "I am *not* just some *thing* for you to use!" In a flash he was right in front of me. With one hand, he pinned me to him. With the other hand, he cupped my chin, lifting my face. His smile was so condescending. My body began to tremble, not with desire but with barely contained rage. I think he mistook it for the first emotion. "Ma rose d'acier, you are *mine*...mind, body, and soul," he voice came like warm velvet brushing against bare skin. He moved to kiss me. My rage burst over us like a tidal wave. "DON'T TOUCH ME!!" I screamed, directing all that energy at him.
Asher was blown back halfway across the room. The blast of power had opened a slash on his cheek. He sat there, bleeding, with a look of complete surprise on his otherwise perfect face. *Perfect* face? I blinked. My mind must've been playing tricks on me. I thought I'd caught a glimpse of Asher's face *whole* save for the wound I'd just given him. but that was impossible. The scars were there, just like always. Must've been the shock of what I'd just done to him.
"Asher?" My voice came out as barely a whisper, choked by fear and shock. My anger was completely gone. My instinct was to go to him and see if he was all right. Fear held me in place. If what I'd done had pissed him off, I needed to put as much distance between us as possible. But I couldn't bring myself to run away, either. I held a hand out towards him tentatively, an offer to help if he wanted it. He sat there with an unreadable expression on his face. Staring at me as though he'd only just seen me for the first time. I felt my face flush with heat.
My eyes were brimming with tears. "Asher, please," my voice was tremulous. Yes, I'd been angry with him, but I'd never meant to hurt him. My heart was thudding fit to burst, and my gut was in an icy knot. "I held your mind, because I did not want you to fight the treaty process. Otherwise, it might have taken too long to complete," he told me. "Did it ever occur to you to just *ask*? Or at lest warn me? I thought I was being attacked and was unable to defend myself. Because *you* were holding me," I accused him. The anger didn't return...just a painful sense of betrayal. "I was terrified, Asher. I thought I could *trust* you. The way that was handled was so very close to being rape, that I don't want to think about it."
"Forgive me, Tamara. I never considered that you would view it as such," he sounded genuinely remorseful. "All I ask is that you let me know about stuff like that *before* the fact," I told him. "Unless I've got a good reason, I would never refuse you, mon cher." His face relaxed into a soft smile, and he nodded. He extended one pale hand towards me. I stepped to him, grasped his hand and prepared to help him up. He gave a deft tug and tumbled me into his lap; his arms wrapped around me.
"Do you have a good reason to refuse me your *company* tonight?" he smiled at me. When he said the word "company" his voice flowed over me like a lover's touch. I had only been to his bed once since taking the fourth mark. I'd been too wrapped up with all the legalities and preparations for Derik's release. Asher had sent me some very *explicit* dreams during that time, however. I realized right then, though, that I wanted more than just dreams. We'd just forgiven each other for wounds we'd inflicted. I could think of no better way to show that.
I smiled back up at him and caressed the scarred side of his face, eliciting a growling moan from him. "Nope, I don't," I said. He turned his face into my hand and kissed my palm, making little circles with his tongue. I shuddered and gave a moan of my own. Suddenly, I was rolled to the floor, my hands pinned level with my shoulders. Asher loomed over me, his weight trapping my legs. His hair, still somewhat damp, hung down and brushed my face, tickling. I growled and snapped at it playfully. Actually caught a strand in my mouth and gave a little tug before releasing it.
Asher leered down at me and gave that dirty little chuckle of his. The one that screamed "SEX" and was so very...French. I giggled as he raised goosebumps on my flesh with that laugh. I'd a feeling I was in for a hell of a night. He descended on me with a fierce kiss. I returned it with equal fervor. After what seemed forever, he pulled back from the kiss. I was left gasping for breath. I saw that his robe had fallen open...and it *was* all he had on. The sight of him at the ready caused an involuntary spasm in my hips. Once again he lowered his face to me. He drew a line of kisses from my mouth, down my throat, to the neck of my T-shirt. I felt him give a little tug on the cloth with his teeth and heard a tearing, popping sound. He released my wrists and ripped the shirt open from the small tear he'd made.
His tongue drew a hot, wet line from between my breasts at the top of my bra up to my collar bone and across to my shoulder. I gasped as he drew blood down my collar bone on the return pass. He alternately licked and sucked gently at the shallow wound until it stopped bleeding. I reached up and undid the front clasps on my bra while he was at the wound. I pulled it open and moved my hands to his shoulders. He worked his way down one breast to the nipple, rolling it with his tongue. I gave a shuddering sigh as he sucked hard enough to hurt but never breaking skin. There was an answering ache between my legs that I though would drive me mad.
His drying hair brushing against me was a cool counterpoint to the heat of his mouth working on my body. Just when I thought I couldn't take any more, he sat back, no longer pinning my legs. He grasped my foot and began removing my shoe. I sat up and shrugged out of the remains of my shirt then my bra. I had the button and zipper undone on my jeans and had started pushing them down by the time Asher got to my other shoe. Once it was off, he stopped my hands with his. He held my like that for a few minutes, without continuing, and I gave a small growling whine. I wanted him right *then*. I dropped my shields completely, opening to him, and let him see how badly I wanted him.
"Don't be so impatient, cherie," he said with a low laugh. "We should savor every moment." "I'm not a bottle of wine, Asher," I smiled. "Au contrare, cherie," he purred. He leaned in and flicked his tongue across my lips and proceeded to kiss his way down my throat and torso, lingering briefly over each breast. He slowly slid my jeans and panties off my legs as he was kissing me. I was propped on my elbows watching him. He sat back again and used his knees to separate my legs. Feather-light, he trailed his fingertips down my body where his lips had been moments before. He kneaded down my thighs, gently lifting my legs to bend at the knees in the process, leaving me fully exposed. Starting at my knee, he licked a line up the inside of my leg towards my center. My pulse and breathing sped up in anticipation.
Just before he reached more sensitive areas, he raised his face just a fraction to look up at me. His eyes were smoldering with an icy heat. "Your body, your blood, your essence, your power are more potent and heady than the finest Burgundy, ma rose d'acier," he said in a throaty whisper. "And I want to drink deeply of you." I cried out as he plunged his tongue deep into me. His fangs pressed against the outside of me just shy of piercing flesh. He began to work his tongue around inside me. His hands gripped my butt, lifting me to him like a cup.
I flung my arms out to the sides, hands clutching in the carpet to brace myself against this onslaught. My head was thrown back and tossed from side to side. I gritted my teeth, biting back on the scream trying to tear from my throat. The sensations Asher was causing threatened to overwhelm me. I couldn't hold it in any more. A strangled cry escaped me. My back arched as Asher brought me just to the brink but not over. He pulled back, leaving my body begging for release. I lay there trembling. Asher moved to lay beside me. he propped up on one elbow and just gazed at me. His eyes traveled slowly over my form, a possessive look of pride crossing his face.
He brushed a strand of hair from my face, leaned down and kissed me gently. He must've wiped his mouth at some point. His lips were soft and dry, and I only caught a faint trace of my scent on him. He trailed a finger down my arm, raising goosebumps in its wake. "That was just the first sip, amante de moi. I'm not through with you yet, tonight," he informed me. In less time than it takes to blink, Asher was standing with me in his arms. He started moving towards the bedroom. Something didn't feel right, though. I knew he was graceful, but even *he* had to MOVE to walk. I looked down and saw that we were hovering a few inches above the floor. His robe billowed out behind him like a cloak as we drifted into the bedroom.
He tossed me onto the bed rather unceremoniously and stripped off the robe. Then he knelt on the edge of the bed in all his naked glory and began to crawl towards me...stalking like the beautiful but deadly predator that he was. "Run," he commanded in a low whisper. When I didn't respond right away, he whispered it in my mind. 'Run.' The door was behind me, away from him. I sprinted for it. Just as I was about to reach the doorway, Asher was *there*, blocking me. Suddenly, my heart was racing. I hadn't seen him move. With all four marks, he shouldn't have been able to cloud my mind so easily. I turned for the bathroom. The bed was in the way. I scrambled over it, expecting him to grab my ankle at any moment. Instead, he just *appeared* in front of me as I was getting off the bed. I almost ran into him. I began backpedaling on the bed, trying to get out of reach.
Once I felt I was far enough back from him, I turned to see where I was crawling. There he lay on the bed in the direction I had been heading. He had one leg propped up, a hand behind his head, and the other hand extended to me in invitation. I crouched where I was and shook my head. I couldn't speak past the fear constricting my throat. I felt like prey. He smiled seductively. "Come to me, ma rose d'acier." His voice wrapped around me, drawing me to him like velvet ropes. I crawled towards him slowly and cautiously. He slid his other hand from behind his head, opening his arms to me...beckoning. I saw that he was fully erect, and I blushed. His chuckle was low and rolling, penetrating me in ways his body never could. I whimpered as I closed the last remaining distance between us.
He laid his hands tenderly on my shoulders and slid them ever so lightly down my back to grip my hips. Gently, he guided me onto him. I threw my head back, a soft moan escaping my lips as I felt him slide into me. Asher set our pace, keeping his hands on my hips, forcing me to go exquisitely slow. Ever so gradually, he allowed me to speed up. We reached the point that to continue much longer would make it painful. And still I hadn't climaxed once. I was used to *multiples*. What was the problem with me *this* night?
Asher rolled us over and took the top position, working himself inside of me. His eyes had frosted over. That's when I realized that *he* was using the marks to keep me from coming. Denying me what my body was craving. 'Only *I* can offer you release tonight, cherie,' he whispered in my mind. He showered kisses on my face and breasts, then lingered at my throat. His tongue tickled along the length of it, finding and caressing my pulse. "Please, Asher, please!" I pled. I screamed as his fangs sank home and the orgasm finally washed over me. He drank deeply, and it was all things at once. Pain and pleasure; draining and energizing; terror and peace.
I was beginning to feel blissfully numb before he drew back from me. When I saw him, I knew he'd drawn power from me as well as blood. His skin, where it was smooth, glowed like white marble in moonlight. The scars were a shadowy counterpoint. His eyes were a solid, crystal blue topaz. His hair was spun gold. I raised a hand to trace the scars. "My beautiful angel of death," I whispered, my voice barely audible. My vision was starting to gray. "Sleep now, ma rose d'acier," Asher told me as he folded me to him in his arms. The last thing I remembered was a tender kiss.