"One Slip" A restless eye across a weary room A glazed look and I was on the road to ruin The music played and played as we whirled without end No hint, no word her honour to defend I will, I will she sighed to my request And then she tossed her mane and my resolve was put to the test Then drowned in desire, our souls on fire I led the way to the funeral pyre And without a thought of the consequence I gave in to my decadence One slip and down the hole we fall It seems to take no time at all A momentary lapse of reason That binds a life for life A small regret you won't forget There'll be no sleep in here tonight Was it love or was it the idea of being in love? Or was it the hand of fate that seemed to fit just like a glove? The moment slipped by and soon the seeds were sown The year grew late and neither one wanted to remain alone One slip and down the hole we fall It seems to take no time at all A momentary lapse of reason That binds a life to a life The one regret you will never forget There'll be no sleep in here tonight One slip...one slip... Asher slowly slid his hands down my arms. He lightly gripped my wrists and turned me to face him. I was *really* puzzled now. Just a second ago he was all heat, and sex, and lust, and...now he was just so...gentle and almost timid. Almost as if *he* was afraid I'd give in to him. The strange thing was that this made me want him even more. I tried the marks, but he was shielding from me. Why? "Asher, what's wrong? Please, tell me," I said. He remained silent, just gazing down at me. I could sense him withdrawing from me. He'd gone very still, not even breathing. I don't even think his heart was beating. His skin, where he was touching my wrists, was growing perceptibly cooler. I eased my left hand from his loose grip and raised it to the scarred right side of his face. 'What do you *want*, Asher?' I thought, my heart thudding loud in my ears. As my fingers traced the ancient runnels the holy water had burned there, fascinated by the texture and patterns they made, life returned to his eyes. He drew in a single breath, then said, "You."
"What?" "You asked what I wanted. I want *you*, Tamara. I want *you*," he answered. And I knew right then that he *had* me. Trouble was, *he* didn't seem to know it. "I'm right here, mon cher," I whispered as I drew him down into a kiss. I felt the life flow back into him in my arms. And with it, as his heart began to beat again, returned the *heat*. His hands kneaded down my back, molding my body to his. As he reached my hips, I pressed close enough that I could feel it as he grew hard against me. I slid my hands down the sides of his face and neck to his shoulders, pushing his shirt even wider open. His hands worked at my lower back and down my buttocks, causing me to wriggle against him, never breaking the kiss. He gave a low moan, almost a growl. He took a step back, releasing my lips from his. His hands shifted back up to my shoulders.
I felt the skirt of my gown slide to the floor in a puddle of velvet. Asher eased the bodice off my shoulders and dropped it to the floor by the skirt. I laughed, "And here I thought you were just really good at massage. I didn't even realize you'd undone the dress fastenings. This why you picked a two-peice design?" "Oui," he smiled, flashing fang and eyeing what he'd revealed. A thrill of both excitement and embarrassment shot through me as I became *very* aware that I stood there in nothing but a bra, panties, and thigh- highs. Oh, and the jewelry...mustn't forget *that*. "Such a *lovely* shade of red, my green-eyed beauty," Asher purred as his fingers played in my hair. I knew the only time my eyes looked green was when I was really upset, very excited, or blushing. Two of those conditions were present.
He removed the jeweled comb from my hair and laid it aside. The portion of hair that had been pinned by it cascaded down to frame my face and brushed the top of the strapless bra. His shirt had fallen off one shoulder to fully reveal the scarred side of his torso. He finished taking it off. It landed with the fallen dress. In a blinding blur, his fancy shoes and silken hose vanished. He'd even removed the lace cuffs and gold bows from the knees of his breeches. (Apparently they had been the garters for the hose. *My* hose had elastic tops, so no garters needed.) The sight of him in nothing but the white satin breeches was EXTREMELY arousing. He saw it in my eyes and gave a very *dirty* little laugh. He ran a lock of my hair through his hand, following it down my bra, and slowly traced across the top swell of my breast to the front closure. Ever so slowly, he undid one hook at a time. Then he peeled it aside and dropped it to the floor.
The he was on his knees in front of me, one hand on my butt, pressing me to his chest. He had one of my breasts in the other hand, kneading, his mouth enveloping the nipple and aureole of my other breast. I buried my hands in his hair, as he teased the nipple with his tongue. When he opened his eyes to gaze up at me, they were frosted over, pale blue topaz framed with the glittering gold lace of his lashes. A split second later, his fangs pierced the flesh of my breast. I threw my head back with a strangled cry somewhere between a gasp and a scream as his power burst over me. He slowly released my breast with a last tease of his tongue. He scooped me up as my legs collapsed under me. I clung to him, face buried in his hair and heart racing, as he carried me to his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.
Gently, Asher placed me on the bed. He ran his hands caressingly across my breasts and down my sides to my hips. He pulled the panties down my legs and dropped them to the floor, leaving the thigh-highs in place. I moved my hands up to remove the necklace. "Leave it on," Asher told me as his hands moved back up my hose, slowly separating my legs in the process. His mouth captured mine, and we tasted each other repeatedly. His hand explored, teased, and probed me, causing my breathing to quicken. I ran my hands over his chest, reveling in the contrasts of texture there. Suddenly, his hand was gone, replaced by *him*. I hadn't felt him remove the breeches. Running my hands down to his hips confirmed that they were gone, though.
Slowly, he pushed into me. My breath caught in my throat as I felt the roughness along one side of him. Before I could stop myself, my body clenched in a violent orgasm. My back arched and my fingers dug into his shoulders almost hard enough to draw blood. My lungs felt paralyzed...I couldn't breathe or scream. I finally managed to draw a shuddering breath. I looked up to see a worried look on Asher's face. "Mon Dieu! Tamara, if I have hurt you...," he started to say as he began to withdraw from me. The sensation of him pulling out was just as intoxicating as that on him pushing in. I wrapped my legs around his to keep him from withdrawing completely. He looked questioningly at me. I smiled up at him. "Asher, it has been two and a half years since I've been with *anyone*. Don't stop *now*!"
He took my reassurance and began moving inside of me. Agonizingly and deliciously slow at first, then faster with more force as I urged him on, thrusting my hips to meet him. My breath came in panting growls as I neared climax once again. I kissed him, starting at his mouth and working my way down his throat, past his shoulder, to his chest. My tongue played along the scars until I found *his* nipple. As the new orgasm took me, I bit down...HARD. His blood welled into my mouth in a scalding rush. I remained wrapped around him, nursing at the wound I'd inflicted, as he sat back on his knees and screamed. I felt him come inside of me, too overcome to control his own orgasm. He clasped me to him, and a shockwave of energy spread out from us. It seemed that we remained that way for an eternity.
I heard the door slam open and pulled back enough to turn my head that way. Anita and Jean-Claude stood framed in the doorway. The power we'd just unleashed had called them. Anita looked almost drugged and sated at the same time. Jean-Claude's expression was somewhere between awe and envy. "What the heck was THAT?" Richard's voice came from down the hall. In a flash, Jean-Claude was beside the bed, wrapping a sheet around Asher and me. Wouldn't do to shock the werewolf too much, now would it. Personally, I was beyond caring. Richard made it to the door of the bedroom. He took in the sight before him. Asher and myself embraced and wrapped in a sheet, Jean- Claude's hand on Asher's shoulder,...and the blood on my mouth.
"What's going on here?" he asked cautiously. Anita answered him, her voice still thick from the wash of power radiating from us. "She just took the fourth mark." A look I couldn't decipher passed between her and Jean-Claude. I heard Jean-Claude whisper to Asher, "Je vous envie, mon ami. C'etait...*incroyable*!" I wondered briefly if we had also fed their ardeur in the rush. Judging by the look on Anita's face, I'd say we probably did. "Come, mes amies," Jean-Claude told the others. "Let us give them their privacy." He shooed them out the door and closed it behind him.
The enormity of what I'd done crashed into me. I'd known what I was doing, even though I hadn't planned it. But I'd never really thought about what the ramifications would be. "My God," I whispered, horror creeping into my voice. "What have I *done*?! Derik! How can I ever tell him this? I'll *lose* him!" Tears began streaming down my face. "Asher, I *can't* lose him, I just CAN'T!" Wracking sobs began to shake my body. Asher held me to him, shushing me and stroking my hair. I was only vaguely aware that he was still inside me. He rocked me gently, trying to soothe me. "Don't fret so, cherie," he whispered into my hair. "Arrangements have already been made." "*What* arrangements?" I asked. "Even if Derik doesn't leave me over this, I'll still lose him. He'll grow old and die. I never will, now."
"No, ma rose d'acier. he and I discussed what would happen if you ever took the fourth mark. He can be brought over as a vampire once he's free. You won't lose him, Tamara," Asher told me. "I *promise*." "You promise?" "Oui." He kissed me tenderly. We made love one more time, slowly and gently, with the marks fully open. When we came again, I let him roll me, drifting off in the sweet, if temporary, oblivion his eyes offered.