Dead Perfect

He peeled off his socks, then swung her into his arms and carried her to the king-sized canopied bed. He lowered her gently to the mattress, then dropped down beside her and quickly gathered her into his arms.



Shannah pressed herself against him, loving the feel of his body against hers. Her hands moved over him, eager to explore. She ran her tongue over his skin, over the pulse throbbing in the hollow of his throat. His body was hard, his skin smooth, cool beneath her questing fingertips.



He endured her exploration for several minutes and then began an exploration of his own.



There was no hesitation in his touch. Each stroke of his hand, each kiss, branded her as his and only his.



He kissed her and caressed her until she writhed beneath him, yearning for the release that only he could give. She was glad now, glad that she had waited for this man, this moment, glad she hadn’t squandered her virginity on some other man. This was how it should be, a once in a lifetime moment, and one worth waiting for, just as her mother had promised.



She lifted her hips to receive him, moaned with pleasure as his body became a part of hers.



They moved together, slowly at first, and then with greater intensity as the passion between them grew stronger, deeper. She felt his fangs at her throat, cried out as the pleasure of his bite mingled with the pleasure of her release.



He groaned deep in his throat, his body convulsing, his eyes blazing until, sated, he collapsed on top of her, his forehead pressed to hers as he whispered that he loved her.



She clung to him when he would have left her. “Not yet.”



“I’m too heavy for you.”



“No.”



Rising up on his elbows, he gazed down into her face. “Any complaints, Mrs. Moss?”



“Just one.”



He lifted one brow. “And that would be…?”



“It was over too soon.”



He smiled, looking incredibly pleased with himself. “Then we shall have to do it again.”



“Can you?” she asked. “I always heard that men, well, that they had to wait a while before they could…you know, do it again?”



“Ah, my lovely wife, you forget, I am not a mortal man.”



“Yes,” she said, grinning broadly, “I did forget.”



He brushed a kiss across her lips. “It will be my pleasure to remind you, and often.”



She ran her fingertips down his chest, her nails lightly scraping the skin. “I promise to pay close attention.”



“And I promise to never disappoint you.”



“Never?” She lifted her hands to his nape, let her fingers sift through his hair. It was thick and silky.



“Never, my love.”



He rolled off her, drawing her body against his, his arm holding her close while their bodies cooled and their breathing returned to normal. And then he lifted her in his arms and carried her into the bathroom.



Shannah was somewhat surprised when he put her in the shower, then stepped in beside her and closed the door. He turned on the water, picked up a bar of scented soap, and proceeded to wash her from her neck to her heels.



The touch of his soapy hands moving languidly over her body was the most sensually erotic feeling she had ever known.



Picking up another bar of soap, she decided to treat him to the same and found, to her surprise, that washing Ronan was even more arousing than having him wash her. His body was firm and muscular and beautiful. And aroused.



In minutes, the shower’s glass walls were thick with steam and only part of it came from the hot water.



Taking the soap from her hand, he dropped it on the floor and drew her into his arms. His body was wet and slick against her own.



“What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.



“I’m going to make love to you.”



“In here?”



“In here,” he said, and easing her back against the shower wall, he showed her that there was more than one way to make love.



They spent three glorious nights in the Waldorf. Shannah had decided to wait until she had been a vampire a little longer before leaving the country for the first time. Besides, she didn’t want to waste time traveling when she could be making love to her husband. They left the hotel only to hunt. Shannah explored her husband’s body until she knew it as well as, if not better than, she knew her own.



No matter what else they decided to do, somehow it always ended up in love-making, like the night they decided to watch a movie, and then ended up acting out all the love scenes, and the night they went to the movies and made out like a couple of teenagers in the back row.



This evening, they had gone out on the balcony to dance under the stars and ended up making love on a blanket in the moonlight.



“So,” Ronan asked later that night. “Any regrets?”



She considered for a moment. She was strong and healthy. She would always appear to be twenty-four years old. She wouldn’t age. She would never get sick. She would never have a child…



“Shannah?”



“I’m sorry we can’t have children.”



He nodded. “That’s always been one of my regrets, as well.”



“Is there no way?”



“None.”



It was a fact she would have to accept. And then she frowned as a new thought occurred to her.



“I won’t get any older,” she said, “but my parents will. Won’t they wonder why I don’t age?



How will I take care of them when they get old?”



“Some people stay young looking for a long time,” Ronan said.



“But…”



“Shannah, love, let’s worry about it when the time comes.”



She smiled self-consciously. He was right, of course. There was no point in borrowing trouble.



She trailed her fingertips down his cheek. “Have you always been this wise?”



“Always,” he said, stifling a grin.



Her hand trailed down his neck, over his chest, his stomach. “And this handsome?”



He nodded, his eyes growing hot as her fingers caressed him. “Careful, love,” he murmured.



She batted her eyelashes at him. “Is something wrong?”



“Not a thing. But you know, there are always consequences to every action.”



“Really?” she asked with mock innocence. “What do you think would happen if I did this?” she asked, and trailed her tongue over his chest.



“I can assure you that this would happen.” His voice was a low growl as he tucked her body beneath his. “If you wake the tiger, you have to pay the price.”



“Nice kitty,” she said, and burst out laughing, only to gasp with pleasure as he began to caress her.



“Nice kitty,” she said again. Suddenly breathless, she lifted her hips to receive him, held on tight as he moved deep within her, until it seemed she was floating among the stars, her mind and body melded with his, making it impossible to separate her pleasure from his.



The dawn came all too soon. Ronan took the usual precautions. He put wards on the doors and windows so that no one would disturb them. They took another quick shower together.



Although he could have stayed up for another hour or two, Ronan got into bed, his arm slipping around Shannah’s waist as she slid in beside him. With a little sigh, she snuggled against him, her head pillowed on his shoulder.



“Good night, my love,” he whispered.



But she was already asleep.



They returned home the following night. Because of all the wedding gifts and luggage, Ronan had rented a car at the airport.



Shannah glanced at Ronan as he pulled into the driveway. Amazing, how quickly one’s life could change, she thought. And how radically it could change. Not so long ago, she had been at death’s door. Now she was a married woman, a married vampire, she amended, with all of eternity before her.



“Here we are, love,” Ronan murmured as he pulled up in front of the house. “Home sweet home.”



She laughed softly, thinking how happy she was to be here, with him.



He opened the car door for her, and she followed him around to the trunk. It was full of wedding gifts, as was the back seat.



He looked at her and shook his head. “What are we going to do with all this stuff?”



Shannah shrugged. She had wondered that herself. They really had no need for a toaster or a mixer or for any of the dishes and pots and pans they had received.



“At least we can use the blankets and the sheets,” she said. “And the quilt my mother made us.”



Ronan nodded.



“We can give the rest of the stuff to the Salvation Army, or maybe donate it to a women’s shelter,” Shannah suggested.



“Let’s leave it here for now,” he said, closing the trunk. “We can decide what to do with it tomorrow…” His voice trailed off and he spun around, peering into the darkness.



“What is it?” she asked anxiously.



“Get in the…” His words ended in a groan.



Shannah gasped as something hot stung her cheek. “Ronan!”



Her eyes widened in horror when he turned toward her. One side of his face and neck were raw, as though he had been burned with acid.



“Get inside!” he roared. “Now!”



She started to ask him what had happened when she saw a movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she let out a cry of alarm when Jim Hewitt lunged forward, a long wooden stake in one hand, an empty bottle in the other. A bottle she knew must have been filled with holy water.



She screamed as Hewitt drove the stake into Ronan’s back.



“Run, Shannah,” Hewitt cried. “My car’s at the end of the driveway.”



“Stop it!” she screamed. “You’ll kill him!”



Hewitt’s teeth flashed in a wolfish grin as he twisted the stake in Ronan’s back.



With a grunt of pain, Ronan dropped to his hands and knees.



The scent of fresh hot blood wafted through the night.



With a scream of rage, Shannah grabbed Hewitt by the arm. Startled, he glanced at her. “What are you doing?”