Dalakis Passion 2 - Lucian's Delight Page 2

  against his erection, loving the feel of his large cock against her leg.

  His lips nuzzled her neck, nipping at her delicate skin. Desire pulsed from her

  swollen pussy to her breasts as she tilted her neck back, offering herself to him. She

  could sense his pleasure as she used the hand on the nape of his neck to pull him closer.

  Arching backwards, she was so lost in the pleasure of her arousal that the pain struck

  her unawares.

  Crying out, she pulled away as pain shot through her back and shoulders. Her

  body went hot and then cold, and she could feel the clamminess of her skin as she broke

  out into a sweat.

  He swore. Holding her carefully, he waited until the pain had subsided once again

  before pushing a damp strand of hair out of her face.

  "I should not have forgotten your injuries. Forgive me?" His words were formal

  and tinged with an accent she couldn't place.

  Although it was hard, she offered him a weak smile. "It's not your fault. I forgot

  them myself for a moment." But the moment was gone and memory flooded through

  her. She tried to sit up, but he held her easily, his arms velvet manacles around her.

  "Why are you in my dream?" His words shocked her as understanding began to

  clear the cobwebs of her muddled mind.

  "You're in my dream," she informed him.

  He arched one his black eyebrows and gave her a superior male look. "I think not."

  Delight had been having a variation of this nightmare for the past eight years. She

  was one of those few people who were able to master lucid dreaming, giving her the

  ability to be aware and exercise some control over them. Once she was fully cognizant

  of the dream, she always managed to wake herself up before they raped and killed her.

  Being chased and beaten was bad enough, even if it was just a dream.

  But not tonight. Tonight had been different. This time the dream had been more

  real, more vicious and had continued long past its usual ending. She had been unable to

  stop it and had panicked.

  Then he had come. Like some knight of old, he had rescued her and then claimed

  her as the spoils of victory. Now he had the nerve to tell her it was his dream, not hers.

  "I've had the same dream for years." Even though every inch of her body hurt, it

  was still screaming with arousal. Ignoring it, she forced herself to continue. "You're

  definitely in my dream." She poked him in his chest for emphasis, but it was like hitting

  steel. There was definitely no give in this man's chest.

  "This is unusual." He frowned down at her as if this was somehow all her fault.

  She just shrugged at him. As much as she wanted to stay with him and explore the

  sexual possibilities with him, Delight knew that it was time to wake up now. She

  desperately needed to put this dream behind her and find her equilibrium.

  "I have to go now." She tried once again to ease out of his arms.

  "No." There was a note of desperation in his voice that had not been there before.

  "If you're real, then you are the one."

  The intensity in his eyes began to scare her. They were turning from green to red

  right in front of her. The power that had been leashed suddenly lashed at her from all

  sides. Ignoring his pleas to stay, she clapped her hands over her ears and began to

  scream out loud. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!"

  Chapter Two

  As she bolted upright in bed, Delight could swear she heard his anguished cry

  ringing in her ears. She reached out with her mind, suddenly afraid to lose all contact

  with him. But it was too late. He was gone. Their connection had been severed as if it

  had never been. She felt empty inside, like something special and important had been

  lost.

  Falling back against her pillows, she rolled over and buried her face against them.

  She could feel the dampness of the tears she'd cried drying on her cheeks and the

  phantom pain in her back as it slowly disappeared.

  Half an hour later, she rolled over and dragged her aching body out of bed. She felt

  totally exhausted and drained by her nocturnal activities. Who knew that a dream could

  be so real or so vivid? And it was just a dream. Common sense had seeped gradually

  back into her mind. Now all she needed was a shower and a cup of hot, steaming coffee

  to put her back to rights.

  Wandering over to the window, she gazed out over the city she'd called home her

  entire life. The sun was rising for another day and it hung like a bloody orb in the sky,

  tingeing the city in red. Delight couldn't shake the feeling that it was a bad omen of

  things to come. New Orleans. The city of ghouls and legends and superstitions. There

  was no other place like it in the world.

  Delight shivered even though the air wafting through the open window was warm.

  Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she turned and padded silently to the

  connecting bathroom. She showered quickly, wrapped herself in a towel and returned

  to her bedroom to dress.

  All the while, a pair of green eyes haunted her. Every time she closed her eyes, his

  face was there in front of her, waiting for her. She laughed as she dragged on a pair of

  panties and a matching bra in a pale mint color. The stranger in her dream certainly fit

  the criteria for being a dream-man. Handsome in a rugged way, he exuded an aura of

  sexuality and power. Definitely a man way out of her league.

  Grabbing a long linen skirt in a light beige color, she topped it with a crisp,

  sleeveless white blouse. Examining herself in the mirror, she was pleased that her

  restless night didn't show on her face. Her hair was cut in a short style that fell easily

  into place every morning when she washed it. Its sandy brown color went well with her

  pale blue eyes. They were her best feature in an otherwise plain, heart-shaped face. Her

  lips were average, not too thin, not too thick, and her nose tilted upwards just a

  smidgen.

  Average height, build, and weight summed up everything about her as she

  frowned at her reflection. The only thing that was a little better than average was her

  breasts. At least they were a respectable thirty-four C-cup. At twenty-eight, she had

  long since accepted herself the way she was.

  Sighing, she went to the closet and pulled out a pair of beige loafers and slipped her

  feet into them. Just because she was only five-foot-five didn't mean she wore heels.

  When you were on your feet all day like she was, comfort was the only thing that

  mattered.

  Delight had one hand on the doorknob when she swore softly and stomped back

  over to her dresser. Picking up a tube of lipstick, she swiped the light shade across her

  lips. It didn't show up very much, but the rosy color flattered her features. It was more

  for her than for anyone else, giving her a sense that she was donning her professional

  armor so she could face the day a little more easily.

  With a nod in the mirror, she turned and left her room. She was going to check her

  brother's room as she passed by, but she could hear Chase rummaging around inside.

  She thanked God every day that her brother was different from most other eighteen-

  year-olds.

  Responsible, polite, hardworking, and a joy to be around, Chase had been her sole

  responsibility for the last ten years since the death of t
heir mother to an unexpected

  fatal heart attack. Their father had abandoned them years before and neither of them

  thought about him much. He simply hadn't ever been a part of their lives.

  Delight hurried down the back stairs. She could smell the coffee wafting on the

  breeze and she knew that Miss Nadine was already up and hard at work. Stopping at

  the bottom of the stairs, she smiled as she watched the older woman bustling around

  the kitchen.

  Miss Nadine might be in her mid-sixties, but nobody had better suggest that she

  was old, or they'd get a tongue-lashing that they'd never recover from. Tall, thin, and

  full of energy, she worked nonstop from morning until night. Her face was long, but

  her mocha-colored skin was surprisingly smooth and unlined, except for the laugh lines

  around her mouth and eyes. Always smiling, she kept her thick black hair swept up in a

  fashionable chignon. She looked more like an aging movie starlet than someone's

  grandmother. Her chocolate-brown eyes were shrewd, her heart was as big as an ocean,

  and Delight loved her like a mother.

  Ten years ago, she'd shown up on the front doorstep of Miss Nadine Grande's Bed

  and Breakfast with little Chase's hand clasped tight in hers. Boldly, she'd knocked on

  the door and announced that she was there about the live-in position of

  maid/cook/waitress. Delight had worn some of her mother's makeup, trying her best

  to look older than her eighteen years. But the truth was, she was desperate. Their

  mother's death had left them in dire straits. They were being evicted from their

  apartment at the end of the month, and if she couldn't find a job she would lose Chase

  to a foster home.

  Miss Nadine had taken one look at her and ushered them into the kitchen where

  she proceeded to feed them breakfast all the while dragging their entire life story out of

  them. She did it so smoothly that the story had been tumbling from Delight's lips with

  no way to stop it. Chase had started crying quietly and Delight had picked up her

  young brother and headed towards the door, knowing she'd blown one of her few

  employment opportunities.

  She'd never made it out of the kitchen.

  Miss Nadine's no-nonsense voice stopped her in her tracks, asking her if she could

  start immediately. They'd packed their belongings and moved into the small attic

  apartment of the three-story bed-and-breakfast that very day. Delight had worked hard

  to make sure that Miss Nadine never regretted her decision. The job had been perfect

  for her, and the two women had forged a deep friendship.

  Chase had benefited the most. Delight was able to be there for him when he got

  home from school every day. She was able to participate in his school activities while

  providing a roof over his head and food on the table. But even as a child, Chase had

  done his share of work around "The Grande", as they all called it. Now at eighteen, he

  worked part-time at an art supply store during the school year, keeping himself in

  pocket money and art supplies. He was a talented sculptor and worked in wood, stone,

  and metal, selling his creations down at Jackson Square.

  "You gonna stand there all day or do you want some coffee?" Miss Nadine's

  smooth tones cut through Delight's thoughts like a knife, making her hurry into the

  kitchen.

  "Sorry I'm a little slow this morning." Delight hated that she'd slept late. It was

  only seven, but she was usually helping in the kitchen by now.

  The older woman just glared at her as she whipped the batter for her famous pecan

  pancakes. "You work too hard, child." Plunking the bowl on the counter, she shook her

  spoon at Delight. "Here all day and then bartending at that fancy restaurant four nights

  a week. You need to get out and have some fun. Maybe have a social life." Grumbling,

  she tested the griddle before pouring some batter on its hot surface. "When was the last

  time you had a date?"

  Delight opened her mouth to speak and slowly closed it. She thought and thought.

  "There you go," Miss Nadine said as she watched the pancakes cook. "Child, I date

  more than you do and that's just not right."

  "I just haven't met anyone that interests me." Even as she spoke the words, the man

  from her dreams popped into her head. Just the thought of him sent a shiver down her

  spine and made her feel all hot and bothered. She could feel the moisture between her

  legs making her panties damp, and suddenly her nipples had become hard pebbles

  pushing against the cups of her bra. To hide her discomfort, she hurried to the

  cupboard, pulled down a mug, poured herself a cup of coffee, and took a fortifying sip.

  Keeping her back to Miss Nadine, who usually saw way too much with those laser

  brown eyes, she went to the refrigerator and pulled out fresh fruit. Carrying it to the

  counter, she began to section oranges with the ease of long experience. "Besides, I make

  good money at Etienne's and the tips are good." Wielding the knife like a machete, she

  attacked the bananas next. "Chase wants to go to art school and he's too talented not to

  get the opportunity."

  "And what about you, child?" The soft words struck Delight like a cruel whip,

  lacerating her soul.

  Swallowing hard, she tossed the fruit into a large glass bowl and began to pluck

  green grapes from the bunch. "I'm fine just the way I am." And she was, she reminded

  herself, blinking back tears.

  Miss Nadine opened her mouth to speak, but the moment was lost when they heard

  the stomping of large sneakers down the back stairs. Chase came to an abrupt halt

  when he entered the kitchen. He looked from one woman to the other before

  proceeding with caution into the room. "Everything okay?" His voice was casual, but

  his expression showed his concern.

  Chase had always been sensitive, even as a child, and Delight knew that was part of

  what would help him become a great artist and an even better man. Walking over to her

  little brother, she tilted her head back and peered into pale blue eyes that were just like

  her own. Her little brother was over six feet tall and filling out more and more every

  day.

  Reaching up, she patted him on the cheek. "Everything is fine. Now have breakfast

  so you won't be late for work." Now that school was out for the summer, he was

  working full-time at the art store and working on his own sculptures in his spare time.

  "You're sure?" Catching her hand in his much larger, rougher one, he gave it a

  squeeze.

  "I'm sure," she smiled up at him. All she wanted out of life was for Chase to be

  happy and be able to pursue his art. Life was flowing just the way she wanted it to, and

  if sometimes she was a little lonely and wanted a little more from life, well that was just

  too bad. Her life had been a good one so far and she wouldn't change a single moment

  of it.

  "Stubborn," Miss Nadine muttered under her breath as she flipped pancakes onto a

  large plate and handed them to Chase.

  "And don't you forget it," Delight taunted. With the sun shining in through the

  kitchen window, making patterns of light and shadow on the wall, and the three of

  them together, she felt the last remnants of her nightmare fade away.

  And when she heard the sound of footsteps on the front stair
s, she hurried out of

  the kitchen to bid one of the guests good morning as she led him into the dining room.

  Another normal day was about to begin.

  Chapter Three

  Lucian Dalakis came completely awake in the blink of an eye. One moment he was

  in a dead sleep, the next he was wide awake, alert and totally aware of his

  surroundings. Lying in his large, luxurious bed that had once belonged to a Russian

  prince, he mentally scanned his home. None of the doors or windows had been

  tampered with and every stick of antique furniture was in its place. Everything was as it

  should be. He was alone.

  The remnants of his dream played over and over in his head like an unending loop.

  The dream had hit him as soon as he'd closed his eyes just before dawn. He could enter

  other people's dreams at will, but it was rare for his kind to have dreams of their own.

  So when it did happen, he paid attention. He prided himself on his cool, urbane

  demeanor and his control. But in his dream, he'd had neither.

  When he'd first heard her cry, it was as if someone had stuck a knife in his heart.

  Her pain was his pain. Then his anger had stirred like a sleeping beast suddenly

  unleashed. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. He wanted--no, needed--to

  kill those men who had dared to put their hands on her body. Dared to hurt her. Even

  now, his fangs lengthened and his hands curled into fists at the mere thought.

  Taking a deep breath, he slowly unclenched his fingers and forced himself to relax.

  It was only a dream. Even as he told himself that, he knew that he didn't believe it. It

  was more than a dream. She was as real as he was and she was out there in the city.

  Alone. Unprotected. Waiting for him.

  He could still taste her on his lips. A combination of honey and sweet woman. His

  tongue flicked over his teeth, savoring the flavor. Lucian had lived a long, long time

  and had made love to many women--all kinds of women. They fascinated him with

  their soft skin, scent, curves and hollows. But never had he felt such a need in his life as

  he did for this particular woman.

  Delight. Her name suited her. Delicate features gave her an ethereal air, and her

  pale blue eyes shone out of the face of an angel. She'd worn no makeup, and hadn't