LOVE NOTES by Devlin Dalcon
The first sweet notes rise in the air. Anticipation blossoms into pure satisfaction. Everything you have ever hoped for, everything you ever longed for cascades over you, washing away all that was, replacing it with new possibilities of a new beginning. There is nothing but this moment, where everything is deliciously right, everything is faultless. All you ever wanted and needed lies in the crystal clear notes breaking over you, enfolding you in sweet perfection. This is truth, this is pure emotion, beyond what any words could ever convey. You are captive, motionless under its sway until the last echoing notes fade away and are lost to silence.
Is it any wonder that music is often used to woo the reluctant partner, or seduce the innocent lover-to-be? Not to me, who has used them for centuries, along with my many other wiles. But I am as much captive as captor in my love for music. It is emotion in its purest form. The closest parallel is the act of love itself, that joining of imperfect flesh that creates its own perfect music. Sadly, the act of serenading a lover has fallen to the wayside in this new age of Internet and email. So I penned this short entreaty to draw your attention to where it belongs: me.
I have recently released my memoir, aptly titled Immortal Confessions. It is a true story, a recounting of my life among others of my kind, my associations with the various werecreatures and magic wielders who share my world, and my most beloved paramour, the mortal woman Annabelle, who changed my immortal life for all time.
I must admit, when we met, I had no intention of falling for her. Anna was simply in perfect condition to be seduced. She also had a large dowry I had hoped to steal. I confess I did not think her beautiful, those nights I first spent instructing her in the art of poetry. But the more time I spent in her company, the more I came to admire her spirit. And in a heady moment when I thought my chances were best, I made my move. Anna rejected me soundly, throwing up all of my sins as proof. I denied them, of course, even as I found myself admitting my love for her.
Horrified at my confession, I left her. But lucky for me, Anna was a woman very capable of pursuit. It was her bad fortune to find a wounded bear in the forest just as I heard her calling to me, necessitating a dashing rescue that cost me more than a little pain, even as it revealed my true nature to her. But she did not flee from me. Instead we consummated our budding passion there on the banks of the Seine that night in soft sighs of pleasure found, and the heady, enticing scent of lovemaking. The symphony we played together was unmistakably original, and moving. You see, I had never loved before Anna. And my only thought as she lay in my arms was that I had to have her for my own, at all costs.
I’ll say no more, lest I spoil the climax of the story, and leave you with a soft nudge to discover its delights for yourself. Thank you for your time, my beloved devotees. I hope to see you again very soon, perhaps in your dreams.
Back List of Promise Me Series titles:
Surrender to Me (PM novella + excerpt from Immortal Confessions)
Promise Me (Promise Me Series #1)
Broken Promise (Promise Me Series #2
Taken in the Night (Promise Me Series #3
Taken for His Own (Promise Me Series #4)
Promise Me Anthology #1
At the turn of the 19th century, former aristocrat turned lowly vampire Devlin Dalcon gets by on his supernatural charms until he meets bride-to-be Annabelle. Smitten by Anna’s forthrightness, intellect, and bravery, Devlin risks his life to spirit her away to Fontainebleau, France. There Devlin begins his ascent to power in a desperate bid for wealth and social standing for himself and Anna. Forging alliances with other supernatural leaders, he usurps the vampire Lord of Fontainebleau, amassing many enemies during his brief reign. Within a few years, he and Anna are again forced to flee for their lives to America. Living in hiding, Devlin is determined to amend his ways. But when tragedy strikes, Devlin’s dark side, never fully extinguished, emerges rampant, securing him the bloody throne of America even as his malevolence and loneliness consumes him.
I put my arms around her, telling her soothingly that I had her, that she was safe. When she looked up at me, her eyes scared and uncertain, I kissed her without a thought. A moment later, I laid her down gently, even as I also maneuvered the cloak underneath her. The first time I touched her breasts, she cringed back, letting out a gasp.
Damn vampire flesh. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to give you a chill.”
“It’s not that,” she whispered, flushing madly from her forehead to her chest. “No one has ever touched me like this.”
A hot rush of happiness filled me, tempered with a drop of unease that I quickly pushed away. Possessively, I bent my head to her breast and suckled gently. Anna trembled, then moaned softly. I released her nipple, then looked up at her flushed face from under lowered brows. “And no one else ever shall, Love.”
I carefully removed her clothes, kissing every inch of her soft loveliness, using her long cloak as a blanket to cover us. I wasn’t cold, though I thought she had to be. But I didn’t do what I did slowly because it was our first time, or because I knew she was probably scared. I did it because I loved her. I wanted not to rush or hurry. I wanted to experience this as long as it would last, for her to desire what was coming as much as I did.
The more I caressed and kissed her, the more she writhed, her body responding involuntarily to my ministrations.