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    Dalakis Passion 2 - Lucian's Delight


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      An Ellora's Cave Romantica Publication

      www.ellorascave.com

      Lucian's Delight

      ISBN # 1-4199-0286-5

      ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

      Lucian's Delight Copyright© 2005 N.J. Walters

      Edited by: Pamela Cohen.

      Cover art by Syneca.

      Electronic book Publication: September 2005

      This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written

      permission from the publisher, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-

      3502.

      This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales

      is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors' imagination and used fictitiously.

      Warning:

      The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. Lucian's Delight has

      been rated E­rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers.

      Ellora's Cave Publishing offers three levels of RomanticaTM reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-

      rotic), and X (X-treme).

      S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.

      E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall

      word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find

      objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated

      titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as

      "fucking", "cock", "pussy", and such within their work of literature.

      X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles,

      stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

      * * *

      DALAKIS PASSION:

      LUCIAN'S DELIGHT

      N.J. Walters

      * * *

      Dedication

      To my husband who shares my love of vampire lore and all things gothic. Thank

      you for your support and input and for caring as much about the Dalakis family as I do.

      Thanks, as always, to my editor, Pamela Cohen, who continually supports my

      writing and my ideas.

      And to the many readers who have fallen in love with the Dalakis brothers, thank

      you for taking these remarkable men into your hearts.

      * * *

      Lucian's Delight

      Chapter One

      Run!

      The thought exploded in her brain like a blinding flash of light.

      Run!

      She was frozen in place like a deer caught in the headlights, not knowing what to

      do, where to turn. Then suddenly, she was in full flight, racing through the darkness,

      fleeing for her life. Her heart was pounding so loud it drowned out the footsteps behind

      her, but she knew her pursuers were there. Unknown monsters chased her, wanting to

      run her to ground for the sheer pleasure of doing so.

      Muscles straining, lungs burning, she redoubled her efforts, racing on through the

      dark, lamp-lit night searching for a place to hide. Looking for a sanctuary.

      Up ahead, she could barely discern the outline of a wrought iron fence and she

      sprinted towards it. The swift tapping of shoes on the pavement behind her spurred her

      to go faster. She risked a glance over her shoulder, but couldn't see anyone behind her.

      But she knew they were there. They always were.

      The tall, solid bars of the old iron structure came into view and for a moment she

      panicked. Where was the gate? Tears slipped from her eyes, a combination of the

      whipping wind stinging them and her rising level of frustration and fear. Dashing the

      tears away with the back of her hand, she kept running while her eyes frantically

      scanned for any opening in the fence.

      There had to be a gate. There just had to be. The scattered, dim streetlights did little

      to cut through the dark gloom of the night. Just then the clouds above parted enough to

      allow a small sliver of moonlight to shine down. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

      When she finally saw the rusty old gate that hung partially open, leaning

      precariously on hinges, she wanted to shout with relief but she could barely gulp in a

      breath.

      Skidding to a stop, she gripped the iron bars and tugged slightly. Stuck. The stupid

      thing was jammed. Despair threatened to overwhelm her and she leaned on the gate for

      support as she eyed the opening. Sucking in her breath, she began to squeeze herself

      through the small space, ignoring the discomfort as her breasts were compressed

      against her chest. It was tight and for a moment she thought she might not fit.

      Clamping her lips together, she swallowed hard and made herself focus. Angling

      her body, she pushed herself, ignoring the pain as a piece of metal gashed her back.

      Then she was through, stumbling when she finally popped out on the other side, falling

      towards the ground.

      Rocks and dirt scraped the palms of her hands as she kept herself from sprawling

      facedown onto the ground. Pushing away from the hard-packed earth, she ignored the

      pain and kept running. She had to find a place to hide somewhere that they wouldn't

      find her. It was only when she started searching her surroundings that she realized

      where she was.

      Tall majestic statues rose high against the blackness of the sky. They were probably

      beautiful in the light of the day, but in the darkness of the night they took on a

      threatening aura. White, crumbling stone littered the path as row after row of family

      tombs lay in front of her. A cemetery. She was in one of the older, dilapidated cemeteries

      that littered the city.

      Metal grated against metal. She could hear the sound of several men swearing as

      they wrenched the gate fully open. There was no time left. She pitched herself into the

      unknown, slipping as quietly as she could among the tombs.

      Perhaps there was safety among the dead.

      Crouching behind a large graying mausoleum, she held herself still, quieted her

      breath and tried to hear over the pounding of her heart. They were out there

      somewhere and they were hunting for her.

      She could sense their perverted pleasure permeating the air. They were feeding off

      her fear, anticipating what they would do to her before they killed her. She shuddered

      and her stomach rolled at the thought of being raped by these three men before she

      died. And she would die. They would not let her live.

      Anger flooded her body, pushing away the chains of fear. She would outsmart

      them or she would go down fighting. There was no way she would go easy, like some

      lamb to the slaughter. She was a Deveraux and Deverauxes were fighters and survivors.

      She couldn't hear them now, but she knew that they were out there. Looking.

      Searching. They would not give up the hunt easily. But if she could slip out while they

      were searching the cemetery for her, she had a chance. They didn't know who she was,

      so if she eluded
    them this night, she was free.

      Taking a deep breath, she calmed her body and her mind, and began to move.

      Stealthily, she slipped behind the stone mausoleums. Slowly and steadily she crept,

      stopping to listen every few steps. The gate was in view once again. This time it was

      wide open, and there was no one in sight.

      Freedom was only steps away. She exploded like the shot out of a gun. One second

      she was still, the next she was almost at the iron gate.

      Almost there.

      She could taste success. Her hands reached out in front of her as if she could grasp

      her freedom and hold it--

      Flying.

      Suddenly, she was airborne, her body weightless as it flew through the air. There

      was no time to brace herself as she crashed down against the stone and dirt. Her head

      bounced off the hard ground and the breath was knocked out of her body. She lay

      there, dazed, hurt and confused.

      He loomed over her, his body blocking what little light there was. His laughter

      echoed through the graveyard, low and sinister.

      She dug her heels into the dirt, scrabbling backwards to escape him, but he reached

      down and grabbed her foot. Pulling hard, he yanked her towards him. "I've got her!"

      he yelled as he dropped to his knees and shoved her legs wide open.

      She wanted to scream, but her throat had closed up with fear and the only sound

      she could make was more like the low moan of a wounded animal. Letting go of her

      legs his hands moved roughly up her body as he tore her blouse open and shoved her

      bra out of the way. She forced herself to ignore what he was doing to her. Because she

      wasn't fighting him, he would think that she was paralyzed with fear. Defeated.

      Detaching herself from what he was doing to her body, she curled her hands into

      fists and struck hard and fast. Her arm shot straight towards his throat, her aim perfect.

      The weight left her body as he toppled off her, gasping for breath. Rolling to her side,

      she tried to drag herself to her feet.

      But it was too late.

      Flesh met flesh as the back of a man's hand cracked across her face and she tasted

      blood in her mouth. Falling back into the dirt she knew that this time there was no way

      out. She could hear them all swearing and arguing in the background, but she no longer

      cared. Deep in her mind, she cried out for help and was shocked when she got an

      answer.

      "Who are you?" a calm, soothing male voice inquired.

      "Delight Deveraux," she replied immediately. It never occurred to her not to

      answer the voice. As it washed over her, some of the pain receded, and she wanted

      desperately to hear it again.

      There was silence for a long moment and despair filled her. Somehow the loss of his

      voice was worse than what was happening to her physical body. Delight could feel the

      men stripping off her shirt and squeezing her breasts, bruising and brutal as they

      mauled her. But it was almost as if that was happening to someone else. She was

      focused entirely on the voice in her head, trying to bring it back.

      Her head fell to one side and she opened her eyes. A lone flowerpot sat in front of

      the tomb across from her. Their lovely blossoms were barely visible and looked black in

      the dark, yet they comforted her as she prepared to die.

      "I am coming." The voice flooded her entire body with strength.

      She heard the rasp of a zipper as one of her assailants knelt between her knees and

      shoved her thighs wide open. Acting on instinct, she drew back her leg and kicked him

      in the chest, knocking him backwards with her unexpected assault.

      "Bitch," he swore as his fist came towards her. She closed her eyes and braced

      herself for the pain.

      It never came.

      Screams rent the night. High-pitched, terrified and male.

      Rolling to her side and curling her body for protection, Delight squinted into the

      darkness but couldn't see anything. The sounds stopped abruptly. The silence was more

      frightening than the screams.

      The darkness parted like a curtain and he was suddenly there in front of her. His

      eyes blazed like fire and pure menace radiated from every pore of his body. She glanced

      away, shaken by the intensity in his gaze.

      Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the still body of one of her attackers. His

      sightless eyes were wide open, staring up at the night sky. Blood flowed from a wide

      slash in his neck and soaked into the ground around his head.

      "Don't look at them." His softly spoken command made her flinch. This man was

      lethal in a way her assailants could never be. He was power. He was judgment and

      death.

      Yet, his hands were gentle as he turned her onto her back. She could feel him

      touching her, soothing her aching flesh. It took her a moment to realize that he was

      dressing her, covering her naked body with her clothes. The reality of her ordeal began

      to sink in and she began to shake. The dark stranger sat down on the ground next to her

      and lifted her into his lap as easily as one would a child.

      Biting her lip, she tried to hold back the tears that threatened. But then he stroked

      her bruised cheek with his fingers. Ever so softly, his lips grazed her wound. She was

      lost.

      Huge sobs welled up inside her and spilled out of her mouth, their tortured sounds

      too loud in the quiet of the cemetery. Her entire body shook as she released her fear and

      pain.

      Strong arms wrapped around her as he pulled her tighter into his embrace. Heat

      radiated from his massive body and she snuggled close to him, needing his warmth and

      comfort. He said nothing, but his chest rumbled as he made low comforting sounds.

      Safe.

      He made her feel safe in a world gone mad. She owed him her life. She had called

      and he had come. Time had no meaning as she poured out her tears. When she was

      finally spent, she sniffed and scrubbed her hands over her face before finally raising it

      to look at her savior.

      The moon came from behind the clouds, illuminating his face. Long black hair fell

      over his shoulders in a silky curtain, framing a face that was harsh, yet beautiful in its

      own way. His cheekbones were chiseled, his forehead high, and his lips thin. But it was

      his eyes that captured her. A brilliant emerald green, they were hard and cold as he

      looked out over the night, but the moment he sensed her gaze on him, they changed.

      Heat radiated from their depths as he raised his fingers to her face and carefully

      brushed away the remains of her tears.

      Something about this man called to her on a very deep physical and emotional

      level. Delight knew that she was still shaken after her ordeal and that the last thing she

      should want was a man's hands on her body. But her body wasn't listening to her. It

      was totally illogical, but this stranger made her feel protected, cherished, and wanted.

      Slowly, he lowered his head. His lips were gentle as they covered hers. He tasted

      and nibbled every inch of her lips as if he had all the time in the world.

      It was she who needed more. It was crazy, but she wanted him. His touch and

      caress would wipe out the stain of the men who had hurt her and make her feel whole

      again.

      Her lips parted on a sigh as she raised her head towards him, offering him more.

    &n
    bsp; Delight could feel his smile against her mouth just before his tongue slipped inside.

      Sighing, she opened her mouth to him.

      His tongue tasted her, mapping out every contour and finding every crevice.

      Delight lay in his arms, surrendering to the bliss. Cradling the back of her head with his

      hand, he held her securely as he kissed her. She leaned easily into his strength, trusting

      him to support her.

      The muscles of his chest rippled under his shirt as she skimmed her hand over his

      torso. Continuing upward, she slid her hand behind his neck and urged him closer.

      When her tongue stroked his, he moaned deep in his chest, and she shivered as the

      sound vibrated throughout her entire body. Their tongues tangled slowly, a dance of

      seduction meant to entice and not to frighten.

      Delight could feel his erection growing as it pushed against her leg. She should

      have been afraid, even disgusted after what had just happened to her. Instead, she felt

      an answering arousal well up deep within her. Her panties dampened as her body

      softened in preparation for receiving him. The inner muscles of her sex clenched as if

      begging for his cock. Her breasts swelled and her nipples tightened to aching points.

      Never had she been aroused so quickly or thoroughly in her life.

      He coaxed her tongue into his mouth and then he sucked on it, drawing it deeper to

      him. Delight was immediately addicted to the slightly coppery taste and began to

      explore his mouth. He angled her face so that he could deepen the kiss. Her entire body

      was humming as she gave a little sound of encouragement.

      His large hand cupped her breast, covering the soft mound completely. Squeezing

      gently, he moved his palm over the tip in a slow, easy circle. Delight tipped back her

      head and moaned. The moment her lips lost contact with his, he peppered her forehead,

      eyelids, cheeks, nose and chin with gentle, seductive kisses.

      When his hand moved towards her other breast, she moaned again, this time in

      anticipation of the pleasure. She squirmed, trying to get closer to him, rubbing her thigh

     


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