"This was a quick read and an enjoyable one, and it’s always a plus when the women in the story are not simpering females but strong intelligent women."
-- Fuchsia, Long and Short Reviews
Caveat Emptor 7: Eternal Lovers
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Copyright ©2012 Zenobia Renquist
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Peace was within Darius's reach for the first time in nearly a millennium. All his patience would finally pay off. In a few days, maybe even hours, he would no longer have to hide himself or his wife from the public. They could walk around in the open and enjoy the world the way they truly wanted.
True, a simple masking spell could have allowed them the same freedom, but Darius was sick of hiding. The majority of the world thought him a myth because only the mage elite ever saw him, the Mage King, the most powerful mage in all existence.
Ego didn't cause him to make that boast. A mage's power and magical prowess grew with practice and age and was only limited by personal potential. Potential was not a state of mind but a limitation placed on the mage by nature. Darius had reached his potential a hundred years ago. He'd had over a thousand years to hone his craft until his powers were unmatched. Not wanting others to reach his level, he'd cast a self-perpetuating spell that sought out those with the potential to reach his level and capped them at prime status. Few of them ever made it that far.
The reason his younger self had been catapulted back in time was because Darius had removed the cap under the guise of trying to stop his escape, giving his younger self access to all his potential at once. With that kind of power at his disposal, Darius could enact world peace in the only way it would actually last -- kill every last person on earth.
But that wasn't the type of peace he wanted. Nor would he ever dream of angering his wife in such a way. It had taken almost a hundred years for her to truly forgive him for massacring hundreds of thousands of vampires and starting the mage-vampire war. He didn't plan to give her another reason to be pissed with him, and he hadn't started the war on a whim.
The original vampires had been out of control. Their bite was contagious and changed their prey in a matter of minutes, which was vastly different from the vampires Darius knew. The vampires he knew, of which his wife was one, had fifty-fifty odds of transforming a human into a vampire. If the change didn't take, the human died. And the change wasn't effected through a bite. The vampire had to share blood. And not just any blood. It had to be the black blood that flowed through a special vein in their left arm.
Culling the vampire masses of old had sparked off a bloody war that raged through time with the humans siding with the mages. Not because the humans felt the mages were right, but because the vampires had attacked everyone who wasn't a vampire. The humans had retaliated, becoming a formidable opponent to the vampires. Darius regretted the lives lost, but knew it to be a necessity that would facilitate the proclamation of peace he was about to make.
In a few short minutes, he would address the world, showing himself to the public for the first time in centuries. He planned to offer the vampires a truce, the terms of which would be hashed out once the vampire leader met with him. Darius was sure the leader would see it as some form of trap. Only a fool would see it otherwise and Theron was no fool.
Theron had catapulted himself to the ruling position of the vampires by eliminating the vampire elders, vampires who had lived almost as long as Darius. But vampire power wasn't like mage power. Theron, a vampire half Darius's age, held more influence and strength than all the vampire elders put together. It had been inevitable that Theron would one day find the motivation to stand up and claim his rightful place. That motivation came in the form of a threat to his wife.
Darius sympathized. He too would kill anyone who dared to harm Medusa. She would laugh in his face if she heard his threat. Medusa could take care of herself and had proven it many times over. She was a warrior, formerly under Theron's command. Anyone who dared to stand up to her would find themselves under the assault of twenty metal-link-covered whips, which Medusa wielded with deadly precision.
His beautiful warrior was restless and ready to be out in the world once more. Their circumstances had led them both to live lives of seclusion. Not only was the mage king married to a vampire -- something his followers would see as the ultimate betrayal -- but he and his wife were an anomaly. They were both born in the eighteen hundreds, but a spell had thrown them back in time. In order not to accidentally meet up with their younger selves or anyone who knew those younger selves, Darius and Medusa had opted to stay hidden.
Darius could just imagine the surprised expressions of those who knew him from the mage academy when they beheld him sitting on the throne of the king. In the days of the academy, Darius had dreamed of reaching the proficiency level of the mage king.
Now he had to use that power so he and his wife could finally have a decent honeymoon. He planned to take her on a global tour and make love to her on top of every single wonder and monument in existence. And the best part about the trip would be the absence of Benji, Medusa's pet bear. She treated the creature like a cross between a pet and child, babying and spoiling him. He was a monumental pain in the ass. Darius and the bear had a centuries-long feud going over Medusa's affections, and Darius had won this round since the honeymoon would be blissfully bear-free.
Darius had spent long nights devising a special binding spell for their trip to the Eiffel Tower. The spell had to be perfect and impossible for his wife to break. Since she was almost on par with his magical ability, that was a tall order, but he had managed it.
He could see it now. Her long, lithe body bound magically to the steel beams directly below the observation deck. A location that would allow them to be heard but not seen, at least not by anyone on the tower. And Darius had no plans to muffle their voices with magic.
The night lights would cast shadows over Medusa's dark brown skin and twinkle in the slick liquid of pleasure and anticipation that would trail from her body to drip to the beams below. It wouldn't touch her soft thighs. No. Darius planned to have her thighs open to him, her knees level with her slender waist, and spread so he could watch her hole wink at him.
Medusa's anger at being trussed up with her hands over her head would have her small, pert breasts jiggling with her rapid breathing. Her threats to make him pay would fall on deaf ears as Darius tried to decide if he wanted to taste her nipples or her pussy first.
Of course, her nipples would receive his attention first. Using a trick he had perfected over the centuries, he would take one of her nipples into his mouth and tease it with his tongue while using his magic to mirror the sensations on her other nipple. Medusa's words would become jumbled as she fought to continue coherent speech through her growing passion. A battle Darius knew she would lose.
The same way she would lose her will to deny him when he passed his fingers over her clit. She would cry out long and loud, probably startling the people walking around above them. But she wouldn't climax from such a simple touch. No, her vocalization would be from the pleasure of Darius finally touching her where she truly wanted to feel him...