Craved

Damon:

Any moment now, Renee would break through the surface, but she didn't. Either she was an exceptional swimmer, or she was in trouble. Panic surged through Damon, replacing his annoyance. He dove in after her. The murky river impeded his vision, but the thrashing ahead must be her. In the dark, he reached out and fumbled for her. Her aura flickered under the water, and he grabbed her wrists, then kicked his legs bringing both of them to the surface. Sputtering and gasping, she clung to him as though the river pitched like raging rapids. Her dark hair hung like a wet curtain over her face. Yet, she felt right in his arms. Peace, like the missing piece of a puzzle he didn't know he needed, covered him. Then his gift surged demanding he taste her essence.

No! He pushed her away, but she wrapped herself around him like a snake. Arms squeezed his neck; legs clutched his thighs. He choked, and his hunger abated along with his lack of oxygen. "Y-you're cutting off my air supply." "What? Sorry." She relaxed her arms but held him in a vice grip. "I-I didn't know the river was s-so deep. Looked pretty shallow from where I stood." Her honey brown eyes widened as she glanced from the water to him and back to shore. "Can't you swim?"

Renee tensed.

"Why would you plunge into deep water knowing you can't swim?" Did she forget her legs were still wound around his waist? She trembled, but he had a hard time restraining his hands from continuing to cupping her ass, which fit nicely in his palms. No, too dangerous to have those kinds of thoughts. He moved his hands to her hips.

Her eyes stole his breath, and a faint blush colored her cheeks. "I slipped. There's a sharp drop off, and I didn't know it until I fell."

"Well, it's not advisable to come to the river alone." He shook his head and clicked his tongue. "But if you ask, I can teach you how to swim or at least do the doggy-paddle that way you won't drown if you ever fall in again." And he'd teach her anything else she desired.

"No thank you!" She slackened her hold, but then she must have thought better and reattached herself to him. "Please take me back to the shore."

As best he could with her weight, he treaded water to keep them afloat and drifted closer to shallow water. The strain sapped even his incubi strength and endurance quickly. Visions of her drowning pranced through his mind. As he neared the shore, rocky pebbles pierced his feet.

Movies painted the wrong picture of people drowning. No one flapped their arms and called for help. Instinct made drowning victims' bodily functions go to survival mode, and yelling for help, ironically, wouldn't be possible.

"Can you float?" He rubbed a hand, and a trace of his power, along her back to soothe her. "I'll hel="

"Take me back." Her lips turned white as she pursed them.

Due to his incubus abilities, women would kill each other to be in his arms, and yet she seemed to have the opposite reaction. Well, except earlier when he offered his hand to draw her out into the river. He pushed a bit more to convince her to accept. "I'd hate for you to drown because you refused a few minutes of a lesson before breakfast."

"Take me back, please," she said while her chin trembled, her gaze wide and flickering around them. "I'm not ready yet, please."

"I understand. Sorry, I didn't know you couldn't swim, or I never would've brought you out this far."

She had every right to be upset at him. But what if the river had a sharp drop off when she was alone and fell? They wouldn't know what happened until they searched for her. She'd be dead. No matter how painful, sometimes lessons were necessary. He'd rather her be furious with him and able to swim than drown. He ignored her protests and continued his attempt to give her instructions. "First lesson, let the water carry you. If you relax, your body will float." "How about you relax, and I use you as a floatation device to get the hell out of here?" Her chin lifted.

"Tempting. Now flip over on your back, and I'll support you." Why had the woman never learned to swim? It intrigued him, but the way she scowled at him said she was not amused nor would she listen to anything he said. "Alright. Since you won't cooperate, promise me two things and I'll take you to shore."

"What? Tell me first."

Smart. "First, you will not come here again alone." He held up a finger when she opened her mouth to say something. "You must be accompanied by someone who can swim. Second, you'll take swim lessons when you get back to the States," when her eyes narrowed suspiciously, he softened his tone, "even if it isn't from me."

Her lips parted, her tongue moistening them, and his nature roared in his ears to take her. Clenching his fist, he used all his strength to wait for her nod and carry her back to the rocky coast rather than devour her mouth with his. After he set her on the rocks, she scrambled away from the water's edge.

"Don't forget your promise," he couldn't help but tease. Any more staring at the blush on her cheeks and chest and he'd forget his vow and claim her. The sight of her erect nipples straining against her wet lace bra made him dig his nails into his palms. She huffed and snatched up her towel. Thankfully, it reached just below her butt, leaving her long legs exposed for his admiration. Then she batted her eyelashes at him. "I would never give you the satisfaction." "Of which?" He beamed. "Drowning or bathing?"

"Both." She inserted the corner of the towel between her breasts, locking the rest of it around her, and then grabbed her canteen. "Uh, thank you for saving me." She shivered, and he doubted it was merely from the dunk in the water. "Please don't tell the others; it's embarrassing."

After his nod, she breathed out a sigh. She looked as if she anticipated that he would haul her back into the water for a lesson. Her movements reminded him of abused animals. He speculated that most people, who couldn't swim but who may have grown up around water, would try to learn unless they experienced a trauma or drowning in the past. Could that have happened to her? There was more to this situation than her usual stubbornness. Vulnerability even. As she leaned over to finish filling her canteen, her ample bosom peeked out. His lust twisted at the thought of the sounds she would make when he kissed her nipples until they pebbled.

Suddenly, she jerked up, spilling some of the water. "Did you get a good enough view?"

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Without waiting for his reply, she stormed away.

Damon flopped backward, letting his body float. His mind drifted to images of making love to Renee in the river. After he helped her overcome her phobia, somehow. Hmm, he could kiss her down there while she treaded water. Nah, she'd never go for it.

This is a business trip. No time for sleeping with the staff, no matter how sexy they are when arguing with him.

***

After he bathed in the river, he scaled out onto the rocks, then lay letting the sun dry him. The edge of the small rocky cliff covered with sparse grass and olive trees resembled another world compared to the skyscrapers of the cities. Though he loved the women of this age with their fierceness and intelligence, like Renee, he missed the clean, simple living of ancient times. Back then, everything had its purpose from food to clothing-not like today's wastefulness. From a mile away, the scent of bacon and toast carried on the breeze. Soon he would have to dress and become his archeological persona. Not that he didn't like it he did. History and what today's people made of ancients and their way of life because he lived so much of it-fascinated him.

As for Renee, she possessed a quick mind beyond book-smarts. Her instinct and the ideas contained in her online research papers made him wonder if she had been reincarnated multiple times to have her grasp on past civilizations. How would she react if she knew he was an incubus? Would she believe all the tall-tales and half-truth legends? Of incubus and succubus as sex demons coming to humans during their dreams? Those stories were exaggerated. Yes, he could influence his lovers' dreams to a point. The pleasant side of his nature. For him, it was consensual; he could not randomly burst into someone's bedroom and grapple their dream away to feed.

If he were next to a room with a couple making love, he could feed off their sexual energy. In return, his gift usually heightened the woman's orgasm and provided a prolonged erection for the man. How many times had couples whispered afterward about their lovemaking being the best sex ever?

On the unpleasant side, malevolence reigned if a crystal was not found by an incubus or succubus' fifth millennia. They grew mad and shifted their cravings from sex and passion to war and violence until finally becoming a true demon. He needed a special crystal, but hundreds of his kind were seeking one as well.

Still, part of him hated it.

One year after Belinda died, he traveled from hotel to hotel until on the brink of starvation, he dreamed sexual energy had seeped up from a couple and nourished him. By the time he woke and realized what he'd done, the deed was finished, and the couple was in a coma.

Afterward, he stalked only married couples and for only brief periods of time. No sense giving an adulterous affair more fuel. Long ago, he discovered if he made love to women he didn't have feelings for, he could give them the best sex of their lives, reap a little of their joined sexual energy, and not harm them. The trick was to break his connection before he became too attached. Even then, it was risky and not enough to sustain him. Lately, he had to seduce women more often. Only a matter of time before his measly feedings wouldn't take the edge off his hunger.

Renee had crept under his defenses, and he'd been around her less than forty-eight hours. Time to push her back into the category of a colleague and nothing more.