Her witch’s brew contained troubling magic…
Her witch’s brew contained troubling magic…
She reached for him, but he stopped her. His big hands locked around her fragile wrists.
“Slowly,” he said.
“I can’t wait. I need you now.”
“And so you shall have me. Calm yourself. I know the rage is upon you. You’ll enjoy it so much more if you relax.”
“Enjoy it? You’ve got to be kidding.”
He tilted his head as he looked at her. “You’ve never enjoyed the mating?”
“Not that I can remember. Now stop talking and fuck me. Or I’ll find someone else who will.” She reached for his cock and again he pushed away her hands.
He leaned toward her, and his lips brushed against hers.
“Open your mouth,” he whispered.
If she wanted to ease the pain, she was going to have to do what he asked. She couldn’t bear the cramping of her womb any longer. The medicine the doctors gave her never helped. There was only one way to ease the ache.
She opened her mouth. He licked across her lips, then buried his tongue inside. She sucked for all she was worth. The clench of her womb increased as though to say, “Yes, this is the one. I want him.”
And so you shall have him, bane of my existence. As soon as he allows me to have him.
He withdrew his tongue, then began to lick along her jaw, circling over her chin. Tilting her head slightly, he tracked down her throat. Then he unbuttoned her shirt, peeling it back to expose her breasts. The cool night air brushed across her skin, heightening her awareness. She shivered from the exquisite contact.
The cramping continued, but something else curled inside her. A heat that spiraled through her. A wetness that pooled between her thighs. Wetter than she’d ever been before.
A sound somewhere between a purr and a moan escaped from her. He lifted his head and looked at her. Then she gasped as he spun her around and pulled her even deeper into the alleyway. Not a sound but their heavy breathing. The long, drawn-out yowl of a cat suddenly echoed through the deserted passage. She stiffened, but then the stranger captured her attention once more and she forgot about anything else.
His kisses drugged her as he claimed her lips, then dipped lower and sucked a nipple deep into his mouth.
A tight arrow of ache and ecstasy shot through her, from her breasts to her cunt. Oh, God, it felt so good. Too good. Her womb clenched tighter, and her pussy dripped more cream onto her thighs. One of his hands gripped her calf and lifted her leg. He yanked off her boot and she heard the thump as it landed on the pavement.
She didn’t care. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted any man before. However he wanted to do it, she was more than willing. There was a difference. Yes, she had needed the sex before. But on this night she wanted it. And that was unusual. He shoved her pants down her legs, all the way, then yanked one leg of her jeans complete off, freeing one of her limbs.
He raised the bare leg, anchored it against his powerful thigh, opened her wide, then shoved his cock into her wet pussy. He lifted her with huge muscled arms, and she wrapped her free leg around his waist. His mouth found hers once more, fusing them together. Not a space for breath, from willing mouth to wet cunt, locked lips to rigid cock, and she felt him so deeply the world rocked, splintered and fell away.
He forced her to remain still, just holding her close, her pussy wrapped tightly around his cock, lips wide, hairs tickling. Sanity shifted.
“I have come for you and you alone, woman,” he said.
“W-who are you?” His cock nudged deeper and she whimpered as the tip brushed against the opening of her cervix.
“I am Quintus, the Roman. Servant of your father.”
Her eyes widened. “My father!”
And then he began to move inside her and she thought she would die from the pleasure. Slow surges, in and out as he ground against her. Her back wedged against the brick wall, he drove his cock into her channel. The first climax shattered her.
Greedy undertaker, hungry for her death…
Hunger calls the undead to awaken…
Beware the trickster; temptations dangerously alluring…
Temptation beckons with wickedly irresistible treats…
“Why?” he asked Skye, pointing to the blood and hair-encrusted axe.
Skye shrugged. “It seemed the thing to do at the time.”
“Do you know what they are? What they were?”
This time when Skye looked at Donte’, the vampire captain saw confusion swirling within the blueness of his pupils. “No. I-I thought–”
Ah, revelation swept through Donte’. “The axe was for me, wasn’t it?”
Skye looked him square in the eye. “I thought you meant to kill all those people. You’re a vampire, what else was I supposed to think?”
“My reputation. They all think the vampires of Noctra sail the seas in search of victims to gorge our thirst. Isn’t that right?” Skye’s hands tightened around the axe handle.
“What else are we supposed to think? Vampires trail a heavy reputation of killing in order to appease their hunger.”
Donte’ started at him for a long time. His instincts told him Skye had been sent here to kill him. So why did he hesitate to have done with Templeton right this minute?
He nodded to the axe. “Well, here you are. And here I am. So why don’t you finish the deed you’ve come here to do?”
“How do you know I was sent to kill you?”
Donte’ shrugged. “You wouldn’t be the first.”
“What happened to the others?”
Donte’ looked back across to the other ship. “A few are now part of my crew. The others,” he looked down at the water. “A few have found everlasting peace or hell, depending on your perspective.”
“You’re a vampire. You have everlasting life.”
Donte’ watched as Skye swung the axe from his shoulder and dropped it to the deck. Donte’ looked down at the discarded weapon and almost felt a twinge of regret. What he wouldn’t give to have all of this done and over with. There was so little he found pleasure in any more. So many lovers dead, so many of his crew sacrificed. He felt the first heat of dawn’s fingers against his neck. All he had to do was remain on deck and it would be over with once and for all. He looked at Skye.
“You could have killed me tonight. My focus was on the undead on the ship. My men might have thought it an accident in the surge of bloodlust and they would have let you go.”
“Yes. That’s true.”
“So, why didn’t you?” He was curious to know the young man’s answer. There was something that intrigued him about Skye Templeton. This was a strong, intelligent man, rather unlike the rest of his crew. Most of them had spent their lives following the orders of others. But not this one. He definitely felt a strong attraction for the man–and it was more than his blood. Yet, his attention was drawn to the purple vein pulsing in Skye’s neck.
“I won’t become part of your food stores, Captain.”
Donte’s attention refocused on Skye’s face. “Do you think I need another?” He swept an arm in a semi-circle. “I have a crew of men more than eager to quench my thirst. Willingly. Do you think I need you?”
There was something indefinable in Skye’s expression. Donte’s attention turned to his mouth. Templeton meant to hold himself apart from the rest of his crew. But there was an element of desire and yet defiance in the way he held himself. A flagrant challenge to the vampire captain to force the young man’s submission. “You will yield to me. Eventually.”
Those beautiful lips curved into a smile. A tongue slipped out to wet the elegant fullness. Suddenly, Donte’ swooped forward and possessed them, curling a hand tightly into the long blond locks. Taking what he wanted, tasting the sweetness of strong defiance in the young merchant’s kiss.
Skye pressed forward, off-balancing the vampire, pressing advantage, forcing Donte’ against the rail, as he took control of the passionate kiss. He thrust his tongue between Donte’s lips; his determined hands cupped the vampire’s cheeks, facing down the danger of such a predatory master.
If Donte had a heart that beat, it would have drum rolled a fast and furious pace as desire roared for Skye Templeton. He pulled free from Skye’s lips and stumbled away. He put the weakness that consumed him down to weariness from the night’s battle.
Donte slid his tongue over his lower, engorged lip and felt a trickle of blood and wiped it away.
“You challenge what you have no understanding of,” he said. He fought the desire to have this human in his bed right this minute. Bound to it, supping from him at his leisure. Or hanging on his wall, the bite of metal binding him in Donte’s presence. There was something in Skye Templeton, something so different and so desirable. So forbidden.
“I’ll give you what you need, my captain, all in good time.”