by Peyton Banks
She held her breath, suddenly very much afraid he would reject her offer. Good thing that hadn’t occurred to her until now or she’d never have asked.
“Only every single time we are together.”
She blinked rapidly, her gaze flying up to lock with his. His dark eyes were dilated, and his nose flared. She could see the tips of his canines sticking out between his lips.
Well, that escalated quickly.
“Really? Are you serious?” Why the hell was she questioning this right now? Why was she not jumping the guy’s bones? One bone in particular, which she could see outlined behind his zipper.
He lifted one hand and cupped her cheek, stroking lightly with this thumb. “Kiara, I’ve wanted so much more from you for a very long time now. But I swore to myself I would not initiate anything. If you are saying what I think you are, however, I am going to pick you up and toss you onto that bed and make love to you properly. The way I’ve wanted to for far too long.”
Her breath caught on a gasp. “Will-will you drink from me?”
“Only if you want me to.”
“Oh…my.”
They stayed like that for a long moment, Amare steadily stroking her cheek while staring into her eyes.
She twined her arms around his neck, her gaze never leaving his. “Take me to bed.”
He wrapped one arm around her back and swept her off her feet with the other, carrying her the short distance to the bed, where he gently lay her on the plush, down comforter with her legs hanging over the side.
“Is this what you sleep in normally?” he asked, fingering the edge of her tiny shorts.
She shook her head. “I normally sleep in the nude.”
He snagged the waistband and tugged the shorts down her legs, baring her to him, since she hadn’t bothered to throw on a pair of panties. “Me too,” he said, drinking her in.
“We’re quite the pair.” Her laugh was shaky.
“We are indeed.”
He placed his hands on her waist and then smoothed them up her sides, taking her shirt with him, pushing it up and over her breasts, making them jiggle as he exposed them.
And then he stared, not at her boobs, but into her eyes. For a moment, she forgot how to breathe. They’d had sex nearly weekly for five years now, and yet, this moment was so unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Not with him. Hell, not with anyone.
For far too long, sex had been a means to an end—a pleasurable end, certainly, but there had always been a purpose, and it wasn’t to simply enjoy being with another person. To touch them and taste them and appreciate the moment for what it should be: two individuals coming together as one. A couple.
“I have a particular fondness for your breasts,” he murmured, finally breaking eye contact to cup them and then kiss the top of each one in turn. “Actually, I’m quite fond of everything about you, Kiara.”
This man. He sounded so sincere. She wanted to believe he felt for her what she felt for him, but that would complicate things whether she continued on as a blood donor or left the profession.
Stop thinking about it and just feel, Kiara.
He tugged her shirt over her head and tossed it over his shoulder, and she lay there, entirely exposed, and yet she did not feel vulnerable. In fact, she felt cherished. And a great deal of anticipation. As if this was the first time they’d ever had sex, and she could not wait to find out what it was going to be like.
She wiggled her hips, drawing his attention. He dragged his gaze back up to her face, placed his hands on either side of her shoulders, and lowered himself as if he were doing a pushup, until his lips brushed against hers, achingly gently. Reverently. Almost hesitantly. She tentatively touched one of his fangs with her tongue.
He groaned and opened his mouth, his tongue sweeping out and tangling with her own. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he broke the kiss and pulled away, smiling down at her.
“It would be so easy to thrust into you right now. But I want to worship you for a bit first.”
She gasped.
He chuckled, pressed his lips to hers once more, and began peppering kisses down the column of her throat, across her chest, lower until he paused to suckle at each of her breasts. She grasped his head, holding him there because, oh Lord, was he ever an expert with his tongue.
He laughed again, the sensation vibrating against her nipple, and then pulled free of her hands.
"You are a goddess, Kiara. I do not think I could ever get enough of you.”
She squeezed her eyes shut as he chased one kiss after the other, over her abdomen and down to her hip, nibbling his way across her pelvis until she was arching, desperate for him to move a fraction lower.
“Amare,” she cried out. “Please.”
He paused, and she opened her eyes. He watched her face while his finger traced a pattern over her pelvic bone and then finally, finally, dipped into her folds.
“Damnation,” he murmured. “You’re so wet. Is this for me?”
“Because.” She nodded vigorously. “Of you.”
“Mm-mm. I like how it feels. I think I want a taste.”
She squeezed her eyes shut again and threw back her head. “Yes. Please. Taste. Now.”
This chuckle vibrated against the lower half of her body, and she was so close, she was half-surprised that alone did not send her over the edge.
But she was thankful it did not, especially when he touched her clit with his tongue, just the tiniest brush at first.
And then his hands were on her thighs, pushing them apart, holding her there, her ass half hanging off the bed, while he knelt next to it and buried his face against her core.
They’d done this a thousand times, of course, and yet, it was different tonight. It wasn’t his technique—the man was the expert of experts when it came to oral pleasure—it was something else. Maybe it was all in her head, but she didn’t think so. This was not simply meant to make them both feel good on a physical level.
This was emotional. Real.
The most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced roared through her, taking her so high she was suspended in the clouds, until she slowly drifted back to earth.
When she blinked her eyes open, Amare was hovering over her, watching her face, a hell of a pleased grin curving those oh-so-talented lips.
She pressed a finger against them, and he playfully licked her, making her giggle.
“So far, so good?” he asked, sounding as if he held a trace of concern that he might have let her down.
She shivered. “So much better than.”
“Excellent.” He stood up and tugged off his shirt before unlatching his pants, pushing them and his boxers to the floor. His cock, darker than the rest of him and impressive in both girth and length, bounced against his abdomen, clearly as eager as she was for it to be inside her.
“Come here,” he said, and he placed his hand on her hip. She grasped his wrist to stop him.
“No. Me first.”
“Uh, we already did you fi…”
She slid off the side of the bed to her knees and placed her hands on his rock-hard thighs, looking up at him and batting her eyelashes while licking her lips.
“Oh,” he said weakly, and she felt a tremor quake through his body.
This was another aspect of their relationship that was different tonight. He would not be offering payment at the end. She did not have to give him blood if she didn’t want to. And, the best part of all: she would get to sleep with him when they were done. As turned on as she was at the moment, that was, truthfully, the aspect she was looking forward to the most.
Okay, maybe not the most. But it was up there.
She carefully scraped her nails along the underside of his balls, and he hissed out a breath, so she did it again. And again.
She loved pleasuring him, making him feel good, leaving him sated. Tonight, however, she wanted him to understand that while she could not give him forever, she wished she could.
Wrapping her other hand around the root of his cock, she stroked all the way up to the head, catching the drop of pre-cum and smoothing it back down again. His hands rested on her shoulders, kneading gently.
She heard him swallow and then clear his throat. When he spoke, his voice was rough, like sandpaper. “Don’t go all the way, okay? I want to be inside you when I come.”
She blinked rapidly and nodded. “Just a little taste,” she whispered. She held him still, opened her mouth, and slid her lips down the length of him, as far as she could go.
His breath stuttered as his hands moved from her shoulders to the back of her head, his fingers threading through her braids. She paused and he exerted gentle pressure. She let him guide her motions, as if this were a slow dance and they were a couple and nothing could ever tear them apart.
Suddenly, he pushed her away, and she released him with a pop.
“Can’t take anymore,” he rasped, pulling her to her feet and crashing his lips against hers as his arms tightened like bands around her torso. One of his fangs nicked her lip, drawing blood; he touched his tongue to the wound, and, suddenly, she craved the sensation of his fangs piercing her skin like she never had since the very first moment she’d ever allowed a vampire to touch her.
She pulled away to look into his eyes, and cupped his face. “You were my first,” she whispered, holding his gaze so he could see the significance of that statement in her eyes. “The first time I ever let a vampire touch me. It was you.”
His eyes widened and his mouth fell open, exposing his now fully extended fangs. “I didn’t know.”
She smiled. “I didn’t want you to know at the time. But now…I do.”
He kissed her, tenderly. “Thank you.”
He clasped his hands around her thighs, lifting them, and she twined her legs around his waist as he shifted his grasp until he was squeezing her ass. And then he gently lay her on her back, coming with her, until he covered her with his body. Staring into her eyes, he filled her with one hard thrust and stayed like that, their gazes still locked, as her heart rate began to gallop and her breathing became erratic.
“Bite me,” she whispered. “Make love to me and drink from me. Please, Amare.”
He brushed her braids away from her shoulder, opened his mouth, and sank his fangs into her neck as he pressed into her, over and over, relentless, until her nails scored down his back and her inner muscles squeezed around him as her orgasm swamped her. He extracted his fangs and grunted, pumped three more times. His body went rigid as he found his own release before rolling onto his back, taking her with him, so that she lay splayed across his body.
If she could, she was stay like this forever. With Amare.
With a sigh, she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his chest and almost instantly drifted off to sleep.
6
A couple of hours before sunset, Amare woke alone. He stretched his arm across the rumpled sheets where he assumed Kiara had slept next to him throughout the day. Or maybe she’d stayed sprawled across his body while she slept. He wasn’t sure, since as soon as the sun peeked over the horizon, he’d fallen into the deepest, most restful sleep he’d had since he became a vampire.
Did last night mean what he hoped it meant? That Kiara wanted a relationship, too? One that wasn’t business-related but was personal. Real.
He hoped so, because after last night, he did not ever want to go back to being one of her clients. In fact, he didn’t want her to have any clients. He wanted to keep her all to himself, forever. Or at least as long as she lived if she did not have any interest in becoming vampire.
He’d never considered turning someone before.
When it happened to him, he’d asked for it. His entire family had been wiped out by war and famine, and he’d been miserable, terribly lonely.
Back then, vampires did not freely walk among humans; they still stole blood in the dead of the night from unwilling or unwitting victims. He and his maker had been friends for a long time before Renaldo confessed that he was vampire. Renaldo had not taken his blood because Amare reminded him of his son, whom he missed terribly. So Amare asked him to turn him. He had no reason to remain human, and this way, they would be companions for all of eternity.
That had lasted for about a hundred years, until Renaldo met another vampire and fell deeply in love. They currently lived in Paris, although he and Amare still visited several times a year.
Maybe the next time he took a trip to visit his maker, he’d take Kiara with him. Renaldo and Wanda would adore her; he was sure of it.
First, though, he should get out of bed and find Kiara, make sure they were on the same page. Maybe lure her back to the sheets for another few hours of intense, mutual pleasure.
The suite was empty. Kiara, Penelope, and Pete were all gone. Presumably, that meant Penelope had recovered from her injuries.
The Mallard brothers had run off before he and Pete found Penelope last night, and it had been so close to dawn that Amare had decided to put off tracking them down until this evening.
Given they were still out there and obviously more dangerous than Amare initially thought, he hoped Kiara, Penelope, and Pete were smart enough to stay on property.
After showering and dressing in a pair of khaki slacks and a loose-fitting, short-sleeved, button-down shirt, he headed downstairs to the lobby. The skylights and windows would all be covered; so long as he stayed within the confines of the lodge, he was perfectly safe.
What he couldn’t do was go outside and enjoy the pool area, which, he discovered, was where Kiara and her two new friends had disappeared to. He could still see through the glass opening in the door, so he stood there, out of the sun’s reach, hands in pockets, soaking in the vision of the woman he was certain he was falling in love with as she laughed and played and enjoyed the sunshine.
As it turned out, she was a bikini girl. And did she ever look spectacular in that hot pink two-piece. He could not wait until the sun went down so he could go out there with her, put his hands on her skin, flirt with her, tease her. Would it be horribly rude of him if he kicked out all the other guests so the two of them could have the pool to themselves for an hour or so?
He shook his head. He definitely had it bad. A small part of him worried that she did not reciprocate his feelings, despite the intensity of their lovemaking, but he dismissed that concern. She felt something for him, he knew that much, and whatever it was, it could grow into love, with time.
Pete must have realized that he was watching them, because he made a motion at Kiara and pointed at the door. She turned to look, a smile spreading across her face. Amare lifted his hand to wave.
But Pete wrapped his arm around her shoulders from behind, and the look on her face shifted to confused, which shifted to pain as he bent his head and clamped his teeth onto her shoulder, twisting to the side and taking a chunk of skin and sinew with him.
“No!” Amare shouted, running toward the door.
That had been a mistake. One she would certainly love to repeat, but a mistake nonetheless.
I shouldn’t have slept with him.
Kiara had known what would happen, and here she was. Now, she not only could not imagine having sex with anyone other than Amare, but she couldn’t go back to her job either. Because returning to work meant giving her blood and body to someone else.
She hadn’t anticipated quitting quite so quickly. She figured she’d have time to work out a new path in life. Maybe go to school or pick up a trade—a different trade.
What the hell was she supposed to do with her life if she quit being a vampire call girl the moment she returned from this vacation? She’d socked away a decent amount of money, but she paid all her mother’s bills—although the woman didn’t know it was her—and eventually, she’d need another form of income.
But what? She had no other skills. Unlike her sister, she hadn’t gone to college. She’d been too busy selling her blood to vampires to pay for Aliyah to graduate so that
she could have the life she’d always wanted, since Mom’s health issues didn’t allow her to work and their father hadn’t been in the picture since Aliyah was a baby.
Kiara needed to have a chat with her sister, let her know who was really keeping a roof over Mom’s head, and ask for her help. The reality was, whatever Kiara ended up doing once she quit selling her blood, no way in hell it would be as lucrative as this career had been. Not with her lack of anything at all to put on a résumé.
“Oh, look,” Pete said, pointing over her shoulder. “It’s your vampire.”
“Really?” She turned and squinted, and sure enough, there was Amare, standing out of reach of the sun’s rays, watching them from inside the darkened lobby. She smiled and waved.
Something came around her from behind. An arm? It wrapped around her upper body, pulling her back against something. Someone. “Pete?”
She tried to turn her head to look at him. What the heck he was doing? Suddenly, there was a searing pain in her shoulder. She screamed, and he released her. She fell forward onto her hands and knees. Her right arm buckled; she collapsed onto her elbow. Looking down, she watched something red and thick and coppery smelling pour down her arm and pool on the stone tiles underneath her.
Was that blood?
Her brain was fuzzy. She shook her head, trying to clear it. And then the smell of charred flesh assaulted her nose a moment before she was grabbed again. She tried to fend him off, but she was so weak, so very weak, and she couldn’t do anything except let Pete drag her across the slightly rough stone tiles and into the lodge.
It was much noisier in here. People were shouting, someone screamed, someone else barked orders like a drill sergeant.
Another body collapsed next to her, and she forced her head to turn toward it.
“Amare?”
He lay on his back with his eyes closed. His skin was all puckered and black and flaky, and tiny plumes of smoke swirled upward from several places.
“What the hell?”
