by I. T. Lucas
Wendy didn’t move a muscle when he cleaned her up, not even when he rolled her from side to side so he could remove the soiled bedsheet and put on a new one.
With that done, he got back in bed, gathered Wendy into his arms, and covered them both with a blanket.
It felt heavenly to hold her close, skin to skin with nothing between them, and when she sighed contentedly and cuddled into his chest, Vlad offered the Fates a prayer of thanks.
Who knew that their rocky beginning would bring them to this moment?
So much had happened that could have derailed their relationship, but against all odds, they had persevered.
Perhaps the Fates wanted to teach them both a lesson. Or several of them.
The first one was that everything worth having was also worth fighting for. The second one was that holding on to grudges and wallowing in self-pity helped no one, and that forgiveness, although difficult to achieve, was always a better choice.
Was there a third?
Yeah, and maybe that was the most important one.
Relationships were difficult because everyone carried around baggage of some sort that had to be addressed first, either accepted, solved, or rejected. For a relationship to work, issues had to be brought into the open and shared. Hiding, pretending, and masking could work for a short while, but in the end, they had the potential to poison even the best of things.
Also, in the long run, it was better to roll with the punches than give up and walk away at the first sign of trouble or the first fight.
He was well aware that not every relationship was worth saving, some were doomed, but in his opinion, people tended to give up too soon.
Vlad was so thankful to Vanessa for convincing him to give Wendy a second chance. Without her intervention, he would still be sulking alone in his room instead of holding in his arms the love of his life.
58
Wendy
Wendy didn’t want to wake up. She didn’t want the dream to end. But as the cobwebs of sleep slowly parted, she became aware of the warm chest she was pressed against and the male scent she’d grown to associate with safety and love.
“Vlad.” She pressed a soft kiss to his smooth pectoral. “I was dreaming.”
“Was it a good dream?” he murmured sleepily.
“The best. But I don’t know which part was a dream and which was real. Did you bite me?”
“I did.”
She opened her eyes and looked up at his handsome face. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”
He caressed her back, his hand drawing slow downward circles. “It was the first time I’ve bitten anyone. It was like climaxing for the first time.”
She giggled. “That’s all? I think that’s unfair. I had multiple orgasms, flew away on a euphoric cloud, and visited alien cities on alien planets. Your venom is the best drug out there. It’s good that humans don’t know that you exist. Your immortality is not the only thing they would hunt you down for.”
“There is no way to harvest the venom, so my captors would have been disappointed.”
“Well, you have only one captor, and she knows how to get it from the source.” She smoothed her hand over his chest and down his belly until she reached what she’d wanted to touch before and hadn’t gotten the chance.
Vlad hissed, and his fangs started elongating at an alarming rate.
He was so hard, and yet his skin felt velvety soft. Watching his face, she stroked him from tip to base and back up again. And as she ran her thumb over the mushroom head, she found a drop of pre-cum and spread it to lubricate her hand on the downward stroke.
Had he somehow managed not to ejaculate when he’d bitten her? The thought disturbed her. What if she hadn’t excited him as much as he’d excited her?
“Did you climax when I did?”
He nodded.
That was a relief.
The bed felt dry, though, so Vlad must have cleaned up. But how had he done it without waking her up?
Perhaps he was lying about climaxing to spare her feelings?
Nah, that was her paranoia talking. With his strength, Vlad could have lifted her with one arm, removed the soiled sheet with the other, and then spread a new one over the bed.
Her man had Herculean strength, and how sexy was that? He was also ready for another round, and that was sexy as well.
“You really recuperate fast. How long have I been asleep?”
“Three hours, maybe more.” He sounded strained. “Are you thirsty? We haven’t drunk the wine.”
“Now that you mention it, I am.” After such a long journey over the clouds, her breath probably wasn’t fresh, and the wine could help with that. Or make it worse. She wasn’t sure.
Vlad cleared his throat. “I can’t turn around as long as you have your hand on my handle.”
“Yes, you can.” She pushed him on his back and rolled on top of him. “Now you can reach.”
He lifted the bottle out of the ice bucket, pulled out the cork with his fingers, and handed it to her. “I can’t reach the glasses.”
“That’s fine. Lift the bottle to my lips.”
As he did, some of the wine spilled on his chest, which gave Wendy an idea. After taking a small sip from the bottle, she dipped her head and licked the small puddle off his skin. “It tastes better like this.”
His erection twitched in her hand. “You’re playing with fire.”
She lifted her head and smirked at him. “My Vlad the Impaler still has to do the impaling part.”
As he put the bottle back into the ice bucket, his eyes blazed, one green and one blue, and then in a move faster than humanly possible, he twisted them around, so she was under him.
Wendy spread her legs, cradling him between them, and as he aligned his shaft with her center, they both groaned.
Dipping his head, he kissed her softly, his tongue entering her mouth with one gentle sweep, but he didn’t make a move to even nudge her entrance.
Wendy arched up a little, pressing herself against the very tip, but instead of pushing in, Vlad moved back. “You’re not ready.”
Was he kidding?
What happened to his sense of smell?
“Says who?” She arched up again. “Try me.”
Reaching between them, he probed her entrance with his finger. “You’re wet, but I need to stretch you first.”
He’d already had two fingers inside her, and it hadn’t been uncomfortable. After all, she’d played with herself plenty of times, so it wasn’t as if she was really untouched.
“Then do it.”
She moaned as he pushed a finger inside her, and when he came back with another one, she spread her legs even wider. His long, strong fingers felt much better than her own ever had, but she was impatient for the real thing.
When he added a third finger, it became a little uncomfortable, but then he pressed his thumb to her clit and rubbed it gently. A new outpour of lubricant made it all good again.
“I’m ready, Vlad. Stop torturing yourself and fuck me already.”
59
Vlad
Wendy’s dirty talk slammed down hard on Vlad’s already fraying self-control, grinding it to dust.
His hips moved of their own accord, and his erection found her entrance like it was a heat-guided missile.
“Oh, God,” Wendy moaned as he breached her folds.
Even though she was impatient, he had to slow down and enter her gradually. Just like the rest of him, his shaft was very long, but it wasn’t overly thick. Still, the first time was the hardest, and the last thing he wanted was for Wendy to experience pain.
Except, his mate wasn’t the timid virgin who waited for her man. Crooking a leg around his hip, she braced her other foot on the bed for leverage and pushed up.
As half his shaft slid inside her with little effort, they both groaned. Vlad had felt no barrier, there had been no tearing, and given her lust-infused expression, Wendy hadn’t experienced any pain either.
&nb
sp; With eyes open wide, she gazed at him with need, love, and fearless determination. “You feel so good inside me.”
He wanted to say something to that effect, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “I love you.” And then he pushed the rest of the way in.
As he hit the end of Wendy’s channel, Vlad shuddered. Somehow, despite the difference in their heights, the fit was perfect, and he was all the way in.
“Are you okay?” he managed to murmur.
She nodded, and then a smile curved her lips. “The most delicious impaling imaginable.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down. “Kiss me, my mighty Vlad.”
He wanted to move so badly, but despite the brave face Wendy had put on for him, he detected a little discomfort and wanted to give her time to get accustomed to him.
Cupping her face, he kissed her softly, his tongue doing most of the work because his fangs were so long that it was difficult to press his lips to hers without hurting her.
When her body went slack under him, Vlad retreated and then pushed back slowly, watching Wendy’s face the entire time, and when she moaned her pleasure, he did it again.
With strokes that were deep but gentle, he concentrated on every nuance of the way she engulfed him, responded to him. When he learned the right angle to bring her the most pleasure, he used it to go a little faster.
“Yes,” she groaned. “Just like that.”
Thinking of ways to enhance Wendy’s pleasure, Vlad braced his weight on his elbow and knees and cupped her breast.
She gasped and dug her fingertips into his straining back muscles, spurring him on to go faster, harder.
Sliding his hand from her breast down to her side, he squeezed it under her butt cheek and pulled her up to meet his thrust.
With the new angle allowing him to go even deeper, Vlad’s thrusts turned more frantic, and Wendy’s moans turned hoarser.
This time when he felt his seed tunneling up his shaft, Vlad didn’t hold back. Sealing his lips over the spot he was about to bite, he licked it once, twice, and then bit down at the same moment his climax torpedoed out of him.
Wendy screamed, her body arching up violently as her own orgasm crashed through her, and then another one came crashing down, and another.
After the storm subsided and Wendy drifted off to her psychedelic dreamland, Vlad retracted his fangs and licked the puncture wounds closed.
With a contented sigh, he buried his nose in her hair and lay still, just breathing her in, luxuriating in the feeling of joining.
The two had become one, and it was magical.
“I love you,” he murmured into her hair. “Thank you for giving yourself to me. I know that you can’t hear me, but I need to say this. I am forever yours.”
60
Roberts
Doctor Roberts entered his friend’s old office and sat behind the desk.
How many times had he sat on the other side of it?
How many plots had they conceived together since their Harvard years?
Damn. He missed the crazy old philanderer. In their younger years, Roberts hadn’t been any better, but he’d been sensible enough to abandon the skirt chasing when he’d become too old. Besides, times had changed, and the atmosphere had become inhospitable for office flirtations and the like.
Simmons, on the other hand, hadn’t known when to stop, and he’d paid the ultimate price for perpetuating his favorite hobby. If not for the underage prostitute he’d unknowingly engaged with, they would have never gone to California, would have never committed murder, and Simmons would have never gotten into the fatal car accident that Roberts had miraculously survived.
The details of what exactly had happened were fuzzy. Roberts remembered the general flow of events, but not the details, which was odd. Memory loss just didn’t work this way, not even after head trauma.
Perhaps he should see a neurologist.
Except, he preferred to put the entire episode behind him and pretend that it had never happened. He had done some shady things in his life, but he had never committed murder before. The prostitute and her pimp had been lowlifes, and the world was probably better off without them, but their deaths still haunted him.
He tried to convince himself that it had been Simmons’s doing, not his, and Simmons had paid the ultimate price for his crime, but Roberts had been an accomplice. Not only had he supplied Simmons with the long-range acoustic device, he’d gone with him to meet the prostitute, knowing what his friend had intended to do with it.
They’d covered their tracks well, and the only loose end was the guy who’d loaned him the device. The cover story was that they’d gone looking for the missing trainees and wanted to use the device to capture them, but it wasn’t foolproof. Someone might connect the mysterious deaths of the prostitute and her pimp to the device.
He’d searched the internet for mention of the deaths but had found nothing that was accessible to the general public. There had been no news story about the deaths, and for a few happy moments, he had hoped that he’d dreamt up the entire episode, which would have explained the hazy memories.
Except, his high security clearance allowed him access to police reports, and there had been one about the two unexplained deaths. Thankfully, since no injuries were detected other than ear damage, no foul play was suspected, and the case had been closed.
With a sigh, Roberts pulled out a yellow pad and a pen from his friend’s old desk drawer. Correction. It was his office now. He’d been promoted by the higher-ups to head the paranormal talent division, and if he didn’t screw up too badly, the position was his to keep.
He wasn’t as gutsy as Simmons, and the shady practices they’d employed since the start of the program had to go. From now on, everything would be legit, or as legit as the higher-ups wanted it to be.
Using drugs to enhance paranormal performance had been approved, but not on the minors, so that would have to stop.
Also, the secret breeding program had to go because it wasn’t possible without Marisol’s help, and the woman had to go as well.
She had the power to compel him to do as she pleased, and without Simmons there, Roberts was defenseless against her.
The problem was that he needed her until he got his bearings in the new position. For the next two weeks or so, he was going to pretend to be her best buddy, so compelling him wouldn’t even cross her mind.
Once he no longer needed her, he would fire her via email and have her access to the facility revoked. Except, she could potentially compel the guards to let her in. He would have to devise a contingency plan in case that happened.
Under no circumstances could he allow her access to him.
First order of business, though, was adding new trigger words to the list. While convalescing after the accident, his brain had spat out a large number of them, and the sooner they were entered into the Echelon system, the better.
He also needed to hire new recruiters to replace Marisol, but that would have to wait until she was gone. He didn’t want her to get suspicious.
Frankly, the best thing would have been to eliminate her. But Roberts already had two murders on his conscience, and he didn’t want to add a third.
61
Wendy
The first thing Wendy wanted to do upon waking up was to lift the blanket and check the bedsheet for bloodstains.
After all the horror stories she’d heard about how awful the first time was, she’d expected it to be painful, at least until the venom bite took care of it, but there had been no pain, and no sensation of breaking through a barrier. There had been a slight burning feeling when her sheath stretched to accommodate Vlad’s impressive manhood, but it had lasted only a few seconds.
Could she accidentally have done away with her hymen by using tampons? Or maybe by masturbating?
Since she hadn’t bled while self-pleasuring, tampons were the more likely culprit.
Gently untangling herself from Vlad’s arms, Wendy caref
ully lifted the blanket and shifted to the side. Unless it was under his body, she couldn’t see even a single drop of blood on the white bedsheet.
“What are you doing?” He pulled her back down.
“Checking the sheet.”
“Why? Is it sticky?” He smiled sheepishly. “I fell asleep after we made love, so I didn’t clean us up.”
“It is a little sticky, but I don’t care about that.” She pulled away again and lifted the blanket off both of them. “Can you move to the side?”
His eyes roaming over her nude body, he smiled, revealing his already elongating fangs. “What are you looking for?” He did as she asked.
“Bloodstains.”
“Oh, that. There aren’t any. I was very careful when I bit you, and then I licked the puncture wounds closed, so if there was any blood, I would have cleaned it up.”
Wendy flopped back down. “It didn’t even occur to me that your bites could have made me bleed. I was looking for my virgin blood, but apparently, I wasn’t a virgin.”
Vlad frowned. “Do you think that Marisol compelled you to have sex with someone and then forget it?”
That hadn’t occurred to her either.
As Wendy considered the disturbing possibilities, a shiver ran through her body. Could Marisol have compelled her to have sex with Simmons, and then compelled her to forget it?
If the damn bitch had done that to her, Wendy was going to track her down and kill her with her own two hands. But only after she turned immortal, so Marisol couldn’t compel her to stop choking the life out of her.
“I was thinking along the lines of tampons being the culprit, not compulsion. Damn. Now that you’ve planted the idea in my head, I won’t rest until I know for sure. Is there a way to check if I was compelled to forget that I had sex?”
