by Aubrey Ross
Grasping her hips, he closed his teeth around her clit and flicked the very tip. She cried out, her hips thrusting forward as pleasure burst within her body. He smelled the fresh rush of cream a split second before it filled his mouth. Yes! He drove his tongue deep into her rippling core as she twisted and shook, pressing his lips against her folds to catch every drop.
There was an exotic element to her essence. His head spun, while hunger surged within him anew, demanding more, demanding her. He licked and sucked, driving the pleasure higher. Her fingers slipped into his hair, tangling, pulling him closer as his lips moved against her and his tongue thrust into her.
She cried out again. His scalp stung as her fingers closed into tight little fists. He took her to the edge, felt her still and tense as another orgasm poised to take her. Then he turned her, bent her over the top of the grand piano, and spread her arms out to either side of her body.
“You should have let me take you up to one of the bedrooms.” He panted as he frantically shucked his pants. “This is making me… aggressive.” A burst of scalding lust accompanied her whimper and Eric grinned into the near darkness. Her upper body had all but disappeared against the black piano, but her long, shapely legs and rounded ass were still visible as she bent over the instrument.
He stepped up behind her and nudged her legs wider with his knees. The desire to drive his fangs deep as he thrust his cock home burned within him, but he knew nothing about her. It was dangerous to create blood bonds indiscriminately. Slipping one arm around her waist, he pulled her up and back.
“I don’t want you to bite me,” she said, her voice sounded rather forced. “At least not yet.”
Easing past her swollen folds, he paused at the mouth of her cunt. “You still want this?”
“Yes. Oh god, yes!”
Eric filled her with one hard thrust, his balls slapping against her clit. She tossed her head, sending her hair into his face. Her fragrance filled his nose and he pulled his hips back. Hot, throbbing silk surrounded his cock. He drove deep again and again, her ass cushioning each firm stroke. She steadied herself against the piano, but his arm kept the edge from digging into her hips.
He tried to enjoy the physical sensations without complicating the exchange. She needed sexual release and he was giving it to her. So why did his chest ache as well as his balls? Why did he want to wrap her in his arms and banish the rest of the world? He didn’t even know her name, had never seen her face.
She bucked up against him. Her inner muscles squeezed his cock each time he reached the apex of his thrust. With a simple mental pulse he could send her into orgasm and her spasms would trigger his own release. But he wanted more for her, he wanted more from her. Fucking her would never be enough.
Ignoring her cry of protest, he pulled out and led her to the padded piano bench. He sat on the middle of the bench and pulled her down straddling his lap. “If I can’t see you, I have to be able to feel all of you.”
Mercedes guided Eric’s cock to her entrance and slowly lowered herself onto his shaft. The thick column of flesh pushed deeper and deeper until she was completely filled. She clutched his shoulders, her knees squeezing his lean hips. Being taken from behind had felt wonderful, yet impersonal. This was so much better.
He found her face with his fingers, then kissed her, his mouth sliding and caressing before his lips settled over hers. His tongue delved past her lips, stroking her tongue and her teeth, possessing her mouth as intimately as his cock possessed her core. She trembled, unprepared for the emotions unleashed by his tenderness. He caressed her face and her breasts, while his shaft throbbed inside her.
She dragged her mouth away from his, overwhelmed by the onslaught. “Why aren’t you moving?”
He grasped her bottom with both hands and pulled her closer, driving his cock deeper. “I don’t want this to end. It’s too perfect. Just squeeze me as hard as you can.” Wrapping her arms around his back, she pressed her face against his throat and constricted her inner muscles. “Yes. Keep doing that.”
After scooting the bench close enough so he could reach the keys, Eric began to play. Mercedes relaxed against him, savoring the fullness of his erection inside her and the anticipation of the pleasure to come. She stroked his hair and inhaled his scent, letting his music wrap around her as she was wrapped around him.
He started Ode to Darkness. Instead of intruding on the blissful tranquility, she slipped into his mind and provided the rest of the song telepathically. His fingers never faltered on the keys and she sang softly, shifting her weight so she could wrap her legs around his waist.
Without questioning the connection, he moved on to the next song, accepting her presence as if she’d always been there. Emotion welled up within her, robbing her of her voice. Did he realize how often they’d collaborated in the past or was he simply relieved to be composing again? He played and kissed her and played some more. She filled his mind with music and savored the blending of their creative souls.
He let the final chords resonate as his tongue moved in her mouth. His hands rubbed her back, cool now from their contact with the piano keys. “I don’t understand,” he whispered against her lips. “How is this possible? You’re not real. You’re a dream, my inspiration, my muse.”
How could she tell him? How could she not tell him? “I reached out from the darkness, terrified and alone.” She eased back, allowing him to see the intensity of her eyes. “I was going insane, literally, and then my mind found you.”
“All these years…” He framed her face with his hands and kissed the corners of her mouth. “…I heard your voice inside my head.” He chuckled and she groaned, undeniably aware of his fullness waiting inside her. “Pyrite owes you a bunch of money, sweetheart. You co-wrote every song on their last four albums.”
“This isn’t about money.” It frustrated her that he would mention so insignificant a detail when everything she’d ever wanted was within reach. “It was never about money.”
“I need you too badly to think right now.” He wrapped his arms around her and carried her to the sofa, his hard length still buried to the hilt. “We’re going to have a good long talk -- after.” His mouth covered hers and she loosened her legs, so he could finally move.
Slow steady strokes built the smoldering flames to a roaring inferno. Tears gathered behind her lashes as affection swelled within her heart. She had loved Eric for over a century. Their mouths separated as he extended his arms and thrust more forcefully. She opened to him, wanting him, craving their union with an urgency that swept all other thoughts from her mind.
He drove deep, his cock bucking inside her as he came with a hoarse cry. The distinct pulse of his release pushed her over the edge. She hooked her ankles behind his thighs and shuddered violently with the force of her own orgasm.
“Oh god,” he groaned, his body relaxing against hers. He balanced most of his weight on his knees, but his chest covered her breasts and his face nestled against the side of her neck. “What’s your name? You have to at least tell me that.”
“Euterpe,” she whispered, “I’m your muse.”
Eric pushed back from the woman sprawled beneath him, not quite angry enough to pull out of her tight heat. “I can’t see your face or know your name, but you’ve been hanging out inside my head for about two hundred years?”
“That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”
“I remember what happened right after I wrote Ode to Darkness.” He felt her body stiffen, telling him all he needed to know. She’d watched him with Lynette and Chad. Now he was pissed. He crawled off the coach and grabbed his jeans. “I told Rafe this started after Jon took Phillip’s place. I’m not going crazy. You’re punishing me. My muse is jealous!”
“I am not jealous.” She stood so suddenly, Eric saw a blur of light. Was she losing control of… whatever the hell made her invisible? “It was hard to get anything accomplished when every time I tried to collaborate I found my writing partner screwing some groupie!”
“They weren’t all groupies.” He smirked, knowing it would infuriate her. “Jon actually knew some of them from the Woodstock years.” Her shadow grew more distinct as she stomped across the room. Dark hair swished against the small of her back and a second color sparkled in the dark strands. She looked like a grayscale video clip. Come on. We’re almost there. Damn, that ass looked fantastic even in grayscale. “Will you suck my cock before you leave? I always think better after a good blow job.”
She gasped and spun to face him, her emerald eyes flashing in her gorgeous face. “You are nothing like I expected you to be. I can’t believe I thought…”
“I know you.” His gaze swept down her naked body before she clutched her coat to her breasts. “Mercedes Smythe. You were on that sci-fi show for a while. Okay, I’m really confused now. You’re a pseudo-celebrity. What’s with the secrecy?”
Hurt replaced the fury in her eyes. “You just had to see me, didn’t you? You have no idea what he’ll do.”
“Who are you so afraid of?” He took several steps toward her, keeping his movements non-threatening. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’m not completely useless and I have some powerful friends.” He held out his hand. “Can we start over? My name is Eric King. I hear you’re an amazing composer. I’d be honored to collaborate with you.”
She just stared at him for the longest time. Eric turned on the lights with a wave of his hand. Shimmering green strands threaded through her long black hair. The smooth, silky skin he’d been so fascinated with had the faintest hint of green, though the tint was a bit more apparent across the crest of her cheeks. High arching brows accented emerald green eyes with diamond-shaped pupils. He’d already discovered the tiny ridges on the bridge of her nose and the charming ripples at the top of each ear.
“Don’t look at me like that.” She turned her face away.
“Like what? Like I can’t believe one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen is standing right in front of me? Outpost Terra Ferma won awards for your makeup.” He shook his head. “And it was all just your natural beauty.”
“I know I’m not beautiful, so cut the crap. I have big boobs and a tight ass. That’s why they put me on the show.”
“I’m not going to deny the appeal of your figure, but your features are stunning.”
“I’m a freak.”
She whispered the word with such conviction Eric thought his heart would break. He wrapped her in his arms and stroked her hair. “Mercedes, you are incredibly beautiful. Whoever convinced you otherwise was deluded.” Gently he pulled the coat out of her grasp and pressed her against his chest. “I’m so sorry for provoking you, but I had to understand what was really going on.”
“And do you?” She looked up at him, challenge shining in her eyes. “Have you figured it all out?”
“No, but I’d like to.” He picked her up and carried her back to the sofa, sitting down with her on his lap. Where should he start? There was so much he didn’t understand. How had she ended up on the television show? Was there still a threat to her safety or had that just been the excuse she used to hide behind? It was probably best to start at the beginning and work his way through. “Were you a prisoner of some sort when you first reached out to me?”
She nodded. “My mother came here from another dimension and died giving birth to me.”
“Your father was a vampire?”
“Yes. He was killed when I was a child, during the clan wars.”
They had lost so many during the barbaric struggle for supremacy. If Faelon hadn’t led the San Carlos clan to victory and refocused all the clans on the Covenant, similar uprisings might still be occurring today.
“Who took you prisoner? Was it a result of the war?”
“Some felt I was an abomination and that I never should have been allowed to live.” Her tremulous tone clawed at his heart. He wanted to find her tormentors and make them pay for every horror they’d forced upon her. “As soon as my father left, I was locked in a cell and treated like an animal. I was given what I needed to survive, but nothing more. Memories of Papa and the time I spent with you were all I had to sustain me.”
Eric thought of every time he’d been impatient or unapproachable, every hour he’d wasted when he could have been easing her pain. His throat stung and he forced air into his lungs. If only he’d known she was real and understood the true nature of their connection, he would have moved heaven and earth to rescue his muse.
She already told him her father was killed during the war. “Who freed you?”
“My father’s older brother. He was devastated by what happened to me because his own mother was my primary abuser.”
It took Eric a moment to connect the dots. “Your grandmother…”
“She hated me, but she loved Papa too much to kill me.”
“Who is your uncle?”
Eric thought he was prepared for anything, until she spoke the name, “Faelon San Carlos.”
Chapter Five
“You have to go back.”
Mercedes knew what Eric was going to say before the words left his mouth. Pain clouded his eyes and then resignation set in. This was the Eric she knew, the beautiful soul who spoke through music. He wasn’t afraid of Faelon, but Eric understood that he wasn’t in a position to protect her against anything that intimidated an ancient.
“Not yet.” She brought his hand to her breast, smiling into his eyes. “I waited a hundred and fifty years for this. A few more hours aren’t going to make a difference.”
He kissed her gently on the mouth, but pulled away when she tried to deepen the kiss. “Did you come to Club Carousel with Faelon?”
“Not exactly.”
“Why does Faelon think you’re in danger?”
Mercedes sighed and moved off his lap. If he was determined to talk, she’d been naked long enough. She pulled on Eric’s tee-shirt and turned to face him. “I had a stalker. One of my other fans was kind enough to kill him for me, but now loony number two thinks I owe him big time. When I refused his marriage proposal, he decided I’d make a better sex slave. When I wasn’t happy with that suggestion either, he tried to kill me.”
“Is this man still alive?”
“Only because the police got there before Faelon.”
Eric stood as well, finger-combing his hair out of his eyes. “Let’s go back a little further. How did you convince Faelon to let you join the cast of a television show?”
She was tired of talking and she wanted to move beyond her past. Why couldn’t they just fuck? Because Eric has got the heart of a poet. And you wouldn’t want him any other way. She compromised by caressing the sleek contours of his chest with her gaze.
“I didn’t speak for three years after Faelon found me. The hag had constructed barriers around me that kept him from sensing me sooner. But after the war ended, Faelon kept dreaming of Papa. I guess his spirit wasn’t at rest.”
“Was your father able to tell Faelon what was happening to you?” He caught a strand of her hair, allowing the end to curl around his fingers. Anything more intimate would have ended their conversation.
“Faelon believed I was dead. The hag told everyone I ended my own life shortly after Papa was killed. The dreams only made Faelon suspicious enough to follow her and he eventually found me.”
“What did Faelon do?”
“He turned the hag over to the council. Before they could pass judgment, she took her own life. That’s how she always pictured my life ending. I suppose it was as fitting an outcome as any.” She sighed, releasing the memories with the whoosh of her breath. “Faelon took me to his estate and entrusted my care to Antonelli. She was the closest thing to a mother I ever had.” Eric made a strangled sound and Mercedes smiled. “Yes, it’s hard to picture a self-confessed sexual connoisseur raising a child, but you need to remember I wasn’t a child when Faelon freed me.”
“Antonelli can be very nurturing. I’m sure she was just what you needed.”
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��Faelon felt it all was a matter of honor. His family had done me a grievous wrong and he was determined to make it right. I was often overwhelmed by his zeal and Antonelli helped him soften his approach.” She paused for a moment of reflection. “She loved me unconditionally, which was something I hadn’t had since Papa died.”
“She never --”
“No. For all intents and purposes, Faelon and Antonelli are my parents. Much to the chagrin of her life mate, Antonelli introduced me to some of her students. She wanted me to revel in sexual discovery. Still, Antonelli has never looked at me with anything other than maternal affection.”
“I find it hard to cast Faelon in a paternal role. He has always seemed so… savage.”
“Faelon can be many things.” With another distracted smile, Mercedes moved on to more recent events. “For twenty-five years after my rescue, I never left Faelon’s estate. Antonelli was convinced it was unhealthy and insisted I accompany them to California for the summer.”
“I’ve been to their estate in California.” He released her hair and tucked the strand behind her ear. “It’s even more secluded than their castle in Italy.”
“Which was at the heart of Antonelli’s concern. On the outside I had recovered and was relatively well adjusted, but I showed no interest in being part of the world. My appearance creates challenges, but Club Carousel isn’t the only place where unusual people are free to be themselves.”
His gaze caressed her bare legs. “How did you end up on the television show?”
“You’re the one who wanted to talk. I wanted to start round two.”
He chuckled. “Well I’m more than ready for round two now, so cut to the chase.”
“A couple of Antonelli’s friends heard about an open audition for extras on this new sci-fi series. It was scheduled to share a sound stage with another program, so the majority of the shooting was going to be done at night. It was the perfect set up for ambitious vampires trying to break into show business. They said I looked more alien than anyone they’d ever seen and talked me into going with them.”
