Once inside the little hole-in-the-wall shop, Liz’s attention was instantly drawn to a small black television set that was nestled among the scores of books on whipping techniques, bloodletting and sexual strategies. Playing what appeared to be a homemade porno video, it contained the image of a buxom brunette sporting a gothic-looking crucifix that hung down between her large, swaying breasts. Down on all fours she intently sucked the cock of the heavily muscled guy who stood in front of her, her head bobbing furiously to slide her red-lined mouth up and down his bulky shaft. Behind her another thick-cocked male, pummeling her glistening anus with a vengeance, suddenly pulled out, roughly jerking his tool with one hand to come all over her back.
Liz moved into a separate area designated for fashion. Her eyes moved around the small room that contained row upon row of garments stretching up to the ceiling. The retrieval of the loftiest items required the handy ladder that stood tilted against one wall. A explosion of primarily black, red, purple and white filled the space, the assorted fabrics represented in the visual collage of clothing ranging from feathers, fur, chiffon, silk and satin to lace and of course, leather, vinyl, latex and plastic. Reaching for a campy high-collared gown, Liz nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the clerk’s nasal voice behind her, strongly declaring the piece was “all wrong for you”.
Not an hour later, Liz walked out in a purple velvet mini-dress with tiny spaghetti straps. The corset-like bodice with its black satin laces running up the middle cinched in her waist and pushed up her ample breasts to practically pop out over top of the lace edge. Barely there sheer black nylons and the hint of a black lace garter belt could be spied atop her thigh-high black vinyl fuck-me boots with stiletto heels so high they would be a definite no-no for a person with vertigo. A gorgeous black lace full-length cape with a gently rounded hood let the material fall in a convenient V on either side to frame her plentiful cleavage. Once home, she split her shoulder-length blonde hair into eight sections that she braided and secured into individual spirals that extended from her head. The effect was that of a modern but very sexy Medusa. Pale foundation accentuated by black eyeliner and blood-red lipstick put the finishing touches on her sizzling new undead look.
Now, standing at the veiled entrance to the bar just a little after midnight, Liz fumbled a bit along the apparently impenetrable hedge before she noted a slight gap where the woman before her had just gone through. Moving through the clandestine channel, she came out on the other side, starting a little at the massive black-leathered figure who fronted the door. Not an inch of his body was unadorned by the dark cowhide, including his face and head. Completely covered by a tight black leather mask, only small zippered slits for his eyes, nose and mouth allowed him to see, breathe and speak. From what Liz could tell, he was looking right at her.
“Coming?”
Liz suddenly felt a little mischievous.
“Hope springs eternal.”
“Huh?”
The joke was obviously lost on the no-necked doorman. Walking toward him, she eyed him seriously.
“Yeah, thanks.”
Wordlessly, the bouncer opened the door for her. As soon as he did, the raw, angry sounds of the house band tumbled out, the sudden volume of the music surprising Liz. Outstanding soundproofed structures were another constant of the L.A. nightclub scene and clearly Bites and Bonds was no exception.
Once inside, Liz stood rooted for a long moment. As she had anticipated it was dark, so she allowed her eyes to adjust to the light, or lack thereof, before moving forward. Slowly the shapes around her emerged, the series of round two-person tables unexpectedly made romantic by the single candle centered on each one, bodies milling about the short bar that sat diagonally against the far left side of the narrow room, the five-person band that rocked and raged directly opposite her. Fronted by a thin black girl with a shaved head and too many piercings to count—all of which were visible, including her jeweled nipple rings which sparkled through her sheer top—she yelled into the mic held in one hand, all the while whipping the air emphatically with the jade-handled crop she held in the other.
Taking a seat at the bar, Liz swiveled around on the stool to assess those in the crowd who were embracing the whole undead-and-loving-it thing. More than once, she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Sure, there were a few mildly attractive goths stylishly attired in black. Looking young, chic and—as they wanted—dark, their tattooed, pierced skin and pointed canines made them look pretty darn close to the real thing. But then there were the over-the-toppers ridiculously equipped with paste-on fangs so obviously oversized and artificially colored that you just knew they had picked them up at a corner store for a few bucks. Red-lined black capes and drawn-on widow’s peaks were also dead giveaways of the spot’s campier patrons.
Perusing the people who posed and pleasured themselves about her, Liz found herself wondering if the mysterious Skylar was lurking somewhere in the shadows, drinking in the action.
A few hours passed in which she sipped a single glass of a full-bodied shiraz and mingled, working the room in an attempt to identify the emailer’s reportedly legitimate leech. Chatting with a number of frisky folk, she even managed to deflect a couple of offers for a little Master-servant action, the like of which, now that the night had worn on, was going down at various locales around the space.
Just to the left of the stage, a raven-haired female equipped with a cat-o’-nine-tails lightly whipped the chest of her male lover who was horizontally secured spread-eagled at one of the many “torture stations”. Moving around to stand behind his head, she crawled over his body, sitting back on her haunches so his face, now perfectly aligned with her pussy, allowed him to lap hungrily between her legs. Stretching her torso over his, she rubbed and jerked and sucked his twitching cock, her fingernails lightly scratching his full balls, a light slap on his sac drawing a low moan from her blindfolded partner.
Things were heating up all right, and still the man of the hour was nowhere to be seen. Not that Liz even knew what he looked like. But in her time there, she had spoken to damn near everyone and no one came even close to fitting the bill. So as the clock struck three and stifling one yawn after another, Liz rose to leave. Prince Puncture, if he did exist, would have to materialize another night.
“Buy you a drink?”
Liz turned in the direction of the male voice to her left, its source very definitely falling into the serious vampire wannabe category. Black hair and eyes jumped out against a pallid face, his long dark overcoat on top of black clothes and boots further emphasizing his light skin.
Hmm. Cute.
Now if this particular young hottie had arrived earlier in the evening, Liz would have done her level best to entice him into talking. But as the situation stood, it was late, she was tired and said cutie looked way too young to be two hundred years old.
“No thanks. I’m just leaving.”
“Yeah, I hear ya. Walk you out?”
Liz hesitated.
Yeah, he was a total stranger but then again, it was a free country and she couldn’t stop the guy from leaving when she was. To his question, she merely shrugged and walked away.
Stepping out onto the street, he emerged at her side, offering a soft “Sorry” when she gasped lightly. “You don’t want to be walking alone this time of night.”
“It’s okay. I don’t live far.”
“Just the same, I’ll see you home.”
It wasn’t a question.
Again Liz didn’t comment. Maybe she should have given the guy a stronger “Fuck off” signal, but it probably wouldn’t have made any difference. He was not taking the hint that she was not interested. They walked the relatively short distance to her apartment, the guy making small talk as they strolled. Then only steps from the building’s entrance, he grabbed Liz from behind, his hand clamping down over her mouth. Pulling her into a nearby alley, he pushed her up against the structure’s brick side, his eyes dancing with a crazy light.
“I want to taste your blood,” he growled, “I’m gonna taste it.”
Releasing the hand that pressed over her lips and nose, he pulled something from his pocket and with a flick, the blade of a switchblade shot out only inches from her face.
Liz screamed at the sight of the weapon, a second scream ripping harder and louder from her throat as her assailant was violently spun around and arched awkwardly backward into the restraining hold of a second individual. Seconds later, Liz’s attacker slid out of the arms of the second person and fell to the ground, his own piteous shriek echoing down the dark walkway. Clutching the side of his neck, he stared up at the dark figure who towered over him, his widened eyes full of fear and pain.
“What the fuck, man?”
Liz’s gaze shifted from the pavement up to the person who had saved her, her hand flying to her mouth as she gasped in shock. Panting slightly, the man’s lips were spread apart to show a pair of dazzling long, hard fangs dripping with blood, a couple of red drops dotting his chin, his gaze still on the criminal at their feet. Taking a single step toward the cowering shape on the ground, he glared at the horrified supine imposter, his stare seeming to hypnotize and confuse the fallen offender. In a daze, the guy at their feet scrambled up and ran back out onto the Avenue to disappear around the corner.
Wiping at his mouth with the corner of his sleeve, the figure in front of Liz then turned to her.
“Are you okay?”
His low, satiny voice made her pussy immediately react with a sudden throbbing jolt. Shifting slightly, Liz pressed her thighs together as the feminine folds between them continued to pulse and grow wet.
Wordlessly she nodded, stunned by what she was seeing.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I had to stop him, though, or he would have.”
He gave a little shrug then that was almost endearing, his warm brown eyes softening slightly.
“By the way, my name is Skylar.”
Chapter Three
Liz’s hand and mouth dropped at exactly the same time and for a lengthy moment she stood openly staring at the being before her. Tall and from what she could tell, nicely built, he was—apart from the fangs and a relatively fair complexion—the farthest thing from a vampire she’d ever seen.
His chestnut hair was kind of loose and lazy, hanging down to brush the collar of his turquoise cotton shirt and his faded blue jeans, though tight, were nothing extraordinary, his beige hiker boots quite common. There was no ruffled shirt, no cape, not even a hint of goth in his attire and yet Liz sensed that she was looking at the real McCoy.
“Skylar Tremont?”
He looked deeply into her eyes, his scorching, probing gaze causing the trickle between her legs to increase with her desire for him.
“Who wants to know?”
Liz’s feisty personality rose to the forefront.
“Me. I’m Liz, Liz Hawke, a reporter with the L.A. Times. A friend told me about you and well, I’d really love to talk you.”
Skylar took a step toward her.
“I just bet you would.”
Her large blue eyes bore innocently into his. Her heartbeat deafened his superhuman hearing as it quickened. His telepathic powers reassured him that she found him attractive—no big feat considering most humans did—but more than that, what was really exciting him was that she wanted to know him, really know him, her curiosity and fascination translating into her feminine scent that filled his nostrils and made his cock stiffen.
Now that surprised him.
Seldom was Skylar aroused sexually by a mortal and never unwillingly so. And yet, within a matter of seconds this woman had, through her response to him, made him respond to her. The reality of the situation and unintentional power struggle that it implied made Skylar more than a little uncomfortable. Determined to get on top once more, he took another step, the power of his stare and the closeness of his body making Liz’s own form tremble with both fear and desire. Skylar let his gaze drop lazily down to blatantly gape at the vicinity of her pussy which he could smell was absolutely dripping. With a knowing smile, he raised his eyes to hers once more, taking note of her flushed face.
“Looks like you’d love something else too.”
In retaliation for making his cock so hard, he was going to give her a night she’d not soon forget. It’s not what he had planned but after two hundred years, Skylar Tremont had learned to roll with the punches.
Liz only swallowed, her face reddening as her heart pounded. The tips of her hardened nipples ached painfully as they strained against the tight confines of her bodice. With a gentle movement, Skylar reached out and with one long index finger traced the curve of her jaw, down her neck to the front of her throat and down, stopping just before the crevice of her cleavage, his touch leaving a blazing fire in its wake. Her breath now coming in sharp shallow gasps and Liz felt her toes within her boots curl with need.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he proposed, taking one last step toward her, his hard body now crushing her against the wall. “I’ll give you what you want if you give me what I want.”
Whoever and whatever this being was, he was doing something to Liz she’d never experienced before, something new and exciting, and come what may, she wasn’t about to put a stop to it.
Her question came out in a hoarse whisper.
“Wha-what do you want?”
Slithering one arm behind her in a move that raised gooseflesh all over her body, Skylar leaned in until their lips were almost touching. Then he paused, his head tilting to one side as he studied her closely.
“You’ve been drinking.”
Liz’s gaze dropped down to the remnants of the blood that marked his chin. Defiantly she raised her eyes to his.
“So have you.”
With a grin that registered more in his eyes than on his full mouth, Skylar pulled her hard against him and in one incredible burst of vampiric energy, they flew upward into the night sky.
The speed and force with which they moved frightened Liz to such an extent that she found herself clutching wildly at Skylar’s back and waist, her legs flailing to wrap around his.
“You’re a leg wrapper, huh?” came the low query that, even above the howl of the wind, worked to make Liz’s pussy quiver. The rest of her body shook too, but not only with sexual excitement. It was chilly flying among the stars.
Skylar, in a display of his amazing immortal strength, effortlessly pushed Liz out at arm’s length. Spinning her around, he then pulled her back roughly so that her butt was pushed snug against the front of his body, the steel-like rod of his erection pressing into her.
“It’s pretty cold up here,” he said, his breath hotly brushing her ear. “Let’s see if we can do something to warm you up a little.”
With the lights of L.A. at their feet and the mists of the evening clouds zooming past them, Skylar pushed one of his knees in and up, effectively splitting Liz’s legs. While one hand moved from her waist up to massage the diamond-hard points of her nipples, the other dipped down to do some delightful damage to her now-pleading pussy.
For a time he palmed her up and down over the slick fabric of her thong that had become drenched with her juices, his fingers moving up to expertly locate and stroke the blossoming bud of her clit against the sleek material.
Her head falling back into the cradle between his neck and shoulder, Liz’s mouth fell open and her eyes shut as Skylar, true to his word, worked to raise her temperature. But it wasn’t enough. Not for her and apparently not for Skylar either because as the world whipped around them, his airy attempt went further.
“That’s better. But I bet I can get you hotter.”
Abandoning her breasts for a brief moment, Skylar used that hand to glide down her thigh and clasp under her knee, nudging it out to better spread her legs, his free leg moving around to link over it and hold it open in place. While one hand returned to her breasts, the other closed around the thin silk fabric of Liz’s thong that stretched ov
er her lower abdomen. With a sharp yank, Skylar ripped the purple panties from her body and let the tattered material fall to Earth, her hot cunt and the saturated soft curls that surrounded it stingily assaulted by the nippy air stream.
Liz gasped, her body stiffening but Skylar held her close, whispering low and hot in her ear as his hand moved to shield her exposed slit from the blustery breeze.
“Don’t worry, baby. When I get through with you, you won’t even remember that it was windy.”
The promise alone just about did the job but there was another unexpected reason for her racy reaction to his words. Never really one for terms of endearment, Liz was more than a little surprised at how the way Skylar said baby made both her stomach and pussy ripple.
Squirming, Liz held her breath as Skylar held her even closer and began making slow, long strokes of her cunt with a couple of his long, lean fingers. Stretching from her wildly inflamed clit all the way to her creamy opening and back again, he soon began teasing her with little rhythmic combinations clearly intended to drive her crazy. Three strong slow strokes on her extended nub, followed by two even lazier end-to-end rubs, was completed by four sharp and fast penetrating probes into her vagina as it clamped around his dripping fingers. From there, a very brief pause ensued, just long enough to stave off her orgasm, before he began again.
Her fingernails digging into the skin on his forearms, Liz arched her back, desperately wanting him to ram his fingers hard and fast into her tightening canal until she came, but Skylar only continued to tease her with his two-steps-forward, one-step-back method, taking her right to the edge and then backing off, only to start all over again.
When she could stand it no more, Liz cried out, her own hand sharply directing his fingers inside her as she pushed her hips forward.
“Please.”
Skylar got the message.
Stiffening his fingers he thrust them in and out of Liz’s aching cunt at just the right angle to give her engorged clit a damn good nudge. With a violent shudder, Liz exploded, her ensuing wail echoing through the heavens as she convulsed in his strong arms, high above the earth.
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