by A. K. Koonce
He stares at me like he’s thought about this for every day of his entire life, and now I’m finally here.
“Turn around,” he growls on a breath before trailing a path down my throat with the warmth of his mouth.
My head tilts to accommodate him for only a moment before I shift beneath him. Long muscular legs become entangled with mine. The hard outline beneath his boxers catches my gaze before I can fully obey his order.
My mouth skims over his smooth shoulder and then the curve of his pectoral… down the planes of his stomach… down the thin trail of hair that leads further down, down, down.
“I said turn around!” Vuitton repeats on a ragged breath.
He says that. But he also lifts up from me, kneeling for me to gain access to any single glorious part of him that I might want.
Slowly, I slide out of my heavy coat and sit before him in just the tight red dress. I hold his attention as I too kneel, but in a more devotional pose. In a sort of way that bows alllllll the way down.
I lower my head even more, and his curious gaze watches me intently as I pull back the elastic waistband of his tight black boxers.
The thick dry grass blows in the breeze with a soothing sound of rustling. I know that we’re concealed here… but anyone could just walk over if they wanted.
His pack could find us.
Fuck, they can probably hear us. Maybe even smell us.
But the need to feel what he’s offering is more important than my modesty right now.
I pull the thin material of his underwear down until the thickness of his shaft wavers across my knuckles. A smooth rigidness teases my fingers, but I never fully caress him in the way that he’s clearly desperate for me to take him.
My breath shakes over my lips as I peer down at the defined veins and the pulse that twitches through his cock.
As I stare, his big hand comes down. He coils his fingers around himself, not fully wrapping all the way around, then he strokes slowly up his shaft and ever so slowly back down.
“Is this what you want, Kira?” he asks in a voice like hot gravel.
My thighs shift with a sudden ache coursing through my center.
I don’t answer him.
Instead, I look at him through my eyelashes and tilt my chin up to where my breath fans over his head. A thick drop appears beads there at the tip of his cock, and I watch him like a hungry predator as his lips part with a wanting breath.
And in my own way of answering him, I turn his question back on himself. “Is this what you want?” I ask with my lips brushing along his cockhead, his hand still working in that slow, torturous pace.
He nods roughly, shaking his golden hair around his features as he looks down on me with a new kind of desperation.
A desperation I suddenly like.
My lips part wider, and I can just barely taste the slickness at the tip as I speak. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you,” I whisper against his flesh.
His jaw grinds.
“Fuck!” Vuitton hisses.
And then I part my lips just slightly to let his cock open my mouth for him. My tongue glides down his shaft with a pulse throbbing against me as I press against him.
A groan shakes through him and his hand falls away, but it locks into the messiness of my hair as he guides me further down his length. I take as much of him as I can, until he’s brushing the back of my throat. And then I repeat the same motion all over again.
And again.
And again.
He grows impossibly harder against my tongue with every passing minute. The sounds of pleasure that rumble out of him are an animalistic growl that my sex reacts to instinctively.
He’s making me wet just by hearing his approval.
I want him as much as he wants me, and I’m so tired of waiting.
“Turn around,” he commands once more.
But this time, instead of waiting for me to obey, he pulls back from me and grabs my hips. I’m still catching my breath as he drags my knees across the folded grass and shoves my dress up and my lace panties down. The tight material of my dress bunches around my hips. My back arches for him. My legs shake at the simple thought of his thickness filling me. I wait for that first delicious thrust.
I wait.
I wait.
I wa—
And then the soft caress of his tongue flicks over my opening from behind.
A surprised gasp cuts over my lips.
His hold on my hips tightens as he begins to roll his tongue deeper, flicking over my clit before diving in as far as he can go. The shiver of his groan goes all through me as he tastes and fucks me with his mouth.
The quickness of it all makes every sensation blur into one. I can’t tell what he’s doing, but my body reacts to every single move he makes. Every lashing of his tongue is like a glimpse of nirvana that lights me up inside. He leaves me breathless and gasping and wanting and needing.
And then he stops.
My eyes flutter open to the intense sunlight.
The sounds of birds are suddenly heard around us. Or maybe they were there all along…
His nails sink into my hips and just as the world is starting to reform around me once again, he makes it all fade away. A slick hardness slides down my sex and across my clit.
My mouth parts. Then he teases my opening. My legs spread wider, but still he just brushes himself over my wetness.
I turn my head to look at him over my shoulder.
His lips curve up at one side in an arrogant -how do you like it now?- sort of way.
The cocky bastard.
Then he slides all the way in. Inch by glorious inch he stretches me to the most amazing feeling of fullness. He thrusts so slow that it’s an awakening of his body entangling with mine. The most unstable shaking courses through me, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before.
“Vuitton,” I whisper and the groan he replies with just sparks all new tremors within my core that lash out all through my body.
My hands tremble over the dry grass, and my fingers dig in to find any source of stability.
But it isn’t enough.
His hips collide with a speed I can’t even imagine. It’s fast and hard and I can’t even focus on my own breathlessness as he uses my body in the best possible way.
“Fuck,” he growls, and somehow manages to speed up his pace.
My moans are untamed as the winding whirlwind of pleasure inside me builds like a hurricane. Higher and higher, it continues to climb to new impossible heights.
His hand slides along my spine, and I’m faintly aware of how hard he pulls my hair at the base of my neck. My throat angles and my spine arches for him as he holds me in place to fuck me deeper. His other palm pushes against my lower back, and that just makes every single thrust feel more intense and demanding.
It’s… it’s too much.
Wetness drips all down my thighs and across his cock as blinding colors like the sun and stars colliding together flash behind my eyes. Every part of me trembles: my legs, my arms, even my screams. The waves of the colors and emotions never fade as he continues his pace. They simply wash in harder with spirals of ups and downs consuming my body in deliciously addictive pleasure.
A growl and a curse rumbles over his lips as he thrusts in so hard it hurts, and then he tenses there. I feel his hold on me quiver just as much as his hips do against my body.
Warmth blooms in my chest, and I don’t know why it feels so affectionate.
It feels utterly beautiful.
His fingers slip from my hair, and he drags those fingertips across the back of my dress in a slow caress of kindness. He leans over me and his big hands massage my neck before placing a series of soft kisses there.
Even after dirty, animalistic sex, he’s still sweet.
I pull away from him and turn until my back connects with the cold ground. His warm palms slide up and down my calves. The color in his hooded eyes is a bright gold now as he gazes at me.
/> I’ll never forget this. I won’t allow my mortal mind to dull any of the emotions he just gave me. The way he made me feel, I’ll never forget it.
But life carries on, with or without sentimental memories. I swallow hard as I pull my dress back down into place. My heart pounds, and only one thing is left clinging to the emptiness of my scattered thoughts.
“I really need to know everything you know about my sister,” I whisper sadly.
Because even in all my bliss, her troubles are always at the back of my mind.
Vuitton nods quietly.
He searches around himself, and then pulls a pair of black lace panties from the ground. Without asking, he begins sliding them over my legs and up my thighs, putting me back together again.
“She never had a real relationship with anyone. She was close with Prey. They were friends of a sort, but I know there was a lot she never felt comfortable telling him.”
That does sound a lot like Kyra. Vampire Kyra, anyway. My twin, the girl I grew up with, she was an open book.
But I guess that’s just what life does to you. The dark parts consume all the good, and they don’t leave any room for trust.
“Rival and her had a strange relationship, but he was even further behind Prey. She just… she didn’t tell us things.” Vuitton pulls on his boxers, but he never leaves his place in front of me. “I was her guard outside of the house, and she trusted me to be that for her,” a line creases between his brows as he looks away toward the pale skyline.
The way my heart dives at the thought of his guilt eating him alive the same way it does me, I can’t help but reach for him. My fingers brush over his knuckles and I sit up to truly face him.
“You’re not responsible for this. Someone is, and they’re still out there. They’ve done this to women over and over again. And they’ll keep doing it, unless we can find and stop them first.” I hate how hopelessly fragile I feel right now.
Exposed and raw to him.
I’ll blame it on the sex, but really I know I’m getting too comfortable with Vuitton. I’m not ready to tell him my true thoughts or fears.
Whoever did this, they’re not human. They’re a monster.
A beautiful monster perhaps, parading around with a smile and charm that will kill anyone who mistakenly trusts them.
“In the basement, where they all sleep, there’s a big metal door against the back wall.” He looks me hard in my eyes as he speaks. “Take your finger and write Kyra Vega across the smooth plate there and enter slowly. You’ll find more answers inside.”
I blink at him. His admission leaves me stunned.
“How will I get answers there?” I ask as a prickling of strange energy tingles across the flesh of my arms.
But I never could have anticipated what he says next.
“Because the man locked inside will give them to you.”
Sixteen
Prey
I feel like shit.
For years, all I’ve heard these fucks babble about is how lovely it feels to be in love. To have a mate.
Perhaps they should limit that fucking hallmark feeling to mates within their race. Because humans, they fucking suck you dry. I’ve never felt so much goddamn self-loathing in my entire life.
The council continues to murmur on about the cases of human women being found murdered in downtown Chicago.
“A young one. Only eighteen years old was found in the park last night.” Pavel says as he sips from his glass of blood.
Nothing phases him, though. He’s far too old to care much about the fragile mortality of humans.
“Eighteen,” Acessa repeats with big wide eyes.
Rival shakes his head as he leans back in his chair, just to the right of the empty seat at the head of the table.
“Where’s Kyra? This is the kind of thing that Kyra should be handling,” Pavel sputters as he gets up from his place and starts wandering toward the door.
Fuck, I wish I could join him. Just walk right out and hope that the dead girl solves all our problems.
Jesus, Kyra would be able to solve all my fucking problems.
Like her sister claiming my mating mark.
The front door opens with a cool gust of wind and just a hint of the evening sun washes in across her long blonde hair.
Her… messy long blonde hair… Is that a twig in her hair?
“What— just what is that smell?” Rival asks with a scrunching motion of his nose.
Acessa smiles awkwardly, but rushes toward Kira’s side.
“Let’s go to your room,” the vampire instructs with a pull of the stupid human girl’s hand.
My eyes narrow when the scent finally hits my nose. It smells like mutt.
No, it smells like mutt and sex.
Then it hits me.
Something inside me flares up with anger and rage.
“You fucked Vuitton!” I announce to everyone from across the grand dining hall.
My words carry loud and clear, and even old man Pavel halts in his rickety steps. He turns, sunken eyes widen as he looks at her.
Meanwhile she just glares at me.
I can feel her hate like it’s my own.
Because it is.
Why the fuck would I put my mark on a human?
Because I’m weak.
And I deserve a weak love.
My fingers dig into my palms at that painful thought.
“Keep your thoughts to yourself, Prey. I’ll let you know when you’re needed.” Kira says, straightening her shoulders the way her sister used to.
“I think, you fucked a dog when you have a house of high vampires to choose from,” I say flatly, the mark over my heart burning like a flame across my flesh.
How the fuck did a human mark me?
How could she even have that ability?
Her heels click loudly across the gray tile flooring, but she’s in my face in the matter of half a second, glaring up at me with those intense gray eyes.
Kira’s eyes are so different.
Maybe the others don’t see it, but Kyra’s eyes were the lightest shade blue. While Kira’s are like the sharp edge of a blade catching the sunlight.
“You’re getting fast,” I whisper.
“And you’re getting arrogant,” she replies.
Her chest brushes mine, soft curves pressing into me while I go back and forth between wanting to claim her and wanting to kill her.
“Do not insert yourself into my life. You’re an assistant. Remember that,” she says harshly, and I can feel them all watching us.
I never would have challenged Kyra like this.
But I also wouldn’t have marked my only friend, either.
The urges to hold her and to also shove her off a roof wrestle in my mind. She has to keep her appearance as Kyra, and I have to maintain my appearance as her assistant.
Not her mate.
And yet… I still can’t stop myself from biting back at her lashing words.
My head tilts down until our breaths kiss, but our lips simply hover with just enough room for our abhorrence to be felt pressing against each other.
“Prey...” Rival warns.
But he means nothing.
Just like she does.
“I don’t need a female,” I whisper vaguely. “As a matter of fact, I’m immortal. I could easily just wait another hundred years for the next bitch to take my mark.”
Her fierce gray eyes turn to slits as she glares up at me and the rejection I just fed her.
Fuck her.
And her smoldering mating mark.
Seventeen
Kira
I’m storming down the stairs before he can say another word to expose us. My pulse is an insane thumping in my ears that beats so loud my skull pounds from it.
“Fucking annoying vampires, their magical marks, and their extreme bullshit!” I hiss as I round the last step and find seven ominous coffins laid out like décor.
What stands out the most in this moment thou
gh, is the solid metal door just behind them. It frames the display of coffins. Someone really put thought into the black glossy metal, directly behind the fourth croft.
Someone’s in there? A man?
Someone with information?
I try to understand what Vuitton sent me here for, but I can’t imagine a single soul on this Earth who would have details on my sister’s death or the murders happening in this city. Yet I walk over to the center of the room anyway. A smooth metal plate is bolted in the middle. A soft worn spot reveals a lighter color in the center of the plate. Cold seeps into my fingertips as I settle my index finger onto the square and start to trace out a name I haven’t written in so long.
Kyra Vega
The sound of heavy iron grating is all that can be heard in the silence. Unseen gears shift. I watch, but nothing moves as far as I can see.
And then...
Everything goes quiet.
I pause, but I can’t stop my hand from lifting curiously to the cold surface. A pulse reverberates beneath my fingertips. Is it my own anticipation... or something else?
My palm makes full contact and I start to push hard. Power sparks to life in my veins. I shove harder, with both hands. I put my shoulder into it and I’m heaving by the time the door actually starts to swing open with my forceful steps inside.
Darkness blankets the room, but a blue electric light waves above the center of the closet-like space. It’s a cylinder that illuminates from the ceiling to the floor. The beam of color moves continuously, like an ocean drifting out over the endlessness of the Earth.
“Someone new!” A pleased voice calls out from the shadows. “You have her blood, but not her eyes,” an ominous voice says.
The voice circles the room in a terrifying way, and it’s only then that I notice the door behind me has somehow closed.
Without a sound.
“Excuse me?” I say politely, but with an authority I don’t actually possess.
“You entered the name Kyra Vega. I would have turned you away, but your blood matches hers. So please, by all means, introduce yourself. I so rarely get new visitors.” The voice is deep and warming now. Curious, but still powerful.
