Vampire (Alpha Claim 8-Final Enforcement): New Adult Paranormal Romance (Vampire Alpha Claim)

by Eros, Marata

  “Don't wander about, I have questions after the present disaster is sorted.”

  He waits, appearing as though he'd kill to be anywhere but here, and I return my attention to Mollie.

  She feeds for minutes that seem like hours, I shift my weight. Finally she releases her hold on my arm.

  “Hungry,” she says then belches.

  “Lovely table manners.” Underneath my light comment is a relief I can't hide.

  Mollie glares. “When,” she licks her lips of my blood, “will this horrible thirst stop.”

  I smirk. Decide to throw her a compassion bone. “It won't last too long, you've just been turned, remember that.”

  Her stare is full of turmoil. “You'll get in trouble for this, Murphy. You risked yourself.” Her unspoken, for me, dangles off the end of her comment.

  I give a dismissive snort. “I'll take the reprimand. Lashes are out, thank fuck.”

  Now that vampires are well and truly “out,” there are laws in play with regard to how many humans can be “made.” Mollie is my first turn, but I didn't even know what I was doing precisely.

  The Nobles are sure to lynch me , I muse sourly.

  I am a new vamp, and turned by a human hybrid no less. I've just turned my partner—who I don't even like—without permission from the Nobles. The elite of the vampire world.

  “Help me up.”

  I support her weight effortlessly, hauling Mollie to her feet. Mollie's hands fist my shirt. “Why don't I feel better?” Her lips are parched and she licks them.

  I know from experience the thirst will ride her like a heroin monkey. I keep that bit to myself.

  “It's how it is. You were turned because of injury. Not being whole and well at the inception is the cause of this. Your body is still healing and had to change. It's a big trauma, love.”

  Mollie clings to me but manages to pivot around. “Will I be like Narah? Can I have children—”

  I shake my head, giving an exasperated exhale at having to deliver the dreadful news. “No, that is exclusive for hybrid females.”

  Horror washes over her expression and Mollie lets go of me to cover her face.

  “Moll—” I attempt.

  “Don't speak, please.”

  “It's better to be alive and not have offspring than to be dead. That's a whole lot of nothing,” the prehistoric rabbits on, spreading his muscular arms away from his body.

  Mollie's voice is full of unshed tears. “Would you please be quiet.”

  He shrugs, dull red color suffusing his nape as his eyes skate away.

  Mollie takes stock of the mutilated bodies. Her eyes land on the no-longer-twitching arm.

  “What is that,” she points to the amputated limb and latches onto my shoulder for balance.

  I wind my arm around her waist.

  Mollie leans her head against my shoulder. “I hate being weak,” she comments wearily.

  “It will pass. Vampirsim is a physical trauma.” I take in the detached limb. Smirk. “That gent won't be scratching his ass any longer.”

  The prehistoric frowns.

  Moll and I burst out, having a good laugh at the Mutable's expense.

  The bloke's beyond offense. That's a guarantee when you're dead.

  Chapter 5

  Grace

  His flesh is like molten lava that doesn't burn.

  My captor's lips press and move, pecking and sucking at my own until they're plump and swollen.

  Fingers clenching and releasing, I'm still bound by the cloth I can't see but holds me secure.

  I should be afraid. But I'm not. Anything that feels this good can't be bad, right?

  “Female,” he nearly purrs, “do you want more of this?”

  I never expressly said yes to the kiss, but my arousal blooms like a thirsty flower at my core while a throbbing need begins dead center of where his palms ride my hips.

  His kiss isn't urgent, but gentle—reverent.

  I nod.

  Conrick's hands glide to the top of my denims, popping the button and widen the V to the open and my zipper obligingly widens to my panties.

  His large body looms over my own and when I realize what he'll do I tense.

  “I—you can't do this.”

  I can feel his smile in the dark. “I can smell what you want, female.”

  “Grace,” I say softly, wanting to cry.

  “No tears, Grace. This is what I am meant to be for you.”

  I can't close my legs and the horrible part is—I don't want to.

  “Let me worship you female—bring you pleasure. This is part of bonding you to me.”

  I don't know that I can make this switch in my life. He's managed to soak my panties just from his touch on every part of my body but the critical areas. My little brother is supposedly safe.

  Then there's Enforcer Murphy. What had I felt with him?

  Conrick's hand suddenly covers the mound of my sex and I jerk with the restraints as a sigh escapes my lips.

  Heat travels between his flesh to the thin cotton of my panties.

  “I have touched nothing but your lips.”

  That's a technicality.

  “I've not offered violence. I rescued you from becoming a vampire—from being raped and force-bred by the Mutables.”

  Distaste fills his tone.

  “Does this mean that I owe you?” I ask.

  His fingers gently pry my labia apart and my clit stands at attention, begging to be touched and I bite my lip to keep the soft cry lodged in my throat from escaping.

  Conrick's seduced me without trying.

  “You owe me nothing. A pureblood female is rare. Every male of the First Species who could scent you would have taken you. Not to use you, Grace—to save you from harm.” His fingertips brush the sensitive bundle of nerves at my center and my hips hike, seeking more.

  I'm mortified, but that's not enough to stop my body's reaction to him. Why am I not thinking straight?

  Conrick is a mind-reader. “Do not be frightened by your body's reaction to me. Your body knows my touch. We're made to be together, Grace.”

  I try once more, “What about Enforcer Murphy.” I trap his fingers and he begins a lazy, tight circle around my clit and I melt under his touch.

  “He is bound by his job. That is to get you to a vampire Turner to be transitioned. However, that is not your true destiny. It's a waste of your potential to simply be a vampire.”

  His warm breath bathes my sex and I realize his face is only slightly above his fingers as they swirl through the fabric of my panties.

  I want this.

  I want him.

  But my mouth won't open to have him do exactly what my body craves.

  “Let me kiss you, Grace.”

  Tugging at my restraints I tell him, “I can't respond.”

  “You don't need to.”

  I hold my breath for a handful of seconds. “Okay,” I say, as a dull flush covers me from head to toe.

  My panties are torn from my hips with a jerk that leaves me gasping.

  Tenderness is gone as Conrick presses his lips to my bare pussy, sucking my clit deeply into his mouth.

  I cry out, my spread legs trembling as he sucks and swirls with his tongue.

  His hands move underneath my rear and hitch my hips up so he can bury his mouth deeper within my folds and I sigh, alternately tensing and relaxing with each swipe and lap of his tongue—each flat press against my clit.

  “May I put my finger inside you, Grace.”

  My back flattens against the warm stone as I lift my hips higher. My wordless answer spurs him on and a gentle long finger inserts itself deeply inside me and I squirm, wanting more—hating myself that I would.

  I'm sopping wet and groan as he begins to pump inside me while lathing my folds, sucking first one side and then the other. Heat begins to build, climbing from my curled toes to my core.

  “Come for me, Grace—it is your pleasure I seek. Let me taste your sweetness.”
/>
  His words spoken against my fevered flesh causes me to explode and great pulses turn me inside out as I scream into the air. Conrick gently parts me wider and taking out his finger, his hot tongue plunges inside and a second orgasm chases the first.

  My scream is a hoarse shout of pleasure and release.

  He laps at my entrance, catching each wonderful surge of my orgasm until I'm trembling a satiated.

  Conrick's hands glide up my sweat-slicked torso and cup my full breasts, tracing my erect nipples with a featherweight touch. I shake inside his hold though it's warm and he chuckles.

  “This is what it is to be my mate, Grace.”

  I can't speak, I'm spent and tired and confused. And have never been more pleasured in my life.

  His hands slide from my skin and I panic. I'm tied down and it's dark.

  “Don't be afraid.”

  A hiss and a spark sound from my left and a candle illuminates the space.

  Despite how I should feel ashamed of my nakedness and allowing a stranger to have me, I'm still curious about where I am.

  But my shock is so profound I suddenly don't care.

  It's Conrick who stands in front of me—but not. My eyes run over a body that's so heavily muscled it's a wonder he can move with all that mass. Not cut muscle—but like a Spartan—a warrior. Gone is the downy chocolate hair of his bigfoot form, though Sondra had been wrong, the First Species didn't fit that crude mold, but were more like a refined, human-primate form.

  This new form is delicious. All male but rugged. His hair is dark, with deep brown eyes and a square jaw. My eyes work their way down to the tight V of his hips and a single, jet black line of hair trailing beneath the black pants I'd seen on him before.

  The ghost of his face was always hidden in the strong features of the half-man, half-gorilla form. It's as though the primate has melted away to reveal only the man.

  “What—what are you?”

  Conrick smiles, slowly running his tongue along his mouth that just moments before, held the juices of my arousal. “I am First Species.”

  I nod. “Yeah,” I tug at my restraints again and he begins to untie first one, then moving around the stone tableau to remove the rest.

  I watch him while he works in silence. Finally he says, “This is my human form.” His eyes meet mine. “It is not as easily maintained as the gorillan.”

  “Gorilla?” I murmur. I let an ape go down on me? Silently, I kinda die. Great going, Grace .

  His laughter is soft. Secretive. “I do not wish to hurt you. First Species can only have relations with females while in this form.” He glides a palm down his body.

  My eyes stagger over the sizable erection he has that tents his silky black pants.

  Don't ask, Grace. “Why?” I feel my forehead scrunch as my brows meet.

  He pauses and the moment grows awkward between us. “Because, as our forms grow larger, the rest of us does as well.”

  Giant. Penis. Fabulous.

  My face heats at the realization that they don't want to kill women they have sex with. Counterproductive.

  I begin to giggle. Then I can't stop.

  Conrick frowns, pegging his strong hands on his hips. “Why are you laughing, female?”

  I clutch my ribs because I can finally move. I sit up, swinging my legs around and grabbing my torn clothes and draping them over my exposed parts. “I'm not laughing at you,” I roar like a hyena. “I'm laughing with you.”

  Conrick's frown morphs into a scowl.

  I hold up a palm. “Really,” I manage to choke through my laughter, “it's funny. My life—what I let you do to me.” Suddenly my laughter becomes tears and I cover my face.

  Warm, flesh-covered steel wraps my body and I cry against this stranger's chest, who is now so much more.

  “Do you let every male do those things?” his voice rumbles against me.

  I shake my head. “I've never let a man do that. Human guys don't really like going down on women. It's a rare man who wants to see a woman get off, Conrick.”

  He frowns. “ʻGet offʼ?”

  I hiccup a laugh and wipe my face, pulling away a little but his large hands cup my shoulders gently.

  His dark gaze is too intense to maintain and I drop my eyes. His bent finger lifts my chin. “It is natural for a female who has pureblood to respond to a male in just that way.” He lifts his shoulder into a shrug. “First Species cannot be compared to a human male. They would squander what we would revere. Females as a whole are held in high regard.” He smiles and the hint of the animal he is shines through that wolfish grin. “Females who carry our blood are so rare we would do nearly anything to protect them.”

  I suck an inhale and shove my wild hair behind my ear. “I want to believe you.”

  “Don't,” Conrick says.

  I jerk my chin up.

  His eyes are serious. “Males must prove themselves to the female. Trust is very important. That is why I had to prove I wouldn't force myself on you when you were at your most vulnerable.”

  That's true. Conrick could have ravaged me like a chick from a cheap romance novel.

  He didn't. If what Conrick says is true, then there must be a grain of truth to what he's saying. But I've never heard of the First Species until he kidnapped me.

  It was Mutables, shifters—vamps. Not a hint of these guys. And now, suddenly, I'm supposed to believe everything he tells me.

  “Okay,” I say slowly, “I don't have a leg to stand on, and I can't explain why I allowed you to,” I look down, shame dropping my chin and whisper, “do those things to me.” I force my gaze to meet his. “I'm going to try and give this a chance, even though you took me from my friend's house and an enforcer.” I raise my eyebrows.

  Conrick's smile is cocky. “We do not conform to the laws of humans.”

  “Clearly,” I reply in a dry voice. But bounty enforcers are another brand of humans. I think of Murphy—or non-human.

  He places his hands on my bare thighs and my breath hitches. “Acquiring and saving you from an uncertain end of possible depravity was more important than pissing off the human law.”

  Conrick straightens with a smirk and stretches out his arm, palm facing the stone ceiling.

  Flickers from the candlelight paint uncertain shapes of shadows over his face.

  But his eyes are bright. On me.

  I bite my lip, hopping off the edge of the tableau, my bare ass chilling in the air.

  He opens his palm, stretching his arm toward me.

  Sliding my hand into Conrick's, I open my mouth to beg for more clothes but he jerks a scrap of material off a forged hook that pierces the stone and wraps it around me.

  The lightweight cream-colored material floats around my body and I cinch the wide, soft cloth beneath my armpits and feel the millionth flush course over my body as Conrick's hot gaze travels my body.

  “This will warm you until Libby and Corine can get you something more suitable.” His lips quirk and it's in that moment I realize Conrick has a sense of humor. It's subtle, but there.

  “That'd be great, I don't think the toga look is me.”

  His face is puzzled but when he realizes I'm joking he pulls me against his side and nuzzles the top of my head with his cheek, rubbing along my head like a cat. Scenting me.

  I don't return the affection, my emotions are so screwed up. “I'm worried about Toby.”

  “Do not.” His had cups my skull, smoothing over my hair. “First Species do not harm children.” His voice drips with disdain and I'm suddenly uncomfortable. I shouldn't be. This guy tore me away from the highest from of law we humans have. He tied me down in the dark.

  Conrick also made me come. Twice. My lips curl into a smile against my will.

  I guess... I can see what will happen.

  Chapter 6

  Murphy

  The prehistoric's name is Jacob—Jac for short. We can't shake him. Seems like a good sort, we simply don't have time for tag-alongs.

&n
bsp; “Listen—I'm certain you're a good sort,” I begin aloud, running a hand through the mess of my hair and taking a covert glance at the gore drying on my middle. I lift the fabric away from my belly and it tears, a patch remaining where the buffalo stuck me.

  Bollocks.

  “But, my colleague and I must get after our target.”

  His face falls.

  “You're a Prehistoric?” Mollie asks, absently touching her belly, noticing there's no hole there anymore and shooting me a scathing look.

  I grin back, nothing like gratefulness. “There's no crying over spilt milk, love.”

  “No shit,” Mollie mutters, rolling her eyes.

  Jac looks between the two of us, his expressive eyes wide. “Yeah. There's always one of us who infiltrates the Mutable colony.”

  Mollie's eyes bulge. “They're repulsive, what could possibly possess you to put yourself in that nest of vipers.”

  Jac smiles, an eyebrow quirking. “Nicely put.”

  “Yes, what would a fella such as yourself find attractive being around a bunch of vagrant supes.” I plant my legs wide, folding my arms across my chest. But my skin sticks to the mess of my shirt and I drop my arms again.

  Jac blinks. “It's about the females, Enforcer Murphy,” he says slowly as though I'm daft.

  I put my hands on my hips. “We all like the ladies.”

  “Not all,” Jac admits.

  Mollie stares. Clears her throat as the implication hits home. “You're telling me that you're a gay woolly mammoth who hides among the Mutables in the hopes of acquiring females?”

  “Yup,” Jac admits, rocking back on his heels, then directly falling on his ass.

  I stride to Jac, hauling him to his feet. “How have you managed to hide from them? You don't seem especially self-possessed.”

  Jac dusts off his filthy pants, his lips lifting in a rueful smile. “It's crap duty, but if a female is scouted who possesses prehistoric blood, she can easily be scented and we'll take her.”

  Mollie taps her chin. “So let me get this straight. You're being penalized in a way.”

  Jac nods. “Not a lot of room in my clan for gay shifters.” He shrugs like it's his lot and he's resigned to it. “They're not real common. I just scout and ring the bell when a female's found.”