Netherworld: Drop Dead Sexy

by Tracy St. John

  Slowly, slowly, I enclosed as much of Dan’s length in my mouth as I could, one hand gripping the base of him while I caressed his balls with the other. I reversed course, rubbing the pulsing vein below with my tongue. He groaned as I took him again and again and again.

  I could have pleasured him forever. I loved the feeling of his hands tangled in my hair, occasionally pressing my head down to envelope him more than I was completely comfortable doing. When I’d softly gag, he’d groan, “Good girl.” He’d give me a few safe strokes to recover before pushing me down too far again. I’d known a few guys who had the throat-choke fetish. Dan was pretty tame in comparison, and I didn’t mind him enjoying his mastery. I knew if I asked him to stop, he would.

  I didn’t want him to stop.

  I varied the speed of my work, getting him to where he continuously moaned, and then slowing to prolong the experience. I hadn’t noted much when it came to body heat among us dead, but Dan felt very hot in my mouth. Hot and hard and smooth and wonderful.

  And alive. It’s true that sex is one of the most life-affirming of acts. I certainly felt I still belonged to the mortal coil right now. No wonder the dead were so enthralled with getting laid as much as they could.

  Dan suddenly gripped my upper arms, pulling me up to my feet. “On the bed. On all fours,” he gasped, his eyes glazed.

  I obeyed, fighting back a grin at the state I’d put him in as I positioned myself in the middle of the bed. Dan kneeled behind me, and I readied for a desperately driving cock to plunge in.

  He shocked me by tracing my slit with a gentle finger instead. “So wet,” he sighed. “You really like sex, don’t you baby girl?”

  “Yes Sir,” I answered. I shivered at the light touch inflaming my already avid pussy. I’d given him some really good oral, and I was surprised he maintained enough control to play with me rather than take what his body ached for. Not that I was complaining.

  His fingers explored me slowly, investigating every soft fold, discovering the tenderness of each petal of my sweetest flesh. A fine tremble started in my arms, and I began to wish for more. I wanted him to touch my clit. To bury his fingers inside me. I thrust back at him, trying to enfold those clever digits in my body.

  I jumped when his palm cracked against one butt cheek. “Stay still, baby girl,” he ordered. “It’s my turn to play with you now.”

  I shuddered and something warm and electrifying zinged through my lower parts. “Yes Sir,” I whimpered.

  He spread the lips of my sex wide, allowing him to continue his careful exploration even deeper. I bit my lip at the tortuous examination, my hands clutching the soft bedspread. Dan’s excruciating attentions brought me close to the brink, allowing me to peek over the cliff’s edge without actually going over. I wanted him to fling me down into the abyss below. I’ve heard orgasm described as ‘the little death’. I wanted it in all its sweet oblivion, dismembering me in tearing ecstasy.

  I could feel my nether parts swelling under Dan’s attention, everything he touched growing more sensitive by the second. Jeez, I was so close, but he kept me at that tip-top point, perfectly balanced where I couldn’t fall into sweetness. Maybe if I begged he’d have mercy? I was getting desperate.

  “Please Sir, may I come?”

  “Hush, Brandilynn. Stay still and stay quiet.”

  I bit off a groan with the most tremendous of efforts.

  Dan’s finger moved close to my clit, and I stiffened at the bolt of pleasure that suffused my lower body. Almost … but not quite enough. He prodded around the pert nubbin, circling it with a slow, firm pressure that made me cross-eyed. No moving. No sound. No climaxing. I felt deliciously miserable under his control.

  “Your pussy is as red as a strawberry and swollen, baby girl,” Dan chuckled. “You must be in hell right now.”

  I dared to whimper.

  “You’re going to be so hot and tight around my cock,” he goaded me. His finger continued to make slow, lazy circles around my aching clit. I was on fire there, and desperation grew by the second. Any moment now I would disobey him, whether to beg for release or provide my own. I didn’t want to defy him, but a girl can only take so much.

  I shook all over, and Dan’s throaty chuckle shivered up my spine. “All right, baby girl. I’m starting to hurt like hell myself. But you may not come until I tell you, and when you do, you will be silent about it.”

  Silent? Oh jeez, I’m a screamer. This was going to be so hard. But with the promise of climax on the horizon, I would do whatever he wanted.

  His thick, muscled thighs between mine were a relief. I was thanking the cosmos when he plunged his rigid length deep in me. He buried himself with one powerful thrust, his hands gripping my hips to keep me from falling on my face. I stopped myself from shrieking at the burst of pain just in time.

  I swore he might come up out through my mouth. Dan held still as my tight sheath fought to absorb the thickness and length of him. At last my clenched muscles relaxed from the shock of the sudden impalement. And oh my heavens, he felt good again. So good I thought my head might explode.

  Feeling me loosen, Dan began his thrusts, taking me with long, slow strokes. He found the nest of nerves within my sleeve more often than not, and a spasm warned me I was about to lose control. I couldn’t. He hadn’t given permission yet. Oh heaven help me.

  Think yucky. Spiders. A maggot-filled cheeseburger. Osama Bin Laden in drag.

  It wasn’t working. Dan’s sweet friction, moving in and out hard, became my entire world. Another long, slow flex of my womb warned me I would lose complete control any second now. My insides quaked.

  No. I couldn’t. He’d said no. Oh please. Oh please…

  “Silently. Now, Brandilynn.” Dan reached down and rubbed my clit.

  A blast of white-hot lightning enveloped my world, a nuclear explosion of earth-shattering strength. All I knew was the heaving detonation and the brutal effort of keeping my teeth clenched against the shrieks that wanted to pour from my throat. On and on came endless upsurges of ecstatic fury, ripping, tearing, laying me to silent waste. My eyes stung with tears as the orgasm raged through my straining body, leaving me in glorious dissolution.

  I fell to my elbows, burying my face in the bedspread as I sobbed. Lesser pulses rode me as Dan groaned above me, lost in his own pleasure. His cock pulsed rhythmically, setting off a few stronger spasms in my core again before the furor finally abated.

  Good golly Miss Molly. I thought maybe I could love this man. But could I love him enough to pledge to be his one-and-only?

  It’s supremely unfair to think about another man when Dan had done me so well. Still, with the ‘L’ word floating around my skull in the aftermath of our interlude, I thought about Tristan. About giving him up and swearing myself to Dan. Fear mixed uneasily with the heat in my belly.

  No. I wasn’t quite ready for that after all.

  A knock on the door rescued me from heavy thinking. Quick as a flash, we were dressed again and on our feet.

  “Who is it?” Dan called. He winked at me and whispered, “One thing about being dead is I never sound out of breath after sex. As long as you get rid of that blush, no one will have a clue.”

  I blushed? Sheesh.

  From the other side of the door, Tristan’s cultured tones rolled over me. “It’s me and Patricia. Can we come in?”

  Dan grimaced for a split second before his expression smoothed over. “Sure.”

  Tristan walked through the door, his sister right behind him. My eyes widened. We could do that? Then why did Dan always get a key and open the door?

  That question faded as I looked at Patricia in her non-vampire guise. The sharp coldness of her eyes had disappeared, replaced by calm patience. When she looked at Tristan, I could feel the devotion almost physically.

  I knew in her era, women had usually worn dresses. Patricia wore pants; nice slacks and a blouse with pearl buttons and lace on the collar. She looked like a black-haired Katherine Hepburn, c
irca 1930. Her strength was very much evident, but it was a softer, gentler attitude compared to the pure huntress her vampire side wore.

  I didn’t have long to muse over Patricia’s ghost versus vampire appearance. Tristan came right up to me to cup my chin and press a gentle kiss to my lips. “You’re all right?”

  I didn’t dare look at Dan. “Barely. A witch almost disemboweled me.”

  Dan put an arm around my waist. Darn it, the men were doing that territorial chest-thumping thing after all. But to give my Marlboro Man credit, his tone stayed even. “Her killer tried to have her kidnapped. He’s got a witch named Erica Ford and some unsavory spirits helping him out.”

  Tristan scowled, anger lighting his handsome face. He gathered my hands in his, as if he could protect me with his touch alone. “I’ve already dispatched someone to clear the library and ward it against further attacks. I’ll also consult with all my assistants tonight to figure out how we can keep you protected, Brandilynn.”

  Patricia paced the room. “I guess we know what happened to the other girl who disappeared. The bastard must have her.”

  Tristan nodded, his eyes dark with fear for me. Gosh, he looked really worried. It made me feel warm, but also guilty. I’d just made love to Dan. My relationships with the two men were getting complicated, even for me.

  “This is bad,” Tristan said, and for a moment I thought he referred to our lover’s triangle. But no, he commented on the subject of my killer trying to catch me. To both Patricia and Dan he said, “Brandilynn is not to be left alone for any reason. I want her accompanied at all times.”

  That earned nods of acquiescence. With that bit of conversation at a successful conclusion, I switched topics.

  “You’re going to have company tonight. Those FBI agents working on the Ripper case want to question you.”

  Tristan nodded. “I was expecting that.”

  “You knew they would because you’ve claimed my body. Why did you do that?”

  He blinked at me as if I’d just asked something obvious, like why the moon comes out at night. “So you can have a proper funeral and burial. That’s what one does for those who are important to him.”

  “Oh.” Still feeling warm. I wondered if Dan would have done the same, had he been able to. I thought he might. Oh boy, I had issues. “Thank you.”

  Tristan smiled at me. “It was my idea, but I have to be honest and admit Patricia will handle most of the details. She’s much better with these sorts of things.”

  That was okay. Happy, warm, fuzzy feeling didn’t diminished one bit. Tristan was an important man who no doubt delegated a lot of duties to his staff.

  I turned my attention to his sister. She gave me a kind smile. Again it struck me how different her persona as a ghost differed from when she was a vampire.

  Patricia asked, “Is there something special you’d like done or said at your service? Any particular branch of religion you want to perform the rites?”

  I shook my head. “My family is Episcopalian, but I always believed God wasn’t terribly particular about the flavor of worship. Keep it simple. No one is going to show up anyway.”

  I dropped my eyes, but I caught the flash of sympathy that crossed her face. I refused to get upset. I refused to cry. No do-overs. I swore to be fine with that.

  Tristan’s hands suddenly tightened on mine, and I looked up to see him and Patricia standing stiff, as if they’d been electrified. They both stared into space as if they’d just seen – well, a ghost.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. I couldn’t see what had made them react so strongly. They stared in different directions.

  Dan pulled me back, gently freeing me from Tristan’s grasp. “It’s nightfall. Their bodies are calling them to return.

  I watched wide eyed as Tristan and Patricia slowly faded, their bodies becoming insubstantial, much like the wraiths Dan had turned Erica’s goons into. In a few seconds, they were completely gone.

  “They’ve returned to their bodies,” Dan told me. “I’d like to see what those FBI agents have to say to Tristan. Want to go down to the ballroom and see what’s up with the vampire world?”

  So that’s what we did.

  * * * *

  Upon entering the ballroom, or as I was beginning to think of it, Para Central, I noticed right away no vampires were present. The room contained only weres and a couple of gargoyles, with the exception of Lana and Augustus. The two non-shifters huddled deep in conversation with Eddie the werehog and Gerald the werepanther. Seeing Augustus again thrilled me. Griffins are so darn cool in person.

  “No sign of Tristan,” I commented as we walked down the center aisle where Lana and Augustus waited next to the head honchos’ desks.

  “He’ll be a little while yet. Vampires wake up hungry.” Dan paused here and there, taking time to peer at computer readouts and soak in a little energy from the equipment. I took a small hit of power myself, quitting as soon as my fingertips started to tingle.

  Dan’s comment bothered me a little. “Does he, um, take directly from people, or does he drink the packaged stuff?”

  Bottled blood fed the majority of vampires since many humans had the same prejudices against them that I did. Offering yourself to the bloodsuckers wasn’t illegal, but most mortals of good breeding frowned on it. Not to mention vampires had been known to lose control and kill their donors. Still, some vampires attracted blood groupies despite the bias and danger. The most popular bloodsuckers were rock and rap musicians, along with movie stars.

  Blood Potion No. 9 was the biggest seller among vamps when they couldn’t find blood groupies. Certified to be free of disease and impurities, the parent company collected blood from paid donors who went through rigorous medical testing. Not that vampires caught blood-borne illnesses from the living. It’s the same idea of drinking spring water from a bottle when what comes out of the tap is perfectly fine. Vamps could get cheaper bags of blood from the convenience and grocery stores, but the black-bottled Blood Potion No. 9 brand was the number one seller by far. It outsold everything else even before the recent rash of blood pouches tainted with lethal dragon blood had led to a dozen vampire deaths across the southeast United States. Chalk one up for great marketing.

  Dan snorted at the thought of the county commissioner guzzling his sustenance from a bottle. “Tristan has no lack of donors willing to feed him fresh from the spring.”

  So even a small-town politician rated live bleeders. How interesting. And gross. “A poetic way of putting it. Does it taste better to them that way?”

  Dan’s smile was indulgent bordering on condescending. I thought about smacking him on general principles. “Drinking blood directly from the source isn’t something vampires talk about much. It’s like asking you for a detailed account of your sexual encounters, so yes, I’d say it’s much better to bite into a human than sipping blood from a pouch or bottle.”

  I made him stop and face me. “Are you saying Tristan is probably having sex with whoever he’s chomping on right now?”

  “He’s definitely doing that.” Dan’s eyebrows rose. “Jealous?”

  My nose tilted in the air. “Why would I be? He’s not my boyfriend. Even if he was, he’s not the same man when he’s a vampire.”

  Dan looked at me for a full five seconds, clearly not buying what I had to say. But it was the truth. I no more wanted Tristan as a vampire than I did the Judge.

  Double eww and shudder on the Judge.

  Dan finally released me from the evaluating stare and continued towards the end of the room. “Lana looks upset. Let’s see what that gang has their heads together about over there.”

  We joined the little group, and to my delight Augustus immediately acknowledged me. “Welcome to friends old and new,” he squawked.

  Lana closed her eyes, her usual smile nowhere present. “It’s Dan and Brandilynn.” Opening her eyes again, she spoke to the air over my left shoulder. “Bad news. Another escort has disappeared. She wasn’t from the same s
ervice you worked for, Brandilynn, so I don’t know if you were acquainted with her. Vesta Canody?”

  “I didn’t know her. But that’s awful.” I sighed unhappily, and Augustus bumped his head against my arm. I buried my fingers in his white feathers, taking refuge in the softness.

  Lana continued her grim news. “Taylor is already out looking for her body. I just wanted to report to Tristan before I join her. Dan, can you come too? In case she’s staying near her body?”

  Dan slowly shook his head despite the turmoil on his face. “Brandilynn is in danger. I have to stick with her.”