Mariah’s stomach quivered with queasiness as she stared down at the man Emmy brought close. For this, she didn’t need any instruction. Instinct alone guided her toward his neck. She bent nearer to the thudding beat just beneath his skin and licked it with her tongue, just as she remembered Viper doing to her. No need to make this any more painful for him. After all, he was about to fill her mouth with needed blood.
She turned her head and dug her canines into his neck, then gasped as warm blood spurted into her mouth in a rush—so fast, she forgot to swallow. Some of it flowed over her chin. She was making a muck of it, and she really shouldn’t waste a drop. Not when the rich liquid was so warm and tasted so divine, like pennies and salt, and so thick it slid straight down her throat. Laying her lips against his skin, she sucked, loving the wheezing sound she made as she drew. Like a baby on a nipple, only this wasn’t so innocent. She was drawing blood from a living man.
Not that he didn’t love it. She sensed his arousal, had seen the jut of his cock against his trousers before she’d taken him. And didn’t he deserve something in return for his gift? Thinking about his cock, she imagined how it would look in her fist, how she’d stroke it to completion, pulling on it over and over until he came.
The man gasped, and she sensed movement below. His body undulated in shallow waves until he groaned. The scent of his ejaculate permeated the air.
Mariah murmured her shared pleasure and continued to draw, more slowly now, because her belly was getting full.
Then she felt a tap on her shoulder. Reluctantly, she withdrew her teeth, but noted that blood still spurted from the gouges she’d made, so she licked at his skin, marveling at how quickly the punctures closed.
When she was done, she glanced up to find Emmy standing close, her expression watchful, maybe even wary. “I must look a gory mess,” Mariah said, and used the back of her hand to swipe at the blood on her chin.
“How do you feel?” Emmy asked.
“Amazing.” Mariah glanced at the man who was now beginning to list to the side. “Oh no,” she whispered. “Did I take too much?”
“Are you worried you took too much?” Emmy said.
The blonde’s words were spoken so slowly that Mariah knew she was trying to tell her something. “Of course, I’m worried. Look at him. He’s about to fall over.”
“Look at his pants,” Emmy said, one brow lifted. “I think you just gave him the mother of all orgasms.”
A large wet spot stained the front of his trousers. As she stared, his cock pushed upward again. She shot a glance at his face and felt relief she’d given him pleasure. Even nearly passing out, he was smiling, vapidly.
“I’m guessing he’ll be quicker to volunteer the next time,” Emmy murmured.
Chapter Nine
‡
“Get off me!”
Viper’s irritated tone caught Mariah’s attention. Dylan and Quentin still held him.
Savage rage made his skin red, and Mariah wasn’t sure whether all of it was directed at the two males or at her for what she’d done. “You did say vamps rarely remain monogamous,” she reminded him, loving the way her words ticked up his fury. She licked at her lips for another taste of her donor’s blood. “I can see how not giving into the lust would be hard.”
“No one fucks you but me.”
She rolled her eyes. “This wasn’t fucking, Viper. It was just feeding, right?”
“You just gave him the ‘mother of all orgasms’!”
Now she understood his problem. “Babe, I promise there’s plenty more where that came from.”
Emmy’s muffled snickers sounded behind her. Dylan and Quentin laughed.
Viper shrugged out of their hold and stomped toward her. He didn’t stop until his chest nudged hers and pushed her backward.
She took one step, then another, until the backs of her knees met the bed. Looking into his dark, hooded eyes, she sucked in a breath, her heart fluttering wildly. He was barely holding the leash on his inner beast. Inside her, she felt hers rouse. She groaned as the bones of her forehead and cheeks began to crack and move. The change wasn’t exactly painful, but it did give her a moment’s concern as her mind stopped cataloguing sensations in any articulate way.
Now, lust, full-bodied and impossible to contain, roared through her. Or did she roar? Didn’t matter. She needed her mouth on his skin, his dick in her body. Now. Distantly, she heard the shuffling of footsteps and gave a growl to hurry them along, all the while keeping her gaze locked on the vampire scowling down at her whose own face and body went through changes.
Viper shook his head and snarled. Then reached out and flung her to the bed.
She landed on her belly and shifted her hips to roll, but he stopped her. The sound of clothing tearing, the feel of a long scratch down her back that caused wetness to run in a rivulet to one side, sent her into lustful rage. She bucked and struck behind her with her hands, but he was already on top of her, already pushing inside, and she howled as his fat cock tunneled in deep, successive strokes. When he was fully embedded, she spread her legs and pushed to her knees, carrying his weight on her back as his hands gripped her hips and he fucked harder and faster.
Words were lost. Whimpers intermixed with pants were the only sounds she could manage as he hammered into her body. When he bent over her and raked the tips of his fangs along her shoulder, she screamed, knowing he’d bite and the pain would be more than she could take. When he did, he dropped his forearm in front of her face and she latched on, sinking her teeth into his skin and sucking hard. Still, he thrust hard, jarring her body, driving the wind from her lungs. Then light exploded behind her eyes, and she dragged away her teeth and gave an anguished cry.
His embrace was crushing as he nuzzled her neck and shoulder, his cheek sliding in slippery blood.
But she didn’t care. Her face no longer felt thick. Her teeth were dull. She lay with her face mashed against the bedding, his arms surrounding her, and she never wanted him to let go.
In a languid swipe, his tongue stroked her broken skin. “Sorry about that.”
“I didn’t mind the pain.”
“I’m talking about the mess.”
She laughed. “I imagine we’ll have plenty of bloody sheets. Remind me to never buy white.”
“I was afraid,” he whispered, his grip tightening.
“So was I, but I was more afraid of not being a part of your life, Viper.”
He unwound his arms, and she rolled to face him. Their bodies naturally folded together, her thigh between both of his, her breasts pressed against his broad chest, and her head resting on a thick bicep.
Viper thumbed her chin. “We’ll have to shower. When it dries, that blood’s going to itch.”
“I’d like a bath. A long, leisurely one. And a mirror. I want to watch my face change—see just how hideous I am.”
His mouth slid into a one-sided smirk. “My beast thought yours was beautiful.”
Mariah smiled. “My beast only wanted your cock.” She bit her lip. “Sex has always been great with you, but that…”
“Yeah…” His smile warmed, but then faded. “I don’t want you joining the battle.”
“I’m not a fighter, but we all have to choose sides. No one’s going to be safe.”
His brows wrinkled. “For years, I was okay, knowing you weren’t touched by any of this.”
“And yet, you didn’t take my memories…”
Grimacing, he closed his eyes. “I was weak.”
She cupped the side of his face. “Babe, love doesn’t make you weak. It gives you a reason to fight.”
He drew a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes. “I’ll always love you.”
“I fell in love with you twice. That should tell you something.” A yawn caught her by surprise. “So sleepy. Exhaustion just hit me,” she said, her mouth stretching again around another wide yawn.
“It’s dawn. Get used to it.” He pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. “Remember,
if you wake before I do, there’s raw steak in the fridge in the kitchen. It’ll do in a pinch.”
With her eyelids already dipping downward, she wrinkled her nose. “I’d rather have more security guard.”
His chest rocked against hers in silent laughter.
*
All the women, except for Quentin’s woman, Darcy, were gathered in the kitchen after shooing Inigo out of the room. They stood scattered at counters and the table, busy preparing the first meal after waking.
Viper sat with the “husbands” group, feeling as though he’d joined some kind of club now that he had Mariah in his life for good. Their camaraderie no longer irritated him. He was in full commiseration with the men as they eavesdropped on the ladies from the comfort of the security room in Navarro’s basement. Especially since the women were talking about him and Mariah’s broken vampire cherry.
“My first time, I nearly ate a pizza delivery guy alive, and then I was all over Dylan,” Emmy said, sighing. “Or he was all over me. He didn’t like how I got the boy off.”
Mariah shot her a shy glance. “Did you think about it…? Doing it with him?”
Emmy laughed. “Honey, if Dylan wasn’t such a jealous prick—love him to death, but it’s the truth—I’d have strayed once or twice. But I don’t ever break the ‘No fucking my meals’ rule.”
Dylan growled. “I’ll show her my damn prick.”
“Still leaves lots of room to play, though,” Sidney said, grinning.
Navarro drew a sudden deep breath. “The women need to learn a little discipline.”
Quentin sighed. “I miss seeing Darcy among the other wives. She was usually the chief instigator.”
“After my Emmy, you mean,” Dylan quipped, but he shot Quentin a look that said he sympathized with Quentin’s situation.
Viper had heard their relationship was strained, and that a former wife, who was a witch, had been involved in the entire mess. He couldn’t imagine things ever getting so bad between him and Mariah that they couldn’t talk past their problems. He’d given in on the issue of her turning, hadn’t he?
Mariah bit her lip. “I won’t cross any lines, no matter how tempting. Mental fucks don’t count, do they?”
Emmy began to giggle. Sidney snorted. Which deepened Emmy’s cackles until she was bent over and clutching her sides.
Mariah’s smile stretched, and then she too giggled. Before long, Sidney and Melanie were right there with them. All the women clutched each other’s shoulders to hold themselves up as they laughed.
The men spying on them chuckled, too. Navarro reached out, tapped a key to end the feed, and then turned his chair. “We’re all in a good place.”
Viper knew what he meant. They all had partners they loved, and lives they cherished.
He glanced at Viper. “I’m happy for you, I truly am. Inconvenient as it is having Sidney to worry about, I’m not sure I’d care as much about the fight to come.”
His words echoed Mariah’s. They were both right. Viper’d give everything he had to see her live in a safer world.
Quentin stepped closer and patted his shoulder. “Time for us to put aside old grievances.” His glance shot to Dylan.
Dylan grimaced. “Yeah, you didn’t actually harm Emmy. You’d already be dead if that were true. What’s past is past. We have to have each others’ backs.”
Viper nodded. “I’m in. All in. Whatever it takes.”
“Reinforcements will arrive soon,” Navarro said. “Clean out your den. I don’t have enough room here for the wolves.”
“I’ll handle it tonight.” His crew would have to find new digs, although he was sure Ginnie would insist on remaining. The house had been her parents’ before they’d been killed by some of Zachary’s new recruits. But she’d have to learn to cohabit with the wolves. He smiled, thinking about having to break that news to his surly progeny.
Navarro stood first, the rest followed.
Viper chuckled. “Yeah, we’d better head to the kitchen before Melanie tells the ladies how she popped a certain cherry.”
Moses shook his head. “Never gonna live that down, am I?”
Viper put his hand on Moses’s shoulder as they walked. “You’re married to a succubus, dude. I’ll never get that picture out of my mind.”
The men were still laughing at Moses’s discomfort as they entered the kitchen.
The women, all looking guilty as hell, gave them smiles.
Mariah hurried to his side. “Dinner’s not ready yet.”
“Think I’ll pass on the steak tartare.” He bent toward her ear, inhaling her scent. “Would you like to join me for a live meal? I have business to attend to. You can come with.”
Her eyes sparkled. “I’m game for whatever you have in mind. Maybe we could share?”
Frowning, Viper shook his head in mock disapproval. At the moment, his heart felt too full to house any worry. His aching loneliness was banished…forever. “We created a monster.”
With a grin, she rolled her eyes. “Tell me your gums aren’t already itching just thinking about sharing our dinner.”
They were. Not that he’d ever admit the fact. Best to harness her expectations, for now. “Let’s go, baby.”
Minutes later, they were flying through the lamplit streets. Neither wore helmets. He smiled as she released his waist to raise her arms above her head, enjoying the heady freedom from fear and rules. Soon enough, they’d have to buckle down to face what was coming. But for now, he’d show her what it meant to live as a vampire.
About Delilah Devlin
Delilah Devlin is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of erotica and sexy romance with a rapidly expanding reputation for writing deliciously edgy stories with complex characters. She has published over a hundred seventy erotic stories in multiple genres and lengths, and she is published by Atria/Strebor, Avon, Berkley, Black Lace, Cleis Press, Ellora’s Cave, Grand Central, Harlequin Spice, HarperCollins: Mischief, Kensington, Kindle, Kindle Worlds, Montlake Romance, Running Press, and Samhain Publishing.
You can find Delilah all over the web:
WEBSITE
BLOG
TWITTER
FACEBOOK FAN PAGE
PINTEREST
Subscribe to her newsletter so you don’t miss a thing!
Or email her at: [email protected]
If you love sexy vampires, shifters, and other creatures that go bump in the night, check out the rest of Delilah’s Night Fall series!
Sm{B}itten
Truly, Madly…Deadly
Knight in Transition
Wolf in Plain Sight
Knight Edition
Night Fall on Dark Mountain
Frannie and the Private Dick
Sweet Succubus
Silent is the Knight
Enjoy an excerpt from another sexy shifter story, Bad Moon Rising…
“Wah-ah-ah-ah!”
DiDi Devereaux bounced her head to David Draiman’s gorilla-like chant. After she’d turned onto the small county road in a Louisiana bayou, she’d popped her Disturbed CD in the player. She liked listening to hard rock when she wrote a fight scene or needed a little courage. Raucous, masculine music rarely failed to rev her engines.
Unfortunately, the music wasn’t working its magic now.
Her headlights barely cut through the thick fog, forcing DiDi to ease off the accelerator as she peered over the steering wheel at the narrow donkey trail of a road. Twenty minutes earlier, she’d left the highway and knew she’d entered bayou country by the thick forest pressing against the road from both sides and the air’s muggy quality. She’d rolled down her windows because her AC fogged up the windshield, but she still had to swipe her palms against the glass to clear it enough to continue.
Why she’d decided to finish the journey at night, she didn’t know. But she never questioned an impulse, and never really regretted any of the mishaps she’d fallen into as a result of ignoring good advice. Many of her stories wer
e born from those exact misadventures—and inspiration, of late, had become pretty thin. A road trip was just what she needed to “fill the well”.
On a whim, she’d removed the deed to the Gauthier House from her safe deposit box on Monday after moving her furniture into storage and letting her apartment go. When she’d first contemplated making a change, she’d been torn between seeking a summer rental in the Yukon and heading Down Under.
Then she’d remembered the property she’d inherited three years earlier. A dilapidated house in a section of boggy bayou with a dock that led into the swamps. The lawyer who’d handed her the deed and the keys had told her to sell it—or let it return to the land. No use fighting the age of the place because the restoration would be a money pit.
She’d been satisfied to let the document lay at the bottom of her safety deposit box, beneath her passport and a flash drive that stored every page of every book she’d ever written, just in case catastrophe hit and she had to start all over again. Nothing was more valuable to her than the dreams she’d created on paper, nothing was more meaningful. She’d sacrificed a lot to be where she was, edging toward the top of the bestsellers’ lists and finally getting those lucrative contracts that let her continue to feed her gypsy soul.
Now, she had money to sink into the old plantation house. Enough to pay for remodeling while she plunked away at a keyboard with an iPod in her ears as workers sawed and hammered around her.
She could make this new house work—if she ever found the damn place.
The clerk at the gas station fifteen miles back had told her she’d never find her way in the dark on these back roads, that she’d wind up hopelessly lost and he predicted not until some backwoods Cajun found her car in the swamp would the mystery of her death be solved.
He’d cheered up at that thought, saying he bet 20/20 might pay him for an interview. And the little prick had smirked as he said it. Which only made her mad and even more determined to forge ahead.
Bad to the Bone (Night Fall Book 10) Page 9
