Vampires’ Consort: Magical Ménages, Book 2

by Bonnie Dee

  Grant accepted the sensation with a satisfied grunt, but the wolf broke away, his eyes wide and worried. “Damn!”

  “This is supposed to happen, the three of us together.” Sherrie sounded confident, almost serene. “Can’t you feel it, John? Don’t fear it or fight it.”

  One man claims her by day, another by night. Together they lay claim to her heart.

  Ravenous

  © 2010 Abigail Barnette

  Annabelle Whittington sails toward Jamaica, and marriage to a wealthy plantation owner, on winds of hope. Hope that she hasn’t saved her virginity only to be doomed to proper English wifehood, never to fully satisfy her sexual curiosity. Then the sails of the pirate ship Howling Hades appear on the horizon.

  Captain Galerius’ demands are simple: in exchange for her blood to slake his eternal thirst, and her body to quell his voracious lust, he will guarantee safe passage. Except his motives are less than pure. In his hold is another prisoner, Ian Drummond, who must soon be replaced…with Annabelle.

  But Ian has plans of his own, and they don’t include giving up his lover so easily. And, once he gets a taste of Annabelle’s sweet blend of innocence and boldness, he can’t imagine living without either one of them.

  Annabelle, sensing the tortured soul beneath the monster, refuses to let Galerius intimidate her—and finds an unexpected ally in the infuriating, maddening Ian. As danger threatens the Hades, she is faced with a choice. Return to her life of duty, or embrace her spirit of adventure…and sail the high seas with the men who have captured her heart.

  Warning: Avast! Here be hot vampire pirate lovin’ that won’t be coming to a theater near you any time soon; a comely wench who be givin’ “boring” the old heave-ho. Cool rum drink recommended.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Ravenous:

  Annabelle gasped as Galerius’s mouth covered hers. She pressed her fists against his chest, determined to push him away, willing herself to with every second that passed, but the will of her morals lost out to the will of her body.

  His lips were shockingly cold, and his tongue tasted of wine. Her hands moved from fists to claws as she gripped his shoulders. For a moment, she thought of the fiancé she had not met, the only man who had a right to do this to her, and she felt a stab of guilt. But she did not know him, and she did not know if she was safe at the hands of this pirate, and—

  Yes, that was it! Surely it was not her sinful curiosity that drove her to press harder against Galerius, not the feverish fantasies she indulged in night after night. She did this to protect herself, and to save her life!

  She couldn’t really believe that, could she?

  No.

  She pushed back, caught him unawares so that he released her. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t—”

  “I saw into your mind, Annabelle.” He stalked forward, pulling the robe from his shoulders. “I know what you dream of doing with a man.”

  He could not possibly… She shook her head. “I think of no such thing.”

  “Oh, but you do.” He took her hand and lifted her wrist to his mouth, flicking his tongue over the pulse that leaped there. “And I promise you, there is so much more than what you’ve imagined.”

  When she opened her mouth to protest, all that came out was a whimper.

  Galerius released her arm and stepped back, finger to his lips as though having an epiphany. “Perhaps I am driving too hard a bargain. How about this, then? The next time we are to sail across the sea, I will make it my personal mission to find your betrothed and deliver you safely to him. Do you find that fair?”

  It was too easy, and very suspicious. “Do you often travel across the sea?”

  “Of course. We are pirates, after all.”

  “Fine, then.” Her answer was too easy, and very suspicious as well, but she refused to dwell on it. Still, he had not made a move toward her. “I agree. Proceed.”

  He chuckled, and a hot blush crept up her face. “It would be easier if you took off your gown.”

  “Oh.” She felt foolish and suddenly not as eager to continue with what they had begun. She had supposed she would be naked, but she had imagined it would happen in the heat of passion, as if by magic, so she would not have time to think about it. To remove her clothing now, while he watched her, would be embarrassing and…

  Impossible, she realized. On the boat, Mrs. Grimble had helped her with her stays when she dressed and undressed, and the woman tied such ridiculous little knots. “I can’t,” she said quietly, relief and disappointment mixing in her voice. “I suppose that’s—”

  Before she could finish, he dropped to his knees in front of her and pulled her gown open, flinging pins across the room and ripping her stomacher. Annabelle gasped. She would not deny she had imagined having her clothes torn off in a moment of passion, but in practice it was a bit unnerving. More so when he reached for a knife on the table and pointed it to her midsection. She yelped and jumped back, and he growled, “Be quiet, I won’t hurt you.” A horrible tearing sound alerted her to the demise of the ribbons cinching her corset, and at once she stood in the short shift and drawers beneath. The gasp she uttered then was one of relief, not anticipation.

  A smile curved his mouth, and he tossed the blade aside. “In my day, women did not wear such ridiculous undergarments.”

  “And I shan’t, now,” Annabelle said, but she could not inject appropriate dismay knowing the vile garment was destroyed. “I suppose I will have to make do until we reach Jamaica.”

  “If we reach Jamaica,” he corrected her. “And I don’t want to hear any more talk of it. While you are in my company, you are to think of me, not some far-off man whom you have never met.” He advanced on her, backed her up to the edge of the bunk. “And when you return to him, I guarantee you will still be thinking of me.”

  Her knees turned to water and she collapsed, chest constricting with a mixture of fear and excitement. Her nipples grew tight beneath her shift, the dark pink of them showing prominently against the sheer muslin of the garment. With one hand at the small of her back, he stroked the side of one breast. Her breath hitched, and she knew then why he supported her so. Without his arm strong around her back, she would collapse from sheer delight. His smile was almost a smirk as he lowered his mouth, maddeningly slowly. “My, but you are innocent.”

  “I’m not—” she began to protest, but his lips closed over the peak of one breast through the fabric, and her back arched like a drawn bow. Never had she felt such intense sensation. She had not been able to imagine what this would be like, not properly; she understood that now. The shivers of apprehension and arousal raced toward her most secret place, the part of her she had stroked beneath the covers while indulging in her most naughty fantasies. All from the touch of his mouth. What would happen when— No, she would not think of that. Her skin grew hot just imagining it.

  “It has been a very long time since I’ve had a virgin,” he murmured against her flesh. “The blood is too sweet for my tastes. But I forgot how much fun this is.” His palm snaked beneath her shift, gliding across her belly and up to cup her breast.

  She shuddered as a rush of heat flooded her core, swelling her untouched flesh and setting a nearly unbearable tension there. She pressed her thighs together and arched her back, moaning. Galerius slid up her body to cover her mouth with his again, his hands bunching the shift and raising it. He broke their kiss only long enough to pull the garment over her head and discard it, then pressed her to him again. When her exposed skin met his, she moaned and opened her legs, raising one to hook around his waist.

  He laughed low in his throat and eased her leg back down. “Do not rush me.” His cold, wet mouth moved from hers to kiss her chin, her jaw, suck her earlobe. Annabelle was powerless to do anything but clutch at his shoulders and gasp. He laved a trail down her neck, bit her shoulder gently. He smoothed his hands down her arms, raising gooseflesh there. Every movement he made brought him in contact with a new part of her body, a new part to be set al
ight with sensation. When his mouth closed over her breast again, she shrieked and writhed beneath him. When he stroked her other breast, rolled the nipple between his fingers, she could not breathe.

  All the while, she burned, ached, rubbed against him and bit her lip to stop the senseless pleas that would escape if she tried to speak.

  His body was cold and hard, as if it were carved out of stone, yet somehow he felt alive. His breath chilled the places on her skin where moisture still lingered from his kisses. He moved his attention from one breast to the other. The sensation lost nothing to repetition, and she writhed beneath him.

  Never in her life had Annabelle felt so out of control, so reckless, so…free. All thoughts of being a proper lady fled, though she had not truly cared to act the part of a proper lady to begin with. Still, being loosed from the restraints of what was and wasn’t allowed sent a delicious thrill through her.

  Galerius slid down her body, though she gripped his arms and whimpered for him to stay where he was. He trailed his fingers down her stomach, and the flesh there trembled under his touch. He moved ever closer to the part of her that demanded his attention, sliding the muslin drawers over her hips. She held her breath as the cool air touched her enflamed flesh. She was too exposed, too open to his gaze and touch, in a way no one had seen her before. A pang of anxiety forced her legs together, but his body between them impeded her, and he dropped to his knees in front of the bunk and forced her legs wide apart with a hand on each thigh. The breath she had held rushed out of her in a shuddering moan she could not restrain. Certainly he did not intend to put his mouth on her there…certainly he would not…