And dammit, if her heart didn’t give one too many suspicious bumps at that revelation. She was bought and paid for. She had to remember that this was all this was. Nothing more, nothing less. So he decided to keep her longer than the average woman he brought here. That didn’t mean a thing. What’s more, she didn’t want it to mean anything, did she? There could never be any kind of future between a human and a vampire, no matter how enigmatic and sexy that vamp was. No matter how much her heart beat faster the longer she sat there, reading and daydreaming until the sun started to set. Nope, didn’t mean a thing. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing him again. The only thing she was looking forward to was getting out of here, and he needed to be awake for her to do so. That was all.
Chapter Seven
Atlan woke up with a deep inhale and sat up bolt upright. The satin covers fell down to his naked waist, and he scowled into the darkness surrounding him. He couldn’t even recall having made it to the bed, so Joseph must have pulled off his robe and put him in bed. Soft lighting started to fill the room, the timer set in tune to his waking up, and he blinked slowly, while he stretched his mind to find the one person whose blood still sang in his veins.
He smiled when he found her. He was too far away to make out what she was saying, but she was in the kitchen, of all places, with Agnes.
Of course, she was. Joseph’s wife would be in her element with having female company in the house. Atlan was all too aware of Agnes worrying over him. Over the years he’d watched her grow from chubby baby to freckled, pigtailed tearaway, to blushing bride, and eventually the old woman, who still carried her heart on her sleeve.
He had been all set to let her go. To give her the freedom to live outside of this house once she’d come of age, but Agnes had refused. He’d helped her bury her parents, been in the shadows when she’d married Joseph, witnessed their pain at the multitude of babies they’d lost before they had even been born, and the eventual realization that motherhood was not going to happen to her.
Agnes and Joseph were the closest things to family he’d had, and when he’d have to let them go, he would be truly alone, unless…
Atlan scowled at his thought processes, made short work of freshening up, and once suitably attired for the company, made his way to the kitchens.
The most delicious smells hit his nose the minute he entered. He nodded to Joseph, who looked up from reading his newspaper when he entered and, arms crossed over his chest, leaned against the doorjamb to take in the domestic scene in front of him. Evie was leaning over to take something out of the Aga, and he hardened instantly in his jeans. The loose fabric of the summer dress outlined her ass perfectly, and when she straightened to place the heavy casserole dish on the worktop, her long blonde hair tumbled down her bare back.
Atlan could have kissed whoever designed that dress, because she was clearly braless under the thin fabric, her large rack jiggling delightfully as she moved. With not a speck of makeup on her face, she looked young and good enough to eat. His jaw ached with the need to sink his fangs back into her neck and to claim her all over again.
Agnes threw him a glance, having noticed him, but his little angel was still oblivious to his presence as she took off the lid of the chicken dish and inserted a spoon to taste it.
Her resulting delighted moan made him cross the short distance to her, as she held up the spoon for Agnes to have a taste, too.
“This is delicious, but you tell me whether I got it right.”
“Let me be the judge of that.” Atlan grasped her wrist while he licked the spoon, and Evie jumped.
“Jesus, don’t do that. Where have you come from?”
Her eyes widened, her pupils dilating when he took the spoon off her, dropped it on the worktop, and proceeded to kiss her palm.
“I’ve been standing there a while, admiring the view.” He dropped his gaze slowly down to her front, satisfied beyond all reason to see her breathing increase. Her nipples formed into little hard nubs, clearly visible through the fabric of her dress, and he let his fangs run out.
Evie’s lips parted, and it took every ounce of self-control he possessed to not crush her to him and to kiss her senseless.
Instead, he forced himself to let go of her hand and, turning slightly, address Agnes.
“The food is delicious as always, Agnes, thank you.”
The lines on Agnes’s face deepened as she beamed back at him.
“Oh, I just directed. Evie wanted to help, so she did most of the work. Your girl is a natural in the kitchen.”
Evie’s expressive eyes widened further at being called his girl. Atlan knew he ought to correct that statement, but fuck him if that didn’t sound right. Evie was his girl. He knew that, deep down in his bones. Had known it from the first time he’d seen her, and that instinctive knowledge had only further imprinted itself in the very fabric of his being with every taste of her blood, every sweet moan of her surrender, every scream of pleasure he’d wrung from her.
He would have to let her go, he knew that, too, but right now here in this moment in his kitchen, with mere inches separating them, all he could think of was tasting her again.
“Good to know. Take a plate for yourself and Joseph, and leave us be, would you? I’ll ring if we need you again tonight.”
Evie’s sharp intake of breath made him smile, as did Agnes’s murmured acknowledgment. The speed with which she helped herself to two portions would have done any vampire proud, and before he knew it they were alone in his kitchen. Atlan tugged his precious angel closer to him, so close that her tits pressed into his chest and her breaths warmed his skin.
“Atlan, I…are you hungry?”
Her breathless question shot straight to his dick, and that organ punched forward with such speed it was rather a surprise he had any blood left in his body anywhere else.
“I am, but not for food, my angel.”
Her mouth formed a silent O even as she drew closer to him, instinctively tilting her head to give him better access. He bent his head to scrape his fangs along the sensitive flesh there, and his girl shivered in his arms. Her hands fisted in the back of his shirt and drew him closer to her soft body, and he once again marveled at how perfectly she fit against him. As though she was made just for him.
“What are you hungry for, Sir?” She whispered the question into his ear. Instead of answering her, Atlan spun her around, kicked her legs apart, and bent her over the worktop while he ran one hand under her skirt. He growled low in his throat when he encountered the damp barrier of her knickers.
“Hmm, I’m not the only one who’s hungry. You’re soaking wet for me already, you naughty girl.” Atlan ran his finger under the elastic of her underwear and along the seam of her labia until he found the little hard nub he was looking for. A cock-hardening moan came from his angel when he circled that needy button and then sunk two fingers into her wet heat.
“Please, I…god, don’t stop, please.”
She whimpered and pushed her ass into his groin, as he increased the speed and depth of penetration of his digits inside her delectable cunt. Her responsiveness was such a fucking turn-on as he grasped the neckline of her dress and pulled it down to expose her large tits. They fell free, swung from side to side with the involuntary movements she was making as her arousal built and she rode his fingers.
“That’s my girl. How badly do you want my cock inside this greedy pussy? Tell me.”
He rocked his groin into her ass while he finger-fucked her faster, harder, and her incoherent moans increased. Her essence soaked his fingers. Her cunt muscles clamped around his digits, and her hips went wild, as she sought that release she so desperately wanted.
“Tell me, girl, or this all stops now.”
To prove his point he withdrew his digits, grasped both of her breasts, and held her still, as she lay there panting, eyes wild, tendrils of hair sticking to her perspiration-damp neck.
“I said tell me, Evie.”
His sweet little angel bit her lips so h
ard she drew blood, and he simply had to taste her. Atlan licked those drops away, and she opened beautifully for him as she groaned into his mouth, wrapped her tongue around his fangs, and sucked.
Atlan growled low in his throat. He let go of her rack and fisted her hair to yank her off him.
Her unfocused gaze sought his. She licked her lips and tried to close the distance between them, but he had her.
“Tell me, girl. I want to hear you say it.”
Evie groaned, but she did whisper the words he needed to hear. “Please, for the love of god, just fuck me, please, Sir.”
Atlan smirked and, freeing his cock, pushed her back down, while he lined up with her quivering hole then thrust in.
Evie gasped and rose up to her tiptoes, as he pummeled into her from behind.
“Your wish is my command, my angel. Now come for me.”
Grasping hold of her hips, Atlan rode his girl hard, while making sure every thrust in pushed her clit into the edge of the worktop, and she didn’t disappoint in her response.
Evie’s cunt gripped him a like a vise as she came, convulsing under and around him, the sheer force of her internal ripples taking him right along with her.
Atlan stiffened and pushed in deeper than ever before, lifting her straight off the floor, as he emptied himself deep inside her sweet body, while he buried his face in her neck and inhaled her sweet scent.
“You’re mine, girl.”
* * * *
Evie shifted, uncomfortable under Atlan’s intense gaze as he watched her eat. After that spectacular fuck against the kitchen counter, which had left her spent and breathless, Atlan had surprised the hell out of her. It had been enough of a shock to discover that he hadn’t bitten her that time because her orgasm had been just as intense as the ones she’d had the night before. He could have easily drained her dry, and she would have been none the wiser. The fact that he hadn’t, had taken his time to clean her up gently with a warm washcloth, before picking her up and depositing her at the kitchen table, and had proceeded to serve her dinner…well, a girl could get to love that treatment.
“You’re not eating?” she asked now, and he smiled at her over the red wine he’d been sampling.
“I fed well last night, my sweet, and while I can ingest food, I don’t need it. I don’t have to pretend with you, so I’m simply content to watch you eat.”
Heat rose in her cheeks, and an answering warmth spread between her thighs at his knowing look. Everything felt super sensitive down there, not helped one iota by the fact that she was sans undergarments. The pretty lingerie she had been wearing hadn’t fared too well in that impromptu fuck fest against the counter. His nostrils flared in that subtle way he had when he was sniffing her, and lord help her, she was soaking wet again.
Atlan’s grin deepened, and he picked up her abandoned fork, speared another morsel of the succulent chicken on it, and held it up to her lips.
“If you want me to fuck you again, you need to eat up.”
Evie dutifully opened her mouth and resumed eating with him feeding her until her plate was clear. There was something incredibly intimate about the act of being fed by your lover, and by the time he stopped she was a panting, horny mess, again.
“This is insane.” Her whispered words made Atlan’s fangs run out, and everything inside of her clenched in need.
“What is insane?” he asked.
Evie took a deep breath in and grasped hold of her wine glass instead of giving in to her hormones and straddling the man, demanding that he fuck her right her and now.
Instead, she took a deep gulp of the expensive red and shook her head.
“How is it possible that I want you again? I’ve had more orgasms over the last twenty-four hours than I have in the last year, and here—”
Atlan’s laugh cut her short, and she slapped her hand over her mouth, mortified at what she’d just said.
“Don’t be embarrassed. If that really is true, then the men around you must be blind fools.”
It was her turn to laugh, and Atlan’s brows drew together in a frown.
“I mean it. You’re a beautiful, vibrant, sexy young woman. You should have men queuing around the block to take you out.”
Evie shrugged and kept her gaze on the lines running through the wood of the table.
“No queues, I assure you. No one wants to take out the fat girl.”
Atlan’s furious growl shook the table. It should have been terrifying to see him like this. Right now, with his fangs fully extended, his amazing eyes a swirl of dark brooding clouds of gray, blue, and glowing yellow, he looked the epitome of all things evil. He also looked sexy as hell. Evie didn’t even try to justify her emotions, because deep down in that Atlan-sized shape he’d carved in her heart, she knew his anger wasn’t directed at her, that he would never harm her.
“That is the most fucked-up thing I ever heard, and believe me, I’ve heard all sorts of shit over the last few hundred years.” His voice held that deep delicious growl that made her want to sink to her knees and beg him to do to her whatever he pleased. However, sex didn’t seem to be on Atlan’s mind at the minute. “If you weren’t still sore from yesterday, I would pummel that gorgeous butt of yours until you see sense. You’re everything a woman ought to be. Soft, with curves in all the right places. No man wants to fuck a bag of bones and give himself friction burn, trust me on that, sweetheart.”
Evie blinked at the unexpected endearment. He still looked far too intense, and her heart turned over in her chest with all the pent-up emotions bubbling around in there, so she had to lighten the mood.
“You know how that sounds, right? You’re now discriminating against skinny chicks and—”
“This is such fucking bullshit.”
His snarled response cut her off, and before she could even blink he’d pulled her to her feet, flung her over his shoulder, and they were racing up the stairs at dizzying speeds.
She gasped in awe when he slid her down onto the floor and she realized where they were. On top of the house in his art studio. With the lights off and the shutters down, the night sky with its multitude of stars blinked down at them. The full moon hung in the middle of it all, heavy and blinding in its intensity, and it filled the space with an eerie, supernatural glow which added to the whole breathtakingly stunning ambiance.
Evie put her hands out and spun around in a circle, utterly transfixed by the spectacle of nature.
“Oh my gosh, this is beautiful.”
“Yes, it is.”
Atlan had lost his annoyed tone, and when she glanced at him, it was to see him watching her, not the scenery. She fought and lost the blush stealing into her cheeks.
“Atlan?” she asked.
He sighed, gestured around them, and rummaged through some paintings which were leaning face down against the wall. He pulled out two and swung back around to look at her.
“Sit down on that couch, Evie.”
When she did, he put those two paintings on easels. He struck a match, and then several oil lamps lit up the paintings. Evie gasped at the two naked females depicted in their stunning forms. One with generous curves like herself, the flesh spilling over in its abundance, the shades, dips, and valleys of the female form caught perfectly by the artist. The other so thin you could count her ribs, yet depicted in such a way there was no mistaking the slight curve of her breast, her underlying femininity shining through the canvas.
“I painted both of these within days of each other.” He smiled at her sharp intake of breath.
“You’re Atlan St. James, aren’t you?” Evie didn’t know why she phrased that as a question. It was so damned obvious, and Atlan didn’t bother to confirm or deny it. He simply studied her in that quiet way of his.
“One was my lover, the other one a kind of mother to me, you could say.”
He finally broke eye contact with her, and Evie could breathe easier.
“I’m sure you can guess which one of these ladies got my dick h
ard.” He glanced at her with a self-depreciating smile. “Sue me, I’m a guy and we all have a preferred body type, but that does not mean that one shape is more attractive than the other. True beauty shines through from within, like it did with her.”
He lifted a finger and traced the shading of every rib visible on the skinny woman. He seemed miles away as he did so. The silence between them grew thick, oppressive until he looked up and glared at the full-figured woman in the painting.
“This one…” He paused and traced the lopsided smile on this woman’s lips. “She almost got me killed.”
“What?” Evie’s response came out as a high-pitched squeal, which hurt her ears, let alone his, and sure enough, Atlan winced.
“What did she do? And why on earth have you kept the painting?”
Stepping back, Atlan ran a hand through his hair, and Evie’s heart broke all over for him. The sadness permeating from him tore at her heartstrings, and she had to ask.
“Did you love her? Is that why?”
Atlan turned his back on her and stared out at the night sky for what seemed like ages. Just when she thought he wasn’t going to answer her, he did, his voice a deep dark growl.
“She was my wife, so yes, I did.”
“Oh, that is…oh, I’m so sorry. What happened?”
Atlan turned to face her, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned against the wall. Every fiber in her body screamed at her to go over there, to hug him, to offer comfort in any way she could, but his body posture positively screamed at her to keep away. So she stayed put, clasped her hands together so hard her nails would leave imprints on her flesh, and forced herself to simply listen to him.
“I know it was most unfashionable then to be in love with your wife, but I was. Utterly and completely besotted. I thought she felt the same way about me. After all, she promised to love, obey, and honor me. All that worthless shit people spout in front of god and all sundry.”
He paused, threw her a grim smile, and then started pacing to and fro.
“I was young, naïve, and for ten glorious years, we had it all. Money, prestige, we gave each other that, and when the kids came…”
Sold [The Vampire Games 1] (Siren Publishing Sensations) Page 6
