Dark Possession

by Aja James

  Just a little more…

  Deeper. Harder. Hotter.

  Husky groans. Raspy moans. Rough, low, savage growls.

  The dark timbre of his voice vibrated through her like the plucked strings of a double bass.

  The female in her dream began to shudder all over with the beginnings of a cataclysmic orgasm. Vicariously, Eveline’s own skin flushed a vibrant pink, her blood practically sizzling with anticipation.

  Until abruptly, the male in her dream pulled away, leaving her cold and empty, flailing at the edge of ecstasy, soaked in her own sweat.

  Eveline came awake in an unfortunate manner—

  By rolling off the edge of a ridiculously tall bed.

  “Ow,” she muttered when she hit the floor in a tangle of limbs.

  “Rest well, Pure One?”

  She sat up straight at that, her eyes just barely able to clear the top of the bed.

  A ridiculously beautiful, blatantly aroused Dark King gazed slumberously back at her.

  Her eyes immediately homed in on his rampant cock, jutting past his navel, inches from her face. A furiously blushing face that she kept hidden behind the edge of the bed.

  His maleness bobbed in greeting, leaking a delicious stream of pre-cum out of that pouty slit in a plump, mushroom-capped, crimson head. Down the long, thick, vein-wrapped column, to a full, heavy sac nestled in a curly thatch of black hair.

  Irrelevantly, Eveline noted to self that she definitely preferred males with body hair. She had the almost irresistible urge to rub her face in his inviting crotch.

  Could crotches be inviting? Apparently, Ramses’ was.

  Unconsciously, Eveline licked her dry lips at the sight.

  She was so, so starved.

  “Thirsty?” He asked solicitously in that sinful, dark chocolate voice.

  She swallowed with an audible gulp.

  His chest seemed to shake, and if Eveline was paying attention to anything above his waistline, she would have seen that it was shaking with barely suppressed amusement.

  “Hungry?”

  He was taunting her. Some self-preserving part of her brain just knew that he was.

  Right on cue, his penis bobbed and pulsed again, squeezing out more clear fluid, the fat, juicy head with its winking slit looking directly at her. (If penises could look, that was).

  As if to say, come take a good long suck. Eat my cream until you’re full to bursting. I’ll satisfy all of your most wanton and depraved appetites.

  Eveline had to physically shake her head to clear it.

  Nope, she wasn’t going to fall prey to temptation. She was a high-functioning, intellectually fortified female. She could rise above her baser instincts—

  To fuck that fat cock until they were both raw, and oh so deliciously sore.

  She slapped her palms over her face at that errant, uncharacteristic thought. One, to smack some sense into herself. Two, to cover her eyes so she could no longer visually eat him alive.

  With her face still covered, she squeaked out, “No, I’m good. I have sausages and milk in my apartment.”

  “Sausages and milk,” he repeated in a low rumble. “How very… specific.”

  Shit! Those were the first things that popped into her head. She was relatively certain she did have those items in her refrigerator, but perhaps she should have mentioned the salad and bread instead.

  She wobbled to her feet on unsteady legs, and kept her face covered with her hands, peeking out between her fingers, her eyes darting everywhere but at the gloriously naked male lying on his side facing her on the massive bed.

  That they’d apparently shared.

  So, her dream wasn’t all imagination?

  “I like protein,” she muttered nonsensically. “Iron is good for you. And, you know, calcium too.”

  “Hmm,” the sound rippled through him and into her, turning her insides into gooey mush.

  “You can have your protein right here, little sprite…”

  A single drop of milky fluid pearled at the mouth of his swollen cock.

  “Ah…” Eveline stuttered, then swallowed and helplessly licked her lips again.

  Only this time, it wasn’t to wet her mouth, it was to collect the drool leaking out the corner so it wouldn’t dribble down her chin.

  “…I have a fully stocked refrigerator in the kitchen,” he finished, his voice tinged with laughter.

  The devil!

  He was knowingly taunting her!

  Well, Eveline had far too much self-control to fall for his tricks.

  She turned her nose in the air and said with all the snobbishness she could muster, “Keep your sausages and milk to yourself, Dark King. I prefer my own meat.”

  She winced right after speaking the words. Did that sound as suggestive as she thought it did?

  “It’s the least I can do,” he insisted, “to feed you after taking your vein.”

  Absently, she held a hand against her neck, noticing the tenderness of her skin where he bit her.

  Her blood pulsed thickly beneath the bruise, just as it thrummed with a heartbeat of its own beneath the hood of her swollen clit.

  Her wanton dream must have been induced by his feeding. It was the venom in his saliva that poisoned her blood, making her think such delusional thoughts.

  Of naked, sweaty bodies straining against each other.

  Thrusting. Arching. Squeezing. Releasing.

  “No thank you,” she managed to croak, before turning about face, away from the tantalizing sight of him. “I’d best be going now!”

  Blindly, she lurched into action.

  And promptly stubbed her toe against the footboard of the bed.

  “Look—”

  He called out with concern, shifting to a sitting position behind her.

  She shuffled her short legs quickly, desperate to get away, and reached for the knob of the nearest door.

  “That’s—”

  The bathroom.

  Right.

  She whirled to the left and smacked directly into a tall console table.

  Who put a stupid table in the middle of the room!

  “Little sprite…”

  She had to leave! He was coming closer!

  If she looked at him again, she didn’t trust herself not to…

  Do something.

  Something uncharacteristic. Something regrettable.

  She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

  They only shared a Blood Contract. Nothing more.

  As luck would have it, the next door she struggled to open was the correct one.

  Without a backward glance, she shot through it, into the empty hallway, and fled down the corridor like her hair was on fire.

  It might as well have been.

  Damn those burning, fiery passions she never knew she possessed!

  *** *** *** ***

  “I did as directed, Mistress.”

  “And?”

  “He accepted the gift.”

  “Have you seen with your own eyes that he’s made her his Blood Slave?”

  “I am due for a visit tomorrow night. I will take note of his choice then.”

  The staccato clicking of sharp nails against the armrest of a deep-seated chair was the only sound in the lightless chamber.

  A pregnant silence carried on for some time.

  Until the rattling, distorted voice said, “And if his choice doesn’t help our cause?”

  “I will think of something else. The Dark King has many allies, but no friends. He is always surrounded by the Chosen, but no one is close to him. No matter how powerful, he is ever alone. No one individual can withstand the combined force of legions.”

  “So you say,” the hissing voice murmured, skepticism clear in its reptilian tone.

  “Don’t underestimate Alend Ramses. He is much more than meets the eye.”

  “Duly noted. I will not make the same mistake I made with his predecessor. When I find his weakness, I will not hesitate to wield it against him.�
��

  “Report to me first before acting,” the hissing voice cautioned. “We cannot afford to be careless. The Pure Ones’ Consul should have been captured that night. We lost our only chance.”

  “Katerina took matters into her own hands and paid the price. She thought she was smarter, stronger, a better fighter. She was mistaken.”

  “And you know better?”

  “I do.”

  Out of the darkness appeared the pale, indescribably beautiful visage of a dark-haired, amber-eyed female with full, blood-red lips. Which curled menacingly at the corners and pulled slightly apart to reveal two long, sharp fangs, dripping with venom.

  “Do not disappoint me, my child. Or Katerina’s fate will be too good for you.”

  The object of the hypnotic, slitted, amber stare surreptitiously swallowed their fear.

  Message received.

  *** *** *** ***

  After Eveline spent an inordinate amount of time dousing the confounded flames of desire coursing through her treacherous body in an ice-cold shower, she cooked herself a hearty meal to last for the entire day.

  Or night, rather.

  After a few days staying at the Cove, her biological clock was adjusting to a vampire’s schedule. Sleeping during the day (if one counted being passed out over a table full of books) and being active at night.

  The floor-to-ceiling windows that lined one side of her kitchen and living space showed that New York City was bustling with excitement this particular night. And, really, every night. It truly was the city that never slept.

  While Eveline ate a feast for one at her dazzling white quartz counter facing the spectacular skyline view, she thought about the millions of people who lived here. All those humans who went about their lives ignorant of the existence of supernatural beings. All those Immortals who lived amongst them, trying to blend in. And those who purposely didn’t.

  Like warrior hornets among honey bees.

  Could they all live together in harmony? Or was the world due for another “reset”?

  Sometimes, it was depressing being the Scribe and the Seer, the one who harkened potential Apocalypses, who saw the unavoidable patterns of the past. The one who always knew too much. Sometimes, ignorance was bliss.

  Too bad Eveline was excessively fond of knowledge.

  She cleaned her plate of food and got up to do the dishes.

  No, there were no sausages and milk on the menu tonight. She’d never look at a chorizo the same way again.

  She made chili, walnut, apple and arugula salad, toasted some cheese bread and baked a flaky apple tart. She drank cranberry juice. Nothing white and creamy coming anywhere near her mouth.

  She groaned inwardly at the unintended pun in her thoughts.

  The sight of an aroused Dark King was forever branded into her mind. All those muscles, tendons, and smooth, satiny skin covered with a light sprinkling of dark hair had completely short-circuited her brain.

  No doubt about it: Her dreams were going to get a lot more interesting from here on out.

  Eveline sighed, wiped her hands, and tried to refocus on boring, implacable logic. She had work to do.

  The dessert was for sharing. She’d read in a Southern etiquette book once (she read everything she could get her hands on) that good neighbors brought each other baked goods. It was a great way to socialize and get to know each other. So, she decided that she’d try this approach with her neighbors in the Cove, starting with the lovely Clara Scott.

  “Eveline, you shouldn’t have!” the human woman exclaimed when she opened the door to her apartment.

  “But I won’t complain. That pie looks scrumptious!”

  “It’s a tart,” Eveline couldn’t help but clarify.

  “It’s rather large to be a tart,” Clara noted.

  “A pie or a tart is not defined by size,” Eveline intoned. “A pie is a sweet or savory dish with a crust and a filling. A tart is the same but with shallow sides and only a bottom crust. Tart crusts are usually made from pastry dough. I made my own using flour, butter, cold water, and a pinch of sugar.”

  “Well that’s…enlightening,” Clara murmured, her eyes rounding at Eveline’s impromptu lecture.

  She couldn’t help it. She loved to acquire all kinds of knowledge and share it as well, with anyone who’d listen. Given that she had a captive audience, Eveline went on.

  “Not to be confused with a cobbler. A cobbler is a freeform dessert consisting of a fruit base and a slightly sweet biscuit topping. The biscuit dough is usually spread over the top of the fruit to create a layer of crust in a baking dish. I can make one of those next time. Maybe with rhubarb.”

  “Gracious,” Clara exclaimed, “I’m just tickled pink you’re sharing this one with me. Do please come inside.”

  Eveline finally stepped across the threshold as Clara slid the door all the way open.

  A dangerous looking male dressed head to toe in black sat upon a large couch facing the entryway, while a little girl who looked just like Clara (albeit smaller) knelt at his feet coloring on a large piece of paper on the coffee table.

  “Oh. Am I intruding?”

  “Not at all,” Clara assured her. “Let me introduce you.”

  She ushered Eveline to the middle of the apartment as the black-robed male smoothly rose to his feet.

  Eveline tilted her head to look up at him.

  The male reminded her of someone, with that shoulder-length black hair, pale skin, and tall, leanly muscular figure. But she was quite certain she’d never met him before. She’d remember him if she had.

  He was stupidly beautiful.

  He was the type of male who sent Eveline scurrying to hide with one look. She never felt comfortable around extremely good-looking males. It was like staring unblinkingly into a noonday sun. She always felt disoriented from heat-stroke and temporary blindness.

  It had taken her years to get used to being around the males of the Dozen. The fact that they were her comrades helped a lot. She could view them as sisters and brothers. However, males who looked like this one did, who were of no relation to her, she’d rather avoid if she could help it.

  But strangely, since laying eyes on the Dark King, she could gaze upon this fine specimen of male beauty without the usual negative repercussions. It’s like Ramses had inoculated her against all other males.

  Eveline huffed internally.

  As if.

  More like the Dark King desensitized her irises after shocking her blind with his gigantic phallus. It wasn’t like she could see much else with foot-long Bratwursts spurting milk dancing like stars before her eyes.

  Disturbed. Eveline was deeply disturbed.

  And very perturbed at being disturbed.

  “This is my husband, Eli,” Clara introduced. “Eli, this is our new neighbor, Eveline.”

  The gorgeous male inclined his head in greeting.

  Oh good. He was a silent one.

  Eveline liked the silent ones. They weren’t usually Romeos when they didn’t deign to speak.

  She gracefully inclined her own head, not offering a palm to shake in the human gesture, since she still clutched the giant tart with both hands.

  “And this is our daughter, Annie.”

  “Hi, Eveline!” the little girl chirped.

  “Hello,” Eveline replied, smiling.

  “Be still my heart, is that fresh-baked apple tart I smell?”

  An impeccably dressed blond god leaned casually against the still open door frame, and a brown-haired, quirky-looking woman stood next to him.

  Quirky, Eveline thought, because the woman had over-large eyes framed by the most extravagant eyelashes she’d ever seen on a person. They reminded Eveline of the legs of centipedes. Her lips were noticeably wide and full; bee-stung was the word. Those features alone took up her entire face. Her hair was piled on her head in a messy, frizzy knot, held together with two pens.

  “Do come in, Devlin, Grace,” Clara welcomed, taking the other woman’s hand in
one of her own and physically pulling her inside the apartment.

  “You’re just in time for a special treat.”

  “But it’s not lunch time,” Grace remarked in a flat, emotionless tone. “Devlin and I already had breakfast.”

  “Come now, darling,” Devlin said, guiding his partner farther into the room with an arm around her waist, “there’s always room for second breakfast.”

  “That’s not a thing,” she said in that same no-nonsense tone.

  “It is where I come from,” he returned patiently.

  “Then you can eat, and I’ll watch.”

  “Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart,” he murmured and pressed an affectionate kiss to her temple.

  She seemed to melt into his side a little at that, but her face remained stoic and expressionless.

  What a strange couple, Eveline thought.

  The male appeared to be a natural flirt with his devil-may-care smile, teasing words and twinkling blue eyes. But the female was like a robot, all monotone and literal.

  Eveline liked her immediately.

  After another round of introductions were made, everyone sat at a long dining table while Clara handed out dishware and cutlery.

  “I am pleased to finally meet you in person,” Eveline said to the visiting couple. “Video calls are not the same. And Jade speaks of both of you very highly.”

  “How is my favorite Dark queen faring these days?” Devlin asked with a lopsided smile.

  He might be beautiful too, and flirty to boot, but Eveline decided that he was perfectly harmless. One, because he was obviously smitten with Grace. And two, because there was no sexual heat in his flirtatiousness.

  Both Eli and Devlin were supremely handsome, but neither male attracted Eveline.

  Or made her blood sizzle with flames.

  “She’s taken on the unofficial role of expanding our alliances with other Kinds,” Eveline answered. “Especially with Dark Ones.”

  “Ah. Jade the diplomat. When she wishes it, she can charm the pants off anyone, male or female,” Devlin noted.

  “Except you,” his Mate pointed out.

  “Of course not, darling. Only you are allowed into my pants.”

  The fervent look Grace sent his way made Eveline feel like she wanted to get into her husband’s pants right this second, witnesses bedamned.