Captured By The Beast I

by Daniella Wright

  Le’on told her that from time to time, other tribes would war with them. It was nothing new; war among the Ammarok tended to mean weeks of fighting before things settled. They were a proud, vicious race, liked to prove themselves to those around them. Sometimes that meant beating each other bloody – she couldn’t say that it was a surprise to her.

  Seeing it up close, however? That shook her.

  They descended on their village quickly. It was a sudden, howling scream that alerted them to their presence, before the warriors came. Lyra remembered it like a blur – the way that Le’on had been kissing her one minute, and the next he had not, how he and Karron had shoved her into an underground space below their bed, telling her to stay there. The worst part during had been hearing all the screaming. There had been so much screaming, so many sounds – the squelch of blood was one that had not left her.

  Nothing had prepared her, though, for the sight of Karron carrying Le’on into their home, bloody, covered in marks.

  The village healers worked tirelessly over him. She had stayed by his side, every single moment, watching their unique blend of tribal healing and technological medicine at work. Her hand held his in a vice grip, and beside her Karron remained, as well. The thing that scared her most was how pale Le’on had become – he’d lost so much blood, she feared deeply that he was going to die.

  He was a fighter, though. She should have known that. He persisted, he fought – he lived. He had woken blearily, blinking himself back into consciousness on the tenth day of his recovery, while her head was rested on his chest, listening to his heart. She nearly choked him in the embrace of her hug when she awoke, and saw him staring at her. The first words out of her mouth would change the course of her life more permanently than she had ever prepared for.

  “Mate me.”

  She had thought about it the moment that Karron had brought him home, at death’s door. The worst thing imaginable to her was the thought of losing either of them – and she had nearly lost one of them, all before either of them knew what they truly meant to them. Perhaps it was terrible of her, that she didn’t realize their meaning to her until she had nearly lost one of them, but that was the fact of the matter. She wanted Le’on, she wanted Karron. She wanted them, deeply, for the rest of her life and if it was in her control, she would never let them go – not even for a second.

  It didn’t surprise her a bit when Le’on enthusiastically told her yes.

  Epilogue

  Lyra

  Passion burned through her body, coursing like a flaming river. Le’on was below her, rolling into her body with his hands gripped hard on her hips. Behind her, Karron filled her, too, stretching the capacity of her womanhood to pleasurable heights that only the two of them had even been able to bring her to.

  They were gentle with her, though. The rocks of their hips against her pliant body were smooth, delicate, filling her deeply without causing her discomfort – there was more to her than just her, after all, with the round swell of her belly making its presence known with its protrusion.

  It was gorgeous, Lyra thought. The proof of their couplings growing within her body, every present as her two loves took her passionately. The fact that it was there, tangible, a testament to their bond, made their lovemaking all the sweeter, and fulfilling. The emotion was there, running in tandem with the physical connection – she could feel it in Le’on’s gaze as he looked up at her from below, as well as in the sweet caress of her belly and breast from Karron as he pressed snugly against her back.

  She would have never thought that she would be there, in such a way. Between two men who she had come to love, and who loved her in return, with their babies growing inside of her – warm, safe, and loved as well. It had happened through such odd, unknowing circumstance, that it was hard for her to believe that this was her life that she was living.

  But it was.

  Korran pressing his lips to her neck, on the right side where his mark was: that was real, that was her life. Le’on sliding his hands over her belly, tracing lines and touching so soft it was like he was afraid he may break her otherwise: that was her life. The burning, ever-present feeling of completeness as they worked her to her completion, before the both of them spilled deep and heavy within her, flooding her body with their ecstasy: that was her life.

  It was most apparent, though, when they lay together in their shared bed, a heap of limbs and emotions, contented sighs and deep groans from the soreness of muscle, was the feeling of belonging that was the most real for her.

  The part of her new life she embraced the most.

  Ripped

  ~ Bonus Story ~

  A BDSM Vampire Romance

  Emilia – I’ve always been interested in vampires, but never more so than when I met Eli, the sexy vampire king, in a BDSM bar. It wasn’t a place I normally frequented, but it was a hotbed of vampire activity, and I had been fascinated with them since I was young. As things got more intense between myself and Eli, I became aware of a side of myself I hadn’t know before, a dark side that enjoyed the danger he posed and the depraved things he did to me. I found I wanted to know everything about him, and we grew closer the more he told and showed me, until I found that I had fallen in love with the vampire who had given me so many new experiences.

  Eli – I was used to spending my time alone in the dark, watching people and drinking from them as I needed. I was surprised when I was approached by a little reporter, who was interested in my whole life story. Though I didn’t open up about myself often—actually, never—I found myself intrigued by Emilia and found that I couldn’t help but to answer her questions, as long as she gave me something in return. Our games were sexual and passionate, and while I learned her body I found that I wanted as much to learn her mind and her heart.

  * * *

  Chapter 1: Eli

  I was sitting in a booth at the bar, looking around at all the patrons there. It was one of my favorite places to spend time—a BDSM bar full of vampires and humans who had similar kinks. I wasn’t there to participate, on the most part, aside from rare nights when my lust for sex was as high as my lust for blood. That was rare these days; I kept to myself, really only people watching and keeping an eye out for someone that I could dine on at the end of the night. I enjoyed this bar because everyone was so involved with themselves, enjoying the pleasure of each other’s company, and didn’t pay me a lot of attention. None of them recognized me as being the vampire king and I was glad. I had been alive for thousands of years and the title hardly held any weight with me anymore. It was just a fact of who I was, rather than a facet of how I behaved. I usually kept it to myself, though there was an occasional use for it when I took women to bed. Women who were more than eager to give themselves to any vampire, but would completely open up for a king. It had its uses, but mostly I liked to keep my mouth shut about it. There could be too much drama surrounding royalty, and that was the last thing I wanted in my life.

  I went up to the bar and ordered another drink, preparing to carry it back to my table when I noticed a woman walking around, mingling with other vampires and humans but not really saying much. She looked like she didn’t belong there; she was sweet-looking, more like an angel than a girl who went out looking for vamps to play with. After a moment, I recognized her as Emilia Fox, a reporter for the local paper whose work relied heavily on pieces about human-vampire relations. It was bold of her to be here in the first place; many vampires thought that it wasn’t her place to question us, to put our words down on paper. It could be dangerous for her if anyone else recognized who she was. For the most part, vampires preferred humans to stay out of their business. Those who didn’t got killed or threatened, but from the way Emilia was looking around curiously, I could tell nobody had stopped her yet.

  I kept my eyes on her as I went to my table. She was beautiful, short with blonde hair, blue eyes that glowed bright among the dark room. She caught my eye and I beckoned her over, giving her a soft smile. Maybe she�
�s the one I’d drain tonight, just to get her out of our hair. That, and the idea of putting my mouth to her slender throat made my cock ache just thinking about it. There was something so pure about her, such innocence that stood out when surrounded by the inherent indecency of the bar and its other patrons.

  She approached the table warily, staring into my red eyes. My gaze darted to her full, sensuous lips and I thought of how much fun I might be able to have with her before I drained her of her blood. I wondered if she would be the type to respond to my advances in that way. There was something about her that was captivating, and I could imagine the look that would cross her pretty face if I gave her all the pleasure she could handle.

  Emilia didn’t say anything for a moment. I gestured for her to take a seat at my table but she hesitated, looking at me with both curiosity and caution.

  “You look like you’re looking for something,” I said softly, trying to disarm her with a gentle voice. “Or someone. I was wondering if I could help.”

  She peered at me through her long dark lashes, then slid into the booth across from me and beamed, apparently deciding that she was safe for now.

  “I just want to talk,” she said. “Vampires are so interesting. And they’re all over this place.”

  “So you’re wondering around a BDSM bar,” I pointed out, “looking for, what, friends? Are you not here to play?”

  Her cheeks blushed a lovely scarlet and she tore her eyes away from mine.

  “I’m just here to meet vampires,” she said, then looked up at me again with a grin. “So what’s your story? What’s your name?”

  “I’m Eli,” I said, reaching forward to shake her hand. She took mine, her skin warm against my palm, and shook it.

  “Emilia,” she said.

  “Do you come here often, Eli?” she asked, leaning back in the booth to make herself comfortable. She really was outrageously beautiful and was bright as a flower in the dim light of the dark, gritty bar. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, despite the fact that I had decided not to kill her after all. It would be too easy, too much like cold-blooded murder to take someone who was so open to me already. I wasn’t above killing to eat, but I wouldn’t do it to completely innocent people.

  “Sometimes,” I told her. “For various reasons.”

  “Such as?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. I grinned at her and she blushed even deeper.

  “It’s an interesting place,” I told her. “I like to watch people. Sometimes I engage, other times I just hunt.”

  Her eyes went wide and she swallowed, running her teeth over her bottom lip. The gesture was more than distracting, and it took me a few seconds to realize that she had asked me another question while I had been lost looking at her lips.

  “What’s that?” I asked, meeting her eye again. “I’m sorry.”

  “I said, are you hunting right now?”

  “Maybe I am,” I said coyly. “I wouldn’t tell you if I was.”

  She laughed. “I guess I’ll find out.”

  “You might,” I told her. We watched each other for a long moment; her face reflected my interest back to me, letting me know that she was on board with the conversation. She really wanted to learn.

  “Do you do this every night?” she asked, scooping her legs up so that she was sitting cross-legged in the booth across from me.

  “No,” I told her. “A few nights a week. I frequent other bars as well, but I spend a lot of my time alone.”

  “Do most vampires prefer to be alone?”

  I chuckled. “Most vampires I’ve met prefer to be in the company of others.”

  “So you’re just weird,” she teased. My lips curved into a small smile that I couldn’t control.

  “I suppose that’s true,” I told her. We continued to talk. She asked me more questions about the bar, about what I did when I wasn’t here. I didn’t go into all the details but I did answer her questions as honestly as I could. I found I enjoyed her company. I found, too, that I was curious about her as well. Any human woman who could boldly walk into a BDSM vamp bar without participating and let her guard down around a vampire she didn’t really know was one who was braver and bolder than most. She sat with her head held high, even when other vampires and humans walked by our table and gave her distinctly confused and alarmed looks. I noticed Roderick, the bartender, who was several thousand years younger than me but almost as deadly, was staring at her with a hungry look in his eyes. I caught his gaze and gave him a firm shake of the head. He knew who I was, what I was capable of, and quickly shifted his gaze away from the girl.

  “Why are you so interested in vampires?” I asked her. She shrugged.

  “I just find them fascinating.”

  It must have been true. She didn’t demonstrate the awe that most humans who were into vampires did. She wasn’t giving off the vibe that she wanted to be taken and used by one of them like so many human women did when they came in here. She was just interested, her fascination almost clinical and detached. She simply wanted to know about vampires. It was a rare thing, strange to me, who had seen the whole history of humans and vampires coexisting and had hardly come across anybody with the same level of interest in getting to know the other species purely for the sake of knowledge.

  We talked as the night passed until it was about an hour away from sunrise and time for me to leave and go home. We had grown comfortable over the course of the night, laughing with each other, answering each other’s questions as earnestly as each of us was willing.

  Before she left, she turned to me, gave me a look that was almost shy.

  “Would you consider doing this again?” she asked. “More privately?”

  I raised my eyebrows. If there was one thing that I was good at with women, it was sensing when they wanted something. Emilia wanted me, I could tell, and I wanted her the same. It might be a bad idea for us to get together again, but I wanted nothing more than to do so.

  “I can do that,” I said, then took her hand with mine and kissed the backs of her fingers. She trembled but gave me a little grin as she made to leave. To be careful, I stood up and walked her out to her car. It was still dark outside, and we had just enough time to say goodnight before I had to retire.

  Chapter 2: Emilia

  I couldn’t stop thinking about the vampire I had met at the bar that night. When I closed my eyes to go to sleep, his piercing red ones were there, studying my face with interest. He had been so sexy, so tempting to me even while I tried to close off my feelings and make my curiosity objective and emotionally distant. But there was something about him, that long, dark hair, those red eyes and heavy brow that made him look intense and sexy and brooding. The bar, too, had gotten to me. Though I’d tried not to show it, seeing the people performing their sex games, the BDSM rituals, made me hotter than anything I had experienced before. It had been an interesting night, for sure, and was one that I wanted to repeat.

  I went back the next night, hoping to run into Eli there. He said he frequented the place a few times a week, and though we hadn’t made set plans to meet up there today, I figured I would go in and try to find him anyway. He was where I had found him the day before, and he gave me one of those low, seductive smiles when he saw me. My body reacted by flushing from top to bottom, and I bit my lip to try to suppress the feeling of desire that flowed through me just having met his eye.

  “Hello, Emilia,” he said, gesturing for me to sit down. I didn’t, instead just looking at him.

  “Is there somewhere else we can go?” I asked, lowering my voice and leaning into his ear. “A private room?”

  He cast a look at me, his red eyes swirling with heat, then nodded. I followed him into a side room that was dark and unlocked. He flipped the light on, though it was just a dim pale glow that barely illuminated anything. What I did see, however, was a wall covered in various toys and implements of pleasure or pain. I looked at him and raised my eyebrows, but he just chuckled and gestured for me to have a seat on one of t
he overstuffed chairs in the room.

  “I have a plan for you,” he said.

  “Yeah?” I asked, my heart pounding steadily in my chest. Just being in the same room with him, alone, surrounded by sex toys in a dark bar, was making my body respond distractingly.

  “I’ll answer your questions,” he said, then leaned forward to brush his lips over my cheek. “But in exchange for answers, you have to let me do what I want to you.”

  I almost couldn’t speak with his proximity. He had leaned in and was just inches away from my face, from my lips. I could have kissed him had I just moved forward a couple of inches. Instead, I pulled back to look him in his eyes.

  “What kinds of things?”

  He smiled wickedly, then shrugged. “A touch,” he said, bringing his hand to my throat and tracing it with his finger. “Or a kiss. A bite if I’m lucky.”

  I felt my heart race in my chest. Interviewing him was one thing, letting him touch me, alone, in the dark, was dangerous in more ways than one. Still, the feeling of his skin on my neck had sent a whole shock through my body, and if I was honest with myself, I wanted more of his touch. I also wanted his answers. It only took me a second to consider it before I nodded, swallowing.