The Red Veil Diaries (Volumes 1-4)

by Marianne Morea

He kissed her, stepping carefully into the hot spray before putting her down. Her soft curves skimmed his hard chest and thighs as he let her down, allowing her to feel every inch of him as he felt every one of her curves.

  “In Spanish we have a saying,” he murmured between kisses. “Bone is for the dog. Woman is for the man.” He broke their kiss and locked his gaze with hers. “Do not fear me, Rose.”

  “I’m not afraid of you, Miguel. Maybe you’re the drug and lonely women like me don’t stand a chance. Maybe it’s all the romance novels I read. Maybe I’m crazy, but I know one thing that is certain…” She wrapped her hand around his hard shaft and squeezed. “I want you, too.”

  He hissed, covering her hand with his, moving in unison as they both stroked his cock. “Romance is good for the soul, even if you’re not sure you still possess one.”

  At that moment her heart clenched and she wanted to wrap him in her arms and never let go, but she didn’t.

  She knew nothing about Miguel other than he was a sex-on-a-stick supernatural who rocked her world, and from the feel of his cock in her hand and the juice dripping down her thighs, he was ready to rock it again.

  Impossible or not, I could fall in love with him. She chastised herself for the thought. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Be in the moment, Rose. Hot guy in hand. Literally.

  He froze, and she cringed at the amused look on his face, realizing she had spoken out loud.

  “For fuck’s sake to be sure,” he laughed, spinning her around and pinning her back to the tile wall. “Having second thoughts?”

  She smirked and spread her legs, rubbing her pussy against his hard sex. “I’m all yours.”

  He lifted her hips and pressed her shoulders to the tile, slipping his member inside her waiting slit. “Mine,” he growled.

  Her legs turned to jelly as she wrapped them around his back and he buried himself balls deep. She hissed as tender, used flesh protested, stretching again to take the full length of him.

  Shivers of pleasure and pain sluiced through her body and her muscles clenched in a rapid fire climax.

  Hot water cascaded over them, their bodies slick and slippery as Miguel thrust, pumping high and hard. His fingers gripped her thick thighs, sinking into the soft flesh, shoving her further onto his cock.

  Balls high and tight, his entire body tensed as he came as quickly as she, his release echoing against the tile.

  Panting, he dipped his forehead to hers, and sucked in a ragged breath.

  “You okay?” She nudged his head up.

  His eyes were an eerie red and his lip was bleeding. She gripped the back of his neck and leaned in to kiss him, licking his blood from his lips, moaning at the taste.

  He chuckled, letting her down slowly. “Don’t be so surprised. Vampire blood is narcotic. It’s part of the lure.”

  He paused, dipping his hand to her sex, stroking her again. “But not as much of a lure as this…or this.” His fingers trailed the thick femoral artery in her groin.

  “May I,” he asked, his eyes dark with hunger. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he teased.

  Taking her hands, he helped her to the floor, leaning her back, gently. He kissed her mouth, her throat, her collarbone and the space between her breasts, working his lips and tongue across her skin until he buried his face in her crotch.

  He spread her legs wide using the warm water gathered on the shower basin to tease and massage before dipping his head to her sex. She moaned at the feel of his tongue, but when he pulled his mouth away and slipped his fingers inside, she tensed.

  He licked her inner thighs, kissing and teasing her flesh as his fingers worked her pussy. She gasped and lifted her hips on the crest of another climax and that was his moment.

  With a moan his fangs slid into her groin, piercing the thick artery. Potent blood rushed straight from her racing heart into his mouth, the force of her pulse almost too much for him.

  He pulled from her vein, pacing himself as each orgasmic spasm hit her, and when she arched, exploding full against his palm, he drew deep.

  Visceral lifeblood thick with carnal endorphins hit his throat and he groaned with the sheer pleasure of its taste, but held back from taking too much.

  Rose slumped back as exhaustion claimed her and he licked the wound sealing it completely. Miguel wrapped her in his arms and they lay in the warm water pooling at the base of the large shower.

  “You good?” she asked.

  “Perfect.” He kissed her nose. “What about you?”

  “A little light-headed, but I’ll be okay.” She paused. “I will, right?”

  He laughed. “Of course. We’ll get you fixed up good as new and ready to go home in no time.”

  She nodded, but a shadow fell at his words.

  “There’s no reason to be sad, Rose. “This was an amazing adventure, no?”

  With a sigh she nodded again. It was too good to be true. “This was…”

  He placed his finger over her lips. “Wonderful, like you.”

  “You don’t have to placate me, Miguel. I’ll be fine. I’m just not used to being a one hit wonder.”

  He laughed. “One hit wonder? At last count I tapped this fine ass at least eight times since midnight.” He grabbed her soft ample flesh in a playful squeeze.

  “You know that’s not what I meant, but it’s okay. No regrets.”

  “You speak as those we’ll never see each other again.” He leaned over her. “Is that what you want?”

  She sat up, her eyes searching his. “Of course not.”

  He shrugged. “Then why speak of it. I have no intention of letting this be the last time I taste you or take you.”

  The need to possess and claim made his mouth water and his fangs lengthen, but Rose wasn’t ready, so he tamped down on the feeling. “We have much to learn from each other.”

  She smiled. “Yes, we do.”

  He put his finger over her lips again. “Much to learn and much to choose.”

  She nodded and then looked away, playing with the swirl of water near the drain. “Miguel, this vampire thing. It’s exciting, but it’s scary…” Rose chewed on the corner of her mouth.

  He sighed silently. She let him take her body, her blood, but she wasn’t ready for him. Not truly.

  “Look at me mi amor.”

  She turned back to him and he cupped her chin and blew into her face. Immediately her eyes glazed over.

  “Here.” He pierced the pad of his thumb with one fang and slipped it between her lips.

  She licked the blood that pooled and drew the digit into her mouth. Miguel made a fist and squeezed, letting his blood puddle over her tongue, and she swallowed. An immediate peace settled over her and she sighed.

  He pulled his thumb from her mouth and squeezed his fist again, only this time he spread her legs and circled her sex, marking her inner walls with his blood, letting it mix with his essence.

  “We had one hot night and you’ll remember always. You’ll remember the ordinary man who opened you to sensuality, to raw pleasure and to acceptance. And when we meet again, I will be that ordinary man. No more than that. Ordinary.”

  He cupped the back of her head and kissed her, tracing the shape of her full bottom lip with his tongue.

  Rose’s eyes fluttered open and she smiled.

  “Miguel.”

  He met her smile with one of his own.

  “You dozed off.”

  She sat up and rubbed her face with her palm. “I guess. I feel so funny. A little light-headed.” She smirked, running a hand through her wet hair. “I suppose it’s because I haven’t eaten anything but you in almost twenty-four hours.” She reached over and teased one finger across his cock.

  “Bad girl.”

  She laughed. “Come on. Let’s dry off and get some food. I have to get home soon. My sister has probably reported me to missing persons.”

  She stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel, tossing one to him. “Hey, tomorrow is Sunday. Wh
y don’t you come to my place, early? I’ve got a great apartment with a terrific view of the river. Lots of sun exposure.”

  He glanced at the water swirling at his feet. “I can’t…at least not until much later. Maybe we can have dinner and see a movie.”

  She nodded with a smile and the beauty of her pierced him to the core. His. For all time. And if time is what it took, then so be it. What else did a vampire have but time?

  5

  Rose kissed him goodbye, waving as she climbed into the cab. “Call me later!”

  The door closed and he stood alone on the curb.

  “You glamoured her, didn’t you.”

  Miguel shrugged watching the yellow cab merge into the midtown throng. “I had no choice, Trevor. Her doubt and fear were palpable.”

  “I heard she thought you were dead.”

  Miguel smirked, but then turned to his friend confused. “Yet, she let me take her blood as well as her body.”

  “Humans are fickle creatures, especially when their passion is ignited. They lose their balance in the heat of the moment.”

  Miguel gave him a resigned laugh. “What would you have done? Keep her and let her anxiety grow or wipe her memory so there might be a chance she could love you?”

  The wind blew and the two vampires walked back into the hotel lobby. “I would have kept her in a constant state of arousal, that way she’d never question.”

  “Not funny.”

  Trevor laughed. “But certainly fun to think about.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.”

  They both turned as a yellow cab stopped short at the curb, tires screeching.

  The rear passenger door flew open. “Miguel! Wait!” Rose called, scrambling from the backseat.

  Stunned, Miguel ignored Trevor’s discreet goodbye, instead walked curbside to meet her. “Why are you back? Did something happen?”

  She nodded. “You happened. I couldn’t leave things the way we did.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t understand. I thought we were seeing each other tomorrow?”

  Rose grinned. “We are, but I have something to ask you first.”

  Miguel braced himself. “What?”

  She lifted her face and planted a quick kiss on his lips. “Can you pick up a large bottle of B-Complex vitamins before you come over tomorrow? I already have tons of orange juice. We’re going to have to work together to keep my blood count up.”

  “I…I…how?”

  She bit her tongue not to laugh at how flustered he looked. “It’s simple, really. For as much as I’m a hopeless romantic, I’m enough of a cynic not to trust my feelings to anyone other than myself. I didn’t want to lose you before we gave this a chance, and I knew enough vampire mythology to suspect you might try and hypnotize me into forgetting we ever met.”

  He smirked at where this was going. “Glamour, not hypnotize.”

  “See? I was right. But the key ingredient in either is a willingness to relinquish control. You would have had a better chance glamouring me when I was begging for your cock than waiting until afterward.”

  Impressed, he flashed a grudging grin. “Now she tells me.” Miguel gathered her in his arms. “Are you always so stubborn?”

  She nodded, resting her chin against his chest. “Yup. In this case it worked to my advantage. I was up for anything, except being sent away without my memories.”

  “I didn’t take your memories. I just altered the facts…or tried to.” He kissed her hair, inhaling her scent.

  “In my world it’s a criminal offense to alter facts,” she whispered against his chest. “Promise me you won’t do it again.”

  “In mine it is sometimes a necessary evil, but I promise. Never again.”

  “So, now that you know I know about you and your world, and you know I’m willing to give this a chance, doubts and all, where do we go from here?”

  He kissed her quick and stepped back, taking her hand. “Why don’t you show me the amazing view from your apartment? We can stop for your vitamins on the way.”

  She laughed, tucking herself under his arm. “And I thought this was going to be an ordinary weekend.”

  “Ordinary?” He gave her ass a playful slap, steering her toward the cab. “Never. That’s a word we will never use again.”

  Volume Two

  Tempt Me

  The Red Veil Diaries

  Book Two

  Marianne Morea

  Coventry Press Ltd.

  Coventry Press Ltd.

  Somers, New York

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 Marianne Morea

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions of thereof in any form whatsoever without written permission.

  Cover Art: Cover Couture

  Printed in the USA

  “There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable.”

  ~Mark Twain

  1

  “Sébastien wants to see you. He’s on his way down, now.”

  Abigail looked up from her receipts. Her lips parted for a moment before she pressed them together instead of asking why. She was summoned. The reason didn’t matter.

  “Thank you, Calypso. Tell Bette to have a decanter ready in the VIP lounge and make sure she knows the offering is for Sébastien. Have one of the boys keep a look out. Buzz me the minute they sense him approaching.”

  Abigail flicked her hand, dismissing the young woman and returned to her accounts.

  Calypso stood in the doorway, fidgeting.

  “What? For God’s sake, stop twiddling and speak up.”

  “He…he…” the young Créole swallowed. “He never steps foot in the club. Should we be worried?”

  Abigail put down her pen, her undead eyes fixed on the girl. “We?”

  Calypso’s gaze fell to her feet.

  Inhaling, Abigail took in the swash of nervous color pinking the dusky hollow of the young woman’s cheeks, the telltale rush of blood making the vampire’s mouth water and her semi-retracted fangs, tingle.

  “What the master wants is none of your concern. You will do as you’re told.” Abigail’s blasé tone said one thing, but the staccato tap-tap of her pen on the desk hinted she shared the girl’s misgivings, at least somewhat.

  “We all have a role to play, Calypso, and it is best you remember the pecking order explained when you were given a second chance with us.” Stifling her nervous drumming, Abigail clasped her hands together on the desk and studied the girl.

  “Compassion is not a virtue inherent in the undead. You have Rémy to thank for us not casting you from the shadow house you helped infect with that disgusting virus.” She snorted, glancing toward the pile of invoices on her desk.

  “HepZ. More like Werewolf rabies,” she murmured to herself before sliding her eyes back to the jumpy human. “If the decision were left to me, I would have fed you to the youngbloods.”

  A small grin let the tips of Abigail’s fangs glint for effect. “Youngbloods are so…enthusiastic. But what can I say? There’s something lusciously addictive about cracking open a thick-with-marrow bone once you’ve drained the body.”

  Calypso fled and a satisfied smirk ticked the corner of the vampire’s mouth. With a sigh, she pushed herself from her chair and eyed the ornate mirror hanging above the credenza across from her desk.

  Why Sébastien insisted on decorating the Red Veil with so much of the silvered glass was beyond her. It was the same in their private lair at Les Sanctuaire.

  Arrogant and vain. Then again, that described their master vampire to a tee.

  Nonetheless, Abigail checked her look and smoothed her strawberry blond hair and straightened her pencil skirt, giving the
deep, ruffled neckline of her sleeveless shirt a brush. Matched with a pair of strappy stilettos, the classic style was her signature look.

  She was sex appeal wrapped in voluptuous sophistication, taking pains to maintain a certain je ne sais quoi, an elegant old Hollywood style that doubled as both lure and camouflage.

  Except for Sophia Loren, the iconic starlets she rivalled were all dead, but there was an undeniable timelessness about them that fascinated Abigail, and time was something a vampire had in abundance. The fact she shared the same goddess-lush curves, full hips and breasts made the fascination all the more real, letting her revel in her statuesque body.

  As for the mirrors, one didn’t question the head of New York’s Vampire Council. Sébastien DuLac’s word was law as far as she and everyone else was concerned.

  A knock on the door took Abigail from her thoughts.

  “Yes?”

  The door cracked open and Bette tilted her head in, the usual humor in the young vampire’s eyes tempered by the unexpected visit. “He’s coming through the doors, now.”

  “Is everything prepared?”

  Bette nodded. “AB negative. Fresh and warm, with an I.V. tap in case the boss wants more.”

  “Perfect, thanks. I’ll be right out.”

  Abigail noticed the spidery blue rising in conspicuous outlines across the white column of Bette’s throat. “When was the last time you fed?” Serious concern laced her usually clipped tone.

  The short, full-figured vampire shrugged, and her black chin-length bob swung forward to hide the trace evidence of her thirst. “I haven’t had the chance. You know Sébastien refuses to drink bagged blood. I had to no choice but to use outside assets.”

  That meant calling around to nearby shadow houses for available donors with the right blood type. Once again, Bette proved herself both quick-witted and invaluable.

  Abigail exhaled. “You can’t allow yourself to hunger, Bette. It’s bad…both for you and for business. Since I took over the club you’ve been my right hand and my best friend. I won’t have you suffering. Find Calypso. Take what you need from her, but don’t kill the little twit. She may prove useful at some point.”