She tasted him slowly, carefully, her exploration circumspect. No harsh suction. No bobbing up and down. Just delicate strokes of her tongue, while her fingers gently played his shaft and balls.
His enraptured cries became more feral. He growled. He snarled. He ripped the sheets, his hips bucking wildly as he thrust himself into her mouth, making a mockery of her carefully measured pleasuring.
‘I want you! I must have you!’ His voice was ferocious now. He was all primal magic and otherness. Teresa felt fear, the kind that exhilarates and hurls the spirits skywards. She was a mountain climber challenged by Everest, a hang-glider about to freebase off a sheer precipice. Wracked with savage terror, her blood surged with a wild anticipation and sheer joy in the embrace of no going back.
Hauling herself upright, she looked down on Zack’s magnificent cock, pale and shining with his own juice and her saliva. Deep inside her, she felt her womb leap and cry to him. Could he make her pregnant? She doubted it. And as a virgin, he was free from disease, surely?
It was his fangs that were the danger to her. But with them, she’d take her chances. She had no choice.
Throwing a leg over Zack’s lean hips, she positioned herself over him, his tip at her entrance. Then as he bucked up again, she bore down, taking him in.
7
It was heaven. Paradise. Perfection. More than he’d ever imagined, and he’d had a long time to imagine it.
First her sweet mouth, now her beautiful warm body. The sensation of being enclosed and caressed was exquisite and chaotic. As intense pleasure surged, the call for blood raged in his mind and his veins. He looked up at Teresa, drinking in every glorious facet of her gentle curves and her gleaming rosy skin, seeing her sweet face all haloed in shimmering red.
I must resist, I must resist, Zack repeated to himself.
The battle of his senses was titanic. The knowledge of what his fangs could do to her clashed again and again with raw ravening hunger. A lust for blood such as he’d never experienced before, even in his earliest and most untutored struggles.
And yet the conflict prolonged the pleasure. The primal skirmish between man and vampire kept him from simply thrusting like a maniac, coming and ejaculating almost immediately. Fighting his own urges gave him an edge, just enough so that he could think of Teresa’s pleasure.
Reaching out, he clasped her hips, holding her tight and rocking her on the fulcrum of his penis. He knew he was big and hard, and he filled her and caressed her with that hardness. Her eyes and her mouth were wild with sensation and her throat was flushed. As she moaned, and rocked in time to his movements, he felt her channel ripple and embrace him with its heat.
‘Oh, God! Oh, God!’ he roared, naming the deity he was no longer sure he believed in, ‘I can’t … I …’
And yet still she pleasured him, flexing and clenching the very quick of her sumptuous body around him. His head was spinning, a red vortex of raving desire. Wanting her to share something, some human essence of this sublime sensation, he slid his fingers between her legs, finding the apex of her sex, almost where their bodies were melded. He knew his touch was clumsy and untutored, but her response was a sweet whimper of pleasure, and she pressed her hand over his as if to affirm his efforts.
Then he felt it. Her body reaching the pinnacle. Fast, hard contractions around his flesh. Her fingers gouging into the back of his hand, and his thigh where she was supporting herself.
‘Zack! Oh, God, Zack!’ she shouted, her triumphant shout as unnaturally loud as his own blood cry.
Beyond control, he reared up, grasping her to him as the red fire of bloodlust boiled in his loins and in his soul. At the last moment, he tried to turn away his head, but she wouldn’t let him. Still climaxing, she buried her hands in his curls and brought his face to the curve of her neck, pressing his mouth against the soft damp skin of her neck.
‘Do it, Zack!’ she commanded him, her voice ringing like a queen’s, compelling him to do her will, ‘Do it, Zack … take my blood. It’s what I want.’
Unable to defy her, he bit down softly, and drank her sweetness.
Her human blood was warm with life as his cock jerked inside her and his cold seed spilt and spilt and spilt.
‘I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.’
Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him.
It was useless. Teresa could no sooner not look at Zack than she could stop breathing.
I’m going crazy, she thought.
Zack’s idea of formalwear was a gorgeous black Edwardian evening suit, complete with high collar and elaborately tied cravat. She knew now that he could never have worn such a suit when it was actually in fashion, but she loved his quirky fondness for vintage style.
Everybody cheered and clapped as Lisa and Tom kissed enthusiastically, but like herself, Zack appeared vaguely distracted. When he met her eyes, his expression was complex. Part triumph, part confusion, part guilt, part lust – all mixed up with a sweet warmth and tenderness.
She wished he would listen to her when she told him he had no reason to feel guilty.
She’d been the one who’d pushed him into biting her.
His eyes widened as if he’d read her thoughts, and unable to stop herself, Teresa flicked back to those breathtaking moments.
It’d been like falling and flying both at once. There had been pleasure in her belly like a boiling, swirling whirlpool that she also felt in every cell and atom of her body.
She’d never come like that in her life before, and she knew it was because Zack had been feeding at the same time.
The little pinpricks itched suddenly, and Zack’s eyes narrowed as she adjusted the silk scarf she’d slung around her neck to hide the evidence. He’d taken barely a few mouthfuls, but it was the act, not the volume that was significant.
The ceremony over, murmuring and jostling guests began to move away from the rows of seats set out in front of the little rose bower where Lisa and Peter had taken their vows. Next on the agenda was the reception, and the groaning tables of delicious buffet food and inordinate amounts of booze behind the open bar were calling.
Dusk had fallen, and there was a tiny bit of descending sun on the horizon, but the weak rays didn’t seem to bother Zack too much.
‘It’d have to be full daytime sunlight for me to crisp,’ he’d told her as they’d made their way outdoors. ‘Other than that, I’m fine.’
Teresa circulated through the noisy hectic reception in a dream. Everyone was having a fine old time, ribald jokes were being told, and people were drinking, eating, laughing and flirting. But to her it all seemed at a great distance. Her only reality was the tall elegant man at her side.
From time to time, she caught other women eyeing him, their blatant envy of her written on their faces.
Oh, yes, he is a stud, she silently taunted them. And he’s gorgeous. But you don’t know the half of it, and if I tried to tell you, you’d think I’d lost my marbles.
Sipping from a glass of wine, she wrinkled her nose because it had no flavour. She supposed that normal human pleasures lost their impact when you were in love with a supernatural being, and you’d just been to bed with him.
Dancing began on the specially laid floor. Teresa watched people jigging and gyrating, and women doing various kinds of sexy wiggle in order to snare themselves a man for the night. At one time she would have enjoyed strutting her stuff too, regardless of whether she was hoping to find a nice man or not. But tonight she felt weary and detached from reality. It was if someone had photoshopped the wedding party into a blur.
‘Are you all right?’
Turning from the dancing throng to Zack felt like leaving the shadows behind to embrace the sweet light of the moon.
‘You look tired.’ His fine broad brow was puckered with concern, but all Teresa wanted to do was reach out and touch the single loose curl that dangled across it, having escaped from his scrupulously groomed coiffeur.
Trying to think stra
ight, and not get sidetracked by kiss curls and eyes that turned red, Teresa gave him an encouraging smile.
‘I’m fine, Zack, really.’
Liar.
‘I’m perfectly OK.’ She dropped her voice. ‘You haven’t harmed me. In fact, I feel wonderful.’ She touched his arm, thrilled all over again by the feel of hard muscle and unnatural strength beneath her fingers. ‘It’s just that I’d far rather be alone with you than amongst this crowd.’
Zack frowned again.
‘Don’t do that.’ She reached up and smoothed her fingers across his brow as if to erase the frown. His skin was cool, but the contact prickled like electricity. ‘What we shared was wonderful. And I want to do it again. As soon as possible.’
Biting his lip, Zack looked heavenwards, a picture of confusion. There was the slightest bit of extra pointing on his canines, and she could feel desire pouring off him like discreet magnetic waves.
He took her by the shoulders, and looked deep into her eyes, his own already ringed with red.
‘And do you think I don’t want that too?’ His voice was raw. ‘I waited for three-quarters of a century for what happened between us, Teresa, and it exceeded even my wildest imaginings.’ His long fingers tightened around her shoulders, and the little pain of it was scary yet delicious. ‘And next time … next time I know will be even better.’ His crystal-blue eyes had a red halo. ‘But I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself.’
‘Right on, mate! I know what you mean! She’s a cracker!’ slurred a drunken wedding guest as he passed them, swaying and bleary-eyed.
Zack’s eyes flared crimson and he glared at the man ferociously. The very air seemed to vibrate with a silent roar of fury.
‘Sorry. I’m really sorry,’ apologised the chastened guest in a tiny voice, before scuttling away, white as a sheet and terrified.
‘See what I mean?’ Zack’s eyes were normal again even though his voice was still softly fierce. ‘Around you, I can’t contain myself – I thought I could, but it’s a thousand times more difficult than I expected.’ He closed his eyes for a moment, thick black eyelashes like two silken fans sweeping down. ‘I … I love you, Teresa … and I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t bear the thought of what I might do.’
Teresa swayed, and almost before she could register what had happened, Zack’s arm was around her waist, holding her up.
‘You’re not all right at all, are you?’
‘I’m fine, I tell you,’ she shot back, her voice sharper than she’d intended. She couldn’t think straight. Her head was spinning and her heart was flying up, like a bird.
He loves me.
She stared around. The wedding seemed to recede away from them – become unreal. New dreams flooded in, swirling and blending with her wild erotic fantasies of vampire sex. She saw herself and Zack, walking hand in hand through a beautiful night, silent in contentment and companionship. For all eternity.
‘Come on, let’s get away. It’s great … but we need time to ourselves,’ she gasped.
Zack looked doubtful, alarmed, almost angry. And Teresa knew it wasn’t anything to do with breaches of social or wedding etiquette. ‘Don’t worry … nobody will miss us. We’re not the bride and groom.’
I wish we were. I’d give anything to be the Bride of Dracula.
‘What’s so funny?’ Zack asked as they sped away from the wedding party. Teresa realised she must have laughed aloud. As they left the marquee, shadows were falling like a cloak across the garden.
‘Nothing. Just silly thoughts.’
They were silly – but also deadly serious.
To be Zack’s bride, she’d have no choice but to die.
Driven by some vague, dark compulsion, Zack headed for the maze again, drawing Teresa along at his side.
This is madness, he thought. We should have stayed with the wedding … You’d be safe there, my love. I couldn’t feed on you with an audience of hundreds.
And yet a part of him knew that he had it in him to do just that.
Now that he’d tasted the bliss of lovemaking and the beautiful alchemical blend of blood and sublime sexual pleasure, he knew that the comfortable arrangement that he and Teresa had shared until now would never be the same again. He couldn’t go back now, but perhaps she could, if he could persuade her to leave his house and the danger he presented.
And in the meantime, somehow, he had to maintain control. He had to think. Reason. Explain to Teresa what had to be.
The tall fragrant hedges of the maze loomed around them as they entered. The night scents were cool and fresh, intoxicatingly sweet. But nowhere near as dizzying as the delicious odour of Teresa’s perfume, and the delicate but piercing aroma of her sex.
‘I hope we don’t get lost.’ She looked up at him as they walked, her face glowing in the light of the newly emerged moon. ‘Or can you fly and see above the hedges and find a way out again?’
Zack shook his head, amused despite everything.
‘Yet another myth from stories and movies.’ He squeezed her fingers, almost wanting to moan aloud at how much the simple contact roused him. His fangs were already dangerously lengthened, just from holding hands. ‘I can’t fly and I can’t turn into things. You’d be surprised how very normal most vampires are.’
‘No bats? Wolves? Green mist?’
‘Fortunately, no.’
She shrugged, and the slight, subtle lift of her breasts made a jolt like liquid silver speed through his veins. Everything she did, everything she said, and everything about the way she looked only made him more aroused. He was just about to draw her to a halt, and insist they return to the marquee when they turned a corner and found the centre of the maze. The stone benches sat in a silent, accusing circle around the dark pool where he’d spent his passion last night.
Teresa gasped.
‘This is so beautiful! What a magical place!’
She drew him forwards, and then looked down into the near black water.
‘I love it that I can see you,’ she breathed, and then turned to smile at him.
Zack stared down too, looking not at his own faint reflection, but at the clear image of Teresa, her bare shoulders gleaming in the moonlight, beautifully revealed by her elegant dress with its narrow straps. As he watched, she pulled off the silk scarf that had been wound around her neck. Her throat was white and smooth, apart from the twin crimson punctures of his bite.
Lust, both for blood, and in the form of simple human desire, raged through him like a tidal wave. His penis stiffened like iron, and his fangs descended fully.
He had to get out of here. He couldn’t resist. He had to be in her – and he had to feed.
Teresa watched the magical change. Crimson gleamed in Zack’s eyes and the points of his sharp white teeth glinted in the moonlight. A frightening yet delicious feeling of weakness and yearning enveloped her. It was coming from him she knew, but she guessed it was a subconscious rather than conscious emanation.
It didn’t matter which though, her body still sang with need and longing. Her skin tingled, especially around her bite marks, and between her legs her sex melted and grew liquid with raw desire. Moving without effort or conscious volition, she pressed herself against the length of Zack’s body, tugging at his collar and then laying her lips against his cool throat as if that might compel him to reciprocate.
She could feel his great strength, and how he was using it to fight her and put her from him, but her own surge of strength and power was almost equal to him. Sighing, she wound her arms around him, opening her mouth on his neck, licking and tasting the delicious flavour of his skin.
‘Teresa, no!’ he groaned, but there was resignation in his low voice, and a pleasure that was impossible to hide. All these months with her he’d held back, and all the decades before, when he’d kept himself apart and out of temptation’s way. They were like a great mass of dammed up emotion bursting forth, a force of nature that could no longer be turned or diverted.
His arms tightened around her, and as she threw her own arms around his neck, he cupped her buttocks, lifting her and moving her against the knot of his erection. She felt her feet leave the grass beneath her as he held her effortlessly, crushed against the length of his body.
‘We mustn’t, Teresa, we mustn’t –’
It was a last-ditch attempt.
‘Oh yes, we must,’ she purred, wriggling and rocking sinuously against him.
For a moment, all around was a blur of motion, and then Teresa found herself lying on her back, on the grass. Zack was lying half over her, a hand moving seductively over her breast while he supported himself on the elbow of his other arm. Somewhere in the transition his jacket and his elaborate tie had disappeared, and his white silk shirt was hanging open, baring his chest.
Teresa laughed. She was naked on the turf.
‘So … you’ve changed your mind,’ she murmured, lifting her knee, sliding it against him, her hips twisting, coaxing.
‘Yes,’ he said roughly, his hand sliding from her breast to her belly, fingers flexing, the middle one tracking down towards her cleft. ‘But no biting … absolutely no biting! I swear it!’
But his eyes were red and his fangs were long. Teresa shuddered, revelling against all reason in the power of her lover’s most basic instincts.
And then he touched her, and as she moaned with longing, he howled, primal exultation ringing and rebounding in the intimate space enclosed by the high hedges.
Only his caress existed, only his long cool body, only his scent. All rhyme and reason and the world of the normal and the sane, cautious and prudent was forgotten. She groaned for the vampire’s kiss, and the possession of his body. Somehow he was already naked and moving over her, his heavy penis searching, searching, and searching for its perfect sheath.
Teresa tilted her hips, inviting him and facilitating his thrust. Her hands grabbed at him, clawing at his back and cupping his backside, encouraging him, goading him on, her nails digging in, breaking his skin.
When he pushed inside her, her head went light and she wailed and sighed and thrashed as if she too were in thrall to the lust for blood. Her hips lifted, pushed, thrusting back at him. She wanted him to be inside her, really inside her – inside every nerve and cell and blood vessel. She wanted to be with him, and be him, right down to the tiniest denominator of what made them, and she wanted to be inside of him too.
The Red Collection Page 39
