Eternal Seduction
Mandy M. Roth
For bad boy vampire Kit, hiding among humans is easy; getting involved with one is another matter. But something about sensual Marcy entices him like no one else, human or demon. The one time they’d been intimate—and he tasted her blood—she pushed him away and left him wanting even more. Kit knows he’ll never be free from desiring her. The only option is to embrace his need and no longer deny himself the pleasure he knows only Marcy can bring.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter One
Marcy moved, the sway of her hips calling to Kit as he watched from the sidelines. Strobe lights flashed and heavy, beat-intensive music pulsed around him. The smell of sweat soaked bodies and alcohol filled Kit’s head. He was used to it. Blocking out the unwanted was a trick he’d mastered long ago.
The club was crowded, more so than normal for a Friday night, and Kit wondered how many men would try to go home with Marcy tonight.
Try being the operative word there.
He’d break any man who thought to touch what he’d found several months prior. When the free-spirited nymph before him had first made her way into his club, he knew she was the one for him. He could still remember the smell of her—woody notes blended with the scent of ocean air—assailing him, making him weak in the knees. She’d demanded his attention by simply appearing. When she’d glanced across the club at him, Kit had thought for sure his heart had stopped beating for a fraction of a second. The moment the corners of her full lips curved into a slight smile, he knew he was hooked, and that was dangerous for a man like him.
Deadly even.
Kit stared at her, wanting desperately to go to her but knowing he shouldn’t. While she was more than legal, she was too young for him. He snorted. Nearly the entire club was. Only a handful of the patrons were immortals, such as he. Of those, only two were over a century—Kit included. The rest were humans, out for a good time.
It was easy to hide among them. He could even be “open” with what he was, not that they’d actually believe him. It was hard to swallow the idea immortals existed among them. A vampire, pretending to be a human, pretending to be a vampire. No one would really bite on the truth.
Kit knew better than to get caught up with a human, but he couldn’t help himself. While hiding among them was easy enough, getting involved with one was another matter altogether. Certain aspects of his life would be hard to hide and to play off as anything other than what they were, side effects of his condition.
He clucked his tongue against his cheek, watching Marcy as she danced. Her hair, currently blond on the roots and pink halfway down, changed colors as often as her mood. Tonight she wore a barely there, bright pink halter top with leather bindings around it and a matching black leather miniskirt. The thigh-high, pink plaid boots she wore teased his mind with thoughts of just how long her legs were. Kit especially liked the way Marcy had black makeup, liner and eye shadow smudged around her eyes, drawing attention to them and giving them mystique and lure. Her heart-shaped face gave her an innocent appearance but the way she moved her hips said otherwise.
Damn, she is entirely too fuckable for her own good.
His cock throbbed, wanting to be free of his leather pants and sinking deep into Marcy. He wanted those smoky blue eyes staring up at him as he eased his shaft into her—wanted to see her expression as the barbells of his frenum ladder, on the lower side of his penis, slid along her sweet spot. They were evenly spaced, six in all. He’d had the set of piercings on his cock done to increase sensation for his bed partners. Plus, he kind of got off on the pain of having the piercing done. Too bad it was fleeting.
Kit licked his lower lip, paying special attention to the silver hoops to the right. He could almost taste Marcy’s sweet cream on his tongue. She’d given him a small sample, a week after her arrival. They’d found themselves thrown together and one thing led to another. The next thing Kit knew, he was kissing her passionately with his hand inching up the tiny skirt she’d worn. He’d raked his teeth over her bare skin, accidently nicking her and causing her to bleed. He’d tasted her blood that night and he’d never been the same. The minute he’d actually made contact with her heated core, Marcy had pulled away, ending their moment of bliss. He’d brought his fingers to his lips, savoring her wetness, forever committing the taste of her pussy to memory.
The man and whatever else it was he really carried deep within him would never be free from desiring her. She appealed to him on all levels. Something no one else had ever done—human or demon.
Kit could have mesmerized her. It wasn’t as if such a thing was beyond his abilities. No. He was the son of a vampire and a slayer union. Enthralling humans was as easy as drawing in air. Many a time, he’d taken women into the back corners of his club, drank from them while clouding their minds, making them think they were being fucked thoroughly, when in reality, he was handling his basic need—blood. It was something he required but not something he needed daily. Monthly was enough for his needs but every now and then, he drank just because he could and he liked the rush that fresh blood gave him. It heightened his senses.
His father had cautioned him, warning of the gifts he’d been born with. Kit had ignored his father’s lectures, focusing only on the power he had at his fingertips.
That was then.
Years and hard life lessons had taught him what his father had tried to spare him. Enthralling wasn’t the answer. Not if he wanted something real between he and a woman. He wanted that with Marcy. More than he wanted anything else in the world.
Besides, she seemed almost immune to the parts of him women normally swooned over. Marcy never got lost in his gaze. She never shivered under the weight of his touch. In fact, she pushed him away and left him standing in a state of need the one and only time they’d been intimate. Maybe that was part of the allure. The thrill of wanting what he couldn’t have.
No.
Kit wanted her equally as bad when he still thought he had a chance.
The song playing in the club was by a band Kit didn’t really care for but Marcy seemed to like. To him, they were rather mallcore-ish. Certainly lacking the hard edge he preferred his metal to have. She moved to the beat, her lush hips grinding with precision.
Kit’s throat went dry as Marcy thumped her body against nothing but air. He could almost feel her above him, riding him to the brink of culmination.
Focus.
He turned with the intent to get a drink. Spotting his longtime friend, Blake Torres, Kit knew he was in for a nonstop teasing about his infatuation with Marcy. Everyone but her seemed to figure out Kit was obsessed with her. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing yet or not.
Blake, or Torres, as he preferred to be called, lifted a dark brow and glanced out at the dance floor. “Planning on talking to her tonight or just staring a hole clean through her?”
Oh, he wanted to be in a hole, preferably any one of the three Marcy possessed. Didn’t matter which. He wasn’t a picky man. Just a horny one.
Kit brushed past his friend and motioned to the bartender. Within seconds, he had a cold beer in his hand and was slinging it back, gulping in hopes of quenching his thirst for Marcy.
It didn’t work. Nothing ever did.
Torres laughed. The sound was laced with power. Kit wasn’t the only male who called these parts home who was more than human. Torres had his fair share of secrets, as well. He didn’t question Kit and Kit made a point to avoid asking Torres anything too specific. Some things were better left unknown.
Torres fetched a drink of his own before coming to oversee the dance floor with Kit. Marcy continued her seductive dance, i
gnoring everyone around her. It was if she were lost in the music.
“You know, she is not what I pictured you falling for,” Torres said, taking a sip of his drink. “I thought you’d end up with someone more like you.”
Kit knew what his friend meant. He was certainly all around harder than Marcy. In more ways than one. Not only was he almost a foot taller than her and at least a hundred pounds heavier, he was covered in piercings and tattoos. She had a few miscellaneous piercings and if his guess was right, a few tattoos, as well, but she was in no way covered like him.
He’d gotten sleeves done some six years prior, coating both arms in artwork he’d designed himself. His back had a tattoo spanning from one shoulder blade to the other. His legs were free from ink for the most part, with the exception of his right calf. It had a sword through a skull on it, done back when old school was new. Nothing quite like waking up in a tiny, darken place in Honolulu with some guy with an oiled pompadour wearing a white T-shirt, branding you for life. A drawback of immortality.
Marcy pushed her chin-length hair back from her face, her gaze meeting his from across the club. Kit stiffened, his breathing grew shallow and his pulse sped. Only she had this type of power over him.
She’s a witch. An enchantress.
There was no other answer for it.
Marcy wagged a finger and gave him a come-hither look. He obliged, his feet moving of their own accord—not that he’d have tried to stop them. The only thing he could do was run with it. He handed his beer to Torres and didn’t bother fighting the lure better known as Marcy. By the time he reached her, his cock was hard enough to hammer nails.
She smiled, her lips bloodred.
Need slammed through him. No longer would he deny himself the pleasure he knew she’d bring.
Marcy turned, putting her body against his. Kit took hold of her hips and moved along with the music, pressing against her ass and gritting his teeth. She let out a sultry laugh. The sound rushed straight to his groin. He groaned, jerking her against him and narrowly avoiding coming.
Chapter Two
Marcy closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of Kit against her. He haunted her dreams and tempted her waking hours. It hardly seemed fair. Such was life.
His skin was cool to the touch and her body was feverish. The combination was explosive. She whimpered as Kit ran the back of his hand up her side and under the halter top she wore.
Rocking against him, her inner thighs tightened as pleasure built deep inside her. The very sight of him nearly drove her over the edge of sanity. Having him this close was almost too much.
He lifted her skirt with his other hand, dragging his fingers up her thigh. Marcy panted, swaying to the music with him. If her dreams were right, Kit wasn’t a man to toy with or tempt but she couldn’t stop the pull he had over her. She moved against him, her body tense and her breathing off.
“K-Kit,” she whispered as his fingers skated over her nipple.
He bent, his mouth coming to a rest over her ear. “Mmm, yes?”
How could he have heard her over the music? She’d barely heard herself.
She slid an arm up and cupped the back of his head, her fingers trailing through his black hair. It was shorn off in the back but long in the front. So long that it hung past his shoulders. He had streaks of white-blond in the front long portion. The color often changed. She’d only vetoed the green. The rest hadn’t bothered her. The sides of his hair were cut short, as well.
He lowered his head just enough that the silver hoops in his bottom lip brushed against her cheek. Marcy leaned, giving in and nuzzling her mouth to them. She licked between two and fisted his hair as best she could with their height difference.
Kit’s body stiffened and he jerked her to him.
Marcy came to her senses a moment before she would have begged him to fuck her. Pulling free of his grasp, she moved quickly through the crowd. People pushed in all around her, swarming her. The air grew hot and stale. Something made her look back. She did and found Kit’s dark gaze locked on her. It was as if the crowd was a sea and he the man parting it. He moved with a fluid grace that wasn’t natural.
Cautiously, her gaze slid lower. The strobe lights flashed, making her wonder if what she’d seen was real or imagined. Was he even touching the floor? Kit couldn’t levitate. People didn’t do that.
Right?
Thinking it a play of lights, Marcy shook her head and continued to back away from Kit. She sliced through the bodies pressing in around her, desperate for fresh air. Her body was burning up and the knowledge Kit was in pursuit of her did little to cool her.
She wrenched away and eyed the door as if it were a lifeline. She rushed through it, breaking out and into the cool night air. Her relief was short-lived.
Kit appeared, pushing his hair behind one ear. “Marcy?”
She exhaled slowly, doing her best to maintain her composure. It didn’t exactly work. “Yes?”
“You okay?”
No. You confuse me.
“I’m fine. Why?”
He inched closer, the sound of his boots echoed in the darkened alleyway. The club was one that was known only in the underground network. It had moved locations over the years, or so she’d been told. Since she’d been frequenting it, it remained in place.
Kit touched her arm and she instantly felt as if she were going to burst into flames. A hint of amusement filled his eyes as if he was aware of the effect he had on her. “How about a bottle of water? You look warm.”
Warm was an understatement.
A slight jerk of her head was the only response she could muster. He was too close. Too awe-inspiring. Something about the dim moonlight backdrop suited Kit. Almost as if he were made for the night. Were her dreams real? Was Kit truly more than a man? Was he something born unto the night?
Vampire fetishes were all the craze within the subculture they frequented, but Marcy wasn’t one of the followers. At least, she hadn’t been prior to dreaming of Kit coming to her in the night, his deft mouth doing things to her body that should have been outlawed.
Her nipples tingled at the thought of her dreams. Gasping for breath, her gaze once again collided with Kit’s. For the briefest of moments, she was sure his eyes swirled with a multitude of colors. Lifting her hand, she watched him closely, lust and fascination guiding her actions. She touched just below his left eye, where a tiny tribal tattoo was.
His jaw went slack and he tipped his head into her palm. This time, she was positive his eyes did indeed shift colors. Stunned, yet not afraid, she moved closer, her body aching for his touch. “K-Kit?”
He clenched his fists and pulled his head from her hand. “Run!”
“What?”
He snarled and the sound was anything but human. “Dammit, Marcy, run or I can and will fuck you here, in this alley, like an animal.”
Deep down, his words ignited something reckless and wild. Instead of heeding his warning and running, she practically launched herself at him. One second, she was in the lead. The next, Kit had hold of her, slamming her against the brick wall. There should have been pain. There was none. Somehow, he managed to be aggressive yet gentle with her.
Kit drew in slow, measured breaths, trying to bring the demon under control. It was no use. He could smell her arousal, her desire for him. Never had he wanted something more. Denying it was no longer an option. Remembered pleasures guided his actions as he dragged a hand down the length of her, going for her exposed thigh.
She breathed harshly against his shoulder, her tiny hands digging at his upper arms. She writhed against his palm as he slipped his hand under her short skirt and against the pad of her scantly covered pussy. The silken material that separated his fingers from paradise was damp. The knowledge she was ready for him drove him onward.
The pulse in her neck beat furiously and his fangs exploded in his mouth. With a hiss, he closed his eyes and turned his head. His intention wasn’t to frighten her, but he seemed to lack the control nee
ded to remain calm and hide what he truly was.
She traced a line down his cheek, over his jaw and to his neck before leaning into him and kissing his collarbone. The action tempted him to the point he found his mouth honing in on her throat. More specifically, the beating vein he knew all too well would yield warm, coppery goodness.
His cock rivaled his fangs in both hardness and readiness. It wanted to be buried deep in the haven between her legs just as his fangs wanted to know the taste of her flesh, of her blood.
Marcy’s kisses came faster, trailing back up toward his lips. Sanity and reason left him as his lips merged with hers. Years of practice of kissing women while his fangs were extended seemed forgotten. All he cared about was devouring her, nothing more. He opened his mouth, thrusting his tongue into hers. She welcomed the intrusion, pressing her body against his, riding the palm of his hand. He slipped a finger under her panties and ran it along her wet slit, his tongue mirroring the action upon her lips.
Kit gave into his baser needs, eating at her mouth. Within seconds, her tongue was inching around his. When it encountered a fang, Marcy stiffened. Kit took the kiss to a new level, tongue fucking her mouth as he soon hoped to do to her pussy. The distraction worked. She became pliable in his hands once more.
Her protest came in the form of her tiny fists hitting his chest twice before grabbing hold of his shirt and bawling it up. It was Marcy who commanded the next tier of their kiss. Blood welled in her mouth and Kit’s demon side seized the moment, sucking gently, swallowing her sweet nectar.
His entire body went rigid. There was no denying it. He had to be in her. The bulging fullness in his pants would wait no longer. Tearing away the bit of material between them, Kit ground his body to hers. He thrust a finger into her tight cunt and growled against her mouth. No one should have the power she did over him. It wasn’t natural.
You’re not natural, he reminded himself, adding a second finger to the mix. He spread her cunt more. The addition of his thumb to her clit seemed to send Marcy spiraling over the edge. She cried out, the walls of her pussy convulsing around his fingers. Her soaked quim beckoned to him, almost begging him to fuck it. He knew she was coming and he kept going, kept tweaking her swollen bud with his thumb as he thrust his fingers in and out of her.
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