The Omegas
Page 8
“Not that. Bite me.”
“Really?” A thrill of malevolent delight ran up his spine. Sex was great but with blood it became mind-blowing.
A slight tremor shook her. “I want you.”
He could smell her fear building. It would make her delicious, yet he’d learned by past mistakes fear was stronger than love. It would destroy anything between them.
“You don’t have to do this. You had me when you stepped out of the cab.” He added as much reassurance to his smile as he could.
She returned it, and the scent of fear vanished. “Be gentle, you’re my first.”
He crawled up her body in one fluid motion and stared deep into her clear green eyes. This experience was important to him. If he screwed up, she’d never let him do it again. How long could he stay with her without it?
He caught her mind like all his prey, then willed her to feel no pain, to relax and enjoy the feel of his body against hers. She wrapped him in her arms and legs, a low moan whispered in his ear. He was surprised to feel his cock responding already.
She turned her head to the side.
As he kissed down her throat, he could hear the drumming beat of her heart. It intoxicated him. He fondled her breast, teasing the nipple, eliciting a moan when she arched against him. His sharp fangs closed over her neck to pierce her tender, salty skin.
The initial spill of blood flowed down his throat. He wanted to savor it and remember this taste forever. He let it trickle out on its own, trying not to be greedy, not wanting to take too much.
Later it would be harder to control this hunger.
She writhed under him and made mewing noises.
It drove him crazy. He released her breast to slide his fingers along her wet slit. Her scent drifted up to him, adding to his excitement. His fingers slid inside her to touch the silky cushion of her sex. The nub of her clit brushed his thumb and caused her to cry out. He ground it in circular motions.
She scratched his shoulders when her nails bit in his skin. “Oh... That’s...that’s good...”
His cock throbbed with fullness. He positioned himself so he could have her both ways, with his cock and his mouth. He pressed his tip to the entrance of her sex to tease her opening.
She groaned and raised her hips, inviting him in.
He clamped down firmer onto her neck as he began pressing himself into her tight, soaked pussy. The hunger drove him and grew stronger; he became a creature more of sensation than of reason. He drank deeply while pumping harder.
Her incomprehensible cries grew louder, more labored. She clawed at his back, grinding her hips with his rhythm, panting with each deep, hard stroke.
She felt wet and velvety. Her blood tasted sweet and tangy.
He pinned her down so she wouldn’t tear herself on his fangs.
She struggled.
This prey behavior excited him, but he had to be careful to not draw too much blood, not to scare her. The demon housed in his soul wanted to be released. Not this time, never again. Instead, he focused on her hot, wet opening as it convulsed around him.
She squeezed him when her climax crested. His guards out by the gate probably could hear her cries.
He pumped as deep as he could until he came inside of her, then withdrew the bite to roar his own finish.
• • • •
Sugar rested in Daedalus’s arms on the polar bear rug in front of the fire, thrilled she’d made the right decision in coming here. The move and the house didn’t solve her problems.
Daedalus did.
She loved the expression on his face when she’d walked into the study. Never had she been with any man who made her feel so beautiful, sexy, and safe. Who cared if her best friends were werewolves and her lover a vampire?
She flushed away those hang-ups once she’d been on her own. Danger lurked everywhere, not only from paranormal beings. Humans were violent and unpredictable too. She could isolate herself more but for what? To survive? She wanted to live and to be with the man she loved.
None of her human friends worried about her, sent guards to try and secretly follow her, or wrote her atrocious poetry.
Daedalus whispered in her ear.
“That was a very moving poem.”
“It’s a limerick. I’m a treasure trove of dirty limericks.” He leered at her and wiggled his eyebrows, then leaned in to whisper another.
She giggled. “More.”
He whispered again.
“That’s the best one of all. I love you too.”
About Annie Nicholas
From my home in the Vermont mountains, I spend many hours in front of the computer creating many worlds. Armed with a back pocket full of wonderful influences from decades of reading, I write paranormal with a twist.
I am struck by the similarity people have to wolves. While on a long drive to Canada, I dwelled on our common behaviors and my story came to life.
Every high school has clicks. There are the jocks, the valley girls, the in crowd, and nameless other groups, but each school has their nerds. So do wolf packs. They call them Omegas. The lowest of the low, all the other wolves pick on these poor fellows.
Just like we do.
Annie’s Website:
http://www.annienicholas.com/
Reader eMail:
annienicholas@ymail.com
About The Vanguards Series
Book I: The Omegas
Available in ebook from Lyrical Press, Inc.
Book II: The Alpha
Coming soon from Lyrical Press, Inc.
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