Lust Immortal (Immortal Series Book 1)

by Kelly, Carrie

  William’s chest heaved on top of her own, and Isabel wondered if she would ever breath normally again, or if the waves of contentment washing through her veins would ever fade. She knew they must but hoped they wouldn’t.

  Still buried inside her warmth, William kissed her hand and sighed, his dark hair tumbling over his shoulders.

  Isabel pushed it from his face, running her thumb over the smooth warmth of his skin, and smiled at him. “I want to stay,” she said, “but if you think this was a mistake, I’ll go.”

  “No mistake,” he mumbled into her hair and his hands gripped onto her shoulders as if they always belonged there. “I do want you to stay with me.”

  “I will,” she said and wondered at how her entire life turned around in the one moment she decided to speak her mind. She’d have to do it more often.

  Chapter Two

  William smelled her as soon as he walked into the house, the rich scent of her body that humans so often overlooked. She was in the servants' quarters, but beyond that he had no idea what she was doing. Sleeping? Eating? Bathing? He’d put off the inevitable long enough. He needed to talk to her about her upcoming freedom tonight.

  “I’m starved,” Charles said as he loosened his cravat and slumped into a chair in front of the roaring fire. The heat from the flames did little to warm either of their pale white skin.

  “Mr. Moorish had plenty of servants. Why didn’t you drink from one of them?” William asked. His younger brother could be such a fool at times.

  “I did, but only a little sip from each. I hate to be a hog at those gatherings. Plus, we have perfectly good servants here. Shall I call Isabel? She should be full up by now- I haven’t had a drink from her in weeks,” he said and smirked.

  William glared at him. It hadn’t taken long for Charles to guess his weakness around the indentured servant. Right after they’d taken her in, William knew he could never get too close to the girl or he’d end up killing her. Her aroma, the sumptuous smell of the blood pumping through her veins was enough to drive him mad with desire. As she’d grown, his longing for her blood changed. Yes, he still wanted to sip from her supple neck, but Isabel had matured into a fine young woman. Now that she was twenty years old he wanted to do so much more than simply bite her. William wanted to own her, to possess her as his own- but he couldn’t. The Vampire Council didn’t look kindly on members who fraternized with dinner.

  “Do what you like,” William said.

  The smile that crossed Charles mouth made him look like a devil. “Isabel!”

  “You could be more refined about it.”

  Charles shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “How dull. I’m not you, and nor do I care to be.”

  “One of us has to be responsible else we’ll be fugitives out on the street. Without the protection of the council do you know what might happen to us?”

  “We’d be free?” Charles said as he examined his perfectly manicured nails.

  “Penniless and vulnerable. We’d be dead within weeks.”

  “You think too little of yourself. I’m sure we could outrun the council’s wrath.”

  William frowned at the fire. “There are worse things out there.”

  Charles shrugged, and William decided to drop the subject. There was no use lecturing- Charles did what he liked and consequences be damned.

  The pitter-patter of slippers on the flagstones sounded outside the door and perfume of Isabel’s blood filled William’s nose, draining away all the annoyance he felt toward his little brother in a manner of seconds.

  Charles smirked at him as the door creaked open and Isabel stepped inside. Her long brown hair hung loose and wet over her back. Underneath the linen robe, William spotted the thin cotton of her chemise. They’d disturbed her from a bath, no doubt. She stepped into the room tentatively and curtsied. “How may I help my Masters?”

  Charles eyes traveled over her form and his smirk deepened. “I’m famished, but I believe my dear brother also has something to speak to you about.”

  William grit his teeth and turned to the fire, the annoyance seeping back. “I wish to discuss that matter in private.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Charles shrug, but the glint in his brother’s eye gave his thoughts away. “I’ll just have a sip before I leave.”

  Charles’ hand shot out and wrapped around Isabel’s narrow wrist, engulfing it. Then he pulled her onto his lap like she was only a child. In many ways she was. William himself had been hardly older than twenty-five when he’d been turned, and Charles was hardly even twenty-two. That was sixty years ago.

  Isabel’s blue eyes widened as Charles wrapped his hands around her slender waist. Through the layers of fabric, William noticed how flat her stomach was and the roundness of her breasts as Charles’ hands traveled toward them.

  “No corset?” Charles said, his hands resting over her pert nipples.

  Isabel bit her full bottom lip; the teeth sinking into it in the way William fantasied doing a hundred times before. Instead of looking away, she stared right at him, her eyes burning into his and begging him. No. He just imagined it. She begged nothing of him in the entire time she’d been in their care.

  William dug his fingers into the arms of his chair and narrowed his eyes at Charles. “You know how the council feels about such relationships.”

  Charles caressed Isabel’s mounds, and her nipples hardened at the slightest touch. “Do you think I give a damn what the council thinks?”

  William sighed. Why couldn’t Charles see that acting like a reckless fool would only get him killed? “If you like your life the way it is you would.”

  Charles rubbed his lips over her smooth neck. “She smells divine. I can’t believe you’ve never even tasted her, dear brother,” he said, avoiding the subject.

  Yes. William knew she smelled divine. The rich scent already assaulted him on a daily basis. It was difficult being alone with her at times as the urge to overtake her was so powerful. Meeting Isabel’s eyes, he wondered if she enjoyed his brother’s touch. Did she enjoy having the life-blood sucked from her by vampires? She hardly flinched as Charles sunk his fangs into her delicate skin, and she never struggled. Then a look of intense desire filled her eyes- a look more powerful than William had ever seen. He should elicit that look from her! The smell of her blood overpowered him, made his head light as the pounding beat of her heart filled his ears. He should be the only one to drink from her!

  William stood up before he realized what he was doing. “Enough!”

  Charles laughed as he pulled out his fangs, a couple drops of blood dripping from the little holes in Isabel’s neck. “I didn’t take much.”

  William glared. “Get out. I need her sensible.”

  Charles lifted Isabel from his lap and stood. “Whatever you say, dear brother. I do hope Tabitha’s still awake.”

  He waited until the sound of his brother’s footsteps faded before he spoke. When he glanced at Isabel, the look of absolute desire was replaced by one of apprehension. Did she distrust him so much?

  Her scent was about to make him lose his senses again, which was probably what Charles wanted. Pulling out a clean handkerchief, he handed it to Isabel. Her slender fingers reached for it, almost touching his, but he pulled his hand back just in time. Just one touch could drive him over the edge. “Sit down.”

  “Master?”

  William sighed. She took her position in the household too seriously at times. “I said sit down, Isabel.”

  Slowly, she perched herself on the edge of the chair and brought the handkerchief to her neck. The blood soaked into immediately, the redness seeping out from under her fingers like a blossom.

  “Did we interrupt you?” William asked, although he already knew they had.

  Her cheeks flushed, and the rush of blood through her veins excited William’s taste buds. “I was in the bath.”

  The thought of her naked and wet filled William’s mind. His hands caressing her body, lips kissi
ng every inch of her supple skin while she moaned in pleasure beneath him. He shook the thought from his head. It couldn’t happen without putting them both in danger. “Well, I hope you forgive the disturbance.”

  “Of course, Master,”

  William looked into her questioning eyes. “Do you know why I wished to speak with you?”

  Isabel fiddled with the ties of her robe for a moment before she answered. “Yes.”

  William looked at the fire. Ten years had nearly past since they plucked that dirty child from the streets of London and took her across to the New World. If it had been up to him, William wouldn’t have forced her into an indentured status, but the council would think he was weak for helping a human child with no request for service. Isabel was so small at the time, her long brown hair tied in a messy braid and her clothes in rags. She’d said her parents were dead and she begged on the streets for food. William knew, as he looked into her pale blue eyes, that she’d be dead within a year or two if he left her there. Of course Charles thought him a fool, but over time he grew fond of Isabel and played with her as if she was his little sister. William never allowed himself such frivolities.

  “Your servitude will be up in a week’s time. As the contract states, we will provide you with a tidy sum, I believe we agreed on twenty pounds, but we’ll have to give you pieces of eight instead. Does that sound fair?” It took all his willpower to say the words out loud- to admit he was letting her go forever if she left.

  Isabel’s eyes widened. “That much?”

  She’d grown to be a wonderful asset in their household- the perfect servant and a kind and loving woman. William smiled slightly. “Your service these past ten years have been worth it.”

  Isabel’s eyes fell to her hands. “Thank you.”

  William cleared his throat and nodded. “What do you plan to do with your freedom?” She’d probably dreamed of this day since she was a child. He hoped her plans would bring her the happiness she deserved.

  “Work in a dress shop, perhaps,” she said as her fingers trailed over the wrinkles in her robe.

  If she chose to work in the city he could still see her- but if she moved elsewhere she’d be lost to him forever. Perhaps that was for the best. “In Philadelphia?”

  “If I can find work,” she said and a little drop of blood rose from the wound on her neck.

  What would he do without her fragrance filling his mind with impure thoughts? He should be happy she would soon be out of the house. She’d no longer be in any danger from him- but it also meant he couldn't protect her from the others who might want a taste. “How does your neck feel?”

  Isabel raised a slender finger to her neck, spreading the blood over her skin. “It’s fine, Master.”

  William grit his teeth and dug his fingers into the leather of his chair. It was all he could do not to pounce on her that very second and drain the life from her tender body. “You can also stay on as a servant in our care, if you desire. You’ll no longer be indentured, Isabel, so you’ll receive a salary and more freedom than you now know- such as the ability to marry, if you choose.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Master.”

  The fire cracked in the hearth, a log falling to pieces in a burst of embers. She didn’t want to stay with them. She wanted to leave his house and disappear into the night like a ghost. How was he to respond? “Why not? Have we not accommodated you? Been kind to you? Most of my brethren are not so.”

  Her eyes burned into his skin, but he didn’t look at her.

  “Yes. Both you and Master Charles have been kind. But I’m not sure I can find happiness here.”

  The words struck him like a blow. “You’ve been unhappy?” He’d thought she at least appreciated the care they’d given her, and instead she’d been miserable the whole time. What a fool he’d been!

  He smelled the salt of her tears before he saw them and looked over at her stricken face. The wetness shimmered in the dim light of the fire, her eyes soaked in a despair he’d never seen. “Isabel,” he whispered. This entire time he’d been focused on his own selfish desires and never taken her feelings into account.

  Isabel wiped the tears away with the back of her hand as if she were sweeping the kitchen floor. “No. I’ve been alone for the past ten years. I have no companionship and no love, Master, although that’s all I want. I- I’m not sure why you dislike me so. Have I ever wronged you? Is my work unacceptable?”

  Wronged him? What was she on about? “Of course not!”

  Suddenly, she stood, her slender frame throwing a long, narrow shadow across the room. “As I child I idolized you, and as I grew into a woman I wished you would notice me, but you never have. Do you realize you’ve never once touched me? Not even on my hand? I’m your servant, yet you’ve never once tried to drink of my blood! Tabby and Sarah and all the girls that came and went must have satisfied you in a way I never could.”

  She wanted him to touch her? To drink from her? Her willingness mixed with his need made resisting her at that moment almost impossible. “I have good reasons.”

  “Reasons enough to let your friends feast on me as they see fit while you watch on? I would rather die than have Mr. Moorish touch me again. I would rather die than watch you drink from other woman, wrap your arms around them in an embrace I’ll never have. If you want me to stay, you’ve given me no reason!”

  All this time he thought he’d been kind- he’d done her a favor by not possessing her like he wished. While she’d silently hated every guest who sunk their teeth into her neck, hoping the next bite would come from him. Of course she didn’t understand their politics- to refuse a guest a servant was tantamount to admitting a weakness for a human! It would have put her in danger and him in a bad place with the council. “Is that all you have to say?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead she stepped in front of him, blocking the light of the fire with her body, and brought her hand to his. William flinched, trying to avoid the touch that would put him over the edge, but he couldn’t. She took his hand in hers, the warmth of her body seeping into the cold depths of his, and brought it to her cheek. His fingers caressed the smooth skin tentatively, the dampness of her tears wetting his fingers. Their eyes locked, and William wondered what she would do next.

  Slowly, Isabel dropped his hand and turned to go. The ghost of her touch on his skin opened a deep chasm in his chest, a chasm only she could fill. She’d broken the unspoken rule and now there was no going back. William grabbed her wrist, his fingers fitting around the narrow bone and flesh easily, and he stood. He needed more of her, needed her body and blood to belong to him and only him. Wrapping his arms around her slender waist, he pressed his body into hers, the heat of her fueling his aching desire.

  He quickly untied her robe and moved it off her shoulders, revealing the pale swell of her breasts and the rounded fullness of her hips and bottom as the linen fell to the floor.

  Underneath his hands, she trembled. Out of fear or anticipation? He knew not.

  William lowered his mouth to her neck, her fragrance intoxicating him. “Are you scared of me, Isabel?”

  Her voice was little more than a breath of air. “No.”

  Her trust almost gave him pause. He wasn’t sure if he could hold back once it all started. William didn’t think he could even walk away now. “Perhaps you should be.”

  Instead of fleeing, Isabel leaned into him, inviting him to caress her body. His hands traveled into the top of her chemise, the pink of her nipples hardening as soon as he rubbed his fingers over them. With each breath, her breasts heaved under his hands, her heart pounding against his palms. “You respond to my touch so well.”

  “Yes.”

  William’s mind clouded with lust, and his hands traveled out of her chemise and rubbed her waist and well-rounded hips. The thin cotton of the chemise stole some of her heat from his hands. He needed to get it off. They both needed to be free of the clothing that bound them!

  He spun her around and
took in the perfection of her body, the pink nipples and the garden of curls that held her pleasure. William knew how simple it would be to plow into her without consideration, but he wasn’t Charles. He needed to take things slow. She deserved it.

  Isabel leaned forward and fumbled with the knot and pin on his cravat before moving onto his shirt buttons, while William took of his waistcoat and unlaced his britches. Nearly free of his clothes in less time than he imagined, he stared at the gentle curve of Isabel’s eyebrows and the way her lashes brushed her cheeks when she blinked. Pulling her into him, he stole her lips, kissing them with years of pent up frustration. Her fingers dug into the flesh of his back, their fevered warmth adding to the growing pool of his need.

  Her mouth opened for him, willing him to come inside as his hardness pressed into her body. In one swift movement, William moved her to the floor, his body pressed on top of hers. Still too much between them, he pulled the chemise up to reveal her naked form, bathed in firelight and waiting just for him. Moments before he’d fantasied about his and now the dream was a reality. Lowering his mouth to her skin, he kissed it, her heat burning into his lips as he traveled down her body.

  Opening his mouth, he wet each nipple, enjoying the sensation of the flesh hardening under his tongue and the shuddering moans that escaped Isabel’s mouth. He made his way between her thighs, pushing them open to reveal in the pink warmth of her center. Glancing at her, William saw the want in Isabel’s eyes, the same as his own. Gently, he ran a finger over her wetness.

  “Have you ever been touched like this?”

  “No,” she breathed and writhed under his hands.

  Had she saved herself for him? William pushed down his under garments as he lowered his face to her warmth. The first flick of his tongue made her gasp, her smell and taste filling his body with a fervor he’d never known. He licked at the velvety skin gently, almost teasing her with barely realized touches, each moan making his already hard member throb with anticipation.