Dorian

by Angela Cameron

  She rose up and ground down onto him as something inside her broke loose. An orgasm ripped through her body and pulled moans from her throat, but she didn’t slow. No, she wanted more of him this time.

  Dorian rose up and looped his arms around her. One arm took her back, pushing her up and down on him slowly while his other grabbed her head. He pulled her head to the side, exposing her neck.

  She didn’t have time to form words in her head for what she wanted him to do. He was just suddenly there, doing it, sinking his teeth into her flesh.

  She rested there in waves of pleasure that rocked her into a blind euphoria until his fangs slipped away and his tongue slid across her skin. LeAnne had collapsed onto his chest and could barely raise her head to look at him.

  When she finally managed it, the darkness inside her locked eyes on the beating vein that bulged in his neck. She nuzzled her head into the bend and took that vein as if she owned it. Dorian’s body rocked inside hers, and he growled against her ear. Blood filled her mouth with a warm, metallic sweetness that slid down her throat and burst through her body like liquid light. Dorian’s teeth caught her shoulder and sank in softly. Her body quaked with another orgasm. She swallowed and felt him fill her body, then her mind. This time, the light exploded inside her—a warm, blinding light that held all the comfort of Christmas, hot chocolate, and crackling fireplaces rolled into one. This was a feeling like no other, and she wished it would never end.

  When she came back to her senses, LeAnne tumbled onto the bed beside Dorian. He rolled to face her and propped up on one elbow. A beautiful, wide smile parted his lips. It reflected the feeling pulsing inside her—joy.

  “You bonded us,” he whispered.

  She blinked, but the news did not surprise her. She had wanted it, and did not regret it, even if she wasn’t exactly sure how she had done it. Now that he mentioned it, she could feel his consciousness somewhere in the back of her mind. LeAnne focused on it and felt him come into view with a warm pink glow that she could only describe as love. She felt herself smile. No one ever made her feel loved the way she did at that moment. It enveloped her and softened the darkness that crept in to devour her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Two weeks later, LeAnne finally felt comfortable in her vampire skin. She glanced out across her strip club at the throng of patrons and dancers. It was crowded for a Thursday night, which told her the new ads and promotions were working as planned. She liked to think Michael would be happy with what she had done with the place—if he were around.

  “What’s bothering you, honey?”

  She glanced over her shoulder to see Sherry, the Sally Field lookalike drying off the bartop. The vampire smiled at her, and LeAnne smiled back. In the first days, Sherry had come to make her aware of her side business as a madam. That had broken the ice and, in a short time, she’d come to realize what a warm, motherly personality the woman had. She and her daughter Becky were also two of the funniest people around.

  LeAnne shrugged. “Just wondering if Michael would be happy with the place.”

  “Of course he would. You’ve done a fine job. He would be proud. Don’t you doubt yourself.”

  She nodded.

  Rod walked behind her, and Sherry grinned. Without missing a beat, she said, “I think I have something I need Rob to get off the top shelf in the back for me.”

  LeAnne laughed. The woman was fearless in her attraction to the bartender.

  Dorian slipped an arm around her waist. “They’re waiting.”

  “I’m ready.”

  She let him lead her back to her office where a dejected and gaunt Tori slumped on one end of the black couch, her black hair a limp mess. Blane and Christiana leaned against the opposite wall, whispering. Greg sat in one guest chair while Arracado sat in the other. They were Michael’s closest allies, which meant they were hers too now, whether they knew it or not.

  Dorian closed the door behind them.

  Christiana stiffened, turned toward her and gave the slightest bow. “Thank you for allowing us to meet here tonight.”

  “No worries,” LeAnne said, hooking her arm around Dorian’s. “Why here, though?”

  Christiana looked at Blane.

  He scratched his neck. “Khalil called.”

  “Shit,” Arracado muttered.

  “He’s coming sometime before the next full moon. The council wants an acting padrone and garante as soon as he gets here.” Blane glanced at her. “And we’ve got suggestions.”

  Khalil, LeAnne had learned, was the reported leader of all vampires and Christiana’s creatore. No one was happy about his arrival, but Tori didn’t seem worried. Neither did Blane or Christiana. That kept LeAnne from worrying, too.

  “Suggestions we don’t want to run by everyone.” Christiana added.

  “Like?” Dorian said what she was thinking, as he often did.

  “We were hoping perhaps you could be the temporary garante, considering your experience,” Christiana said. “We all have other responsibilities, and I’m sure I can convince him you are the best choice.”

  “I’ll consider it.” Dorian held her arm tighter. He wasn’t sure about the proposition. “Who will be padrone?”

  “We don’t know.” Blane sounded worried.

  After a few moments of silence, LeAnne asked, “Christiana, who do you think Khalil will pick to run things until Michael gets back?”

  They all looked at her with that same “get a grip” look they did when she talked about him coming back. She had not felt him die, though everyone else seemed to think he had. Tori was convinced and looked like a zombie most days. LeAnne’s theory, however, was that he had left, essentially faking his death to protect the group from retaliation by the Bureau. According to the oldest members, theirs was the strongest cosca in the nation. No longer than she had known Michael, it seemed exactly what he would do.

  “I don’t know. Jonas is the most obvious choice after Michael.” Christiana looked at Dorian. “Has there been any improvement?”

  “Not really.”

  Jonas wasn’t any better. The doc had decided he was definitely in some sort of coma. The vampires she consulted with in Europe said they had seen this happen before with bonded pairs. That same phone call had alerted the elders to the fact they were now a leaderless group.

  “If we have someone already in place, I believe he will go with whomever we choose. However—” Christiana grabbed Blane’s hand. “If we haven’t chosen, he will appoint someone powerful enough to control everyone in the territory and stave off future assaults for the powerbase until he finds the perfect fit.”

  LeAnne glanced around for possibilities. Tori didn’t figure into the scenario; she was human. She wasn’t sure about Greg or Arracado. Neither seemed to carry the weight Michael had. Blane could be, based on his hybrid status. “Blane?”

  Christiana shook her head. “No one here has that kind of power. Blane is the closest, and we can’t be scrutinized that closely by the others.”

  “An outsider, then?” Arracado’s voice was smoother than LeAnne had imagined.

  “Probably. Any suggestions?” This from Blane.

  No one answer. LeAnne rubbed her eyebrow. “So we have a few weeks before we’re taken over. Who gets the clubs?”

  “Jonas hasn’t technically met his death yet, so he will keep his assets.” Christiana sounded removed when she said it, like an attorney. “Do you have some sort of arrangement in writing to show Michael put you over this one or indicate it is yours?”

  “He’s not dead.” LeAnne glanced from Christiana to Tori and wished people would stop acting as if he was.

  “We don’t know that for sure, but it doesn’t matter. He will be if he’s not back by the time they name the replacement. Whoever comes in to take over won’t want to give up control. They’ll have him hunted and killed.”

&n
bsp; “Shit,” LeAnne mumbled.

  Blane nodded. “We’ll keep working on the temporary padrone. If Dorian will take garante, that will help. No one’s gonna want to cross him.”

  She smiled up at Dorian.

  He winked down at her.

  “We’re sorry to throw this at you right now,” Christiana said. “And to you, Tori.”

  Tori nodded only a fraction, but it was a response.

  “Would you two mind walking her out?” Christiana pointed to Tori as she spoke to Greg and Arracado.

  “Sure.” Greg stood. They waited for Tori and walked out.

  “And we have another problem,” Blane said as soon as the door shut.

  “What?” As if LeAnne wanted to know what could possibly make this whole situation worse.

  “If there is a new padrone, they’re going to want Tori,” Christiana said. “There is a little something special about her. I can’t put my finger on it, but I know she’s valuable.” Christiana seemed sure of herself, and it made LeAnne sure of it too. “I’ve believed for some time that it was part of why Michael was attracted to her to begin with.”

  LeAnne shifted. “So we need to send her away?”

  “It won’t work. They will find out. Then they’ll turn her, and she’ll be theirs.” Dorian hugged her close. “Chances are pretty good she’ll be little more than a slave.”

  “We need to know if we should change her.” Christiana smiled a sad smile. “We all want you to make the decision for her since you’ve known her the longest. She doesn’t seem capable of deciding right now.”

  Unfortunately, she was right. Tori was not in the place to make life-altering decisions. She wasn’t qualified to order lunch most days. She and Dorian had discussed drugging her, and LeAnne had about decided a few Lexapro were going in her friend’s next glass of orange juice.

  “We’ll discuss it,” Dorian said.

  “We’ll talk again later.” Christiana patted her on the arm and walked toward the door.

  “Later,” Blane said.

  LeAnne nodded.

  As soon as the door closed behind them, she turned in Dorian’s grasp. She didn’t speak but held onto him, nuzzling her head against his chest. “I can’t decide this for her. Not after all that has happened. I don’t know if she would want anyone but Michael or Jonas to do it.”

  “I know. It will work out,” he said, turning her face up to his. Dorian leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “We don’t have to figure everything out tonight.”

  She nodded. “Maybe I can talk her into letting one of us do it.”

  “She will be fine.” He kissed her again, then smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Tonight we need to break in this new office.”

  LeAnne wrapped her arms around his neck. “Floor or couch?”

  Dorian let out a wicked snicker. “Desk.”

  She stood up on her toes and let him take her mouth. He scooped up and carried across the room. Even with the impending disaster that Christiana had warned them of, she was okay. She felt light and surprisingly content. It was a new feeling for her, one for which Dorian was completely responsible. Stress had been her companion for as long as she could remember. Now, she felt like the world could wait while she did what made her happy.

  At that moment, LeAnne realized she was truly happy for the first time in her life. As long as she had Dorian, nothing could take that away.

  THE END

  About the Author

  As a child, Angela spent many, many hours huddled in the bottom of her closet, reading by flashlight. Later, she began writing to entertain friends in middle school with custom tales involving their favorite celebrities and fantasy characters. By her freshman year in high school, she earned her first paid publication. Shortly after, she dropped writing in pursuit of a more “responsible” business career. Luckily, fate threw her together with several best selling writers via the marketing firm she owned. The temptation was just too great. Newly inspired, Angela went back to college to major in English and Literature (with a Creative Writing Minor). She began to write again. As an adult, her obsession with the paranormal and passion, became the topics for her work. She is an accomplished artist and the author of several published works that bridge the genres of erotic romance and the paranormal with a focus on seductive, dangerous fictionA native of the Deep South, Angela currently lives in the beautiful near Smith Lake area near Birmingham, AL with her husband and daughter. She still reads with a small book-light (although now it’s in bed) and shares her stories with a few of those same friends from middle school. Visit her site at www.Angela-Cameron.com for more information, freebies, and to chat with your favorite characters.

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  Copyright Information

  A Ravenous Romance© Original Publication

  www.ravenousromance.com

  Copyright 2012 by Angela Cameron

  Ravenous Romance

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  Suite 123A

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  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, exce
pt by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-60777-527-0

  This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental..