by Ju Dimello
Imagining his pre-cum beading on the head made her salivate with need to taste the alluring drop from her imagination. Better yet… “I need you in me.”
“Not yet. First, I want to taste you, drive you senseless until you’re dripping wet. And when I’ve pushed you to the skies, I’ll give you what you want. You okay?”
“Yes. Please. Soon.” Her own moan triggered her into a flurry of well-practiced motions. She tugged her breasts until her nipples reddened, each touch an electric jolt. She trembled and ventured below. To the soft curls hiding her drenched core. “I’m aching to be filled here.”
“Where?”
She moaned. “You know.”
“Maybe.” His voice was a hoarse rasp. “But I need you to tell me.”
Elena paused, her desire for the forbidden warring with her inherent caution. The desire won, hands down. “My sex—my pussy.”
His low groan was so worth it. “My fingers are there, opening you up. Touch your pussy. Now.”
Even before his growl, she’d dipped two digits into her soaking sex, pressing her clit. She gave a soft scream of surprise when myriad sensations gripped her at once.
“You’re moaning, almost nearing your peak. I’m hanging there by a thin thread. Trying to hold on until you come, before I lose myself in you. Come for me, sweet.”
She imagined him, sinews roping his sleek arms, struggling for control, gritting his teeth. Pulling him atop, she’d tease his hard length before he’d hold her still, clutch her hips and drive into her. Pressure built and blood thrummed in her veins. She groaned as the ball of tension curled tight and abruptly burst into pleasure, consuming her until she didn’t know if she screamed his name or he screamed hers.
She couldn’t get her breath back, and his equally ragged ones filled the phone. “Please don’t stop now, Gregory. I want all of you inside me.”
Chapter Two
“Of course, my sweet. Yes. Take me in.”
Greg fisted his cock, imagining pushing into her gripping warmth. Her parted lips begged him to take her mouth, but later. Later. He needed her too much to distract himself with her pouting assets. Her breasts bounced with his punishing thrusts and he shuddered, the pleasure and pain morphing into one.
“I’m pounding into you, unable to control myself. It might hurt, sweet, but I’m unable to stop. I—Fuck.”
“Gregory!”
Her scream coincided with his mindless grunt. Stomach muscles tensed, clenched and then vibrated with tension. He didn’t stop. Couldn’t. His hand blurred, and only when he imagined her tightness rippling around him, pulsing in orgasm, did he let go. Warm jets of semen splashed over his desk and chair, a few drops hitting his shirt. He shuddered, trying to control his breath, sweat pouring off his face.
Whoa! His heart still raced with surprise and more. He’d never, ever done such a thing in his lifetime. The roar of blood in his ears accentuated his pleasure multifold, wringing the last drop of his come until he sagged into his chair. It took more than a few seconds to get his breathing normal.
Why didn’t he hear her? His heart skipped a beat and picked up full speed.
“Elena. You still there?”
“I—Oh. I feel like awesomeness personified. I’m melted here.”
Her giggle and shortness of words shot straight to his semi-hard cock, which stirred again.
Control yourself, dammit.
Reality sneaked in. Her cries and whispers drove him crazy. No woman, siren or otherwise, had induced him to lose control as if he were a horny teenager, nor had any brought the darkest part of him to the surface.
Need sank its claws into him, laughing, mocking his attempts at not getting close to anyone for centuries. He needed to be inside her and soon. Before his bloodlust added to the already tightening want.
For all their intimacy, she hadn’t given her last name.
His throat dry, he made his last move. He didn’t normally use his influence, but he couldn’t look closely at why he broke all his rules with her. His thrall would, should make her answer. “Lena.”
“Yes?” Excitement laced her tone. Was she hoping for another round? Did she want him as much as he needed her?
Maybe it was the right time to put his deduction to the test. “Sweetheart, tell me your address.”
Whoosh. The click of the phone was the only sound he got in response.
“Damn.” Greg bit his tongue and swallowed the remaining colorful phrases. Plucking a couple of tissues from his desk, he wiped up the mess he’d made.
His cock still pulsed from the aftermath of his phone sex.
A hand job often cooled him down for the time it took to find his next willing partner for blood. Never had he combined his need to feed and his lust together. Tonight his fangs refused to recede and his erection still seemed hard enough to drill walls.
Holy shit! He needed to find her before his bloodlust amped up even more than what it was.
His mind whirred back to their first interaction. He’d sat, as always, through the night shift, and as the boss of his company, his schedule was his alone. Flicking through the calls, he’d been monitoring a few and jotting notes. The devil lay in the details, and to succeed, he needed to be perfect in whatever he did or had to do with the changing technology. He didn’t have any concrete way to figure out how to separate the humans from the others who called his helpline, but his cautiousness born out of experience helped him run this business on the side, giving help for immortals who needed to connect. He’d stayed aloof, an observer in his own world.
Her voice, so soft and yet so sad, snapped something in him, made him want things he’d never imagined. He’d cut in and taken over from his employee. By the time he’d disconnected the call, he’d given her his personal number to call back anytime. Which probably was, in hindsight, the most foolish thing he’d ever done. He didn’t regret listening to his gut.
She’d resisted at first, but in a few weeks, she’d called again. Since then, he lived for those few measly minutes every week, sporting a hard-on at the end of each of their conversations, and had never been happier. As if he’d gotten a new lease on his meaningless life.
Why hadn’t he demanded her address right off the bat?
The obvious answer glared at him. He hadn’t intended to scare her away. If he didn’t get to her soon, he might lose his rapidly thinning hold on sanity.
He reached out to open the blinds.
The breathtaking night view of New York from the twenty-fifth floor usually infused him with calm. Tonight he couldn’t get past the hammering urge to investigate every light in the city to find out which one was hers.
He paced his spacious office, questions crashing in his mind. Why the hell hadn’t his thrall worked? The simple fact that she’d hung up made him question if his influence had worked at all during their conversation, when he’d started to seduce her in an attempt to distract her before everything backfired in his face.
Why wasn’t he surprised?
As a siren, she’d probably possess a natural immunity to his voice. Which meant whatever transpired between them was because she wanted him. As much as he wanted her? He couldn’t wait to find out.
When would she call again? Next week? Never? He couldn’t wait seven minutes, let alone seven days.
When he’d opened the helpline division of his call center, he’d promised anonymity to his callers. He now cursed the signal scramblers, both wired and wireless, that he’d installed in the office.
How could he find her? He shoved a hand through his hair, sorting through his minimal options.
Centuries ago, vampires had tried to live together in colonies, keyword being tried. When humans had gotten wind of them, all hell had broken loose. Survival became the highest priority. The remaining handful of them had spread out, living alone, hiding in plain sight for the most part. Braving what they could to help others, but remaining under the radar. Strictly nothing social between any of them to attract any untoward attention.
Though contacting one wouldn’t be risky.
He shook his head and made his decision. Desperate times did call for desperate measures. Elena was worth breaking a few cardinal rules for.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he picked up the phone, calling the only other vampire who could help with his situation. Leon—the one with connections to hell and beyond.
His friend answered on the first ring.
Greg took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I need a favor.”
* * * * *
Oh God! What had she done?
Hadn’t she shied away from everyone because sooner or later they fell under her spell? So far, that hadn’t happened over the phone though.
The phone sex proved she couldn’t hide behind technology anymore.
What on earth had she been thinking? She hadn’t. That was just the first one among the long list of things she’d done wrong with Gregory. She let out a frustrated sigh.
Over the telephone, she couldn’t harm anyone. Hadn’t charmed anyone until now. As a freelancing graphic designer, running her business from home and filling her life with comfortable, yet fulfilling routine, she hadn’t needed a man in a long, long time.
Hell, who was she kidding?
Knowing what she was hadn’t diminished her yearning for the one thing she couldn’t have—a normal relationship.
Tonight’s phone sex had been fabulous, but the moment he’d for asked more details, she’d balked. Not because she thought him too forward, but because she was afraid. Afraid for his life. Afraid of inviting him over to her place. If he’d insisted, she’d have told him her entire history—from the era she was born to the color of her sensible undergarments. In addition, she’d have begged him to make love to her. Take control of both her mind and body until she could stop thinking and give herself to the passion coursing through her.
Speaking of which, she realized she still pulsed in the wake of her earlier climax.
Elena closed her eyes and burrowed into the covers to escape the intense throb between her thighs. The soft duvet abraded her flushed skin and she shivered in spite of the balmy heat inside the bedroom. Her nipples still tingled where she’d pinched them earlier. She touched one hardened peak and her sex clenched with need.
She trembled and balled her hands into fists. The bedside drawer beckoned and her core throbbed again.
Damn.
With her body betraying her at every turn, she wasn’t going to sleep until she used her dildo to knock some pleasure into her. She moved the duvet aside and pulled the bottom drawer open. An assortment of toys, both battery operated and otherwise, met her frenzied stare.
How had she ended up having such a variety?
As if you don’t know.
Since a man couldn’t satiate her healthy appetite for sex, she’d turned to inanimate objects. From wooden phalluses to the latest butterfly vibrator, her collection winked back at her.
They were her only vice, or so she’d convinced herself every time she’d ordered one more.
She eyed the one closest to her reach—a regular vibrator with an almost flesh-like appearance. Wrapping her fingers over the silicone, she picked it up and grimaced at the lack of heat.
She needed something to rev her engines, not something necessarily warm. Right?
Not bothering with an answer, she switched on the battery and the familiar purr skittered along her nerves. Excitement grew and her body readied itself. Good. At least she could get one thing over with and settle for the night. Her mind was a different matter altogether.
She eased back on the pillows, spreading her legs and allowing the cold length to massage along her thighs, inching closer to her clit.
With her free hand, she plumped up her breasts and tweaked her nipples. Her core clenched at the first touch from her old friend and she closed her eyes.
Gregory’s sexy voice washing over her imagination, she eased the vibrator into her dripping folds.
Sighing in satisfaction, she removed the hard length and inserted it again. And again. Her clit thrummed with need and she lifted her hips to give the rocking motion required to catapult her senses to the skies. She inched closer and closer, but though her body grew taut with anticipation and her every nerve stood at attention, she couldn’t take flight. Twisting to her side, she changed the angle of penetration and the vibrator eased farther up.
Her thighs trembled and she tensed, waiting for the peak that eluded her again. She scrunched her eyes, pushing harder, and waited.
Sweat pooled on her lips and between her breasts, adding to her impatience. She’d become adept at pleasuring herself, but try as she might, the vibrator didn’t cut it.
Double darn!
Resisting the urge to smash something, she pulled out the dildo and flung it across the room. Eternity was too long a time to spend alone, but damn if she was losing control like that ever again.
Pulling the covers over herself, she scrunched her eyes shut, willing sleep to come.
* * * * *
Elena huddled into the trench coat, pushing through the Friday evening crowds, not pausing until she reached her favorite haunt. The warm, enticing smells of coffee and cookies wafting from the place made her drool, jerking her inside from the wet, cold evening.
She smiled at the waitress behind the counter. Her skin prickled with sudden awareness a mere second before a velvety voice came from behind.
“A gingerbread latté with extra whipped cream for the lady, please.”
She whipped sideways to face the man who’d plucked her choice out of thin air, ignoring the goose bumps rising on her skin.
“Oh, and an extra large apple cinnamon muffin too,” he added with a devastating smile, first at her and then to the waitress taking their order. The very pregnant woman stared open-mouthed, flushing beet red before fumbling in a hurry to get the items.
Who the heck did he think he was? Instincts screamed at her to run, but she raised her head and faced his enigmatic stare, not hiding her displeasure. “Thanks! But I can very well place my own order.”
Her brain instructed her to shut up. Too late. Horrified at her sudden slip, she waited for his expression to turn into one of lust.
To her surprise, he scowled. “Never implied you couldn’t.”
She snapped her mouth shut when she took a good hard look at the male who’d interrupted her me time. Was he some sort of mind reader? She wouldn’t have been more surprised if he’d stepped out from the glossy pages of a celebrity magazine. Feeling dowdy in comparison in her well-worn jeans and blouse, she fiddled with the buttons, hesitating to remove her coat in spite of the warm air surrounding them. The feral magnetism emanating from him put her senses on high alert. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, electrified. What—
Watching her studying him, he narrowed his eyes. “You don’t recognize me.”
Recognize?
In his suit, he should have been out of place in this informal crowd, but with his broad shoulders, confident demeanor and piercing brown-black eyes, he looked as if he owned this coffee shop. His high nose and aristocratic cheekbones had her drooling and the lingering wariness soon morphed into a churning pool of sizzling sensations.
He oozed sex from every pore, and she couldn’t help but be drawn in. Her breath caught and her heart slowed before galloping at full speed. Dark hair fell on his forehead, adding to the shadows on his face, and his eyes glinted in the cozy semi-darkness.
Glinted?
She blinked to clear the cobwebs in her brain, sure that she’d never met such an intriguing specimen of manhood. Surely he must have mistaken her for someone else. Or was he playing some kind of a prank like they showed on television?
The rigid set of his jaw smashed her doubts even as they formed. She wrapped her arms around her stomach in an effort to calm the butterflies that’d suddenly decided to flutter. Heat and cold simultaneously bombarded her body, evoking a shudder.
This didn’t seem to be a joke and th
at’s what made her so scared. For him—whoever he was. His spicy scent wrapped around her as though it were a living thing and she took a hasty step backward.
He lifted a hand, grazing her cheek with his knuckles. The strange glint flashed back in his eyes again. Must be an effect of the lack of light, she decided, until she spied his slightly elongated fangs. Now wait a goddamn minute! Who had fangs and a slightly pale skin as if— Realization sunk in with utter clarity and a different kind of fear slid down her spine. What did a vampire want with her?
“My sweet Lena,” he whispered in a tone that made her want to lean into his touch.
Her stomach plummeted and the ensuing dizziness swayed her on the spot. Dark spots crowded her vision before she gritted her teeth and glared at the brooding stranger with the familiar voice that scrambled her senses.
Oh my freaking God!
Chapter Three
Gregory trailed a finger under her jaw. “Long time, no call, my sweet.”
She hissed as if he’d burned her, still staring at him—disbelief and shock warring on her face. The initial flush rapidly bled out, leaving a sickly green.
Ouch. Not the reaction he expected.
He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her, but let his hand drop instead and waited, his muscles tensed, his jaw aching as he waited for her to make a move. Her feminine scent mixed with cinnamon raked over his senses. The air between them charged, sizzled or was that only in his mind? Unlike him, she obviously didn’t seem hit by a bolt of lust.
Snap out of it, Lathrop.
Her order arrived, but she stood still, frozen as a statue. Her throat worked and she made a choked sound. The few people who had rushed into the coffee shop to escape the foul weather were starting to stare.
Holy hell! He hadn’t meant to draw attention by surprising her, but he hadn’t found any neutral place to contact her either without seeming as desperate as a deranged stalker.
He gritted his teeth as her mouth opened and closed. “You—you—”
