Bewitching Purpose [Blending Bloodlines Series Book Two]

by Destiny Blaine

  "Have you heard anything I've said?” Armand walked over to his desk and tossed a few papers around—shuffled them really, to nowhere in particular. “Matilda, I don't want to take us there. Not yet. You aren't in control of your emotions now. How in the hell can you expect to bridle them? You live as close to Erzsebet Bathory as she was in the flesh—it's almost like the two of you are one in the same."

  Matilda's voice dropped but hardly covered the excitement of everything she wanted to know. “Was she really all that bad? Probably not. I mean, look at me. I watched the woman take over my body, for crying out loud. Look at who I've become!” Matilda jumped up and turned around in a circle. “I'm star-quality beautiful!"

  Armand agreed. “Yes, you are, but you are also just days away from becoming a cold-blooded killer."

  Matilda already had Bathory's mindset. “And your point is?"

  "My point is that she ... you ... are living in a different time now. You can't get by with what Erzsebet was allowed to do, and why would you want to become such a woman?” Armand crossed his arms and then continued with sensitivity in his voice. “Matilda, we could have a good life. If you don't allow a power-hungry soul to guide you, we could have some great times together. Eternity allows us a forever that many mortals would kill for in order to take such a promising and never-ending future for themselves."

  Matilda walked around in front of him. She reached out to him and stroked his cheek. “Yes, my dear. Eternity allows us a forever that many would love to have, but only the chosen can live.” She pecked him lightly on the lips. “Armand, let's experience it. Let's find out what we need to know and move on. I can feel her inside me. She's dying to get out and if you search your own mind, heart and soul, you'll find you're already enslaved by the one you will become."

  Armand pulled her to him close. “Ah, but Matilda, I'm a jealous man and Erzsebet brought down pure hell on the men who loved her and the men she loved."

  "Yes darling, she did. In fact, she even killed a few of them.” She showed no emotion.

  Their eyes locked, but Armand didn't say anything. Matilda did it for him.

  "And I'm willing to bet she did it only for the sport of it because history shows she became quite good at it."

  He glared at her harder, but didn't see her. His worst fears unfolded. Hate and love. Life and death—such a fine line. Matilda flirted with both. It chilled him to the bone and opened his eyes. He focused on the road they were already on, and the one path he wanted to defy.

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  Chapter Three

  Armand woke up to an empty bed and a vacant room. A note taped to her dressing table caught his eye. He could see it when he sat up in bed. He didn't rush right over to retrieve it though he knew she would love to think as much. Instead, he lay back down into the comfort of pillows and fell back into a deep sleep.

  His dreams took him back to another time. She was there, too, just as she'd been in the States. He waited to enter her, and she encouraged him to do it. She watched with excitement, looking into the dressing mirror. He moved into her with force and after the first stroke or two; she became Erzsebet Bathory. He damn near watched the transformation and it haunted him. It wobbled between the horrific and the exciting. The romantic and totally erotic.

  Matilda's innocence, what little she had, seemed stripped away from her and he helped take it. He fucked it out of her and watched the woman she became. Mesmerized by her beauty and unwilling to admit it to himself during their first intimate meeting—who she became was all because of him, as much as for him. Armand loved every second of it. The way it made him feel as a man and as a vampire could never be explained to a mere mortal.

  It wasn't enough. Not only did she begin to transform into another woman, she began to wear the face of a killer with a voluptuous body that many men would willingly die for. He had done this to her. He'd followed orders from the elders and only knew of their half-truths.

  Her laughter woke him up. “Are you going to sleep all day with that hard-on or do you think you can put it to work for a greater cause?” Matilda hovered over him. Her palms were on either side of his head, and her body pressed into him as soon as his eyes opened. She evidently stripped off before she joined him in bed.

  Armand understood her sudden spurt of sexual energy was driven by another goal. He had told her enough to entice the poor little witch to take matters into her own hands. Now, eagerness would drive her to use sex to bring about his change. Maybe they could bond in a different way. One where there weren't guidelines, and time lines to stand in their way.

  Matilda slid down him like a snake inching over a slippery surface. “Can I?” She playfully took his shorts between two lips and yanked them suddenly, moving them down to his knees with a forceful mouth and a hand ready to go to work.

  He moaned as soon as she wrapped him with taunting lips ready to please. She drifted up and down him with skill. He couldn't help but wonder what she would be able to do to him with her body once she truly loved the man who would come to possess his. It tortured him as he thought about it. How could he be jealous of the man he would eventually become?

  Matilda slithered artistically. Really, she worked creatively at oral sex. Something he never noticed prior to then. She first took her hand in a death-grip around the shaft before she devoured him with a deep throat massage. She sucked his dick in as far as she could stand and latched on—oh, but did she snap those jaws tight. Forgiving and luscious strokes pampered him with spongy efforts of adoration.

  Delicious intent. His woman had it, and he knew it. Up and down, her oral exploration was flawless. No one did it better. No one ever would, except the woman she would soon become with him. Then, past experiences would guide her to use this kind of attention to torture him. Erzsebet loved to torment those around her. He wouldn't escape her games. Maybe he would even love them. He imagined so, anyway. Just as he loved her now, he would enjoy her completely soon enough.

  She played with his balls using light, calculated touches to soothe the skin while sucking him into the outer realms of a shattering orgasm. But, she wouldn't allow him to take it. Not this time. Her lips and chin had the evidence of the pre-excitement he'd only just released, and he moaned when she stopped, noting the look of one-upping him all over her face.

  "Damn you, Matilda. Finish me.” He held onto her hair with a fistful of it knotting around his fingers.

  "Say please.” She purred the words into his belly as she crawled back up his body.

  He tried to push her head back down to where he felt she best served her bewitching purpose, but she wouldn't hear of it.

  "You get what you deserve and nothing more."

  She was inches away from sliding up just enough for a latched fit, but he stopped her in her pursuits. Rolling over her body, he looked down on her before wicked emotions surged through his body. Love her. Damn, he wanted to—did he ever. Damn if he didn't need to just devour every inch of her.

  "What's wrong?” She questioned, but she didn't deserve an answer.

  His left hand went to the curve of her waist, and he immediately flipped her over. There, her white ass invited the strokes and he started with the little things that made her crazy. His forefinger ran down the crack of her ass before his palms settled on each butt cheek. In circular motions, the heels of his hands moved into her bottom working the skin beneath his touch.

  "Like this, don't you, baby?” he taunted. “I know you do.” He slapped once.

  "Damn. Why do you have to spank me? I'm not crazy about it..."

  Two more slaps came down on her bare ass. “I am."

  She giggled. “Yes, I guess you would be. You're not being spanked."

  She let out a long sigh, but it wasn't from boredom. It was from the relief of knowing that she would be able to earn what she longed to receive. He knew he'd have his share of thrashings once Matilda pushed back further from herself and Erzsebet took over. He imagined he'd have fewer opportunities to tan
her little hide.

  Two more slaps. The skin barely looked touched. No palm imprint could be found. None. It gave with the slap. Something he'd noticed her taut skin do the first time he paddled her behind. Slap. Slap. Slap. He delivered the smacks harder.

  "Fuck you, Armand. Sometimes I hate what you do to me.” She moaned more from pleasure than from pain.

  That's what she hated. She despised it because she liked it and Armand could relate. He often hated how he felt when he was with her. Vulnerable—mere putty in her bed.

  "You hate it, do you?” He rubbed his cock over the very cheeks he'd just spanked. “Move up.” He instructed her.

  "No.” She called out over her back while eyes dared him to take her anyway.

  His hands moved around her and he brought her up to all fours. “Don't make me ask twice,” he growled into her ear and felt her body writhe under his touch.

  The chill bumps rose in wonderful spots. He realized she liked him most when she couldn't control him, and he was out of control when she allowed him to go this far. Two more slaps came down on her ass, and then he massaged her again with his left hand while his right palm cupped her pussy. Sliding his middle finger inside, he moved into her with a finger fuck that she wouldn't soon forget.

  "Tell me you love it. Tell me you need it."

  "Mmm...” She didn't have the ability to form words. Not that he'd listen. He'd heard too much from her in the past few days. He'd fuck her just to keep her quiet.

  His strokes were quicker, and soon she felt like thin vanilla pudding under his touch. The slick crème just oozing out proved she was ready for him to drive her to another place. That's when he fell into stride, with his dick replacing his fingers in the same tempo he'd already started.

  One palm came down on her bottom for each stroke he gave her pussy. “Sweet mercy hell, Matilda. Just fuck me."

  He moved into her slow and then fast. Hot strokes urged her to take as much as he could give her. She bucked back into each of them and whined, cried even, with every smack on her ass. “Damn you Armand. Don't spank me. Fuck. Just fuck."

  He smacked once more. “No, you don't get to tell me what to do."

  Shit. His eagerness allowed her to win.

  "Harder baby. Come for me.” She purred out her mischievous request.

  He did.

  When it was all over, they lay together wrapped in each other's arms. She looked up at him with dancing devilishness encouraging words. “I'll always tell you what to do, Armand, and if you're smart, you'll listen.” She giggled, amused by the way she'd used his own statement against him.

  He needed to bleed her. Take some of the mean spirit she kept to herself and see whether he could relieve her, but he didn't have the energy. He just wanted to sleep, but Matilda had other things in mind.

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  Chapter Four

  After hours of fucking, they finally fell on the bed exhausted. “Holy hell, woman. Where did that come from?” He smiled down on her before rolling off her once more. They'd had a sex marathon, and he knew why. The devious little she-devil wanted to draw him out. Take them to the other side. She thought it had something to do with sex and while it did, it also didn't.

  He smiled to himself. He was content. He finally figured out everything He understood when and how he would become the man of Matilda's dreams—or Erzsebet's for that matter.

  That's when it hit her. He saw it in her expression. Just when he had the satisfaction of knowing he'd been able to escape that wicked bite he craved to give her, she figured it all out. Maybe even read his mind.

  "You have to be hungry for me, sweetie?” It definitely came out as a statement more than a question, but she wanted an answer. She definitely knew.

  Her neck rolled out an invitation. First, she moved it to the right and then a bit to the left before the sigh slipped from her lips along with the seedy little grin.

  Armand closed his eyes tighter determined to shut her out.

  "I've gotten so used to that part that I miss it when you don't.” She murmured a suggestion most of the vampires in their prime would love to hear from their mates. Most would consider it jazz music to their senses.

  He opened one eye and watched her. She moved over him and straddled him, taking her seat on top of him crossing over his middle.

  "Matilda, no. I'm tired.” He tried to move her to the side.

  "You're tired because you need to feed from me.” She tilted her head hard to the left and began flicking herself in the neck as though she wanted to really showcase a prime vein. One meant just for him.

  He held her wrists. “No. I need to sleep."

  "No.” She fired back. “You need to eat.” She blew out hot air all over his chest in an exasperated attempt to turn him on when she was too tired herself to do anything more about it. “Come on. I'm right here. Don't you want to take a bite out of my sexy neck?” Her lame attempt at turning him on for her blood didn't work—in fact, she failed altogether.

  Armand moved to the side of the bed. “Knock it off, Matilda.” He moved his legs over and draped them over the side. He released a sigh—and holy hell, it was tortured.

  She watched him carefully before going to him and rubbing her breasts over his back. Whispering in his ear, she called out to him. “I know you need my blood."

  His labored breathing likely inspired her because her own wind quickened for a few precious moments in time. She kissed his back with soft lips, tracing his spine with her tongue while massaging every inch of skin she could find on his back or arms. Lightening fast fingers moved wherever she wanted them to go. Over his back and shoulders, up to the base of his neck and right below the ear.

  "You know you want it.” Sultry words rang out but with it came the surprise.

  The dreaded bite delivered first and then the fear. She figured it out. Every detail. Every single thing she needed to do. She knew. It drove her and the new will it inspired would be unstoppable now.

  She bit, and she sucked.

  "Holy fucking shit, Matilda.” He moaned. Growled. Grunted. Cried. Then, he tried to move from her but couldn't. She held him clenched between tight teeth, and every pointed edge was so full of need as she clamped down to prove just how much.

  She sucked him for all he was worth, and she wanted his weight in blood. Her renewed strength and knowledge appeared obvious. She had a death grip on him, and the slurping sounds she made rang throughout the room.

  The Blood Countess came to call.

  "Let go...” he told her softly, but her mouth latched. She felt warm and inviting—even orgasmic.

  The hellish realization burned away from him, and then he didn't want her to let go. He wanted her to go ahead and finish what she'd started. She'd figured it all out. She would take him to the brink of death feeding on the blood he had stored in his body, and then he would take it back. All of it and then some.

  His hand went to her hair. He twisted and pulled. Yanked and matted it. “Please don't. Not yet.” His words were softly spoken but though they said one thing, he already had his palm to the back of her head and firmly held her in place. Now, if she wanted to move, he wouldn't allow it.

  Armand's cock stood tall, erect. Hard and painfully so, he couldn't imagine ever wanting anyone as much as he wanted Matilda right then. “Baby, you're so beautiful.” He mumbled the words, and she continued to drink him in with heavenly sounds. Slurping, sipping one minute and biting the hell out of him the next.

  * * * *

  She took it all. Every bite she could gain from him. She wanted to be sure that the old Armand was completely ready for the new blood he would gain from her. She'd figured it out when he had refused to bleed with her. She realized there was something more to his reservations. He loved to sink his teeth into her when his cock slipped into place, and she knew if he withheld, a reason lingered behind a motive she wanted to learn more about.

  When she finished him off, she rose over him with love rushing into her hear
t by the second. She didn't want to feel any emotions, especially the one threatening to consume her. She wasn't prepared for it. She didn't know how to handle it.

  Armand lay lifeless—barely breathing. She shook him hard when she saw the ashen look washing over his skin. “Armand? Armand! What the hell is going on here?” She shook him again. “Armand? Answer me, damn you!"

  No reaction. No movements detected.

  "Armand! Damn you, Armand!” She shook him then with complete fervor as her heartbeat slammed into her chest.

  She put her ear to his mouth. Nothing. She couldn't hear anything and she didn't feel his breath on her skin. “Dammit! I'm sorry! I didn't know! I didn't know!"

  Matilda's lungs crushed inward collapsing when she tried to breathe. The pounding beat in her chest sounded off in her head more than her heart. Think! Matilda! Think! Damn you! She cursed herself for being so preoccupied with becoming who she was supposed to be that she put the man she loved at risk.

  "Fuck you, Armand!” She slapped him on his stomach.

  There was nothing—not a movement or a twitch anywhere.

  She quickly opened his mouth and held it wide with two fingers. She moved his head down and his chin up to clamp around her neck and screamed out in pain when she successfully closed him around her vein.

  First, he didn't move. It didn't seem to work immediately until suddenly it just did. Without any sign, his lips began to moisten from his own saliva as much as her sweet red nectar.

  Matilda cried and begged. “Please, Armand! Don't leave me. Oh shit. Please! Please! Wake up!” She screamed, ranted, cried some more. Then, she felt him. His body seemed to come alive under her. His tongue swiped as he fed from her neck. He always bled her with care, and it wasn't different, but it seemed so compassionate now. He nibbled and then sucked hard. Teeth and tongue seemed to take turns stroking at her skin just inches down from her earlobe.

  Blood oozed from them both and he moaned with pleasure when she moved her hand to cup his cock. “Sweet, sweet baby.” He called out to her as she moved her palm around him. He rode into her hand with pleasure while she performed a hand job he probably didn't want. He wanted more. She saw it in his eyes, consumed it from his kiss.