He took all he needed, and then he rolled on top of her. He didn't waste time. He poured into her walls. “Matilda. Love me. Love me.” He whispered into her neck.
She wrapped her arms around his neck with a grip that he probably would live to regret because he enticed it. She kissed him hard with soft lips searching for something more than what they'd experienced in the past. Locked legs held on tight for the fast if not defiant strokes he delivered. She rose up slightly, allowing full access to perky little nubs ready for affection.
His teeth nibbled at hard, ripe nipples before his tongue ran over them for more intense plays for passion. Stroke after stroke, his mouth didn't quit and his dick never slowed not even when she begged him to stop. They were there. They were so there.
"Don't move from me.” She begged for one thing but wanted another. Multiple sprays of emotion rippled through her, riding her to the glorious end of something while leading the way to a pleasurable beginning of more than he ever gave in the past.
"Matilda! My sweet, sweet Matilda.” He groaned, and his weighted cock exploded into her walls.
Breathing stopped altogether, and then she gasped for air when reality struck. “Oh shit. Oh fucking shit!” She sat up and scooted away from him with her mouth covered by her palm.
"Yes, you've succeeded, dear. You've taken me there—brought me back to you. Now, darling, you and you alone get to deal with me.” His laughter filled the room, and even his voice wasn't recognizable by either of them.
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Chapter Five
Armand didn't feel any different. Sure, he looked about the same most of the time, but in the heat of passion or just as he felt the heat begin to rise, he experienced a noticeable change. One that would most definitely drive Matilda into hell and back if she got out of line-and she would. He counted on it.
He snickered when he thought about the devil in the woman he would enjoy loving for the rest of his life. She had fiery eyes and a body meant to fit snugly up against a man eager for the kind of woman who delivered. Matilda knew how, and not only did she know, she also understood what it took to push him, specifically, over the edge. He would die a natural mortal death to protect her and the recognition of it alone put them both in danger.
"You can't keep your thoughts away from her?” Nellie's voice tumbled through the air. He turned to see her right behind him.
Her arms were crossed, and she had a look of concern on her face. Her hair pulled neatly into a tie-back, she looked younger than usual but lines of worry marked her face. Her perfect snow-white hair even appeared dulled by the concern.
Typically, he would be glad to see her. Today, he wasn't.
"I figured out who you are, Nellie.” Armand slowly spoke with a new element of caution. “You've played me like a sport."
She nodded in agreement. “I have, and I'm sure that bothers you."
"She's yours?” His shoulders tensed with the recognition of words that had passed between the two of them about Matilda.
"Yes. Matilda is my daughter."
He nodded. “I thought so."
"Little hellion, isn't she?” The smirk told him she was proud.
"Well, I guess I could call her a lot of things, but they likely wouldn't sit too well with you now that all the facts are out in the open. Hellion? No. The woman is more like hell altogether. Maybe even the flames that inspire the pits of it."
"Nice.” Nellie smirked. “And she's bringing some of it down on you, I take it?"
"Yes. You're right,” he agreed. “She is and will continue to do it all the days of her life. I'm sure of it."
Matilda walked in during the midst of their conversation and probably sensing that something would be said about their connection, Nellie disappeared. Predictable. Armand cursed her in his mind and hoped she remained somewhere close so she could read it, assuming she possessed the ability to do so.
"Were you talking to someone?” Matilda looked more beautiful than ever. Her facial expression showed contentment and maybe even a touch of happiness. Something Armand never witnessed in her before, not even when he first met her in her homeland.
He couldn't help but go to her. Wrapping his arms around her, he touched her face lightly with fingertips. “Just you."
Matilda looked around. “Yes, now you are, but I wasn't in here a moment ago. Is someone here?” She worked her way out of his embrace, and her eyes searched.
"No one,” he lied. Of course, technically it didn't qualify as one because Nellie didn't exist in the modern world, but conventional wisdom told him, based on what he'd been taught by her, that she did in fact, exist.
Matilda looked up at him with soft eyes. “You look like him now."
Armand could've guessed as much. He became the one vampire Erzsebet Bathory couldn't resist no matter how hard she tried and for some reason, when Armand captured like similarities to Vlad, Matilda wouldn't be able to turn him away. Not that he had any complaints in the area, but a part of him wished she'd felt this way for him before the transformation too.
"Vlad.” She said the name with passion in her voice as she moved closer to him again. Her breathing became heavy, very labored by the love weighting her down in an instant. “My sweet, sweet love."
"I'll show you Vlad.” Armand whispered into her skin before his lower half responded to her without mental preparation or permission. He wished for more time with her as Matilda. He knew it was too late to turn back now. Time passed quickly now. The night he took her back in the States left her forever changed, and now Erzsebet existed in Matilda's body, mind and soul as much as Matilda herself did.
He wasn't sure where or how they would progress now, but he had a feeling Matilda possessed her own ideas of what they would experience together, and what paths they would follow alone. The solo gigs, as she often called her alone time, scared the hell out of him.
The vile nature of the woman Matilda would become wasn't something he looked forward to learning more about. Taming her, reeling her back in, did excite him. Mercy hell, it did more than inspire him. It quickly became his reason for living.
"Armand,” her voice remained quiet and seductive. “Take me right now.” She whispered the words into his ear.
He bit down hard on his lower lip. “You want me again, Matilda?” He teased, stroking her head as someone might pet their cat. “My sweet Matilda, a tiger lives in your soul now."
She tilted her head from side to side and ran her tongue outside her own lips to trace them before moving closer to him to do the same. “Make love to me as Vlad."
Armand pulled away from her and stared at her in bewilderment. “Okay, that's where we have to stop this little act now.” He held her arms out by her forearms and took a deep breath. Why the hell couldn't he just let it slide? He saw the passion in her eyes and knew he had seriously fucked up. She was ready to show him more than a really good time and he just blew it all to hell in a quick moment of what ... jealousy?
Matilda yanked her arms from his grasp. “What the hell? You are him!"
Armand ran his hand through his hair. He realized she made a valid point. He could feel it as his hand ran over his scalp, instantly making him aware of the thicker mane now covering him, not to mention longer waves of natural curls running down his back. He touched his face with both palms realizing that the structure of his face also seemed quite different. His cheekbones felt higher, and his cheeks seemed to sink into the skin just barely sheathing the bones that hid beneath the layer.
The woman he loved stood in front of him. “Matilda."
"Yes, you are him, love. You are him.” She moved closer and touched his face with the back of her hand, and he caught her by the wrist.
"You'll call me Armand regardless of whom you prefer to see. Never mind who I look like in a sick twist of transformation. Forget all of it.” He held her wrist so tight that when she tried to move her elbow just enough to give way to the grip he held over her, it didn't work. She couldn't budg
e.
Her lips turned up into a curve. “Now what, Vlad?” She taunted him all the more, allowing him to recognize simple facts. She would continue to call out to him and refer to him in whichever way she pleased.
Armand raised his hand to slap her and caught himself. Instead, he grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her to him hard. Their bodies melded tightly together. He wasted little time undressing her with one hand while he kissed her, working from mouth to neck and ear before trailing back up to tango with dueling tongues through clenched teeth.
"You'll hate me when all this is over.” She breathed nothing but heavy promises into his skin as he worked down her chest and belly.
"I'll love you for allowing me to despise you, then.” His forearm wrapped behind her knees and in a quick movement; he snapped them with a sudden force. The impact caused her to lose her balance and sit abruptly on the floor.
His tongue worked over her like a whip darting in and out at strategic points before her hips rose to meet him halfway. She peered down at him as he looked over her with hungry eyes tormenting her of things to come; of the orgasm he planned to drive her to once he fed from her most intimate space.
Matilda moved her legs over his shoulders. “Let me make this a little easier for you.” She giggled.
Armand kissed her ankle, slowly moving up her leg to the moist entrance of desire's tunnel. Dominating lust drove him closer and before he could try to resist, not that he would, her hips rose up and one lower leg wrapped behind his neck moving him still closer.
His mouth covered her, and his tongue didn't take opportunity for granted. Feeding the hunger that only grew between them; he lapped at her like a starved animal feeding for the first time.
Matilda's hands worked through his hair. “Oh, Vlad. Don't stop."
Punishing her for calling him Vlad, Armand bit down slightly on her clit, only to hear her scream out more. “Vlad! Vlad!” She coaxed him as her hips moved closer, pushed higher.
Mumbling into her flesh, he licked her into another world while the back of her knee rested against his neck pushing him closer, urging him forward. He fucked her with a tongue designed to please but a mouth just as eager for a bite. Taking her to her orgasm after she'd called him Vlad would not happen. He moved away from her, leaving her unspent and weeping with the desire she still needed satisfied.
When he backed away, he grabbed both of her wrists and pulled her up on top of him. By the time his back met the floor, he didn't have clothing on his lower half and she quickly found her seat over him. Riding him with a body full of intention and a pussy drenched with expectation, she fell into a sinful little grind.
Her smirk tempted him with a deliciously wild dare, and it drove him forward with only the most feral goals in mind. She moved with savage impulses driving her. He reached for her and brought her in for a long kiss. She pulled away, perhaps expecting the bite she didn't want yet. Sitting back, more erect, his hips continued to accommodate her pleasure while her palm settled on the hard surface under them.
Just when she had the climax within their reach, his hand moved to his hip, grasping the arm that allowed her balance. Her body positioned flat against him, and he pulled her higher turning them both over so he was on top.
The bite came. The orgasm followed. And together they rode into a pool of aftermath sharing the love and lust they would own for a lifetime.
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Chapter Six
Armand moved first, realizing they had played the day away. He felt well satisfied that his days and nights would be spent with Matilda. She had come into her age of maturity before him and didn't even realize it. He stared down on her as he dressed, noting beauty's perfection.
"What you'll discover about yourself should never ruin this moment.” He felt his face tingle with true worry. “I love you, Matilda.” He kneeled down and moved the mess of hair from her face. She looked innocent sleeping but when she opened her eyes wide, the wildness still lingered.
"Darling boy.” She smirked.
He stood up. “Don't start with it now, Matilda.” He shook his head and walked away.
Stretching, she looked around for her clothes. She must've decided she liked the fact that they were strewn about the room because when she finally decided to dress, she walked around, slowly picking up each garment making certain Armand watched every movement with needy eyes.
He cleared his throat. “Go ahead and ask. You want to know. You've asked before in so many words. Now, you need to know everything."
Matilda held her hand to her neck. “Damn.” She took a deep breath and then turned to him. “Thank you for leaving me a drop or two."
He laughed. “Don't mention it. I'll take whatever is left next time."
After she dressed, she took a deep breath and let the air slowly seep from her cheeks. “Okay, so now what? You're right. I want to know and for the sake of theatrics, I need to understand.” She walked over to his desk and planted her ass in front of him, propping her bare soles up on his knees.
Armand looked like a giant next to her and his legs were the perfect footrest for Matilda's tiny little feet. He wanted her again as soon as he gazed into her haunting eyes.
"You're beautiful, Matilda."
"You know it.” Her cool confidence didn't surprise him.
"Mercy hell, woman. You'll destroy me.” He rolled the executive chair closer to her.
"I'll try for the rest of your infinite life."
"That's what I'm afraid of.” He sighed and scooted the chair away from her, laughing.
"Don't fear it. Count on it."
"All right love. Let's chat.” He rubbed his temple with the heel of one hand.
"What you want to do is fuck.” She bit her lower lip as her eyes narrowed.
"Damn you! Can you please give it a rest?” He stood up and walked over to the bookshelf certain she could see the bulge of his cock proving her correct. “We can't fuck all the time."
"Why not? Sounds good to me.” She moved her body around and sat with her legs bent under her. She left her palms on the desk.
"Damn you for being irresistible.” His words slid over to her about as smoothly as he did, and he didn't waste time getting there. Before he could stop himself, his hand revisited familiar territory, just outside her pussy.
A finger slid into place just long enough to tempt her.
Matilda's eyes closed, and her head rolled back, working in a slow tempo against the manual stimulation offering just the right sort of inspiration. He definitely loved her like this—willing and ready.
Armand removed his fingers and grabbed her hair a little too rough to be considered playful. “You will not use sex to always get your way with me.” He eased his grip when she laughed out loud.
A grunt preceded her words and seemed wickedly seductive. “I already have."
She was right.
He tried to control the point and time of maturation for himself, but she didn't allow it. She used sex to fully manage everything from the very beginning. The only thing out of her pussy's control was the fact that she was chosen, but even then she had some element of control because she was Nellie's daughter. Fate. History. Destiny. Damn if they weren't a trilogy to be reckoned with.
Armand pressed his palms down on either side of her. “You will not be like her, Matilda.” He almost said the words into her open mouth, beginning with a whisper before sealing it with a kiss.
"You don't know for sure.” She wanted to be like her.
"I do.” Armand sat down next to her and took her hand bringing it to his lips. “I'm not going to let you become her.” His voice drifted off into a sincerity she'd probably never heard before coming from him.
"What if I want to be more like her?” Matilda dared him. “What if I truly want to become Erzsebet Bathory?"
"Then we'll have a problem.” His lips traced over her knuckles biting playfully over each bone.
"You can't make decisions for me.” Matilda jum
ped up and walked around the room in a sassy little prance.
Eyes locked and challenged the other possessing each pair. “You can believe what you want to believe.” Armand nodded. “In fact, I'm pretty sure you do, but I want you to know our purpose so you don't pursue your own agenda."
"Okay.” Her cheeks filled with hot air before she let it out. “I give up. Tell me what we're doing here, Armand. You've been dying to tell me, and since death doesn't become you, let's get this over with right now. Let me in on the rest of it. You've kept me in suspense for far too long."
He patted the desk. “Sit."
She seemed reluctant. “You know, anything you say now doesn't matter to me. You've shown me how to love you and maybe that's all I need to know from you. Maybe the rest of it doesn't matter."
"But it does and for the record, I didn't have to show you how to love me. You love me because you can't get enough of me.” He smirked catching an elbow in his ribs.
He leaned back allowing his weight to rest on strong manly arms. “Matilda, Nellie is your mother. I don't know why that's important, but it is. I'm going to guess that there is a love-hate with you both that will extend far past the surface, since you don't have much of a recollection of her in your childhood."
Matilda stared straight ahead. “Nellie is my mother?” She swallowed hard, the shock of it taking its form in her facial expression.
Armand nodded. “I just put it together today, or I would've told you sooner."
"I believe you.” She nodded and then tried to look closer at him. “I think I believe you.” She narrowed her eyes.
"You can. I didn't have to tell you now."
"Right. So what does all this mean?"
Armand slowly began to explain everything he could to her. “I think, and I'm not sure about this, but I believe in some twist of fate that she was caught in conflict between Vlad and Erzsebet all those years ago. I believe that's why this blending of bloodlines between us has been so important to her."
Bewitching Purpose [Blending Bloodlines Series Book Two] Page 4