Heliotropic 3: To the Light
Page 8
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Retkove’s fangs throbbed as he watched Paul begin to feed off Val. He’d have given anything to be there, in Paul’s place. If he couldn’t be with Val the way he wanted, he’d accept joining both of them, if they’d open their vampiric embrace to him. Despite his erotic afternoon, culminating in sucking Val’s cock, he grew hard with his need, and the rage of frustrated desire surged through his veins. He stroked himself as he watched the two of them shut him out completely.
While Paul had his mouth to Val’s jugular, while both men were vulnerable in their ecstasy, he’d burst in on them. They’d have to accept him. He’d find a way to force them to… Hell, with the two of them so lost in each other, he could destroy them both. In moments, he could drive stakes through their selfish hearts. If he couldn’t have Val, no one should.
Erection close to bursting, he stalked over to where they writhed together, lost in a sexual haze of mutual pleasure. They couldn’t exclude him. He’d use his hypnotic powers to freeze them to one spot, find the stakes and make short work of his agony.
Arms raised, he stopped and froze. They could exclude him from their private embrace. After all, Val and Paul and the whole planet of Apoll’ex had opened arms of forgiveness to him. They’d given him that most precious of gifts -- a second chance. But not even the Apollans would extend that mercy indefinitely. He could throw their gift back at them in the harshest of ways and thus manage to corrupt this paradise, too.
Though it was the hardest thing he’d ever done, he pulled back. Despite his temptation to fuck it up by yet again crashing in where he wasn’t invited and imposing violence when he couldn’t get his way otherwise, this time Retkove would do it right. This time, he’d accept the love he was offered without trying to steal what could never be his.
After a last reluctant look at Val and Paul, Retkove turned and moved away. Shuddering with the effort it cost him, instead of killing Val and Paul, Retkove opened his arms to the loving rays of the setting sun.
Mardi Ballou
Writing books is a dream come true for Mardi Ballou. Multi-published in erotic and mainstream romance, Mardi lives in Northern California with her hero husband, a knight in shining armor who provides both tech support and expert massage. No, she doesn’t share. Mardi loves to travel, racking up frequent flyer miles to visit her family in England and her native country, New Jersey. She wishes she could live in a structure big enough to house all the books and quilts she covets and have enough time to enjoy them all. She’s still waiting to achieve her second major dream -- winning an Oscar in some yet-to-be-created category she might qualify for. If you know how to make this happen or just want to schmooze, drop in on Mardi at MardiBallou.com