Eternal screamed, clutching desperately onto a tapestry.
Lucien leapt from the top of the stairs and grabbed hold of one of Eternal’s legs. With malicious desire, he raised his sword and placed its quivering tip between her legs. “I die ... you die.” He laughed with such cruelty to see his sword leave small scratches on her upper thighs.
Edouard used the shattered timbers to haul himself to the surface of the wine lake. He dragged himself onto the hall floor, the entire section of stairs and upper hallway crashing down around him.
He gripped the wound in his chest, feeling the bloodless hole begin to knit back together. The healing pain caused him to double up, the heat of a branding iron searing his flesh. He wondered how he could feel pain if he was dead?
Edouard looked up to see Lucien hanging by one hand to Eternal’s kicking legs. Chunks of ceiling plaster rained down.
Eternal screamed and relinquished her hold of the tapestry taking Lucien with her into the wine lake.
Lucien lunged with his sword but his weakened state favored Eternal. He sank below the surface desperately swishing his blade with a terrible need for vengeance.
Edouard pulled Eternal to him. There was no time for delay. He gripped Eternal’s hand and both ran out of the main door. He ignored the searing rays of the evening sun and hopped into the Mercedes with steam rising from his exposed flesh.
Eternal stepped back into the shadows of the chateau’s grand hall.
Edouard started the car and drove across the garden and through the broken French doors.
The car smashed the dining table against a wall and crashed through the heavy doors to the grand hall.
Once more Lucien stood staring at Eternal with the blade gleaming in his hand. It was now or never. Just one quick slash and drink her essence to become eternal. He turned to see the dining room doors splintering around him. There was no time to scream.
The sword fell from his hands, the front grill of his father’s Mercedes chewing his torso to ribbons.
All the evil Lucien had caused erupted before his eyes – forcing his Delicate Rose to drink blood – condemning her to years of misery in the turret – the many kills he had inflicted on the people of Paris – massacring the Moreaus – and last of all shooting his parents dead with his father’s revolver – until all that was left was a frightened teenage boy, named Lucien.
Lucien had enough time to scream out, “I love you my Sweet Rose!”
For the last time he tasted his family’s wine. His lungs rapidly filled with Chateau Dupont, ridding Douvrey of Lucien and the Dupont family name forever.
~~~~
Eternal ran into Edouard’s arms knowing the game was finally over – the eternal curse that was Ba’al had been lifted. She wept dry tears with rapturous relief.
She and Edouard watched the murderous Mercedes sink into the wine lake carrying Lucien to where he belonged.
To their horror a massive series of bubbles burst to the surface. Something vile and black as soot escaped from the froth. The corrupt essence of Ba’al opened its fire red eyes and screamed all the way into the dark rip which swallowed it up in an instant.
Chapter 60
Edouard stood hypnotized with images of Eternal born from Sekhmet, bald vampire queen and Egyptian Goddess. Her birth was drawn from a stone sarcophagus. Its heavy stone cover slid open and a mature Eternal was revealed, naked, bald and beautiful. Eternal was given life with Sekhmet’s blood – “I give my daughter life and her name shall be Eternal!” Dark tresses appeared upon Eternal’s head. Fangs sprouted from her mouth. She hissed and stepped from her birthing chamber.
He snapped out of her allure to the full moon’s lustrous bloom and looked into Eternal’s eyes, sighing with eternal joy. Something was wrong. His head throbbed with a buzzing of furious bees. His throat was on fire as was his blood, now acid searing every organ, muscle and bone. His need for sustenance was overwhelming. He panicked.
Edouard groaned with relief, his mind joined with Eternal’s, sharing her calming thoughts, her feelings. The blood fire diminished. The silence was all encompassing and so exquisite. They were one. Neither could live without the other. He sat up on the bed and listened to every other occupant of the hotel in Montmartre.
Edouard clearly heard a man slapping his girlfriend for cheating on him. Images of two prostitutes pleasuring their client projected upon his mind. Eternal’s music switched them off. How absolutely divine to live an eternity with music in your heart, he thought.
He opened the window and tried breathing deeply the smells of the city and faltered hearing Eternal’s giggling. This was one habit difficult to ignore.
He could clearly define a dog defecating close by, the rotting food outside a café, the stink of car fumes and the basic stench of humanity that crammed the city like sardines in a tin. Edouard’s nose wrinkled with disgust urging him to close the window. He much preferred the smells of the country but alas they required the anonymity of the masses to conceal their true nature.
Eternal laughed with delight at Edouard’s newfound senses. She leapt from the bed to join him.
Edouard’s libido was heightened to preposterous levels, his twitching penis begging for sex. He chased his true love around the room, trapping her in the bathroom where they entwined in a lovers’ embrace. He entered her with a gentle thrust and slowly danced to her rhythm. It was glorious to experience Eternal’s intense orgasm enwrapping them both in her gentle embrace.
Later that night the desire to feed became an intolerable need. The eternal vampires hurriedly dressed in fashionable black, courtesy of the Moreaus then left the hotel to experience the delights on offer. They strolled past the Moreaus’ white Rolls Royce, parked in a side street.
The Pigalle bustled with garishly dressed whores plying their trade. Some didn’t even bother to cover their womanhood, hitching fashionable knee-length dresses high enough for prospective customers to catch a wink of the pink.
Eternal walked arm in arm with Edouard down the busy street, attracting admiring glances from both sexes. A young sailor caught her eye.
“Can I do it while he watches?” he asked.
Eternal laughed, nodding yes. She led him into a dark alley, sensing for troublesome pimps within the shadows. Satisfied she would not be disturbed Eternal removed the sailor’s rampant penis. While she stroked his twitching member she gleamed her fangs. Her incisors grew longer and sharper with her bloodlust. She sank her teeth into the sailor’s neck as he ejaculated with sweet pain under her hypnotic allure cloaking him in a deadly web of pleasure.
Edouard watched with rampant desire, his own erection needing immediate attention. He waited for Eternal to finish, casually leaning against a filthy wall.
Deeper into the night, Edouard took Eternal to the Cimetiere du Montmartre. There, he placed a blood red rose on his parents’ graves. “Please forgive me for what I am about to do for the rest of my unnatural life.”
Edouard sensed a beautiful woman crying over her departed loved one. He drifted through the encroaching ground mist to the source of the sound. With his darkly sweet music he hypnotized the young woman. He gleamed his fangs and drank her arterial essence. The pain was immediately addictive. His heart started to pound. His blood felt on fire. His skin tingled all over and he ejaculated while caressing her sleek neck with his lips. The intense flavors surged through him, making him weak at the knees.
Edouard dragged his prey to the damp grass, drinking her glorious ripeness, seasoned by wealth and good taste. He cried dry tears while the sweet essence of life filled him with a beauty specific to this woman. But he could not take this sad woman’s life, even though she would welcome release from her miserable existence. He licked the neck wound until it knitted back to a slight bruise. He left her dazed and confused, lying next to her loved one’s grave with the moon shining brightly above.
Eternal grabbed Edouard’s hand. They raced off into the night, laughing with joyous exaltation.
Eternal stopped outside the Ritz, listening to familiar sounds. “I wonder what Coco tastes like?”
“Let’s find out.” Edouard gleamed his fangs.
Au Revoir.
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Dreamz
(The Wunder Prequel)
By
A.R. Von
Introduction
Wunder isn’t your average girl in fact—she isn’t even an average human. In a world ravaged by Zombies, she was born amidst the chaos. She may have a normal life now...well as normal as a freak of nature could have. Part zombie while her job is to hunt bloodthirsty creatures to protect the innocent. It’s the dreams that haunt her and they aren’t nightmares. Wunder dreams of a man, a man made just for her. Is he real, can he be the one she‘s yearned for?
Wunder’s life has been far from perfect so far, secretly being part Zombie in a world devastated by the plague of the walking dead. Still, she knew there was something special awaiting her, someone out there who could change everything and she did find him. Pete is everything she dreamed of and more as she discovers passion and fulfillment for the first time in her life.
Pete has his own secrets to tell. His world is a lonely one as he wrestles with the reality of being part zombie. His hatred for the creatures that killed his parents drives him to patrol the streets and wipe them all out. His life would be stark, but for the dreams he’s been having; of a woman, so sensuous, so sexy. These alluring visions have become erotic and consuming. He feels as if he made her up to keep from going crazy. Is this life of hunting the walking dead, all there is? Or is she out there waiting—just for him?
Wunder’s life turns into a journey of discoveries. Secrets from the past come full circle and her world is changed forever. In the coming chaos, can she keep her new found happiness and the man of her dreams?
~Wunder~
Twenty five years ago, the spread of the virus was out of control. My mom and dad were just trying to survive, and keep their unborn child safe. It was a dark time for the world—for my parents.
I’ve heard the stories from some who escaped being infected. I’ve heard many things about that time in history, when everything went to hell. These people around me remained normal though; they were average human beings as they should be.
As for me, I’ve never known what it was like to be fully human—normal. I was born with a touch of infected DNA within me. Making me a quarter part zombie.
My parents were what you would call bad-asses; they’d survived the infection and the swarms of biters for a long time—years, because they did what they had to do. They weren’t scared of the blood and the gore—they did what was needed to survive.
All was going as well as could be expected, considering the chaos happening in the world, with the desperate search for safe shelter, food and drinkable water. Every day was a quest to live, and to keep from being a meal yourself.
One day, my parents were out looking for supplies and were attacked by a hoard of the infected. It was a close call for them—as far as I was told having been overpowered by an abundance of vile, blood hungry zombies, who pretty much ambushed them as only predators could.
My father used a hatchet, combined with a few other weapons, concealed on his body to behead and permanently destroy everything in his path.
At eight months pregnant, my mother carried light weight guns and plenty of ammo on her person. She was taught by her husband to aim and shoot for the kill—with no hesitation.
Both of them took down zombie, after nasty zombie while holding their position, back to back to one another.
They didn’t see the one slimy fucker on its belly, crawling its way toward their right side, the side closest to my mother. By the time the creep was spotted, it bit my mother on her ankle. She was screaming in pain and terror, she kicked the bastard in the face, while still shooting others down.
My father swiftly pointed his 9mm at the scum’s head, turning its brains to permanent sauce. They both finished off the rest of the obnoxious pests, before running as fast as possible toward the safety of their house. Once back home, my father was a frantic mess. Although, my mother continued to tell him she felt fine, he feared any type of help would be too late.
You see, the virus takes an average of three days to run its course. This was a fact they both knew. One can be saved, if the infected part is amputated within approximately thirty minutes of being bitten. The zombie had bitten her two hours prior by the time they reached safety, which meant it was already too late to even try.
My mother kept begging for my father to save the baby and kill her—to spare her from becoming one of them.
In truth, he would rather die himself than do such a thing to the woman he loved. He told me so each time he spoke about her. He said without her, this already hellish world would finally be a place not worth surviving in or trying to save. “Jasmine, hold on for me? Please love, just hold on.”
“It burns, Lance. All over, I feel like my blood is on fire”. Suddenly, she screamed and liquid pooled all around her bottom. “Lance the baby—it’s coming, now!”
“All right love, just hold tight. I’ll get you through this. We’ll get through this.”
According to my dad, I was out in no time flat. He barely had enough time to collect the supplies needed for my delivery when he saw the top of my head.
My mother gave a few good long pushes while screaming out in pain.
“It’s a girl!” My father yelled happily.
My mom was in and out of consciousness after my arrival. “Let me see her, Lance,” she finally murmured. “I want to hold her.”
He carefully handed me over to her and my mother sighed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Wunder—our little miracle.”
“What’s that, love?” My father asked.
“Her name; Wunder, our baby...our little miracle. I think it fits perfectly. Don’t you, darling? Especially, in the times we’re living in.” She softly kissed the top of my head.
“Yes, love. It’s perfect, she’s a blessing to us—our miracle.”
That would be the end of his atrocious yet happy fairy tale, and my father has never told me more than that. He’s always let things hang right there—the fight with the zombies, then my miraculous birth. His eyes would shine when he repeated the part where his wife gave me my name. Each and every time he spoke about the day of my birth, he would always stop right there, after my naming. He never told me what really happened with my mother and I’ve always let it go no matter how badly I wanted to know...
Dreamz
Why? Why the torture? Each and every single night since I became a woman, I awaken sweating, panting, hot and bothered from pure sexual yearning. So many times with my hand rubbing my most intimate place. Always due to a dream, so many dreams. Each one is different, but all contain the same faceless dark haired stranger.
“UGH!”
The only things I know for sure is he is tall, with raven black hair, the same color as mine, but much shorter. He has the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. Glowing eyes, eyes which seem to be able to see into my soul. To see my heart’s deepest desires and he always grants them to me without pause or question. It felt strange at first, seeing him and yet not. Not being able to make out his facial features, except for his eyes. I got used to it throughout the years, I guess. One thing I DO know—is the way he makes me feel, always.
So much passion, heat and desire with each touch and spoken word. He makes me feel beautiful, irreplaceable and wanted in a way, I imagine, every woman wants to feel.
Frustration at its finest each and every time. This latest dream seemed more realistic than all of the others. I still feel the ripples on my skin from his touch; the most intimate touch I’ve ever experienced, the only touch from a male I’ve had in such a manner, all from him. The
goose bumps are just starting to go away. His caress is always so sensual and arousing. My mouth is still dry from all of the panting I’ve done with this dream, my panties are drenched and my heart is still pounding.
This recent dream was the most erotic I’ve ever had. I’m talking porn worthy. There are no words in this dream, no conversation...only actions, the sounds of pleasure and the breeze passing through the leaves. It starts with me completely nude with my hair in a high pony tail. My hands and legs are bound to a tree as if I was being offered as a sacrifice. My arms were spread wide, pulled slightly above my head. My legs spread as far as they could go. My feet were settled comfortably against a thick flat root on each side. One would think he somehow positioned the branches just so, so that he could tie me this way.
I even remember seeing the type of tree once before in Georgia. They were all over the place and I was fascinated by them because of how their roots grew part above ground and managed to still look so beautiful. I later found out they’re known as Centenarian trees and absolutely perfect for climbing and I guess for tying people up on too. Who would have thought! Now that I think about it. The surrounding area looks just like the place I visited, minus the people and carnage. I wonder how we ended up here...?
Once he seemed content with his work, he tortured me in the sweetest of ways. Nips, licks, suckling, and caresses everywhere and anywhere he could reach. Quick as a flash, my dream man drops to his knees and places his head between my legs; his tongue doing a sensual dance against my clit as two of his fingers are pumping furiously into my pussy. The combination is so painfully pleasurable. After some time, he even places a finger slowly within my rear entrance while continuing to eat my pussy like a starving man.
I not once thought it would be such a pleasurable feeling. I’ve never thought of anyone or anything touching my dark hole, or any hole for that matter. But now I know. The combination of all he is doing, makes me feel as if I am dying, floating away, never to return.
Voracious Vixens, 13 Novels of Sexy Horror and Hot Paranormal Romance Page 45
