Vampires in America

by D. B. Reynolds

  Raphael’s grip on her hair tightened painfully a moment before he shouted her name. She tasted the first salty rush of his cum, sucking it all down and swallowing as he thrust into her mouth over and over, until finally he relaxed into the chair, his fingers stroking carefully through her tangled hair.

  Cyn was licking the cum from his still-hard erection when he suddenly pulled her up and into his arms as he stood. He strode to the bed and lowered her gently before tugging away her socks, then her soft stretchy pants and panties all at once. Raphael tore his own clothes away with a speed that only a vampire could match, then spread her legs and settled between them, lowering his big body onto hers, pressing her into the mattress. Resting his weight on his elbows, he stroked a few strands of hair off her face.

  “I love you, my Cyn. Even if all else failed, you would be reason enough for me to keep living.”

  Cyn wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him down, loving the way his weight crushed against her, the press of firm muscle against her soft breasts. “You’d better keep living, fang boy,” she whispered back. “Or I’ll haunt you forever.”

  He grinned, and she saw a little bit of his usual arrogance fill his expression for the first time since he’d heard about his friend. He didn’t say anything, just started moving, stroking his cock against her wet sex, the hard length caressing her clit with every movement. She ran her hands down the length of his back, savoring the feel of all that smooth muscle beneath her fingers, until she gripped his ass.

  “Raphael,” she breathed.

  “My Cyn,” he crooned back at her.

  “Fuck me. Now.”

  Raphael’s laughter was the sweetest sound she’d heard in a long time. He lifted his hips enough to slide the tip of his cock into her slick heat, filling her with a long, steady thrust until she was stretched inside and out as her body accommodated the length and breadth of him. And, oh God, it felt so good. There was nothing in the world that she loved more than this connection between them, the way their bodies fit, as if made for each other. Which should have been impossible, but somehow it wasn’t.

  He fucked her with hard, quick thrusts. Pulling nearly completely out of her, leaving only the very tip of his cock inside her quivering pussy, before plunging deep inside her once more. She could feel the walls of her vagina trembling around him, and knew she was stretched so tightly that he had to be feeling it, too. The thought excited her, and she moaned, rubbing her breasts against him wantonly.

  Raphael hissed when she lifted her legs higher, when his cock slid deep inside her until it was touching her cervix with every thrust. Cyn could hear herself moaning, little wordless cries that echoed the tightening of her vaginal walls, the first humming shivers of excitement in her womb. She groaned loudly and dug her fingers into Raphael’s tight ass.

  He grinned, and the sight of his fangs sliding into view sent a trill of excitement through her entire body, a rippling shiver that started in her breasts, tightening her nipples and rolling down through her abdomen and directly to her clit, which pulsed in arousal. Cyn cried out in relief when Raphael lowered his mouth to her neck, his tongue a long, slow stroke of warm wetness, before his teeth closed teasingly over her skin.

  Cyn was panting by the time she felt the first shiver of an orgasm, felt the slam of Raphael’s cock as it pushed through the trembling, tight walls of her pussy, felt the shiver turn into a convulsion that bowed her back as Raphael lifted his mouth . . . and sank his fangs into her vein. She screamed as the euphoric in his bite shot through her body, stroking every nerve with a velvet fist, squeezing her inner muscles around Raphael’s cock until every movement was a brush of ecstasy, a tremor of sheer pleasure that went on and on.

  Raphael’s slow, steady strokes became more frenzied as he neared his own release. She felt the slap of his balls with every thrust, the warmth of his breath as he drank her blood. And then he lifted his head with a roar, as the heated rush of his release seared her insides as surely as his silver gaze seared her soul.

  They lay together for several minutes, hearts pounding, lungs working, as they came down from the bliss that was always the climax of their lovemaking. Raphael held her against his chest, and she listened to the strong beat of his heart.

  “I love you, you know.”

  “I know,” he said, and even as she slapped his firm belly, it made her happy to hear that note of smugness return to his voice.

  “I love you, too, my Cyn,” he said solemnly. “You are mine. Now and forever.”

  The End

  Vampire Vignette #11

  My Heart

  Not long after the events in LUCAS, Book Six

  South Dakota

  LUCAS WATCHED on his surveillance cam as Kathryn parked by the front stairs. The door to her Jeep swung open, and her long legs appeared, one at a time, as she slid out of the vehicle. She was wearing a dress tonight, unusual in itself, but this one was sexy as hell. Black, short, and tight, showing lots of leg above a pair of black stiletto heels. He couldn’t see the shoes well on camera, but he knew they’d be shiny leather stilettos with lots of skinny straps around the ankles, and that they’d been made by a designer with a famous name. And he knew these things because he’d bought them for her last month.

  Kathryn worked in a man’s world. In order to succeed in that world, she had to minimize her femininity, and, too often, she carried that home with her. But Kathryn was the sexiest woman he’d ever met, the only woman he’d ever loved, the only one who’d ever inspired him to embrace the concept of monogamy. He’d wanted to give her something sensuous, something that said he thought of her first and foremost as a desirable woman. He’d considered lingerie, but that seemed too ordinary, almost a cliché. So, he’d asked Raphael’s mate, Cyn, for a recommendation, and she’d immediately said, “shoes.” And then, not trusting him to pick the right ones, she’d provided a selection and let him make the final choice.

  Kathryn had loved them. The look on her face had been enough to tell him he’d done the right thing. But that she’d chosen to wear them tonight, for the first time, touched him more than he would have thought possible. Tonight was important for him, important for them. They’d been as close as two people could be for the last several months, but there’d been a part of Kathryn that she’d always held back, a reluctance to take the final step, to commit to the full potential of their relationship—the relationship of a vampire lord and his mate. She let him take her blood whenever he wanted, which was every time they made love, and she even took small tastes of his. It was enough to connect them, but never enough to form the mate bond.

  Lucas had never pushed her to commit beyond her comfort level. He didn’t want her to mate with him only because he wanted it. He wanted her to choose it for herself. Even so, he’d been surprised when she did. When she’d proposed to him, just as one would for a marriage. He loved that she’d been the one to propose, rather than the more traditional form. And he intended to tease her with that fact for a very long time.

  But until he’d seen her wearing those shoes tonight, he hadn’t been sure she was doing it for the right reasons. War was coming to the North American vampires, a war that would test loyalties and commitments to the point of breaking. Lucas had discussed the situation with Kathryn, just as he discussed all his business with her. And he’d been half-convinced that she had only proposed their mating in order to strengthen him for the coming war. He knew she loved him, that she wanted to protect him, but that wasn’t what he wanted from her. He wanted her to want him. Seeing her tonight in her little black dress and the sexy shoes he’d bought for her himself. . . . She was dressed for seduction, and he knew she desired him, just as he did her.

  He started for the front door using his vampire speed so that by the time she reached the top step, he was there waiting for her. There was no one else home, at least not in the main house. He�
��d made sure of it. Vampires were closely linked to their Sire, a link that was only made stronger by physical proximity. And he had no desire for anyone to eavesdrop on what he and Kathryn were about to share.

  THE DOOR OPENED as Kathryn took the last step. She looked up in surprise, smiling when she saw Lucas standing there. He held out his hand, pulling her into an embrace as soon as their fingers touched. She sighed with pleasure as his strong arms surrounded her, relaxing for the first time in days when he tucked her against his broad chest. Kathryn was an independent and capable woman. A trained FBI sniper, she could take out a target a mile away. She was skilled in hand-to-hand combat, regularly worked out, and was fully capable of defending herself. But somehow, Lucas wiped all of that away and made her feel delicate, feminine, protected.

  “A cuisle,” he murmured, burying his face in her hair. “You look beautiful.”

  Kathryn slipped her arms around his narrow waist and felt his embrace tighten.

  “We don’t have to do this, Katie mine,” he whispered. “Not unless you’re ready.”

  He’d probably felt her heart pounding against his chest, or maybe heard it with that super-vamp hearing of his. It was the one problem with having a vampire lover. It was nearly impossible to keep anything from him. Good thing she made it a policy not to lie to anyone who mattered to her. And Lucas most definitely mattered.

  She leaned back to meet his eyes directly. “I’m ready, Lucas. I want this. I want you.”

  “You’re trembling.”

  “Because I’m excited. Trust me to know my own mind.”

  He grinned. “One of the things I love most about you . . . I never roll over you. Except in bed, of course.”

  “Only because I don’t let you.”

  “True enough. Are we going to stand in the doorway all night?”

  “I don’t know. Are you going to invite me in?”

  “This is your home, Kathryn,” he told her, suddenly serious. “You don’t need an invitation.”

  Tears stung her eyes as she touched her mouth to his. “I love you,” she whispered. Lucas deepened the kiss briefly, then wrapped an arm around her waist and led her inside, closing the door behind them.

  “Come on,” he said, his hand slipping from her hip to her lower back as they walked down the hallway. “I have champagne and roses in the sitting room.”

  “Fantastic. We can take them with us when we go downstairs.”

  “Downstairs?”

  “To your bedroom, Lucas,” she explained patiently. “I don’t need to be wooed.”

  “I don’t want to rush—”

  “Lucas,” she said turning to face him head-on. “I’ve thought about all of this. I’ve done nothing but think about it for weeks.”

  And that was the truth. She’d gone over all the obstacles he’d presented her with after she’d proposed to him. He’d warned her about all the pitfalls—not because he didn’t want her to mate with him, but because he didn’t want her to regret it once she did. For all his talk about running roughshod over everyone to get what he wanted, Lucas was an honorable man. And so he’d made sure she knew the downsides to mating with a vampire. They’d never have children, but then, she’d never planned on children anyway. She’d raised her brother; that was enough. There was the violent reality of a vampire’s life, especially a vampire lord. But she knew that, too. She remembered the damage to Nick’s face on that long-ago night in the club parking lot, the blood coating Lucas’s leathers. She knew Lucas could be challenged at any moment, and that he could die. But how was that different from anyone else? Everyone could die without warning. And those who worked in law enforcement, like Kathryn herself, risked their lives every day. Maybe Lucas was the one taking a chance, instead of her.

  And, yeah, she knew there was a war coming that would put Lucas at even greater risk. But instead of dissuading her from mating with him, it had been knowledge of the coming war that had made her all the more determined. Not because she wouldn’t have mated with him otherwise, but because she wanted to be sure he survived this war, and together, they were immeasurably stronger than they were apart.

  Besides, she loved the arrogant bastard and couldn’t imagine life without him.

  “If you’re sure—” he asked.

  “Are you trying to talk me out of it? Tonight?”

  “Hell, no,” he said, tightening his hold on her waist again and hustling her down the hall. “Just being polite.”

  Kathryn laughed. “Lucas, what about the champagne and roses?” she asked as he rushed past the turn to the sitting room.

  “There’s plenty of champagne downstairs,” he assured her. “And who needs roses when I’ve got your sweet self?” He urged her into the elevator, crowding her against the back wall even before the door closed, every inch of his powerful body pressed up against hers.

  “I like the shoes, a cuisle.”

  “You like them?” she said coyly, holding one foot out and admiring the sexy designer pump. “I love them.”

  “Well, then—” he murmured, “—you’ll have to leave them on when I fuck you.”

  Her eyes widened when they met his. “Won’t that hurt you?”

  “Hurts so good,” he purred.

  “Lucas,” she said, suddenly breathless.

  The elevator door opened and he scooped her up as if she weighed nothing. Which she certainly did not. She wasn’t used to being carried around like the princess in some fairy tale. But as she wound her arms around Lucas’s neck, she had to admit that those princesses had the right idea.

  Lucas carried her directly to this big bed, deposited her carefully, then followed her down until he was stretched out next to her. Or rather, mostly on top of her.

  “Did you want champagne?” he asked quietly, playing with the strands of her long hair, which she’d left down tonight, because he liked it that way.

  “Not really.” She cupped his handsome jaw. “Tell me how we do this.”

  “It’s not so different from our usual rounds of incredible sex,” he said, stopping when she rolled her eyes. “Are you saying sex with me isn’t incredible?”

  “Of course, it’s incredible. I love it when you fuck me, the harder the better.”

  His gaze heated at her deliberate crudity. “Kathryn, if you want me to make it through this explanation, you’ll have to stop saying things like that.”

  “Like what?” she asked, tugging his head down until she was speaking directly into his ear. “You mean, I can’t talk about how much I love the feel of your cock sliding into my pussy? Or how you get so deep inside me, I can’t tell where I end and you begin?”

  “Kathryn,” he growled.

  “Or how wet I am right now—” she whispered, “—just thinking about fucking you all night long?” She stroked her hands over the breadth of his shoulders, sliding her fingers up and into the silky thickness of his hair.

  “And now you’ve done it,” he crooned, nibbling delicately along the curve of her neck, his hand sliding up her outer thigh, her skirt crumpled in his fist as he shoved it up to her waist. She was wearing her tiniest pair of panties underneath, nothing but a lacy triangle and a few strings. The kind of thing she’d never worn before meeting Lucas, but she’d worn it tonight because she’d known they’d end up like this. Lucas liked to touch and stroke, to lick and taste.

  The first thing he always did upon seeing her was caress her in some way. If they were in public, he’d take her hand and stroke her fingers, or put an arm around her and squeeze her hip or shoulder. Simply touching her wasn’t enough; he had to pet her. And on a night like this, when it was only the two of them, it was almost a sure thing that he’d immediately go for bare skin. The sooner the better. It showed her just how determined he was not to rush her, that he’d been prepared to slow everything down when she arr
ived, to sit by the fireplace and sip champagne, if that’s what she’d wanted.

  It made her love him even more. But she didn’t want to slow down. She wanted Lucas and she wanted him now. Which was why she’d deliberately provoked him, and why his strong fingers were even now slipping between her thighs, pushing her legs open, and dipping beneath the pretty lace triangle.

  “The wrapping is very pretty, a cuisle,” he whispered, his breath warm against skin already damp from his kisses. He snapped the slender band holding her thong together. “But not nearly as pretty as the pussy it hides.”

  Kathryn exhaled a shuddery breath, her nails digging into Lucas’s scalp as she bent her knees upward, lifting herself eagerly to his touch. She felt his mouth curve into a smile.

  “So hungry,” he murmured. “Do your FBI friends know what you’re hiding beneath those staid blue suits of yours?”

  “They don’t think about it,” she whispered, shocked at how difficult it was already to breathe, and he’d barely begun.

  “They’d better not,” he growled, even though he’d been the one who brought it up.

  His fingers stabbed suddenly deep inside her and she groaned. “Lucas,” she gasped.

  “Mmmm,” he said absently, too busy fucking her with his fingers, withdrawing enough to spread her juices over the lips of her pussy, circling her clit without ever touching it.

  “Take off your clothes,” she said breathlessly.

  He lifted lazy eyes to meet hers, then slowly and deliberately slid his fingers out of her pussy, lifted them to his mouth and sucked, his tongue winding around and between, as if to be sure he caught every bit of her glistening arousal.

  “Delicious,” he commented, then just as slowly grabbed the ends of his sweater and tugged it over his head, tossing it aside before standing to toe off his boots, undoing the buttons on his jeans and sliding them down . . . and Kathryn forgot to breathe as she admired the powerful elegance of his shoulders and chest, the hard ridges of muscle rippling over his abdomen, his flat belly, and narrow hips.