Into the Darkness

by Delilah Devlin

  Back in the bedroom, she went to the small windows high on the wall opposite the bed and pulled back thick curtains. The windows were barred. When she shoved up the frame, wind whipped inside, but a glance outside revealed no nearby houses she might shout to for help—a brick wall lay in the distance beyond a wide green lawn below.

  No help there.

  A trembling shook her body as she realized they were trapped—at the mercy of whoever held them.

  However, what frightened her most was the hunger that gnawed at her belly. Already, a tingling, prickling itch grew in the roof of her mouth, and although she tried to resist, her incisors slid down, the thin razor points biting into her lower lip.

  She opened her mouth and dragged in a deep breath, tilting back her head to draw cooler air inside her mouth, hoping to relieve the ache.

  Her tongue touched each sharp tip, scraping lightly, raising a droplet of blood—it was enough to cause a moan of want to tear from her throat.

  She stumbled back into the bathroom and poured a glass of water from the carafe beside the sink. She drank it down without pausing for a breath, hoping to assuage her thirst.

  As she lowered the glass, a glance in the gilt-edged mirror revealed a reflection she barely recognized. Her tangled hair framed a gaunt, strained face. Her lips were swollen and pink, and the fangs curving from beneath her upper lip extended below her gaping lower lip.

  But the differences didn’t end there. Her pale skin had acquired a faint, bluish tinge. She unwound the lacy throw and let it pool at her feet. Her body, always plumply curved, appeared to have lost a bit of flesh. Her breasts seemed tighter, the nipples drawn and pointed. The indention of her waist was a little more defined.

  Then she noticed the dark brown smears on her inner thighs and remembered the powerful, sensual thrill that had gripped her body when Rene had thrust hard inside her the first time.

  Her pussy clenched and a trickle of moisture escaped.

  Her teeth sank into her lip, but she welcomed the stinging bite—anything not to think about what she craved most at this very moment.

  Every part of her body ached to crawl over Rene’s body, rub her swollen breasts against his chest and drive her hips down to take his cock deep inside—while she drank her fill of his blood.

  She whirled toward the shower stall beside a large claw-foot tub and flung back the glass door, reaching blindly inside for the lever that controlled the flow of water. She pulled it out and spun it left, setting the temperature high.

  Before the steam rose, she stepped beneath the scalding water, letting the searing pulses strafe her body. She sank on the ledge at the back of the shower and gripped the edge with her hands.

  But the heat didn’t relax, didn’t help loosen the grip of her desires.

  The pulses caressed her nipples, tightening the tips. She lifted her hands to cover them, but couldn’t resist the urge to cup and massage the ache swelling her breasts.

  She leaned back and opened her legs, letting the spray sweep between her thighs. For a moment, it seemed to help. It was almost enough to appease the raging need.

  Then a tension built in her womb, a slow, curling heat that forced her hands between her legs. She sank two fingers into her vagina, thrusting inside and withdrawing—again and again, until her hips moved on the slick tile beneath her ass to counter the movements.

  Christ! It wasn’t enough. She speared another finger inside herself and rubbed the top of her pussy with the ball of her palm, grinding hard.

  When it hit, her orgasm had her crying out, shuddering as her frantic movements slowed.

  Afterward, she wrapped her arms around her belly and cried, because she knew this was only a short respite.

  She bathed herself, using a rough loofah to scrape the last of the tiny scabs from her arms and legs. The skin beneath the wounds was pink, but completely healed. One more question to be answered.

  When she went back into the bedroom, Rene still slept, stretched across the bed. Like an offering. Hers to take.

  She lay down beside him and curved her body close to share his heat. Her skin shivered, but deep inside the heat rose again to test her will.

  CHAPTER 7

  Her body warmed as she cuddled closer. This close and this turned on, all she could do was stare at the virile landscape lying right beside her—right within reach.

  Even relaxed, the masculine power remained leashed inside his form. His sheer size made her feel small and vulnerable. While they shared the same number of limbs and toes, the differences couldn’t be more striking…or thrilling.

  Dark hair peppered his arms and legs. An interesting arrow, thicker, softer darted down his stomach, opening over his groin. So unlike the sparse, pale hair between her legs.

  Everywhere she was soft—he wasn’t. Her breasts were pillowy, while his…

  Unable to resist, she smoothed her hands over his chest, cupping and molding the firm, muscled hillocks. How would it feel to have the right to sleep with her cheek resting above his heart, the steady beat a constant life-affirming comfort?

  Of course, she didn’t linger there for long, not with the most interesting territory lying to the south. She swept her hand downward to follow the trail of dark hair beckoning her fingers toward his sex. His cock rested along the top of his thigh—partially erect.

  She lifted her head, glad the daylight provided her first good look. A morning hard-on? She’d heard of them, but never actually seen the result.

  She nestled closer still, sliding her thigh toward his cock, arguing with herself all the while about whether she should continue to explore uninvited. “Rene?” she whispered.

  He didn’t so much as twitch.

  Tempted beyond shame, she reached a tentative hand for the part that fascinated her most. She lifted his penis and measured him with her fingers, the length and girth. Only partially filled, she could hardly believe her body had gloved him. The smooth-as-satin texture of the skin clothing his cock and the warmth pulsing inside her closed fist created a longing that cramped her belly.

  Slowly, his cock began to fill and lift away from his body, growing harder, larger within her grip. Her heart thudded loudly in her ears. Now, he was firm enough to fuck.

  Her mouth watered as she remembered his taste, and she scooted down the bed to nuzzle him with her nose—just to breathe in his scent. Maybe that would be enough.

  But the softness of the skin that clothed his rock-hard shaft tempted her to trail up his length with her sensitive tongue. When she reached the ridged cap, she couldn’t resist giving him a little kiss. Then she had to take him into her mouth, sucking, drawing on him until his sex grew even more rigid.

  Her tongue licked down the outside, tracing the fat vein throbbing just under the surface. When she reached his sac, she tilted her head and licked the inside of his shaft, all the way up to the ridge that circled the plump head. She squeezed her hand around him, noting her fingers didn’t touch, and licked the tip of him like an ice cream cone, lapping, swirling—until a drop of pearlescent liquid beaded in the tiny hole. Her tongue curved to take it, then returned to delve into the eyelet opening. The salty taste of his ejaculate left her hungrier for more.

  Soon, the hunger gnawing at her belly was replaced by a visceral, cramping need to feel him plunging deep inside her body.

  And even though she knew she was taking, again, she rose and straddled his hips, impaling herself on his cock. She worked him all the way inside her in short, bouncing strokes to ease him past the sore muscles, working up a creamy lather that soothed the hot, raw muscles of her channel.

  Still he slept under the influence of whatever drug they’d used to knock them out. While a niggling inner voice scolded her, reminding her what she did was wrong, she remembered how he’d felt thrusting inside her. Remorse was momentary in light of her overwhelming need, so she sank on him, using his cock to feed the hunger moistening her channel already rippling along his length.

  Awkward at first, she foun
d a rhythm and angle to her up and down strokes that built the familiar friction.

  Tentative at the start, soon she was thrusting hard against him, grunting softly with exertion as perspiration gathered at her temples and upper lip.

  He started to make waking noises and stir beneath her so she hurried. She gripped his shoulders when her movements shortened, pushed off from his chest when she needed greater height. Up and down, up and down—until her whole body tightened and her pussy burned. Her breaths grew jagged.

  Rene moved more restlessly beneath her, and her heart rate escalated. He wasn’t quite wakening, not yet, still in the grip of the drug and his dreams.

  Too far gone, she took advantage. She had to reach a climax. Closing her eyes, she leaned back and cupped her breasts, imagining his rougher palms squeezing them as she rode, jouncing hard against his hips.

  She opened her eyes, and her breath caught in her throat.

  He watched her.

  She couldn’t read his expression, but his jaw tightened, and his thighs trembled beneath hers. His hips lifted and he attempted to buck her body off. His teeth gritted as he tried to withhold his orgasm.

  Stubborn man. The newly discovered part of her that relished her role as aggressor tightened her thighs around his hips and held him still. She wouldn’t let him deny her release.

  When he continued to resist, she did the one thing she knew he wouldn’t be able to fight. She leaned over, capturing his wild gaze for a moment, and bit the top of his shoulder.

  “Noooo!” he groaned, and his hips lifted again, this time jerking up and into her, pounding in counterpoint to her downward thrusts.

  The battle between them only fueled her excitement. She thrust hard against him, taking him, demanding his orgasm as her inner muscles clamped tight around his cock and her jaws gripped him tight.

  Then the rapture swept over, filling her womb like his blood flooded the inside of her mouth. She drank and fucked, more slowly now, more deeply, murmuring her delight against his flesh.

  After the last tremors faded, she lay over him, her legs spread wide around his hips, his cock still embedded deep inside her. As she fought to catch her breath, she didn’t want to free him. Not yet. Instead, she lapped lazily to close the twin punctures on his shoulder.

  When the deep shuddering tremors subsided in his body, she lay still, almost afraid to see his expression. Too late, she acknowledged remorse for her actions. While she’d been in the grip of the hunger, the only thing that had mattered was filling the overwhelming need. She recognized this might be a pattern. Emotionally, she prepared herself for many such battles and losses.

  She leaned back and warily looked into his face.

  Anger burned in his eyes, and he rattled the chains attached to his wrists. “Now that you’re finished,” he bit out, “do you think you can find a way to get these off me?”

  “Good morning to you, too,” she said, not able to hold back the bitchy edge that crept into her voice. Her body still trembled with delicious little aftershocks she’d have liked to savor.

  Reluctance slowing her response, Natalie lifted up, letting his sex slip from her body.

  The flaring of his nostrils was the only hint of emotion he let her see.

  She clambered off the bed and dutifully followed the manacles on his wrists to the chains that draped over the end of the bed to the floor. The mattress was pulled away from the wall, and there was no headboard. The chains were soldered to metal plates bolted in the floor.

  She tugged hard at the chain, but made no progress. “We’ll need the key,” she said.

  “Well, find it, dammit,” he said, his voice rising.

  Natalie pushed a tendril of hair behind her ear. She still felt slightly dull, her body replete and sluggish as her mind. She looked at her hand and arm and noted her skin had lost its blue tinge.

  “Sometime this year,” he said, his irritation stretching out the last word.

  She ignored his testiness. He had every right to be rude—he was the one chained to a bed. “Where should I look?”

  “How the hell should I know?” he snarled. “Just start going through things. Begin with the dresser.”

  She went to the dark oak dresser, opening a little rosewood casket on top, but found it empty. All the drawers of the dresser were also empty. Nothing in the bedside table or in the bathroom cabinet other than toiletries.

  When she came out of the bathroom, she shrugged. “I didn’t find anything. Do you really think they’d put it somewhere we could get to it?”

  His lips twisted and one dark brow lifted. “’Course not, but looking kept you busy doing something else.”

  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what he meant by “something else”. Every time her gaze fell on him, she couldn’t resist checking out his body.

  “Well, we’re going to have to wait to ask about a key.”

  Rene pounded his head once on the mattress, frustration evident in the tightening of his chest and shoulders.

  Again, Natalie swept her glance over his body, feeling guilty about the secret pleasure of having him at her mercy. “Why would they put chains on you?”

  Rene turned his head and glared. “It’s kinda obvious they want to keep me here for you.”

  Only a little surprised, she replied, “You think they brought you here—for me? But why?”

  His lips twisted in a mocking smile. “To screw, eat, drink—I’m your meal.”

  “Who brought us here, Rene? Was this Chessa’s plan?”

  His upper lip lifted in a snarl. “Yeah, her and her people.”

  Chessa and “her people” meant for her to use Rene? He was all hers? For the moment, she didn’t care about the “why.” Her breasts tightened.

  Lord, how many times could she take him before her hunger was assuaged? She hid her excitement, pasting a concerned look on her face. “Are you uncomfortable?”

  He rolled his shoulders. “A little stiff.” His eyes narrowed as she pursed her lips to prevent a smile. “My shoulders are a little stiff. It’ll get worse the longer I’m layin’ here.”

  The smile she’d fought quirked up one side of her mouth. “A warm bath might ease your muscles. Would you like me to bathe you?”

  His glower grew impossibly darker. “Fuck no. Stay the hell away from me.”

  Disappointed, but beginning to enjoy the fact he was helpless, she walked around the room, aware his stare followed her. And if the sway of her hips was a little exaggerated…he deserved a little teasing. His surly rejection stung. “Why do you think they didn’t chain me, too?” She wrapped her arms around her middle, pretending a chill while plumping her breasts above her arms.

  Rene snorted, but his glance strayed downward. “Did they need to? You’re stalkin’ me, now!”

  She realized with a start she’d walked around the room in ever-tightening circles, drawing closer to the bed. “I’m sorry,” she said automatically, but not really meaning it. She was becoming such a liar.

  The muscles in his neck and jaw tensed as he lifted his head. “You keep sayin’ that.”

  She didn’t blame him for not believing her. The excitement humming through her body, lifting goose bumps on her skin, found its center in her woman’s core. “I really can’t seem to help myself.” The truth, this time.

  Anger drained from his face. His expression grew bleak. “I know.” He took a deep breath and relaxed against the mattress, his gaze lifting to the ceiling. “Natalie, I need you to think. You seem driven to fuck and feed. I get caught up in it, too.”

  She heard what he said, but had difficulty focusing to really absorb why he protested his fate so much. Her body’s needs ruled her. Didn’t he feel the same way? Didn’t he share the elation—the passion that even now unfurled inside her?

  That thought brought her up short. It can’t be happening this quickly again! The acknowledgement had a sobering affect. When he looked at her again, his steady gaze only underlined the fact she was reacting t
o something she had no control over.

  She had no real power here. She was ruled by her body and the moon—and submitting to her hungers.

  “You can’t have me,” Rene said, his face hardening. “I’m not here of my own free will…and I would never choose you.”

  Natalie swallowed the bile rising in the back of her throat. The hope she hadn’t even realized she harbored splintered like brittle glass.

  “He’s lying, you know,” Nicolas said, wicked delight in his tone.

  Chessa lifted her shoulder to shrug off Nicolas’s hand as he played with a strand of her hair. She stood in front of the table with the row of monitors—all trained on various views into the chamber Natalie would share with Rene over the coming days.

  The monitor she stared at gave a view of Rene chained to the bed that had ignited a slow burning fire deep inside her. His body, gloriously naked, was stretched, his sex the only part of him not horizontal.

  “His cock says he’s lying,” Nicolas said, his words gusting softly into her ear.

  She suppressed a frisson of awareness that raised the fine hairs on her neck. Rene was the man exciting her—never Nicolas! “Think I don’t know it?” Chessa couldn’t stop staring at Rene’s gorgeous cock. Still glistening from his cum and Natalie’s juices, his erection jutted above his belly.

  She’d always known Rene would be a well-hung stud, but her gut clenched at the thought she’d never feel its bite. Her stomach had churned while Natalie had lovingly licked him like a lollipop—her own mouth had watered at the sight.

  As though he read her mind, Nicolas pressed the long ridge of his cock against her hip. “I was going to tell you to wipe the drool from your lips—but I’d rather put it to better use.”

  “Cut it out,” she said grumpily and turned down the volume on the speakers. She’d heard enough. Seen enough.

  Her mission was fulfilled. She’d delivered the new vampire and her life mate to the coven. They could monitor Natalie’s progress—and make sure she didn’t kill Rene.

  “I was surprised to find you here,” Nicolas said, his silky tone her first warning he wasn’t giving up.