“Stop that.” She went stick straight, fighting the compulsion with everything she had.
I frowned. I didn’t have to cater to this fragile human. She’d signed a contract, and the beast in me wasn’t going to let her walk out of this room without feeding.
But I wanted her willing. A victim’s blood was flavored by their emotions. I won’t lie: sometimes the beast in me relishes the flavor of fear. But with this woman, I wanted to taste her pleasure.
I eased off the compulsion and called on another ability instead, willing my body temperature to warm. Star’s soft body relaxed in slow increments.
“That’s better,” I said against her ear. “Relax. Allow yourself to enjoy. It’s not so bad.”
“Yeah? How many people have sunk their teeth into your neck?”
My lips quirked. “Only one.” And that so long ago I could barely recall how it felt. But I did remember how once I’d gotten over the fear, it had been darkly thrilling.
I switched gears. “I know you haven’t been with many men.”
“I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Non? But not many, I think—and whoever has had you before, none of them were me.”
I felt her smile at my arrogance. But she relaxed into my arms.
“No,” she agreed. “None of them were you.”
“Say my name.” I wanted to hear it in her American accent. “Remy.”
She hesitated, and then obediently repeated, “Remy.”
I shifted, so hard for her, my cock was trying to tear a hole in my pants. But first, there was something I needed to do.
Bringing my hand up, I sank my teeth into my finger until a few drops of blood welled up. I brought it to her mouth. “Here. Drink.”
She went rigid again and tried to turn her head. “No,” she said between tight lips.
My brow snapped down. I was used to people begging for even a single drop of my blood for its magical properties.
“A vampire’s blood heals, Star.” I stroked her hair. “It is for your own good. It will take away those bruises, heal your lip.”
“You’re not trying to turn me into a vamp?”
“No, of course not. You have to die first, and then you have to drink much blood. Now drink it.”
She shook her head against my shoulder. “I’m tough. I hardly feel it.”
“Star,” I said sternly.
“Okay, fine. If it will make you happy.” Her small pink tongue darted out, lapping up the drop like a cat.
Sensation punched down my spine. My balls tightened and the beast rose up, impatient to have her.
I gritted my teeth. Patience, I told both it and myself, and angled my head to look at Star’s face. The marks were already melting away, and the cut on her lip had closed.
Guilt assuaged, I slid a hand up her taut little torso. I unfastened the top button of her shirt, and then continued downward, one button at a time. With the third button, I could see her soft, full breasts in their plain white bra.
Earlier that evening, I had ordered a complete wardrobe to be delivered to the suite in a couple of days, and I couldn’t wait to see Star in the expensive underthings I’d bought, but there was something incredibly erotic about the white nylon against her warm-colored skin. I could just make out a dusky nipple pressing against the material.
I slid a finger beneath the bra to tease the tightly furled point and she sucked in a breath.
“You like that,” I murmured.
She nodded.
I pinched her nipple. Not hard. Just enough to make her gasp and arch her back.
The hell with patience. I’d been anticipating this for more than a week, ever since I’d first seen her on that stoop. My fangs literally ached to taste her sweet flesh. I touched the tender spot at the turn of her neck and she went rigid.
“A taste,” I murmured. “I need—”
“All right.” She held herself tensely in place.
I brought one hand to her face, angling her head to the side. The other hand was still on her breast, my fingers spread to enjoy the whole beautiful weight of her.
“Star,” I breathed, and then, the flavor of her was in my mouth.
Indescribable—and yet somehow familiar, as if I’d stumbled upon something I’d been searching for a long, long time.
CHAPTER SEVEN: Star
“Star.”
Just my name, spoken against my neck and nothing more…and yet it set tingles racing up and down my body.
I angled my head further to the side and he murmured, “Oui. That’s it, ma petite.”
I felt a slight prick. I sucked in a breath—and then relaxed. It didn’t hurt. In fact, it felt good. Really, really good.
I moaned and closed my eyes as Remy lapped at the small wound. He sucked harder. I gasped and gripped his thighs as pleasure seared through me.
He muttered something in French against my skin and slid a hand down to stroke my mound through the thin cotton skirt. At the same time he undid the front clasp of my bra so that he could play with my nipples.
My back arched. I dug my fingers into his thighs. This was nothing like I’d expected. My fear evaporated and all I wanted was more. Remy stroked his hands down my body, arousing me even further with slow, deliberate caresses.
He was hard against my lower back. I instinctively wriggled against him, but he placed a hand on my hip to stop me.
“Non.” A single clipped syllable that made me still.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“Fuck no.” That was English and very clear.
He spun me around to face him. His eyes glowed in the dim light, the black almost completely obliterated by that silver-blue. I gulped, very aware I was alone with a vampire.
“You read the contract, yes? It states clearly that I’m the one in charge.”
“I suppose so.” I didn’t want to admit that I’d barely read it. And besides, he’d made that clear enough in the alley—although hadn’t we agreed that part was negotiable?
“Just remember that, and we’ll be fine.”
I moved a shoulder, too aroused to debate the point. Remy’s gaze flicked to my bare breasts, reminding me that my shirt was wide open while he was still fully dressed.
I pulled the placket closed over my chest. “So what do you want me to do?”
“Why don’t we start by taking this off.” He tugged my hands from the shirt and pulled it off me, then tossed it on a nearby chair. “Now the rest,” he said. He crossed his arms and waited, expressionless.
Ah. I understood now. He wanted to keep this all business. To maintain his own cool even while he drove me wild with pleasure.
Okay, Monsieur-the-Count. Game on.
I kicked off my heels and pulled off my skirt, then undid my bra and dropped it on the floor.
Meanwhile, Remy shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over the back of a chair without taking his gaze from me.
My hands went to my boy-cut briefs—white with pink polka dots because they made me smile—and he stilled in the act of unbuttoning his shirt.
Ha. I perched on the edge of the mattress and set my hands behind me so that my breasts angled upward. I might be prey, but that didn’t mean I had to be a rabbit. This prey was going to use every weapon at her disposal.
Remy’s breath hissed in. I was average height, with nice curves—high, round breasts and hips to match. I didn’t work out, but I walked or biked everywhere, so my legs were toned. For whatever reason, men found me sexy. Hell, guys had been coming onto me since I was seventeen and finally escaped my father.
But this was different. Remy was freaking worshipping me with his eyes. His gaze lingered on my breasts and my nipples hardened into tight points.
I fought not to blush. Somehow, I had a feeling a vampire would enjoy that a little too much.
“Get into bed.” His voice was low, intense.
I pulled down the comforter and, still in those silly polka-dot briefs, sat cro
ss-legged on sheets that looked like cotton but were as soft as silk.
Remy stripped off his shirt. It was my turn to stare. This was no pale, bloodless vampire. The man had the body of a god—broad shoulders and a hard abdomen that tapered to a flat belly. Dark hair dusted his chest and arrowed down to disappear beneath his waistband right above the hard ridge tenting his pants.
He dragged off his shoes and pants, followed by boxer briefs. His cock jutted proudly at me from a nest of black hair.
My heart gave a hard thump.
This was really happening. I was a vampire’s blood courtesan.
For the next month, this man pretty much owned me.
I looked back up at Remy’s face. For an endless moment we stared at each other. Then he said, “Lie down.”
There may have been a light compulsion in his voice. I don’t know. All I knew was that I wanted this as much as he did—and that scared me as much as anything.
I eased myself back on the pillows. He moved so quick that I blinked and he was on the bed next to me, gazing down with eyes that shone like the moon in winter.
He crawled over me. One hand fisted in my hair, holding me still as he brought his mouth to my throat. With his other hand, he jerked my briefs down to my thighs. I lifted my hips and he dragged them the rest of the way off without lifting his head from my neck.
He inhaled deeply.
“This,” he gritted against my skin. “This is what I’ve wanted ever since I first scented you. I just can’t decide where to taste you first. Here?”—he touched my neck with his teeth—“or here?” His fingers slid between my thighs to where I was hot and wet for him.
I whimpered. It was too much, too fast. “Remy, I—”
“What, Star? What do you want? Tell me.”
I moved my head from side to side against the mattress. “I don’t know.”
His mouth went to my breast. He took my nipple between his teeth and nipped.
Sensation streaked down my spine. From somewhere far away, I heard myself moan. “Oh, God, oh God.”
Remy spoke over my broken muttering. “Beg me, Star.” He slid his fingers into me and nipped my other nipple.
I clenched my teeth. Beg? I didn’t think so. Contract or no, I wasn’t giving any man that kind of power.
He pulled his fingers out and stroked me, teasing my most sensitive tissue with a sure touch. My eyes shut so I could savor it.
It was amazing…and then it wasn’t enough.
I opened my eyes to find him looking down at me. “Beg me, Star.” He drew a slow circle around my clitoris. “Say please.”
“That’s not in the contract.” It was a shot in the dark, but he nodded.
“You’re right. It’s not. But there’s nothing about you getting pleasure, either.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You wouldn’t.”
He just smiled. The candlelight flickered over his face. He looked impossibly beautiful—a dark, sexy demon.
Okay. I definitely should’ve paid more attention to that damned contract.
“Beg me.” Hot, compelling words in the shadows.
“Angelique”—I gasped as he dragged his finger over a perfect spot—“said it tastes better if the woman is willing.”
“Ah, but you are willing, ma petite. Don’t you know I can scent your desire? It’s intoxicating. Women are like wine to us, and you are a very dark, very dry red.”
His teeth touched my neck again. This time, I thought I knew what was coming. I closed my eyes and waited, but he went deeper, harder.
Heat exploded through me, a fireball of pleasure that set every nerve in my body alight. I sucked in a breath—and broke.
“All right, damn you. Please. Please touch me. I’ll say anything you want, just—”
He chuckled darkly against my neck, but lower down, his fingers were working magic—sliding in and out of my needy passage, teasing my clit. I pushed my hips up and he murmured, “Slow down, chérie. No need to hurry. We have hours yet.”
“Mm.” I ignored him to rotate my hips against those talented fingers.
He halted and gazed down at me sternly. “What did we agree?”
I scowled. “You’re in charge, damn it.”
His lips twitched. I knew he was laughing at me, but I didn’t care. It had been a long time and if he was going to sink his teeth into me, the least he could do was make me come first.
He lifted his head and took my mouth with long, drugging kisses. His body settled between my thighs, and I could feel the hard length of him pressing against my damp sex. I twisted, trying to get closer to him, but he lifted off me.
I whimpered. “Please don’t tease me anymore.”
He brushed a kiss over my mouth. “Shh,” he said. “Trust me, ma petite. Can you do that?”
When I gave a jerky nod, he kissed me again and moved lower, kissing my belly, my damp curls. One long finger slid into me, stroking the delicate flesh while his tongue circled my clit. I speared my fingers in his hair and pulled him closer, forgetting he’d told me not to, but he allowed it, intent on what he was doing.
He flicked his tongue over my clit and I gasped. Tension coiled in me. I writhed restlessly on the sheets.
He nipped me gently and I jerked. My flesh was so hot, so swollen, that the tiny pain amped up the heat to an almost unbearable level.
He gave a last long lick and then lifted his head.
I groaned. “Please…”
“You want more?”
“Yes.” God yes.
He crawled up my body and nudged my thighs apart. Long, powerful hands cupped my face. I could smell the sex on his fingers, salty and arousing.
“Open to me, Star.” His fangs gleamed in the dim light. “Let me in.”
My heart raced. I felt a last twinge of fear even as I obediently placed my feet on the mattress and bent my knees.
He slid inside, slow and easy. And Lord, it felt good.
I sucked in a breath and clenched around him, and he muttered something approving in French.
Still deep inside me, he brought his mouth to my neck. One hand fisted in my hair, drawing my head gently but firmly back so that my throat was exposed.
I gripped his arms and squeezed my eyes shut. This was it. Somehow I knew it would make everything that had happened before pale in comparison. But I wasn’t afraid anymore. Wary, yes—but not afraid—and so aroused I was trembling with it.
“Remy,” I whispered. “Remy.”
“Easy.” He smoothed his hands down my quivering body. “Easy.” And then he sank his teeth into me—hard.
I gasped and arched my back as sensation shot through me.
He suckled strongly, sending another punch of pleasure arrowing to my thighs.
I made a sound somewhere between awe and amazement and wrapped my arms and legs around him.
He gave a grunt of satisfaction, withdrew partly from me and then thrust inside me. I was so sensitized that I came a little right then, but the man was just getting started. He began to move, slow and firm and perfect, angling himself to hit just the right spot.
And all the time, he was doing those magical things to my throat. With each suck, pleasure burst in me like mini-fireworks. I moaned and dug my fingers into the heavy muscles of his back.
His fingers tightened in my hair, holding me in place as he fed from me, the other hand clamping on my bottom as he thrust harder.
He took one last hard suck and then withdrew his teeth from my neck, even though he continued to lick and kiss me there. “That’s enough for now,” he muttered.
I realized he was taking care not to take too much blood, and something in me melted. Because he didn’t have to take care of me—I was at his mercy. That much I remembered from the contract: as long as I was alive at the end of the month, he’d have fulfilled his part of the bargain.
Remy brought a hand between our bodies to swirl his fingers over my clit. “Come for me,” he said against my throat.
“Yes, yes,” I mu
rmured. Then I squeezed tight around him and screamed out his name as the fireworks went up in a raw, wild display.
Remy thrust a few more times, hard and fast and rough. Then he threw back his head, and with a groan, pushed so deep I could feel him to the base of my spine. He stilled, pulsing inside me.
“La sainte mère.” A quiet murmur against my face. His weight pressed me into the mattress, heavy and warm. Then the pressure eased as he levered himself off me and turned onto his back. “Thank you, my dear.”
I dragged in a breath, one arm over my head and legs still splayed open, and sent him an incredulous look. The man had given me the best climax of my life, and he was thanking me.
But I simply murmured, “No problem,” because it was to my benefit to have Remy de la Lune grateful to me.
At least that’s what I told myself. And that’s the reason I gave myself for rolling onto my side and stroking a hand down his taut abdomen.
He shifted and slid his arm under my shoulders. I rested my head in the warm hollow of his shoulder and petted his chest, his stomach, enjoying how the muscles tensed beneath my fingers.
“I thought you’d be ice cold,” I murmured.
“I can control my body temperature.”
“I like it.” I snuggled closer. Something primitive in me took comfort from his heat. It had been a long time since anyone had held me. My hand crept lower, exploring.
“That’s it,” he said against my hair. “Touch me.”
He was still half erect. I encircled his cock with my hand. He was hot and sticky from sex. I played my fingers up and down, watching as he started to lengthen.
He remained silent, but I glanced up to find him watching me through glittering eyes, the blue less now, but still startling.
“How long does it take a vamp to recover?”
“Not long.”
I squeezed.
“Suck me, Star.” A quiet order.
I smiled to myself and brought my thumb to the flushed cap. “Is that in the contract?” I asked as I smoothed my thumb over it.
He growled. “The hell with the contract.”
“So it’s not.”
“Non. Not those words. You are mine for this month. You can’t refuse me sex, or the right to drink from you, but you can refuse any acts you find unpleasant.”
Ensnared: A Vampire Blood Courtesans Romance Page 4
