Born Of Sin (Book 1)

by Deanna Richmond

  The place finally calmed when the melody was underway. With graceful movements, they easily swayed to the music. Octavia was apprehensive, but as time continued, she gave into the dance, allowing herself to be swept away in his arms. The dance didn’t normally cause eyes to stay bonded to one another for so long, but their version was reinvented.

  They were in sync; dancing closely until lack of touch was necessitated by a particular step. Their arms were folded around each other as their feet did all of the work. When it was time for Octavia to walk around him, Victor stood still and she could not help but drag her hand around his muscular waist, arms or back. That was not a part of the dance. There was not supposed to be touching in that instance, but she could not help it. She had to touch.

  When it was time to embrace again, he grabbed her a little closer than what was required. If you didn’t know the dance, then you would not know any of these slight alterations.

  He saw her eyelids waver as she was moved by the passion in their dance. Their closeness stirred a hunger in her. She fell under his spell. Her chest rose and fell deeply. Her heart raced madly. He was infatuated with her. Her scent once again enraptured him. That familiar scent. His eyes made love to her as her body motivated his movements. His need for her rose wildly inside of him. He wanted her so profoundly, it was a wonder he didn’t sweep her away like a ferocious animal.

  Reason, by no means, was his friend on this night.

  After the song had ended, he abruptly let go of her, fully enthralled by her. He bowed to her curtsey while the crowd clapped.

  “Thank you for this dance, my lady,” he said, holding on to what little resolve he had left by not ravishing her there.

  “My pleasure,” she breathed, her voice slightly quivering. Her aroma was getting stronger, testing that part of him that he had suppressed so very long ago—selfish greed.

  There they lingered, watching each other as the room filled with envious onlookers. Silence fell as neither spoke. Only their heavy breathing escaped their lips.

  When his wits had returned, and with no further word, he took his leave. He didn't look back, but felt her attention on him. Her heart raced vigorously after him as if she begged for him to taste her.

  Compliments were given on his way towards the door, the exit which seemed to get further away instead of closer with each step. His kind gave him inquisitive looks, inspecting his oddity. He needed to get the hell out of there and feed in order to calm himself. She may not have been a vampire, but she taxed his tenacity and drained his mental strength.

  Who in your God's name are you, Octavia Vail?

  Chapter 7: Octavia

  Octavia stood in the middle of the dance floor, watching him walk off. Her body was on fire. His touch had melted every part of her, sending bolts of electricity to places that had never lived before. She wanted more of him, more of his searing touch.

  As she received compliments, her mind stayed fixed on no one but him. Her coworkers congratulated her on the art of the dance. She was too far gone, too focused on the man who'd walked out like a thief in the night. She had no idea how or when it had happened, but he had stolen her heart. She gave polite nods to those talking, but only saw their lips moving; no words reached her. She did not hear anything, with the exception of the beautiful melody still playing in her ears and the feel of the sea in her stomach, whipping around like a squally night.

  When Victor was no longer in view, she came back down to reality. For the rest of the night, she attempted to give the patients her full attention, but her mind kept traveling back to him. Eventually, Octavia did manage to stow him away for a time, but every time she thought of his touch, her breath caught in her throat and her stomach flipped.

  At one point, she swore a woman she had never seen before gave her an intimidating look of sheer hatred. It rattled her for a second, but she had seen that look many times before from people who didn’t care for her.

  “Ignore her. That’s Stacey, the hospital witch. She doesn’t like any female, especially those who get too close to ‘you know who,’” Jared said, turning his nose up at the woman. Octavia barely heard him. Nothing could bring her down tonight. “So, that was hot,” Jared teased.

  “Don’t even start.” She pointed a finger at him, poking him in the gut.

  “Alright. Alright.” He threw up his hands, relinquishing.

  Octavia allowed herself to partake in the party once again. Before long, it was time for the older patients to take their leave, while the younger crowd stayed later to really party. After Octavia had helped some of the patients back to their quarters, she decided to head toward the business center instead of back to the function.

  She was curious as to where he’d disappeared. Why had he rushed off so quickly? Truthfully, she wanted to see him, talk to him, or possibly more. The latter scared her, but she kept walking. She followed the long corridor which she assumed he’d had to travel in order to cross to the business center. To her delight, there was an even better view of the castle. The sight of it seemed to calm a bit of her brazenness which had been ruled by pure adrenaline.

  Stopping at the end of the hallway, Octavia looked around a wide corridor. Across from where she’d paused was a lit corner office. She stopped dead.

  What are you doing? Why are you here? she asked herself, but much like Victor, reason abandoned her some time ago; only curiosity of the unknown remained.

  She watched the room for a moment, trying to decide if she should enter. For one, she didn’t know if it was his office, and two, she didn't know if he wanted to be left alone.

  Her decision was made when he walked into view to replace a book on the shelf and grab another. He then walked over and shut the door, leaving her in the dimly lit hallway. She felt embarrassed, ashamed of herself for acting desperately, but relieved she had not been seen.

  She had turned to leave, when the light reappeared. She pressed her body against the wall as he stood at the open doorway. He stepped back, leaving the door ajar, this time wider than before, as if summoning her. The deafening sound of stillness pierced her ears, but her heartbeat plowed through. With tightly closed eyelids, her forehead rested against the wall as she desperately tried to control her panicky breaths. She angled her body sideways to peer at the open door once again, contemplating her next move.

  As he disappeared into the office, she collected her nerves and walked towards the light. She hoped it was meant for her. She steadied herself, trying to control the shaky movements as flashes of heat washed over her.

  Too fretful to even speak, she walked into his office, and stood watching him read as he sat at his desk. Even from a distance, she could sense his magnetism.

  Why does this feel like my first schoolgirl crush, one where it’s the teacher instead of the boy my own age?

  After an instant, his head rose to find her standing there. He leaned back in his seat, as if to ponder his next move.

  Octavia was too afraid to move, much less speak.

  He stood up, strolled past her and shut the door, all the while studying her behavior. His expression was impassive.

  Walking up to her, he reached for her face, but she inadvertently backed up.

  He retracted his hand.

  Octavia didn’t know why she’d reacted that way. Maybe it was the realization that this was real.

  Victor moved towards her again. This time, she did not resist.

  When his hand finally reached her face, she held up her hands and turned her head slightly. He stopped again.

  She craved him so immeasurably, it was startling even to her. She needed a minute to catch her breath. His scent was intoxicating. She’d never felt anything like this before. It was intimidating. He was intimidating.

  When she faced him again, he put both of his hands on her waist and tenderly pulled her toward him. He quickly lifted her onto the side table, forcing a soft noise of surprise to escape her lips. He did not push pack the hair that draped across her face, instead gaze
d into her eyes, as they were now eye level. Her mouth stayed opened slightly, while she yearned for the man in front of her. She could barely think.

  Octavia didn’t care about the consequences or who this man might be; she didn’t even care about tomorrow. There was no thought of remorse. There was no hurt, no pain, not even a tainted past. Right or wrong didn’t even exist. Only him. This insatiable hunger needed to be fed.

  He slowly gathered her long skirt as his hands traveled up her soft, bare thighs. He gently parted her legs to stand in between them. With a tender touch, he slid back the hair covering her right eye as he caressed her face, closed lids, and lips. He purposely smeared her lipstick. He wanted to taste her, all of her, but only her.

  Octavia was hypnotized by him as his hands read her face as if she were braille, learning her, reading her.

  Opening her eyes, she noted his flawless features. Reaching up, she felt his molded jaw that was made to devour her, his lips which were made to taste hers, and his hands made to touch her.

  She didn’t know why or care about his thoughts. All she knew was that if he didn’t kiss her soon, she would never breathe again. And as if he read her mind, he did just that. A tear rolled down her cheek; the mere taste of his lips beguiled her.

  Lightning struck every sense within, especially below her waist. She grabbed his hair and pulled him closer to her, trying to find life’s meaning. She tried to find her truth within his kiss.

  Even though their kisses were long, purposeful and determined, they were not profound enough for either. Their hands could not travel far enough, for their clothes restricted their intended exploration.

  Victor pulled back, breathlessly. “Do you want to stop?” he asked while kissing her neck, sending shudders to her nether regions.

  “No… no never,” she responded on an exhale.

  He placed her legs around his waist and lifted her, never pausing to stop kissing her skin. She was barely aware of their escape to another room. She was too lost in him. She felt a slight rumble, then darkness descended. Wherever he’d taken her, she did not question; she was content as long as no other being could find them. At this moment, she would deny him nothing.

  He placed her down on the floor and stepped away. All was dark, until a candle wick lit. When he came back, he held two candles and placed them on a nearby table. There was no resistance within Octavia, as she watched him with longing in her heart. She held onto the cool wall behind her to steady her intoxicated mood.

  Octavia was shocked when he reached under her skirt and ripped off her thong. He lifted her straight up in the air, placing her back against the cool stone. Her thighs rested on his shoulders while he discovered her most divine area.

  After a few seconds of astonishment, she relaxed her mind and body, leaning back, giving in. She opened her legs wider and pushed his head closer. She gave into this lovely creature whose resolute grip told her there was no escape. She clawed at the stone, while his mouth explored her. He licked every inch of her, back and forth and side to side as he cupped her backside, never wavering in his stance. She screamed out, arching her back even further and allowing him into her. When she came, her body jerked as she tilted her pelvis, releasing what he sought. He lowered her down with ease, only to place her on a bed.

  Standing over, he grabbed her shirt and with one swift motion ripped her buttons. He took her shirt to his face, inhaled her scent and trailed it across his glossed lips. He then tossed it off to the side. Next, he tore her bra from the front, exposing her breasts. Octavia was in awe over his savage behavior. There was only one article of clothing for him to ruin—her skirt. And so he did, slowly splitting it down the middle.

  “You don’t need any clothes,” Victor said as he removed his shirt, exposing an eight pack of steel. He removed his clothing, piece by piece. Octavia took in the whole glorious package, one touched by the heavens. When his last piece of clothing had been removed, she was taken aback by the magnificence of the figure in front of her, who was supposedly just a man. In truth, she didn’t know if he was the devil or a god, but lucidity did not befriend her thinking. He was hers right now and right now, she would have him.

  He lay on top of her. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle,” he whispered in her ear, kissing her softly, “at first.”

  He raised her arms above her head. She kept them there. He kissed her from her neck, to her breasts, then clit again. There was no part of her that was undiscovered. Octavia felt like the new world, and he was the explorer conquering it. Chills and heat wafted over her, her body’s temperature contradicting itself, driving her crazy with excitement.

  He slid two fingers inside of her, making her back arch. Her head pressed against the mattress. She released a groan. He could not help the crooked smile her cries elicited from him; he felt like he’d waited a lifetime to hear that sound.

  But it had been only a little while ago that they'd first set eyes on each other. From that very first encounter, Victor had longed to be inside her.

  Bracing her head with his hand, he watched her orgasm. She was so wet; she was ready. If he did not take her soon, she would scream out from the anticipation. She wanted to feel him inside of her, but everything he did to her paralyzed the words so that only sounds escaped.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, opening her eyes to see his pink, tinged fingers covered with her release. Never before had a man touched her so intimately. “Oh, God…” But the strangest thing occurred. He sucked his fingers while staring at her. The blood didn’t faze him. As strange as it was, that turned Octavia on even more. The same was true when she had licked his bloody lip. She observed the enjoyment on his face after tasting her. It was an odd behavior, both of theirs, but she savored it.

  “I knew your scent, and now I know your taste as well,” he said, right before entering her. As if an ocean had erupted, her moistness surrounded him. Her body thanked him by instantly exploding. He held her close, watching her face contort in a soundless scream. She pulled at her hair. Her muscles locked up from the euphoria of his pleasing movements. She sucked the fingers Victor placed in her mouth, gripping her fingers within his coal colored locks, moaning for more.

  Almost immediately, their rhythms matched. Needing to admire his gorgeous face, Octavia stayed fixed on him while they moved together. Their eyes were locked. She moaned out as he gave her what she hadn’t known she desired. She cried out, “Victor,” as if begging him to understand her pleas to never stop. Octavia felt connected to this man. It was as if the world no longer existed and everything around them ceased to be.

  He lifted her up and sat on the edge of the bed as she sat on top of him. She now could take control and enjoy him at her own tempo. He could not help but want to please her as he grabbed her waist, pushing further into her. She leaned back to give him control. Tears of pleasure rolled down her face as her body completely succumbed. Her heart went from racing wildly, increasing to the point where she thought it might explode, to slowing to a tempered beat.

  He now did all the work as he held onto her waist, placing her down on the bed. He slowly, methodically, moved in and out of her as he lifted her butt off the bed. He only needed one hand to hold her, while the other held her neck. She was his for the taking. She would grant him anything, say yes to anything. Staring into his eyes that seemed so familiar, she somehow knew he knew it.

  He flipped her over to take her from behind. He worked her body from every angle and Octavia reciprocated with continuous explosive apogees.

  When he flipped her back over, she wrapped her legs around him as he drove into her fiercely, taking her body into his arms and giving himself unto her. His body shook from the burst of excitement, from the long-awaited feeling he had so desired from the day their paths had first crossed.

  From euphoric passion, they fell into each other’s arms, panting after surrendering to their thirst for one another. Their lovemaking had been both sensuous and feral. They lay togethe
r watching one another. What was there to say? Neither knew the other, really. The fact that two strangers were able to connect in such a way was almost terrifying, but Octavia found comfort in their escape.

  Chapter 8: Victor

  Wearing only lounge pants Victor sat at his desk across the room, watching Octavia deep in slumber. He removed the sheet that had been covering her, exposing her nakedness.

  This room was his private lair— a place to get away and work by candlelight. At times, electric lights were too bright, and he needed to focus better. This room had the look of ancient times, which he cherished. There was no electricity. The dark always soothed him. Perhaps it was a reflection of his soul.

  Within these tan stone walls were a work area, a lavatory, and a fireplace, opposite the bookcase in his office, which was an entry point to his secret spot. Nothing else was needed, unless he tired. When he did, there was a bed, the very bed on which Octavia lay.

  Never before had he known a sensation like this. It was more than he could have fathomed. She gave him control and it was intoxicating. Usually, two vampires fought, each vying to be the dominant partner in the art of lovemaking. Not so with her. She relinquished power, allowing her spirit to surrender to their passions.

  Her skin was warm, so inviting. Although his body temperature was colder than hers, he was not ice cold. But her skin, lips, and thighs sent chills down his spine to his groin. He wanted to spread her legs and ravish her again. He wanted her to awaken with him plunging inside of her, to hear that gasped cry of ecstasy that he provoked. He yearned to hear her call his name again. Everything about her called to him.