Apparently oblivious to the direction his thoughts had taken, Gia continued talking.
“I’ll make it worth your while. As long as I’m here under your protection, you can feed on my blood.”
A strangled sound escaped his throat as his fantasy took on an even more erotic tone. Now he pictured his body plunging in and out of hers as his fangs pierced her neck. He could feel the thick liquid of her passion laden blood sliding down his throat, flowing faster and faster as her orgasm pumped it into his mouth. Desperation gripped him as he tried to regain control of his faculties. His knees trembled, weakened by the strength of the fantasy.
“Are you all right?”
Her words barely registered. In the fantasy playing out in his head, he had already accepted her offer, already tasted the blood she bartered with so willingly. He could feel the ambrosia sliding down his throat, infusing his body with life.
He ran his tongue over his fangs, losing his battle with self-control. She would enjoy it. When his fangs slid into her flesh, she would gasp with pleasure, moan as his mouth worked the wound, giving bliss as he took sustenance.
His fingers closed around her biceps, feeling every stitch of her soft sweater and every pulse of blood under her skin. Anticipation made his mouth water. He jerked her body to him, and she inhaled sharply. Her lower body collided with his and the feel of her rubbing against his trapped erection nearly undid him. His head spun as he stared at her soft unpainted red lips and leaned forward.
“What the fuck?” Gia tore her arms out of his grasp, her eyes blazing with fury. Shocked out of his daze by her outburst, Sorin let her go. “Keep your hands to yourself unless you want to lose them,” she growled. “I’m offering blood, nothing more.”
Blood, a voice in his head hissed. Remember what happened last time you allowed yourself to feed. Remember why you’ve spent the last seven years wasting away in the prison of your study. A parade of macabre images paraded through his mind. Gia disappeared, replaced by the memory of another woman standing before him, screaming with tears carving paths through the drying blood on her face.
“You did this to me!” she screamed.
Sorin stared, horrified at the sight before his eyes.
“Cossette, let me help you,” he begged.
He reached for her, his hands aching to draw her closer to him, to envelope her in his embrace and make it all better. She recoiled with a snarl.
“Don’t touch me!”
“Do we have a deal?”
Gia’s voice ripped him out of the past and threw him into the frozen water of the present. His heart pounded in his chest, pushing adrenaline through his system to scald his muscles. A desperate need to rid himself of the bitter taste of the past filled him, blinding him to everything else. Hunger roared inside him as he focused on Gia, concentrated on the heavenly aroma wafting from her body. He was ready to leap at her, to claim her like a beast claiming its mate.
His brain balked at the images his urge conjured up. Tension corded the muscles in his neck and shoulders as he fought to remain still. A gentleman ceased his pursuit when the lady said “no.” Gia was clear, he had to stop. His body jerked as he tried to shake off the carnal desire.
His sudden movement must have startled her, because a soft gasp split the air. Before he could apologize, her arousal hammered into his senses like Excalibur biting into cold stone. He stared at her, helpless desperation burning in his soul. She wanted him. She’d ordered him back, threatened him with violence, but her body sang a different song. He could taste it in the air, the musky flavor of her wolfish desire. He stared into her eyes, searching for the truth. Something flickered within the golden orbs as she stared back at him. She blinked.
“Please, Sorin. This is what I want.”
Cossette’s voice threaded the air around him, taunting him with another plea. He’d told her “no” so many times, but eventually she’d worn him down. He’d given in—given her what she wanted . . .
The past leapt at him like an alligator exploding from the muddy waters of a swamp, opening its jaws to reveal jagged teeth ready to tear the flesh from his body. He jerked away from it, almost choking on fear. He had to send her away. He had to sink back into the apathetic fog that had been his straightjacket for nearly a decade.
“We do not,” he gasped. “There will be no deal!” He waved a hand at her, desperately trying to get her out of harm’s way. The monster of his past stared at him with slitted reptilian eyes, waiting for an opportunity to wreak havoc on his present. “Leave my home and do not return.”
Despite his resolve, his voice came out hoarse. Fear of the past colored the desire burning inside him, but it was a close battle. He turned before his expression could betray his conflict. Looking at her made the desire to bed her all the worse. If he didn’t leave now, he may not have the strength to deny her a second time.
He had just taken a step toward the stairs when the sharp copper scent of blood jerked his head up. His lustful thoughts screeched to a halt and a new hunger roared to take its place. His eyes widened and coherent thought vanished as his mind sharpened to a fine hungry point. Something inside him opened its jaws, anticipating a hot meal pulsing with life.
Footsteps pounded the stone floor and he turned just in time to see Gia leap toward him. He stared at the smear of blood on her lips, shock holding him temporarily suspended. Her hand threaded through his hair and she rose up on tiptoe to cover his mouth with hers.
Her blood splashed on his tongue like hot wine, fragrant and rich. He rolled it around his mouth, relishing the flavor before swallowing. As it swirled through his body, every nerve sprang to life. Adrenaline spiraled upwards to meet the rush of blood and he trembled with the first life he’d tasted in seven years.
Bloodlust rose like a ravenous beast inside him. His body cried out in starvation, demanding that he satisfy its monstrous appetite. He didn’t just want to drink from her—he wanted to feel his fangs shredding her flesh, to bathe in her life force as it gushed from her body in thick waves.
He snaked his arms around her back and jerked her body against him. A small sound of surprise fell from her lips as the hard planes of his body collided with her soft curves. The vulnerable sound fed his frenzy and he bit her lip, desperate to increase the flow of blood. He was rewarded with another cry of surprise. Gia’s hands pressed against his chest, gently at first. Determined not to give up his prize, he dug his fingers into her back, a not so subtle reminder of his strength. He could push his hands into her body and rip her in two like a ragdoll if he wanted.
The warning seemed to be enough and Gia stopped pushing against him. Her body relaxed and a wave of primal satisfaction washed over him. He was dominant. She would submit. He had the strange urge to throw back his head and howl his victory, but he couldn’t tear his mouth from the fountain of vitality coming from her ravaged lip. His flesh absorbed the life coming from her veins like a dry desert soaking in the rain. It ignited his blood, turning it to molten lava in his arteries. His manhood pulsed with its warmth and he inhaled sharply at the spike in desire.
The feel of his cock straining against his pants brought a flood of lust from his loins. It mixed with his hunger for blood, turning it into a heady cocktail that made his senses spin and his hands tighten. The two bestial hungers collided, fighting for control. Lost in the turmoil, he groaned into the kiss.
Gia splayed her fingers over his chest, dragging her nails over the soft material of his shirt. The gesture had the feel of arousal to it and he ate at her mouth with renewed fervor. Her lower body slid against his, creating a delicious friction. She was teasing him, alerting him to the other dark pleasure her body had to offer. He hissed as his cock twitched in the confines of his pants. This kiss was but a taste of the Heaven he knew was inside her—and he wanted it all. He released his grip on her back. Taken by the urge to possess her completely, he grabbed the waistband of her jeans, preparing to rip them open.
A sudden blow to his chest rip
ped him out of the erotic cloud forming around them. Too shocked to catch himself, he sprawled onto the floor. The hard wood bruised his arm as he caught himself and he winced at the jarring pain. The world spun as he struggled to think through the arousal that muddled his mind. He stared up at Gia.
Blood trickled in a thick line down her chin. Her golden eyes burned with defiance, her chin jutted out in an unspoken challenge. She stood with her feet shoulder width apart and her hands in fists at her sides. She looked like an ancient goddess of war, ready and willing to charge into battle.
Realization dawned on him, her earlier “submission” now clear for the ruse it had been. He had let himself grow too confident, the mighty vampire against the slight female werewolf come to beg for protection. She’d taken advantage of it, striking out just when he’d been so certain of his victory. Now her eyes flashed as she stared him down and he knew with a strange certainty that to leap for her again could cost him his afterlife.
He ran his tongue over his fangs, tasting the remnants of her blood. Power. He could taste it in her blood, feel the weight of it in his body. He remained still, watching her silently, determined not to rush into another mistake. The situation grew more puzzling with every moment. Why would a person with power such as this be coming to him to bargain for protection?
His eyes bored into hers and the scent of her arousal made a mind-numbing return, invading his senses and sweeping away all sense of logic. His fingers gripped the floor as he resisted the urge to fall on her like a wild dog, his rational train of thought completely derailed. It had been too long, he had forgotten how to control such . . . urges.
“Do we have a deal?”
Her voice came out breathy, but clear. The lingering tone of desire in her voice pulled at him, made his desperate to take her in his arms despite the risk. She wanted him, it was so obvious it pained him. And yet she fought him . . .
He regarded her for a few silent moments, the perplexity of the situation slowly bringing him back to his senses. This woman offered him what he’d denied himself for several long years. Dare he accept? Dare he step back into the world that had nearly killed him?
“Grigore,” he said finally.
“Master?”
He swallowed hard, his head still spinning. “Show Gia to a room. Make sure she is comfortable.” He nodded to her. “You have won your deal.”
Read more of APHRODITE’S HUNT
About the Author
Jennifer Blackstream is a psychology enthusiast with both a B.A. and M.A. in Psychology. Her fascination with the human mind is most appeased through the study of mythology and folklore as well as the novels of Terry Pratchett.
Jennifer enjoys listening to Alice Cooper, trying new recipes (to which she will add garlic whether it calls for it or not), watching television with her family, and playing with her woefully intelligent three year old son.
Jennifer spends most of her time drinking coffee from her X-Men mug and desperately trying to get all her ideas written down before her toddler can find that all magical button on her laptop to make all her work vanish.
To learn more about Jennifer Blackstream and her novels, visit her website at http://www.jenniferblackstream.com/. In addition to information about J.B. and her books, you will find the infamous Typo Challenge, book trailers, and a mysterious group called the “Sirens of the Black Stream.” Check it out.
Did you find a typo?
I hate typos. I do my best to rid my manuscripts of them before I send them to my editor, and then she does her best to find any stragglers that I missed. Still, sometimes the little buggers get by both of us and leap off the page to torment you, my loyal readers!
So here’s the deal. If you found any typos, go to http://www.jenniferblackstream.com/the-typo-challenge.php and use the contact form to report it (or “them” >gasp!<). Every month I will put the names of everyone who reported a typo into a hat and pick one out. That person will then be offered her (or his) choice of a Barnes & Noble or Amazon $25 gift certificate.
That’s right . . . you can win a gift certificate just for reporting a typo.
And thank you for helping me improve the reading experience for later readers.
- Jennifer Blackstream
Table of Contents
Blurb
Other Books by Jennifer Blackstream
Title Page
Copyright
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
About the Author
Did you find a typo?
Under His Skin Page 27
