Girls Who Bite

by Delilah Devlin

  Sekhmet opened to the insistent tongue—the wet heat, the soft hands… Need coursed through her flesh, scattering goose bumps across her skin. A half moan escaped. Then another. Her body betrayed her. Her need outweighed her fears. Her hands left the safe haven against the door. Arms wrapped around Hathor.

  Hathor’s hands moved away from Sekhmet’s breasts. Her arms mirrored Sekhmet’s. Desperation and desire enveloped Sekhmet in a tight embrace. Lips met hard, with teeth clashing before the kiss settled into soul wrenching sweetness.

  “Please…” Sekhmet couldn’t stop the desire. She’d take what Hathor’s embrace offered but not the other. She’d slake that thirst elsewhere. After…

  A soft sigh of relief followed. Sekhmet wasn’t sure if it was hers or Hathor’s. Maybe it was both.

  Hathor pulled away from the tight hug.

  Before Sekhmet could protest, her lover pulled Sekhmet’s shirt up and her bra down. Warm, wet sucking pulled one nipple. Finger and thumb worked the other. Once again, Sekhmet’s hands found refuge on the cool wood of the door.

  Her body flamed with the heat of a thousand desert suns. She wondered how she didn’t burst into flames. Desire slicked her pussy and dampened her panties. Trembling weakened her knees. The door at her back helped support her as her legs betrayed her.

  “No!” The hot mouth disappeared, leaving her wet nipple chilling in the cool air.

  Hathor slid down Sekhmet’s body, fluttering kisses down her stomach, until she knelt before her. Pressing her face against Sekhmet’s mons, she inhaled a long breath through the lightweight cotton skirt. “I’ve missed your scent.” Her hands cupped Sekhmet’s ass. “And your taste.” The pressure of her teeth raked across Sekhmet’s sensitive flesh through the thin material.

  “Oh, yes…” Sekhmet banged the back of her head against the door several times as a futile attempt to distract herself. To keep from saying more, from begging for more.

  Hathor’s fingers curled into the skirt’s elastic waist. Urgent tugging pulled the material down Sekhmet’s legs into a puddle of cloth at her feet.

  Hathor nuzzled the silk of Sekhmet’s boycut panties. An openmouthed kiss teased Sekhmet’s clit with hot breath.

  Please… It wasn’t begging if it wasn’t aloud, right? She couldn’t stop her feet from sliding apart, opening her thighs for better access.

  One finger teased under the leg of her panties, dipping into the crease where thigh meets groin. A second joined the first then both slid closer to Sekhmet’s aching nub.

  Please. Sekhmet pushed her hips forward just slightly, barely a hint of motion. Need overrode her desire to maintain her aloofness. “Please!”

  The single word seemed to release Hathor’s restraint. Her mouth pressed hard through Sekhmet’s panties putting pressure on her needy flesh.

  Sekhmet’s palms left the safety of the door. Her fingers twined through the henna-streaked strands of hair. She tugged Hathor’s face tighter against her mound.

  Her pleas were answered when Hathor pulled away, then yanked Sekhmet’s underwear down her legs. Hathor’s fingers dug into Sekhmet’s thighs as she pried her legs apart.

  Soft tongue parted Sekhmet’s pussy lips. Fingers slid into her channel. Gentle sucking on her clit sent fire through Sekhmet’s groin.

  “Oh…” The word deteriorated into a howling moan. Her orgasm roared to life. Ecstasy renewed her soul and her hunger. Her body writhed, hips bucking. Too much…too quick…too sensitive…

  Hathor persisted. Her mouth held on, sucking Sekhmet’s sensitive flesh. Her fingers plunged in and out of Sekhmet’s channel.

  Sekhmet came again, harder. “Too much!” She pushed Hathor away in a shove more violent than she intended.

  A surprised Hathor glanced up from her ignominious sprawl on the floor. She raised her fingers—still slick with Sekhmet’s cream—to her mouth. Her tongue ran their length. “Still as tasty as ever.”

  Sekhmet’s legs nearly gave out. Her breath came in short bursts. Her heart beat in rapid, irregular beats. The ancient thirst overrode the aftermath of ecstasy.

  Hathor rose slowly from the floor. “But you aren’t interested in the taste of come.” She stepped toward Sekhmet.

  “No.” In spite of the burning hunger, Sekhmet wouldn’t risk Hathor. Not again…

  Another step forward. “But it’s what you need…” Hathor slid a small object from a pocket hidden in the folds of her dress. The flash of a sharp edge popped from the switchblade.

  Before Sekhmet could stop her, Hathor sliced across her palm. Blood pooled in her hand as she held it up as an irresistible offering to Sekhmet. “I can quench all your thirsts, all your hungers. All your desires. Why do you insist on stalking prey?”

  “Because they don’t—” Sekhmet stopped before she revealed her deepest secret. Because they don’t strip me bare, leave me vulnerable then threaten to desert me for all of eternity…

  The scent of blood, of Hathor’s blood, sent a tremor of need shivering down Sekhmet’s spine. Her willpower weakened and desire flamed as hot as the desert sun.

  The side of Hathor’s hand pressed against Sekhmet’s lower lip. “Drink, beloved. Drink and be renewed.” Her other hand cupped Sekhmet’s sensitive breast. Fingers tweaked her plumped nipple.

  Too much… With a long groan, Sekhmet did as she was told. She didn’t pause to savor the rich warm liquid. A simple taste added to the bloodlust instead of curing it. The sudden strength of her addiction overwhelmed her.

  Hathor took a deep breath as Sekhmet obeyed her whispered plea. If only she’d stay…

  The warm tongue lapped at Hathor’s bloody palm like a cat’s at cream. The tension radiating through Sekhmet’s scent lessened but the lingering musk of her sexual release teased Hathor’s nose.

  She wanted so much more that Sekhmet wouldn’t give.

  Full lips closed over Hathor’s rapidly closing wound. Her nature made healing quick and painless, most of the time.

  Sekhmet’s frantic sucking softened to gentle kisses, creating an ache in Hathor’s loins that only her wayward lover could cure. Many had tried. As the goddess of love, Hathor had been more than free with her charms. It was in her nature, especially when her chosen lover refused to stay by her side.

  A soft growl dropped lower to almost a purr. The bushy mass of braids reminded Hathor of Sekhmet’s alter ego, the lioness. Sekhmet lifted her gaze to meet Hathor’s. Her golden eyes glowed with desire and need.

  Hathor had only seconds to prepare as Sekhmet’s pent-up yearning pushed her forward.

  A fast pounce, and Hathor was on her back on the strategically placed couch. As she hit the hard cushions, she was grateful for having had the forethought to rearrange the room before she lured Sekhmet into her lair.

  A hard jerk, and Hathor’s linen shift ripped from neck to groin. Buttons popped and rolled around the small room.

  Kisses fell across her face, fast pecks of passion until Sekhmet’s lips met hers. Deep, hard, Sekhmet’s tongue explored Hathor’s mouth, probing like a man’s cock in a pussy.

  Pleasure exploded through Hathor’s synapses. Her nipples tightened under Sekhmet’s rough hands. Fingers tugged and pulled. Bodies rubbed together. A hard thigh pressed against her groin, friction and pressure bringing her a little closer to what she needed.

  Cream of arousal pulsed through Hathor’s channel. “Yes. Take what you need.” Her hands caressed Sekhmet’s back. “Take me.”

  Frantic kisses left Hathor’s mouth, trailing lower until a nipple was caught in a hard suck.

  Hathor arched into the hard pressure. “Yes.” Her fingers twisted through Sekhmet’s mane, tugging her closer. “Do it.”

  With a half cry, half growl, Sekhmet did as commanded. As Hathor knew she would. Sekhmet had no choice. Neither did Hathor…

  Sharp teeth penetrated the swell of Hathor’s breast, just above the nipple. Her heart beat faster, racing to keep up with the loss of blood. Her body tingled with the lack of oxygen as she held
her breath.

  Deeper her lover drank, pulling the liquid of life from Hathor’s body. Sekhmet’s hand slid lower, moving past the ripped material, dipping into the barely there underwear. A quick flicker of a touch set Hathor’s clit quivering.

  “Yes. Oh, yes!” Hathor’s hands tightened on Sekhmet’s head. “Make me come…” Lightheadedness from blood loss forced Hathor’s eyes closed. Weakness made her breathing shallow. The lack of oxygen helped push her body toward satisfaction. “Make. Me…”

  Fingers plunged into her wet channel. The palm of Sekhmet’s hand pressed hard against Hathor’s clit.

  Orgasm spiraled out from Hathor’s sex, each wave harder than the last. The lights dimmed as Hathor struggled for breath. With no life left to express her victory, Hathor let her laughter echo in her mind as she faded into the darkness. I win again…

  “Damn you.” Sekhmet’s lust faded into oblivion, for now. She slid to the floor next to the couch. The thirst that had brought her here was once more a memory. And her lover, her beloved, habibty…

  Hathor’s body sprawled across the small couch, arms akimbo, legs spread wide. An obscene smile graced her parted lips. Her dark eyes had faded to a light brown. Her golden skin had paled in death. The rosy color of her lips was blue. Even her full perfect breasts taunted Sekhmet, the destroyer now having destroyed the goddess of love and music, of motherhood and joy…

  Again.

  The life energy of her lover flooded Sekhmet’s veins. Need had pushed her too far.

  But it was all Hathor’s fault. It was always Hathor’s fault.

  “Bitch.” Rising on her knees, Sekhmet leaned over the still form. “Why do you do this?”

  A soft kiss only proved Hathor’s lips were cold and unresponsive.

  “Ya Umri?” My life… The endearment fell on deaf ears. Panic welled up, clogging Sekhmet’s throat.

  Another kiss, a little longer, a little harder. Did her chest rise? Sekhmet pressed her hand to the almost-closed wounds next to the faintest of scars. Memories of all the times before.

  She pushed a little harder. Not even a drop of blood escaped the tiny puncture marks.

  But was that a gasp? However tiny? The faint thump of a heartbeat? She pressed her ear to Hathor’s breast.

  No, nothing. Not even the slightest sign of life.

  “Damn you!” Sekhmet scurried across the room on her hands and knees. “I knew one day…” She slammed her back against the wall, facing her victim.

  Tears stung her eyes, but she forced them into submission with only her will and a tightly clenched jaw. “You had to push me again.” Her throat tightened to the point of choking. Sobs forced her airway open.

  The dam burst. Tears spilled past her carefully constructed barriers. Grinding the heels of her palms against her eyes did nothing to stop the flood. Gasping sobs ripped through her chest, choking her throat raw. An eternity of fears culminated in an ache so vast Sekhmet didn’t think she’d survive.

  She’d known from their first encounter, the first time Hathor offered her blood, her body, in salvation of mortals, that someday the task would prove too much even for the goddess of love.

  And when it happened, Sekhmet would have no reason left to live.

  Unfortunately, she had no idea how to die. The ones who went before didn’t leave instructions. “Selfish pigs…” Another sob wracked her body. The room seemed colder without Hathor breathing life into it.

  The murmur and shuffle of the museum patrons faded as time marched on. And Sekhmet sat waiting to see if this was the last time her lover would rescue mankind.

  An eternity later, a loud gasp penetrated her grief. She jerked her hands away from her face.

  Hathor’s mouth opened wide as her fingers curled. Her chest rose with a long, moaning breath. She exhaled a low groan.

  “You fucking bitch!” Sekhmet scrambled across the hard stone floor and back to Hathor’s side in time to catch her before her shaking body slid off the couch. She cradled her lover with a tenderness her tone didn’t share. “You stupid fucking cow. How could you do that to me again?” She buried her face in Hathor’s neck. “Don’t. Ever. Do that. Again.”

  Hathor mumbled an incoherent word before a coughing fit interrupted.

  “I thought you were gone this time. For good.”

  “If you’d—” Hathor gasped for air. “Do as I ask—” Another ragged breath. “This wouldn’t happen.”

  “How do you know?” Sekhmet couldn’t stay with her for eternity. Close contact would only make it worse if something happened. When something happened…

  “I’ve told you…” A short series of coughs interrupted her words. “If you drink before the bloodlust consumes you, controlling your appetite will be easier.”

  Sekhmet kissed the arch of Hathor’s eyebrow, then the bridge of her nose. “You say that, but if I lost you… Better we stay apart.” The idea of eternity without Hathor somewhere in the world… A shudder played down her spine. Despair barred her from more words. Instead, she found Hathor’s lips.

  With soft, sweet kisses Sekhmet drank in Hathor’s breath, reveling in the feel of life. Sekhmet’s hand rubbed a slow path to the swell of Hathor’s breast, to the rapidly fading bite. The faint remnants of blood smeared the golden skin.

  “I love you.” Sekhmet slid down until she rested her ear against the now-closed wound and the faintest scars of so many before. The reassuring thump-thump of Hathor’s heart was the most joyous sound in all of eternity.

  “If you truly loved me, you’d trust me and do as I ask.” Hathor’s hand shook as she caressed Sekhmet’s face.

  Kissing the still-cold fingers, Sekhmet shook her head but with less conviction. “It’d be too dangerous.” Dangerous to her sanity.

  Hathor rubbed her hand up and down Sekhmet’s back. “Stay with me until the next stirring of the bloodlust begins. If you think it is too dangerous after that, then I won’t ask again.”

  “And you’ll stay away? Forever? No matter what happens?” As much as Sekhmet said she wanted nothing to do with Hathor, the idea of never seeing her again stung her eyes with more tears.

  Then again, the next time the fever took Sekhmet might be years away. She’d never found a pattern, even after all this time. Could she spend so much time with Hathor only to leave in the end?

  “Please. Forever isn’t all it’s cracked up to be…”

  Sekhmet raised her head to look at her lover. The soft, plaintive tone wasn’t like the self-assured Hathor, but her expression held no guile or subterfuge. “Are you lonely?” Sometimes Sekhmet didn’t think she could face another day alone.

  “Yes. Aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” Why deny it? Sekhmet lowered her face back to Hathor’s chest and the reassuring beat of her heart. “I’d be lonely in a crowd without you.” The words sprang free of their own accord. Her fear of losing Hathor weighed heavily against her heart. “I’ve thought about dying but I don’t know how… And if I lost you, I couldn’t stand to live.”

  A soft laugh bubbled through Hathor. “But you wouldn’t live. Don’t you know we keep each other alive?”

  “What?” Sekhmet lifted her head then met Hathor’s gaze.

  Little crinkles of amusement teased the sides of Hathor’s eyes. “We keep each other alive. It’s part of Ra’s design. We are truly part of each other, although not as the old legends proclaim. From the first fateful bite, the taste of my blood changed you—us.” Her fingers traced a line from Sekhmet’s temple over her cheekbone then down to her chin. “It’s how I always find you. Your lust draws me to you.”

  Sekhmet’s heart raced as the years of wondering seemed at an end. The words rang with a hidden truth. And if what she said was true… “Then if you died, so would I?”

  “Yes. If either of us lost the other we’d eventually fade on the wind, like the others.”

  “That’s the secret to their deaths?” How could she be sure Hathor spoke true?

  “Yes, love.” Hathor’s fing
ers curled through Sekhmet’s braids. “The others lost the will to live not because of an individual but because their followers ceased to believe.”

  “But we’re different?”

  “Yes, we live on in each other. And always will. If we had depended on our followers, we’d have gone a long time ago.” Hathor’s full lips teased Sekhmet’s brow. “If you do as I ask and remain at my side, you’ll see the truth.”

  Eternity in Hathor’s perfumed arms without fear of loss? “I will.” The hunger of a thousand lifetimes engulfed Sekhmet. Need welled up with the ferocity of a rampaging lioness, but fear forced her to gentleness and restraint.

  Hathor might have survived, but weakness invariably followed a full blooding.

  Planting kisses along the rise of Hathor’s breast, Sekhmet made her way up to the long neck, over the chin until their lips met. “Why haven’t you explained this before?” she muttered between soft kisses.

  “Because I didn’t think it needed explanation. I thought you were being your usual stubborn self.” Hathor’s hand gripped the back of Sekhmet’s neck. Warmth had begun to return to her fingers.

  “But you are certain I won’t live if you die?” Hope wanted to believe, but fear and doubt had always ruled Sekhmet where Hathor was concerned.

  “Positive.” She pulled Sekhmet closer with surprising strength. “Now make love to me like when we were young and unafraid.”

  Sekhmet lowered her mouth to Hathor’s, drinking in love instead of blood. Savoring the warmth of living breath instead of the stillness of death. “Habibty…”

  Eternity in her beloved’s arms… Now that legend, she could believe in.

  BOUND LOVE

  Christine d’Abo

  Maili scratched her forearms raw as she paced the decaying hotel room. The stench of grease and rotted food from the Dumpster in the alley outside turned her stomach, but did little to distract her.

  She couldn’t stop it this time.

  Throwing herself against the wall, Maili pressed her fists against her eyes, sucking in deep breaths as if air were hard to come by. Being out of control was something she couldn’t afford, not with the bloodlust riding her so close, so hard. She was too old, too tired, and if she let herself slip into the oblivion of the lust, Maili knew it was a pit she wouldn’t be able to emerge from. The fine line between feeding her hunger and becoming a ravenous monster was one she dared not cross.