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Seduction's Bite

Page 4

by Madison Layle


  Although he hadn't intended to go far, she didn't know that. Neither did he tell her he'd planned to keep an eye on her until he found her partner and was certain the Horde hadn't discovered her identity. Of course, he didn't realize at the time she'd booked a room so close to the café.

  He still found her cleverness surprising, and that amused him.

  She might not fully trust him yet, but she'd obviously decided to not let their time together end. And that was fine with him. So long as she didn't have an unwelcome surprise waiting for him in her room. It bothered him that he hadn't been able to locate her partner.

  He paused as she used her keycard to open the door. Walking in, she flipped on the light and turned to face him with a hesitant smile.

  "Well, don't just stand there. Come on in.” She tossed her purse and keycard on the dresser.

  His senses confirmed the room was empty except for her. He entered and allowed the door to close behind him. At its click, such a final sound, she lowered her gaze and appeared much more nervous than she did seconds earlier. He'd have to do something about that. But first, he scanned the room.

  The king-sized bed was turned down. A small table held some paperwork and a laptop. Only one suitcase sat neatly on a luggage stand, the zipper open but top down. And a makeup bag lay near the sink underneath the mirror, which showed his reflection and hers.

  A good thing that myth was false, too, he thought mildly.

  She looked around, approached the table where she straightened up the papers. “It's not much, but it's home for tonight."

  "You don't have to do this,” he said, “not if you're uncomfortable."

  She stopped, stared, and gave him a self-deprecating chuckle. “That obvious, is it?"

  "A bit.” He smiled, approached her, and lifted a hand to cup her face.

  "It's just been ... a long time."

  "I'm content to follow your lead.” For now, he didn't add. His thumb brushed across her cheek, having no effect on the blush there. “We can go as fast or as slow as you want."

  She closed her eyes and raised her hand to cover his. Stepping closer, he cradled her face and lowered his head to kiss her. The moment their lips touched, she sighed and leaned into him. Despite her heels, she was shorter than he was and had to rise up on tiptoe. But, when her arms encircled his neck, he pulled her tight against him, and her curves perfectly aligned with his body. His fingers splayed across her back to hold her in place.

  She turned to plant kisses along his jaw, his neck. The moment her lips pressed against his own pulse, his cock hardened in an instant. He lifted his face toward heaven and groaned. Her steady heartbeat called to him, and he had to fight the desire to take more than what she offered. When her nails lightly scored his back, he responded by cupping her butt to hold her snug against his groin so she'd have no doubt of what her touch did to him.

  A tug drew his attention, and he sucked in his stomach while she pulled his T-shirt from his jeans. He allowed her to strip his jacket and the shirt from his body before he returned the favor by removing her blazer and blouse. His first sight of the ivory satin bra made him want to rip it off with his teeth. Instead, he made short work of the tiny fasteners and sent the delicate lingerie to the floor with the rest of their clothes.

  Her breathing and heartbeat testified to a growing urgency that had an effect on her fingers while they fumbled with his button fly. He had better luck with her slacks and soon, they slithered down to reveal legs he longed to have wrapped around his waist.

  She kicked off her heels and stepped out of the pants. Then, brushing his hands aside, she went back to work on his buttons. Although he wanted to smile, other urges gained his attention when she accomplished her goal and pushed his jeans down around his thighs. He released a sigh even as his cock swelled inside his underwear at the touch of her hand. She stroked him twice before he had to stay her hand or risk embarrassment.

  Her gaze shot to his when he grabbed her wrist and said her name. He released her and slid his own underwear downward. She didn't drop her gaze, but instead, tucked a thumb in each side of her own panties and sent them to the floor.

  He sensed her challenge in that stare, but he didn't give a fuck about winning such a game. He conceded victory to her, took his time, and let his gaze drift down over every luscious curve of her body. By the time he'd traveled back along the same path to look her in the eye once more, his own heartbeat was none too steady, and he felt most of it throb in his cock.

  She was so damn beautiful, he expected to wake up any moment, pissed as hell that the vision before him was a dream. But the vision was real. So was the mischievous smile that flashed across her face and the push that forced him to sit on the bed or fall.

  "Did you mean what you said?” she asked as she tugged on his pants and underwear.

  "About what?” He thought she intended to strip him completely, but she left the clothes just past his knees. When she ran her hands up over his thighs, his muscles tensed and his cock took notice. He damn near cursed aloud when those sweet hands slid to the mattress on either side of his hips.

  "Following my lead. Letting me set the pace.” She crawled onto the bed and straddled his lap.

  He normally controlled foreplay and dominated the women he fucked, but if it would make her more comfortable to feel in command, he'd let her be on top. This time.

  He cupped her ass with both hands and gave her a cautious smile. “I like your pace so far.” Her body nudged his cock, and he wanted nothing more than to lift her so that he could slide deep inside her pussy.

  She ran a fingertip around one of his nipples, her short nail flicking the tip. “A part of me wants to sexually assault every inch of you,” she admitted, making him laugh.

  "Have your way with me. You won't hear me cry for mercy."

  She grinned, her eyes bright and her cheeks rosy. “But another part of me wants to take my time and make this last.” She looked him in the eye, her expression serious once more. “I don't usually do one-night stands, but I'm not asking for more than here and now."

  He studied her face, saw the longing mixed with caution, and nodded. He refused to dwell on why her words rocked him to his soul. He should be grateful that she didn't seek any long-lasting relationship—they never worked between humans and vampires—but he wasn't. And he didn't want to acknowledge that her touch made him feel as if his life had just begun, but she had that effect.

  "Now is all we ever have,” he said. “The past is gone, and tomorrow may never come. I'm prepared to make now last as long you want it to ... if you are."

  With a tender smile, she ran her hands over his shoulders and pulled him forward for a chaste kiss that he turned into something deep and poignant.

  Wrapping his arms around her, he fell backwards onto the bed, taking her with him. His legs still hung off it, bent at the knees and trapped within his jeans. She pushed up to look down at him, her grin broad, and her hair like a curtain of privacy around them.

  He let his hands roam over the swell of her hips, the dip of her waist. Upward until he stopped to knead her breasts and thumb her taut nipples. She ran her fingers along his arms, shoulders, and pecs. Dipping her head lower, she pressed another kiss on his mouth, and he took advantage of the move to hug her close, bucking his hips to rub his cock against her pussy.

  Her whimper proved she wasn't unaffected, so he repeated the move, his hands squeezing her buttocks, caressing her thighs. While she took charge of the kiss, he took control in other ways. He cupped the back of her neck to hold her close for the kiss and slipped his other hand between them to tease her clit.

  At the first touch, he found her moist with arousal, ready for him. He didn't rush, though. She wanted it to last, and he'd do his damndest to make it happen. He started slow, rubbing her pussy lips, exploring at his leisure. Then he circled her clit, plucking it until she squirmed above him.

  Swallowing her groan, he continued their kiss and pushed a finger inside her pussy to app
ease some of the hunger she expressed. It wasn't enough, he knew—not for her or him—but he wanted to make this first time together memorable. He pushed a second finger inside, curving them to stroke her G-spot.

  She jerked free of their kiss and took a deep breath, her eyes closed and mouth wide open. The sight was the most passionate moment of his rather long life. He stared, trying to memorize every detail. Her lips were moist, plump from their kisses. Her cheeks were flushed, and her beautiful hair offered a soft frame for her face.

  "Want me to slow down?” he asked, half teasing, half praying for a negative answer.

  Her fingers bit into his shoulders as she held herself up. Panting, she rotated her hips, her only response to his question. So he began to move his fingers inside her once more, his thumb massaging her clit. The moment he felt her thighs tremble, he guided her closer and sucked the tip of one breast into his mouth. Her reaction was immediate; she tossed her head back and moaned. With one hand, she cradled his head while he took his time suckling. But, all too soon, her heartbeat sped up. Her breathing quickened.

  He pulled his fingers out of her, and she rubbed her pussy over his fully aroused cock. His fangs lengthened. He released her breast, grabbed her hips, and lifted her. He ground his teeth together, kept his lips closed tight, and met her gaze.

  Her expression wasn't one of alarm as he'd feared. Instead, her eyes were dark with passion. With his last thread of control, he guided her onto his cock in a slow, almost agonizing descent, and watched her eyelids drift closed. Inch by inch, he entered her tight pussy. The warm slide of her inner walls was almost his undoing. He pressed his head against the bed, his whole body taut with unrestrained need.

  One final nudge and she was seated with his cock buried to the hilt. He lay there not wanting to move, yet he couldn't help it. His cock throbbed inside her, a steady, insistent thump that increased when he lifted her to slam her down again. His thrust embedded his cock so deep, he felt the pleasure of their union in the marrow of his bones.

  "Oh, God...” she murmured, the sound breathy.

  "Ride me, chére.” She moved a little, but it wasn't enough. “Ride me. Harder.” He guided her as she obeyed his plea. Her nails bit into his shoulders, not that he cared one whit. “Yesss,” he hissed, letting his palms climb her torso to fondle her firm breasts.

  "Oh yeah.” She moaned in agreement. The scent of sex surrounded him, the sweet sounds of her desire engulfed his senses, and her pulse called to him.

  He needed more and lifted his hips to collide with her next downward thrust. And the next. With each collision of their bodies, her heartbeat pounded—a sound that echoed in his mind.

  "Fuck,” he said, the curse bursting from his lips before he could prevent it. “That's so good.” He pinched her nipples, rolling them between thumb and forefinger.

  Her pace increased as she succumbed to the allure of control and rode him with complete abandon. His climax imminent, he released her breasts and clawed at the sheets in an attempt to hold it and his hunger for a taste of her blood at bay ... a little longer. But then her orgasm struck. Her body shuddered with sweet release around him. He lost his fight, arched his back, and slammed into her pussy with one final stroke, coming deep into her womb.

  That's when her scream of fright pierced the night.

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  Chapter Six

  Cheyenne felt the jolt of his final thrust, the impact rippling through her system with heady tingles. He filled her so completely, her whole body warmed to his touch, and she panted as she tried to quell the excited thudding of her heart.

  Awash with overwhelming pleasure, she opened her eyes to watch his reaction to their shared rapture. There beneath her lay—

  Vampire! Head back, mouth open, and fangs.

  Terror ripped her heart in two. A scream tore from her lungs. Adrenaline screeched through her body.

  She scrambled off of him. Her knee to his gut no doubt caused the grunt she heard, but she didn't stop in her dash for a weapon. Throwing open her suitcase, she snatched the first knife she could find and turned around, buck-naked, ready to attack.

  Kieran had yanked up his briefs and pants, was trying to fasten the button fly, and she saw her chance.

  With a shrill cry, she lunged at him, but he turned just in time to throw off her aim.

  The blade sliced his shoulder and slid past the mark. With a hissed curse, he grabbed her wrist and swung her into the bed. She fell face first, bounced on the mattress, and tried to scurry away.

  He caught her ankle, and she screamed. With a strong tug, he dragged her back toward him. She kicked out, flipped over, and came up with the knife. He stopped her swing a mere inch short of its target.

  One blink of an eyelash later, he had her pinned face up on the bed. He held her wrists in an unyielding grasp. Her body lay trapped beneath his solid thighs.

  Slowly, he squeezed her wrist until she cried out and lost her grip on the knife.

  She was dead now. It was just a matter of seconds. But she wouldn't go down without a fight. She continued to struggle, trying to twist and bite him before he could bite her and end her life.

  "Would you fucking stop already?” he shouted, yanking her arms straight out to either side. “I'm beginning to wonder who the damn vampire is in here—me or you!"

  "Get it over with, you bastard.” She would not beg for her life. She had nothing more to live for anyway, except for the wish that she could take his ass to hell with her. She jerked and thrashed, trying to find a weakness, any means for escape.

  "I'm not going to kill you, Cheyenne. You can stop struggling, too, because I won't release you either. Not yet."

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she dropped her head to the mattress and drew in huge amounts of air. Why would he not just kill her and be done with it? Why fuck her first, unless he intended to...

  "I'll never let you do it."

  "Do what exactly?” he asked, his tone one of obvious frustration. She refused to look at him. His eyes were too dangerously alluring.

  "Turn me. I won't drink your blood, so you might as well kill me now. If you don't, if you somehow manage to turn me, I swear I'll kill myself the first chance I get."

  "I'm not here to turn you.” Now he sounded pissed or appalled, or both. “I've never turned a human, and won't, especially not against your will. Even as a vampire, I have my limits."

  She opened her eyes and looked at his face, but movement lower drew her gaze. His necklace...

  What kind of vampire wears a cross? Her attempts to get free ceased as she puzzled over the discovery. Then other facts of the past few hours came to mind. He'd attended her speech tonight ... before sunset. He'd eaten food. How was that possible?

  She stared at the golden pendant that dangled in front of her like some hypnotic lure.

  He looked down at his necklace and back at her, his fists still firm around her wrists. “Some of your assumptions are inaccurate,” he stated, as if to answer her unspoken question.

  So what if she'd been wrong about that, she fumed. She wasn't wrong about vampires being murderers. Although she no longer scrabbled with him, she continued to plot for some way to get the upper hand, to escape, to survive.

  He'd softened her up with his charming ways and sexy-as-hell good looks. But weren't serial killers often described as charming and attractive? Her mistake had been to assume all vampires acted like the monsters that killed her family.

  He might be different from other vampires she'd encountered. Maybe he liked to meet and toy with his victims before drinking them dry. But, crucifix or not, she couldn't accept his word that he wasn't out to kill her. He was a vampire. Killing was what vampires did.

  Blood stained his arm and chest below where she'd cut him, but the flow had nearly stopped already. A long, thin slice, it hadn't been a deep enough wound—nor large enough—to weaken him with excessive blood loss. And it was nighttime. She might not understand how he walked about in the daytime, but
she was certain he'd be at full strength, like others of his kind, so long as the sun lay beneath the horizon.

  She'd have to find some way to convince him it was safe to let her get up. Buy herself time to come up with a solution. She forced her entire body to relax, regulating her breaths and calming her heartbeat. Let him think he had command of the situation.

  His grip on her wrists loosened, but he didn't release her.

  "Are you ready to settle down and listen?"

  "Will you please let me get dressed?” she asked.

  "I will. As soon as I'm certain you won't come at me with another blade."

  "I won't."

  His eyes narrowed.

  "I promise,” she added, trying for a sincere, harmless expression. A large, sharp stake would do the trick.

  "You'll have to do a lot better than that if you hope to convince me you're willing to sit down and discuss our differences, without violence, like two sane human beings should."

  She frowned. “In case you have been unable to look in the mirror lately, you really should know you're not human."

  "That doesn't make me a bad person."

  Stunned at his audacity, she gaped, turned her face away, and tried another approach. “Fine then. A gentleman would let a lady up so she could get dressed."

  He chuckled. “I never claimed to be a gentleman. And a lady would not attack an unarmed man with a knife."

  She glared at him. “You're a vampire ... with fangs. Since when do you ever go around unarmed?"

  His lips twitched, and then he grinned—those very white, very sharp fangs quite visible now. “Good point."

  "Thank you. Now, let me up. Please."

  He scooted backwards off of her and pulled her up by the wrists. Still holding onto them, he warned, “Put some clothes on ... slowly. One false move and modesty be damned. I'll tie you up regardless of what you do or do not have on."

 

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