A Taste For Passion

by Patrice Michelle

Then why don't you let her get to know the real you, Duncan? Ian watched Mona trail her fingers over Duncan's saxophone sitting in its stand against the wall.

  Duncan met his gaze, his golden eyes so much like his own but more distant and intense than they should be. She thinks it's intriguing that I play the sax, but she's not really interested in music. She's here for one reason.

  His brother turned to her and put out his hand, saying, "Come with me, Mona."

  Duncan led Mona across the gleaming oak wood floor to the curved open staircase leading to his bedroom. Ian grinned as he slid his hand along the stair's chrome rail, following them. His brother certainly didn't waste any time.

  When they entered his bedroom, Duncan flipped his hand and a fire suddenly raged in the black marble fireplace. Mona gasped at the sight. Ian just shook his head. Duncan, for all his varying moods, from brooding to somber, could really put on a show when he chose to.

  While Mona stood in front of Duncan near the fireplace, Ian walked up behind her. He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her back against his hard erection. She made mewing sounds and rubbed her rear end closer. Ian gripped her hips tighter, the scent of her blood and arousal calling to him. Mona walked her fingers up Duncan's arms and started to put her arms around his neck, but he swiftly turned her around to face his brother. She sighed and wrapped her arms around Ian's neck.

  Ian met his twin's unfathomable gaze before he pulled Mona closer and kissed her, delving his tongue into her mouth, tasting her, priming her as he slowly slid her coat off her shoulders and unbuttoned her red silk vest, revealing naked breasts underneath. Duncan unzipped her matching skirt and she wiggled her hips to help him remove the fabric along with her underwear.

  Naked before them, Mona's head fell back as Ian cupped her breast in his hand and kissed a path down her throat, past the vein that beat rapidly in her neck. The fast rhythm of her pulse, such a beautiful sight to behold, beckoned to him. His nostrils flared as lust and raw hunger coalesced into an unfulfilled craving—the need for blood, for sustenance overpowering. He had to taste her.

  Have you fed, brother? He silently asked Duncan.

  Yes. Take your fill, Ian. Duncan turned to leave.

  Mona looked puzzled and asked, "Aren't you staying, Duncan?"

  "No, I'm going back downstairs."

  Anger sliced through Ian at his brother's refusal to get to know Mona, to share something intimate with another person. Duncan, I brought her for you. He let his annoyance come across in his thoughts as he held his brother's gaze.

  Yes, I know. Now enjoy my present, Ian. Duncan gave him an amused look before he walked out of the room.

  Ian turned back to Mona. Cupping the back of her head, he kissed her as the first few notes of Duncan's saxophone reached his ears—the tune, at first, hip and upbeat, slipped into a slower melody. The melancholy, lonely solo made his heart ache for his brother. When he slid his hands down her sides and pulled her closer to deepen the kiss, Ian felt Duncan probing his mind as he had done all their lives. His brother's ability had always given him an advantage over Ian in the past, but Duncan was unaware Ian had learned to add layers to his thinking over the years.

  Just below the surface of his consciousness, an idea formed, causing Ian to smile as his tongue traced a path down Mona's neck while he slid his fingers into the dark red curls between her legs. He wanted to feed her need as well as his own. Mona sighed her pleasure as his finger found her moist entrance and dove inside. The scent of her desire, the pounding of her blood throughout her veins, had his cock aching for release and his hunger raging within him.

  When she gripped his shoulders and threw her head back as he rubbed against her clitoris, Ian couldn't hold back any longer. He kissed a burning path back up the soft skin of her throat until his lips lay over her thudding pulse where he let his fangs unsheathe. As her body began to contract around his fingers, Ian sank his fangs into her flesh and drank his fill, the warmth of her blood flowing over his tongue and into his mouth, filling him, satiating his gnawing hunger, fueling his unfulfilled desire.

  Mona screamed as her orgasm rolled through her, clutching his shoulders tight, arching into him as if she couldn't get close enough. Ian kept the pace with his hand until she was totally fulfilled. After he licked the wounds on her neck closed, he found her slumberous emerald green gaze staring back at him, full of awe mixed with sensual mischief. He grinned, swiftly removed his clothes, and pulled her over to the bed.

  Mona pushed him back against the headboard and settled beside him, curling her legs underneath her. When she stroked his cock with her hand, Ian rocked his hips, waiting in anticipation for her hot mouth to surround him. The warmth of her tongue, tracing a moist path around his hard erection, felt so good. He groaned his approval. Ian closed his eyes and bucked against her while he ran his hand up her spine to cup the back of her neck.

  Sliding his hands into her hair, he directed her pace until she found the rhythm that had his balls tightening against him, his blood pumping faster in his body. Ian slowed his own impending climax down in order to take care of Mona's needs. There's no reason she shouldn't enjoy all the benefits a vampire could offer her.

  He mentally ran his hands across her backside, skimming them closer to her swollen labia. Mona paused her movements, stilling against him. He knew the sensations surprised her because his hands were still in her hair. He whispered soothing words in her mind, assuring her. When she moaned against him, accepting what he offered her, Ian swiped an invisible finger across her clitoris and smiled at her sigh of contentment.

  As he mentally slid two fingers inside her, she gave a delighted whimper and then moaned against his erection, spreading her legs and elevating her rear, silently asking for more. Ian accommodated her, adding a thumb to the mixture, rubbing it across her nub. Mona's mouth closed tighter around his cock as she rocked with his mental stimulation. Ian regretted he wasn't privy to her emotions. He needed to feel a much deeper connection with her to be able to experience her feelings, which was a shame, for he would dearly love to send all those sensations straight to Duncan.

  When her increased pace on his shaft sent his need nearly spiraling out of control, Ian experienced the knotting pressure deep in his groin as he held back in order to send his own mental and physical sensations to his brother. He smirked in satisfaction when he heard the music abruptly stop, followed by Duncan's hissing intake of breath.

  Duncan's presence, aggressive, angry, and thoroughly aroused, forced his way past Ian's mental his barriers, entering his mind. Ian felt his brother's coiled anger, his resentment over Ian's sharing his feelings with him, his self-loathing that he couldn't resist the lure his twin passed on to him.

  Duncan's words, full of sarcasm, entered his mind, Ever felt another's orgasm, Ian?

  Before Ian could reply, Duncan turned the tables on him and forced him to accept Mona's thoughts and feelings, sending them to Ian in rapid, relentless succession—lust, passion, raging desire, tension, voices and chants, pleading and begging, internal thoughts and moans mixed with sensation after sensation slammed into his consciousness. Ian groaned and jerked at the sensory overload, coming so hard and so fast he thought his heart would burst from his chest.

  When Mona finished with him, she pulled away as her own body trembled from the after effects of her orgasm. After she stopped shaking she looked up at him, her eyes wide, and said, "That was amazing."

  Ian chuckled, pulled her into him arms, and kissed her. She sighed and snuggled against his chest. He held her close for a while before he ran a hand down her cheek and compelled her to sleep. He'd taken her blood and he knew she needed to rest.

  He was pleased that he had gotten Duncan to participate, because Ian knew for Duncan to share Mona's thoughts and emotions with him, his brother would have to had experienced them himself.

  Once he was dressed, Ian walked back downstairs to see Duncan sitting on the couch, staring into the fire. Ian grinned when he walked around the sofa
to face his brother.

  Duncan refused to look at him as he spoke, his face taut with anger, "I know you had the best intentions, Ian, but you need to stop trying to make me into someone I'm not."

  Ian stretched and smiled as he sat down on the other end of the couch. He didn't let his brother's fierce expression bother him in the least. "I know you better than anyone, Duncan. You thoroughly enjoyed that. Admit it?"

  Duncan's gaze lifted to the staircase. Ian knew his brother pictured Mona's beautiful body, her lush breasts and pink nipples jutting toward him, laid back across his burgundy silk comforter. When Ian saw the look of longing in his twin's face before he masked it behind an inscrutable expression, he vowed to himself he'd do everything in his power to help Duncan find happiness.

  * * * * *

  When the evening arrived, Lucian awoke quickly, having slept very little. The darkness couldn't come soon enough as far as his peace of mind was concerned. He had to know. Was Rana Sterling Elizabeth reborn?

  As soon as he got up from bed, he immediately called the funeral home. The curator didn't have any recourse against his hypnotic voice. He gave Lucian the information he sought. Armed with Rana's address, Lucian shapeshifted into a raven in mere seconds and took off toward his destiny.

  Without a sound, he folded his raven's wings and landed on her balcony. Shifting into mist, he slid between the French doors and materialized near her bed.

  She stirred and turned toward him. Even though he could see her features perfectly with his night vision, he moved so the moonlight shined on her face, its gentle glow accentuating her rosy skin.

  He recognized the heart-shaped face with high cheekbones and a strong chin as the woman he'd seen a week ago—the woman who'd slammed him with intense physical awareness with only a brush of her shoulder.

  He wanted to run his fingers through the ash-blond hair splayed across her pillow, touch her full lips, curved in sleep as if she were smiling at something or someone.

  Her hand rested on the pillow near her cheek, the ring's stones catching the moon's bright light. Lucian reached out and touched his creation. The ring, made of a special amalgam he'd had created by a gypsy metallurgist, was meant to absorb its wearer's scent. His heart pounded, blood rushed to fill his erection, making him more aware of his naked state. He'd been so enthralled with seeing Rana again, he hadn't thought to create the illusion of clothes once he'd shifted to human form.

  He sank to his knees beside the bed, gently lifted her hand and brought it to his nose, inhaling. Peace washed over him. After seventy years of waiting, he'd finally found her. The scent was his, mixed with hers—different than he remembered Elizabeth's to be, because now the ring carried Rana's own special smell—sweet, with a hint of citrus.

  This woman's alluring fragrance magnified tenfold the response he'd had to Elizabeth. He hadn't anticipated how keenly it would affect him. The fire in his veins burned intensely. Lucian closed his eyes, thankful for a second chance.

  Looking at her face once more, so beautiful and peaceful in sleep, his chest contracted with love; he heard her heart beating, the rush of her warm blood coursing through her veins.

  He imagined her writhing under him, arching her back, baring her neck. "Make love to me, Lucian," she'd call out frantically. The fantasy brought a smile to his lips. He touched her hair and whispered, "Soon, my love. Soon." He turned, shimmered into mist and left the way he came.

  * * * * *

  Rana awoke to the blaring beep of her alarm clock. She moaned and hit the snooze button with her palm. Nine minutes later, the offending noise sounded again. She grimaced and pulled herself out of bed, looking longingly at her novel that had fallen to the floor last night.

  She'd never been much of a morning person, always preferring to stay up late, reading into the wee hours of the morning. Splaying her fingers against her scalp, she combed through her tangled mass of hair and stared bleary-eyed at herself in the mirror. "Ugh! I need a shower," she mumbled as she drew her hands over her face.

  The scent of lavender, strong and sweet tickled her nostrils. Rana tilted her hand and sniffed the ring on her finger. The odor was strong and clean and now included a citrus smell as well. It was definitely coming from the ring. Odd, that. How long can a ring carry the prior owner's scent? Hmmm, she really liked the perfume. Maybe she'd head down to the department store at lunch and see if they recognized the flowery aroma.

  Fearful of washing the scent away, she reached up to remove the ring from her finger and found it lodged in place. No matter how hard she tugged, it wouldn't budge. Finally, she gave up, oddly comforted by the fact the ring seemed to have become a part of her. She just hoped her bath wouldn't dilute the fragrance too much.

  * * * * *

  Rana parked her car, waited on the curb for rush hour traffic, paused, and then walked across the street to open her bookstore. She lifted the ring to her nose and smiled, pleased her shower hadn't erased the pleasant scent.

  Inside, she snapped the shades up and turned the Closed sign to Open before shutting the door behind her. The bookstore's heavy aroma of old and new books greeted her like an old friend. There was nothing she enjoyed more. Well, except for the smell of her new ring. Her smile broadened at the thought.

  She'd set up the shop with more than just browsing in mind, adding an elevated area right next to the big picture window to be used as a reading corner. A carpeted floor scattered with brightly colored oversized pillows and cushioned chairs waited for readers to enjoy a good book. Twice a month, she had cookies and drinks for her customers, encouraging them to sit down and read while in her store.

  The bell above the door chimed, bringing her out of her reverie. She turned as David walked in, carrying a potted plant with a red bow.

  "Good morning, David. Enjoying your fall break?"

  He nodded and handed her the plant. "I'm sorry about your grandfather, Rana."

  Tears stung her eyes. No, not here. She wasn't going to cry. She needed to be strong. Rana gave David a tremulous smile and took the plant from him. "Thank you for thinking of me."

  The silence stretched out between them and David shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the next as if he didn't know what to say next.

  With an inward smile, Rana decided to put the poor guy out of his misery. "Jack left me his 'Vette."

  David's eyes lit up. "Really? Your grandfather was so cool, Rana."

  She laughed. "I know. Have you come to see the new books?"

  "Got any on werewolves?" he asked eagerly.

  Rana shook her head. "Well, not any new books."

  At David's forlorn expression, she pointed to two boxes in front of the counter. "I just bought a slew of used books. You could go through them and see if there's anything in there."

  David's eyes lit up. "Awesome. I'll help you catalogue them, okay?"

  Rana laughed. "Sure, and whatever you find on werewolves you can keep as long as your parents say it's okay."

  David grinned and began opening the boxes.

  They worked in companionable silence as they pulled out, tagged and cataloged the books for the used bookshelf.

  "Ah, ha." She lifted a book and swung it underneath his nose, a grin on her face. "What about a book on vampires?"

  David's expression showed no interest. "No thanks. I only want ones on werewolves."

  Rana chuckled and continued with her work.

  As lunchtime approached, David rose and stretched. "I'll be back in an hour, okay Rana?"

  Rana smiled at his all-business tone. "I'll see you then."

  When David left, she locked up her store and walked the three blocks down to Bennett's department store.

  Approaching the perfume counter, she said, "Hi, I'm trying to find a particular scent."

  "Sure." The bubbly blond behind the counter smiled. "What's the name?"

  Rana gave her an apologetic smile. "I don't know." She tried to pull off the ring once more, but the darn thing may as well have been welded to her fing
er. Finally, she lifted her hand, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment and said, "Well, it smells like this ring."

  Candice, or so her nametag read, leaned forward and sniffed the ring. Leaning back, she said in a polite voice, "I don't smell anything."

  Rana frowned and smelled the ring once more. As strong as can be, the ring radiated a citrus-lavender fragrance.

  "What does it smell like to you?" Candice offered.

  Rana looked at her and said absently, "Oh, the closest I could get to defining the scent would be lavender with a hint of citrus."

  Candice bent over and pulled out two bottles of perfume. "This one has lavender and this one has lemons and oranges. We don't have any that has both." She grinned. "Though it does sound like an intriguing combination."

  Rana picked up one and then the other, but neither smelled at all like her ring. She smiled. "Thanks, I think I'll keep looking."

  She walked out of the store, surprised that the girl behind the counter couldn't differentiate the scent. Maybe being surrounded by all those fragrances dulled her sense of smell. She lifted the ring to her nose once more. The metal still smelled like lavender but now the citrus smell seemed more pronounced. Weird. Well, if the ring continued to emit this scent, she wouldn't need any perfume anyway.

  She made it back to her store and spent the rest of the afternoon showing new books to visiting customers.

  While she rang up a customer, David let out a hoot of excitement and jumped up from the floor. "I've got one."

  "Found a book on werewolves?" Rana smiled at his excitement.

  David grinned. "Can I take it home and read it after I finish these last couple of books?"

  Rana waved her hand. "Go on now. It's almost time to go home anyway."

  The customer, an older lady, smiled and followed David out of the store.

  Rana glanced at her watch. Ten more minutes and it's quittin' time, she thought to herself.

  She bent over and picked up the last two books. The bell chimed and a man walked in. Rana glanced up and saw him browsing through a shelf of autobiographies.