That’s right, I think to myself, touch me. Because I intend to reciprocate fully. I have waited far too long for this.
I reach for her gauzy white blouse and work the buttons loose, quickly shedding the garment to the floor. She reaches for my blue button-down and does the same. Perfectly in tune to each other, we pause our kiss to take each other in before we are back to the ravenous, hungry pace.
I run my hand up the side of her waist and savor the delicate soft skin under my fingertips before making a small tear in the front of her brassiere. I have no patience for clasps tonight.
I cup her warm breast and enjoy the weight and feel in my hands. Her skin is silky and hot, and I want to bury myself in her. I want to lose myself in her sweet scent and the sound of her beating heart.
I help her undo the button of my jeans and shed my pants before picking her up. I have imagined being with her so many times, I can hardly believe this is happening.
She wraps her legs around my waist and presses her pillowy soft breasts against my hard chest. I want to tear away her jeans, but if I do, I’ll be inside her before we’re even lying down. Yes, in this moment, I am thinking of my own selfish pleasure, of relieving the ache of my lust, but I am no fool, and I am certainly no twenty-year-old lad. I learned long ago that the sweetest release takes work, it takes time, but it happens when you are sheathed deep inside a woman while she climaxes. There is nothing better.
I push the button on one of the seats toward the back, extending it to the inclined position. I lower her onto the soft white leather and break away from our kiss long enough to peel away her jeans and undergarment. She looks up at me with those deep brown eyes, her long hair loose around her shoulders, and I lose my mind. I do not recall ever seeing a more beautiful woman so wild with desire.
She stares, drinking in my nude form, including my manhood. I know I must seem like a beast in this moment. Every muscle in my body is pulsing with tension and need.
“Wow. You are really hot, Michael.”
I glance down at my six-pack. It pales in comparison to her curves and feminine beauty, but I do not say a word. I am not in a talking mood.
I lay myself over her, settling between her thighs, and return to our voracious kisses. With a prod of her hips, she presses her most intimate spot against the base of my throbbing shaft. It sends me off a cliff.
I take her hands, press them over her head, and kiss my way down her neck, settling my lips over the rapid pulse just beneath her delicate skin.
She stills, suddenly realizing what I am about to do. I would explain it to her, I would tell her it is perfectly safe, and she will enjoy it, but this is the sort of thing one must experience firsthand.
I thrust myself inside her and bite down. She gasps, and I feel her tense beneath me. She tastes sweet. But not so innocent. Though the lack of spicy heat on my tongue confirms what I’ve always known; she is special and purehearted. For a devilish prick like me, she is a sinful treat I will never tire of.
It only takes a moment for my sweet librarian to let go and give in to the pleasure—the suction of my mouth coupled with my movements deep inside her. Some call it a trick of the trade, I call it a perk of lying with a man like myself.
I thrust with more forceful strokes, completely lost in the ecstasy of plunging into such delicious silky warmth, while our two bodies writhe in an animalistic rhythm.
The air fills with her moans and my deep grunts. She digs the heels of her feet into the backs of my thighs, urging me to go harder, deeper. I must be careful not to go too far. She is not like me. She is fragile and alive. So alive.
I give her what she wants and take what she gives, one erotic pounding at a time. I can’t get enough of her, of the friction of her around me.
Suddenly, I feel her body tensing. I break the seal on her neck and press my forehead to hers, careful not to let our lips touch. She will not taste what I taste. It will only remind her of who’s inside her. A vampire. A man who should not be alive but is and has killed again and again to stay that way.
But hell, I want her. I want this. And I’ve never wanted anything more.
She moans, and I feel her warmth quiver around my shaft. I let go, and the release is intoxicating—halting my breath, my mind, and everything around me. I pour into her, and she digs her nails into my back. I love it. The moment couldn’t be any more delicious.
After several long waves of release chase through me, I begin moving slowly, wringing out the last few shudders from her body before I collapse on top of her. Her breath is hard and fast, and I soak it in. The speed of her heart. The sugary smell of her sweat. The feeling of still being joined.
In four hundred years, I have never been with a woman and experienced this—sated yet so hungry for me.
“Oh my God, Michael,” she pants, “that was amazing.”
“Yes.” I can’t say more. I can hardly move.
“And did you bite me?”
“Yes.” I kiss the spot at the side of her neck. “Just a little.” To her it will appear like the smallest scratch. The hickey I just left on her is another story. I hope she forgives me. And brought some makeup or a turtleneck.
“Michael?”
“Yes.”
“Can you…ummm…”
I lift my head and stare deeply into her chocolate-colored eyes, glossy with bliss. “Yes?”
“Can you…do that again?” she asks.
“It would be my pleasure.” I seal my mouth over hers, knowing the flavor has cleared out. We start the dance all over again, and I savor every moment. I don’t know what lies ahead, so I’ll take the wins where I can get them.
CHAPTER TEN
Several hours later, I have made love to Miriam more times than I have with any woman. Or in the last century alone. Hey, do not judge me. As I said, sex lost its appeal after I turned one hundred. From time to time, I would feel the need and take care of things—plenty of women out there for a man like myself. But something was always lacking. Now I know what. A deeper connection.
I lay spooning her, both of us stretched across the narrow seat.
“Michael?” she says quietly.
“Yes?” I reply, thoroughly exhausted, but content for the first time I can ever recall. Home is the only word that comes to mind.
“I have a lot of questions.”
“I thought you might,” I whisper against the back of her neck.
“I’m not going to get pregnant, am I?”
I chuckle. It is a little late to be asking, but… “No. Not possible.”
“Oh good. I saw that Twilight movie, and the girl gets knocked up by her vampire boyfriend.”
“Complete fiction. Well, except for the day walking and fast running. Also, we go insane if we do not sleep. We need downtime to keep our minds functioning properly.”
“Oh.” There’s an awkward silence. “How did you become a vampire?”
I give her the short version, which comes down to getting a respiratory infection. I lived just outside London at the time in my family’s home. My father, a merchant, had left with my mother to New Amsterdam, now New York City, to cash in on the settlers who were in need of building supplies, cooking utensils, and everything else one could imagine. I was left to be raised by a governess, servants, and, later, my professors at Cambridge. Clive was one of them, and we had an instant rapport—the father figure I always needed. Patient. Wise. Educated in the ways of the world.
“When I became ill, he could not stand to let me go. So he didn’t,” I say.
Still facing forward, Miriam sighs. “That is a sad but sweet story.”
I leave out the part about how bitter I felt over what he did. I hadn’t been the most religious man, but I did fear God. In my eyes, Clive made me into a demon. I spent a very long time coming to grips with what I was during my fur trapper/hunter days, but I eventually made my way back to Clive. That was when I learned there are two kinds of vampires: The ones who wanted to enslave humans like chattel, and
those who wanted to live in peace and in secret. Things eventually came to a head between the two groups during the Great War.
“I think I need a drink to hear the rest of this.” She sits up and twists around to look at me.
Her blonde hair is a hot mess, and her lips are swollen like two ripe berries from all of the kissing. I want to take a picture of her in this state so I can remember it always. Idiot. Like you would ever forget.
I hop up, slide on my jeans, and go to the back of the cabin. There is a small kitchenette and minifridge. I find a bottle of water and some of those tiny vodkas. Tucked in the door are some snack bars, so I grab one, too.
Miriam is dressing by the time I turn back toward her. I watch in silence, dumbfounded, as she covers her smooth round—
“Stop staring at my butt.” She chuckles, but keeps her back to me.
“Not possible.”
She slides up her jeans and puts on her blouse while I mourn the loss of the view. Those shoulders, the gentle curve of her thighs, the dip that runs the length of her spine, fading into the valley of the most perfect body part I’ve ever seen.
How is it possible I have never noticed the true beauty of a woman until now? Four hundred years old, and I feel like I am seeing it for the first time.
Miriam finishes dressing and takes a seat.
“Which do you prefer?” I sit beside her across the narrow aisle and hold out water in one hand, vodka in the other.
She grabs the water, guzzles it down, and then snatches the vodka. That, too, is gone in a second. I offer her the snack bar, but she declines. “I’m not hungry. Got any more water? And vodka?”
I retrieve them for her and watch them disappear.
“Better?”
“No.” She shakes her head, keeping her eyes glued to the seat back in front of her.
“Trouble processing?” I retake my seat.
“Yes. Most definitely.”
“Understandable,” I reply and wait. This is not a moment to assert myself, and I know it. My true nature is a frightening thing to comprehend. My history, once I tell her the full story, might drive her to hate me. Hell, even I hate me for it, though I know I did what I had to. Someone had to be the Executioner. But that does not mean the faces do not haunt me, especially those of the children who weren’t really children. Just monsters wearing masks, waiting to slaughter innocent people. Nevertheless, I felt no sense of victory after the war ended, and now I am questioning the point. What was it all for? Because here I am, three hundred years later, facing a collapse of everything I worked for.
“Are you really in love with me?” Miriam blurts out.
And point for the librarian, cutting straight to the chase. My fearless bibliophile. “Yes.” I look at her, but her eyes remain focused straight ahead. I do not mind. Whatever she needs to do to hear the truth.
“And the real reason for your creepy party?” she asks.
“I meant to perform the vampire wedding ceremony without your knowledge so that my soldiers will see you as an extension of myself and protect you.”
“Marriage?” She turns her head, eyebrows raised.
“Yes.”
“And why do I need the protection of soldiers?”
“We are about to go to war. The old regime wishes to reestablish itself.”
“I’m assuming this would be a bad thing for people like me.”
“Yes,” I reply. “Very bad. They wish to return to the days when humans were treated as livestock.”
“And Jeremy?” Her tiny hands grip the armrests of her chair. “You said he was a vampire too, but there’s more to the story, isn’t there?”
“He…” I whoosh out a breath.
“Tell me.”
I want to protect her. It’s in my nature to do so, and I do not care why, but now is not the time to hold back. She deserves the truth if we are to come out of this alive.
“He was one of them—the bad guys. He was there to try to win your trust and convince you to sell your land to those land developers.”
Miriam scoffs. “Jeremy. What a…jerk.”
“Basically, yes.”
She shakes her head. “And here I’ve been crying myself to sleep every night.”
“I’m sure he cared about you, Miriam. At least, to some extent. But they were merely after your land.” I explain the blood farm, the catacombs, and how my maker was murdered to build a ruthless army.
“Holy cow.” She looks out the window and sighs. “I guess I always suspected something was off with him and that whole situation. I mean, who tries to murder a librarian?”
“Monsters. This is why I killed the men they hired to hurt you.”
She nods stoically. “Thank you.”
“No thanks required. I did what was right.”
She looks at me once again, her brown eyes filled with tears. “But you saved me, didn’t you? The hospital. The attacks. The cult.”
I nod.
“Not a cult at all,” she concludes correctly. It dawns on me that while I have been working through my own mysteries, she has, too. I also realize that perhaps this “thing” between us is not so sudden after all. Since we’ve met, I’ve been there for her, protecting her, fighting for her. Those intelligent, observant eyes have been watching my every move. She may not have known my species, but she knows what sort of man I am.
“No,” I finally confirm. “They were my council—the same ones now missing. They took us prisoner because they believed we were involved in the blood farm.” Once I uncovered it, I ended up getting blamed. Our enemies took great care to frame me and cover their tracks.
“And you…you saved me again,” she mutters.
I nod once more.
Miriam swallows hard and looks up at the ceiling, a few stray tears sliding from the corners of her eyes. “From the first moment we met, I knew something was different.”
“I felt the same. It is why I stayed when you thought I was there to interview—”
“No. Sorry. I meant Jeremy. When we met, there was something strange about him. But then…I don’t know. We spent more time together, and I honestly felt like he cared. There was this vibe though, like he resented what he felt.”
As I listen, Miriam’s words hit several chords: jealousy, anger, bitterness. I may not understand our connection, but I would never use her like that.
“Well,” I say, “I am sorry, but Jeremy was not a good man. Not good at all, and if you and I want to survive the mess he helped create, then we will need to stick together.”
“Absolutely.” She straightens her spine. “I’m all in. What’s the game plan?”
Hold on. “Miriam, why aren’t you looking for the nearest rock to hide under?” Again, she seems to be taking this rather well.
“You honestly think that little of me, after I just let you—a vampire—bang me and fang me for three hours?”
Errr…okeydokey. “No?”
“Good. Because I am not some…some delicate little bookworm who’s going to cower in the self-help section. Whoever these horrible people—or ex-people—are, I’m not letting them mess with the world I love.”
“Wow. I do not think I could possibly be more turned on than I am right now.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes.”
“Good. Because I’m ready for more.” She flashes a greedy little grin.
Dear God. What is this woman made of? Carbon fiber steel? Kryptonite? “I must rest, Miriam. If I do not, I will become too hungry.”
“Then eat.” She tilts her head to the side and flashes a bit of yummy vein. “I don’t mind.”
“No.” I lean back. “Put that away. What I did to you before was…well, foreplay. When I’m hungry, it is not the same.”
“So, you’re saying you would kill me?”
“No. Never. But why wave a credit card in front of a shopaholic?”
“Michael, am I safe around you or not?” she asks.
I am tired of the lies and deceptions
, but more than anything, I need Miriam to trust me. “You are safe up to a point, but is that not the same for regular humans?”
“Huh?”
“Well, people have been known to eat other people in situations where they were starving.”
“Ewww.”
“Absolutely, but it is true.” I shrug.
“So, basically, you could decide to eat me if we were plane wrecked in the Himalayas?”
“No. Not even then. I would take my own life before I would ever allow myself to get that hungry.” I know she is now thinking about the time we were held captive by “the cult,” locked up together in a coffin. Long story short, the council wanted to see what we knew about the blood farm and decided a little torture was in order. I surmised we could be there for days or weeks, and I would grow hungry. I decided to end my life instead of allowing myself to harm her. I failed, of course.
“Okay. Let’s move,” she says. “Tell me what we need to do.”
“What do you mean, we?”
“I just told you; I’m not going to sit around, waiting for a bunch of immortal thugs to gang-rape the human race.”
I shirk. “It’s more of a mass enslavement, but either way, you are not equipped for this.”
She narrows her eyes. “Michael Vanderhorst, you might be a vampire, but I am still your boss, and I am not taking no for an answer. How can I help?”
I quickly explain how the council members have been taken and we must free them. The societies, all five hundred and eighty-two, still have leaders in place, but those leaders lack the seniority and clout to unite an entire region. Their jobs are to manage their territories and follow orders. Without our councils to enforce things, it’s going to be left up to me and the generals to lead.
Miriam’s eyes are wide with shock. “They took all of the council members?”
“Yes. However, Nice was with them and set free. I do not know why, but either way, I must decide how to rescue them.”
“Didn’t you say you’re some great general from a big war?”
The Librarian’s Vampire Assistant, Book 3 Page 10
