Roaring

by Katie May

  “It’s not you. It was just something Ms. Stevens said…” She rolls her eyes and offers me a tentative smile. “Actually, it doesn’t matter. This is our date, and I’m determined to have a damn good time.”

  “Do you want to dance?” I nod in the direction of writhing bodies, but one glance in Violet’s direction shows she has something else in mind.

  She leans forward, her movements almost cautious, as if she’s gauging my reaction, and presses her lips to mine. It’s a soft kiss—innocent, by normal standards—but licks of fire dance through my veins. I’m getting burned, but it’s so fucking worth it.

  “Frankie,” she murmurs against my lips as I return her kiss with vigor. Instead of chaste and sweet, it becomes feverish. Needy. Desperate. It’s as if we want to consume each other.

  I’ve never felt anything like this before.

  Her hand wraps around my wrist on her thigh, and at first, I think she’s trying to make me remove it. Instead, she glides it up the inside of her thigh until it reaches the thin material of her panties. My balls ache as I moan into her mouth.

  “Violet…?” I trail off, a question in that one word.

  “You can touch me. If you want.” She almost appears sheepish, embarrassed, and her cheeks are crimson. Hoping to put her at ease, I brush one finger down her panty line before moving the material to the side. From this angle, my body covers her from view, and I intended to keep it that way. No one is allowed to see her like this.

  I sheath one digit inside of her already wet pussy, basking in her moan of pleasure.

  “Fuck, Frankie!”

  “Do you like that?” I whisper, planting kisses up and down the column of her neck.

  “Yes.” It’s a cry and a plea combined. The message is clear—keep moving your finger.

  Without delay, I add another to the first and begin to rub them back and forth, collecting her juices. She mewls softly, clawing at my back as my thumb brushes her clit, the touch tantalizing.

  Violet suddenly freezes, her grip on my shoulders tightening, and I remove my hand from her pussy.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask instantly. Have I unintentionally hurt her? When she continues to stare at something over my shoulder, I follow the direction of her gaze to see none other than Dimitri Gray himself sitting at the bar, drink in hand. His eyes are fixed on Violet, despite Benji attempting to engage him in conversation. The thought of him watching her doesn’t bother me. If anything, it makes me feel even better. Dimitri is a scary motherfucker, and I know that he’ll protect her no matter what.

  “Shall we continue?” I whisper in Violet’s ear, and her breath hitches sharply.

  “In front of…?”

  “Only if you want to.”

  It’s her choice. It’ll always be her choice.

  With a sly, mischievous smile, Violet opens her legs, giving me a clear view of her wet thong and the outline of her pussy lips. I make quick work of sliding the panties off her legs and sticking them in my jacket pocket. Then, I position myself so I’m to the side of her instead of directly in front of her. This new angle still allows me to see her pussy folds…but it also allows Dimitri to see them too. And the other dancers, but most of them are too preoccupied with each other to pay attention to the booth in the corner. Besides, it’s secluded enough to only have a handful of people gathered in front of it, dancing to the thrumming music.

  Dimitri’s eyes widen comically as I gently caress her pussy. I don’t enter her—not yet—but continually move my finger up and down her lips. Her eyes close as she rolls her head back, lips parted slightly. Flicking my gaze to Dimitri, I slip two fingers into her wet heat and begin to scissor them.

  The headmaster’s pupils dilate, and his hand instinctively goes to his pants, palming himself through the material.

  “Fuck,” I hear Violet murmur, and I see that her gaze isn’t on me, but on Dimitri.

  “Do you like that, pretty girl?” I whisper in her ear. “Do you like me playing with your pussy as he watches? Do you like knowing anyone can look over at any time and see us?”

  She cries out, the noise nearly making me shoot my load, but I force myself to remain patient. This isn’t about me.

  I use my free hand to push down her dress straps until her tits pop free, nipples already beaded. I roll one between my fingers as I continue to thrust my fingers inside of her.

  “You’re so beautiful, Violet,” I whisper as I lean forward to kiss up her boob until I reach her peaked nipple. I outline it with my tongue before pulling it into my mouth. With a whimper, she tangles her fingers in my hair as I allow the bud to slip through my teeth. “So fucking beautiful.”

  I’ve never been overly interested in a woman’s breasts before, but hers? I could play with them all day. They’re quite easily a handful, and I find that I like touching them. When she moves, her tits jiggle, and I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

  I clamp down on her clit, and she comes with a scream I quickly capture with my lips.

  “Fucking hell,” she breathes, her words barely audible over the roaring music. She pulls back just enough to stare into my eyes. “And now…” Before I can stop her—not that I even want to—she unzips my pants and pulls out my rock-hard cock. It twitches in her hand as she rubs her thumb over the slit. With another smirk, she slides down to the floor, nipping and kissing at each inch of exposed flesh. She slides my pants even further down and runs her tongue along a raised vein down my inner thigh.

  “Violet,” I warn darkly as she continues to kiss and suckle at my skin, never touching me where I so desperately need her to.

  “Fine, fine, fine. I swear you guys are no fun.” She runs her tongue down the length of my cock before sucking the head fully in her mouth. Groaning, my eyelids droop closed at the onslaught of pleasure. Pure, indescribable pleasure.

  I watch Violet’s head bob up and down, sucking and licking as she goes. She hollows her cheeks as she feeds my cock even further into her mouth.

  “Fuck!” I squeeze the table, curbing the desperate need I have to fist my hand in her hair and fuck her mouth.

  She uses her hand to wrap around the part of my shaft her mouth can’t take. Her other hand teases and fondles my balls.

  Pleasure blooms inside of me, zipping through my veins with each and every swirl of her tongue and graze of her teeth. She stares up at me with wicked eyes and begins to increase her pace. I’m putty in her hands—hers to do with whatever she pleases. The feel of her throat constricting around me feels fucking amazing. I can only imagine what her pussy would feel like.

  I’m so close to coming—so fucking close—that when she presses down on my balls, skating that precarious edge between pleasure and pain, I explode inside of her mouth. Some of my cum dribbles down her chin, but for the most part, she drinks it all, bright eyes dancing.

  “Violet… Oh my fucking god.” I pull her towards me and kiss her feverishly, still able to taste myself on her glistening lips.

  “Do you think Headmaster Gray enjoyed the show?” she teases, turning towards the bar. I had completely forgotten about our little voyeur.

  But the bar stool Dimitri was sitting on is now vacant.

  CHAPTER 18

  DIMITRI

  Violet fucking Dracula.

  The bane of my existence.

  I squeeze the bathroom countertop so tightly, my knuckles turn white. My cock is so fucking hard that it’s almost painful.

  Why does she do this to me?

  How does she do this to me?

  “Can I give you a hand with that?” a coy voice says from behind me. Someone must’ve followed me into the bathroom.

  I lift my head marginally to meet the pair of bright green eyes staring back at me. She’s pretty, I suppose, with large tits clearly visible through her skin-tight shirt. Hourglass figure. Mane of curly orange hair. The old me would’ve fucked her against the grime-coated bathroom stall and then sent her on her merry way. The new me…

  I’m almost temp
ted to fuck her anyway, just to stop the incessant babbling in my head. It’s like there’s an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other, both demanding I listen to them. The devil wants me to forget about Violet, forget about her doe-like eyes and mischievous smirk. Forget about her peaked nipples as Frankie plucked them between his fingers. He wants me to fuck this red-headed woman until we’re both screaming our release, her too-large tits bouncing in my face.

  But the angel? He’s revolted. Instead of seeing a beautiful woman, he sees a complication that will stop us from getting what we so desperately desire.

  “Get the fuck out,” I hiss at the woman, and she scatters like her life depends on it. In all actuality, it probably does.

  Without bothering to lock the bathroom door, I pull my throbbing cock free from the confines of my pants. My eyes roll back into my head as I begin to stroke myself from base to tip. Violet’s hooded gaze flashes through my head. The lust emitting from her bright eyes. The sultry tilt to her lips.

  And her pussy glistening with the evidence of her arousal.

  I begin to stroke myself faster and faster as the image changes. Now, she’s leaned over Frankie, her cheeks hollowed as she sucks him. Her glorious breasts brush against his knees with each bob of her head, her nipples beaded diamonds.

  Just before I reach the impending explosion, I press down on my balls in the way I saw Violet do to Frankie. Pleasure courses through me, momentarily stealing the breath from my lungs. My vision turns hazy as I press my free hand to the sink to steady myself.

  Fucking hell.

  Fucking Violet.

  With a growl, I shove my dick back into my pants, not bothering to clean myself up. It’ll feel like a win for Violet if I do that—though I don’t understand my own logic.

  Believe it or not, I don’t stalk Violet all the time. I actually wasn’t at the club to see her.

  I have a job to do, and her fucking show almost caused me to fail at it.

  Heart hammering, I wash my hands, refusing to stare at my reflection in the mirror. The rumors are true about me and my family—the mirror shows the truth about our monsters, the truth about us. And the last thing I want to be reminded of is the darkness polluting my soul, distorting me into a monster completely unrecognizable.

  Fuck me.

  Fuck my monster.

  And fuck Violet Dracula.

  Only when I feel like myself again do I emerge from the bathroom.

  My eyes immediately want to latch on to the booth I had last seen Violet and Frankie at, but I will myself to look away. My control is tenuous at best, and I don’t trust myself around her. When I’m in Violet’s presence, I’m not Dimitri Gray the headmaster, Dimitri Gray the assassin, or Dimitri Gray the monster.

  I’m hers. And I hate it.

  Instead of entering the main dance floor, I turn towards the steep staircase leading to the upper levels. The second floor is for the VIP members only, but it’s the third and fourth floor that capture my interest. Only the true monsters party up there.

  I find my victim on the third floor, a cigarette in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other. An unfamiliar female sits at his feet, sucking his dick, and his four business associates spread out in a semi-circle around him, each with a female of their own. Fortunately for them, my client only hired me to take out Matthew Peder. He owns a winery a few miles away from here, but that’s only a front. According to my source, he also traffics females.

  Particularly, vampire females.

  Since I took the job at the Academy, I’ve been extremely selective over which cases I take. And since I met Violet, I haven’t taken any that would force me to leave the city.

  This man? This chupacabra?

  He’ll pay for all he has done.

  I remain in the shadows as I watch him converse with the other men. At one point, the female finishes her blowjob and moves to perch on the arm of his chair. When he begins to finger her pussy, I look away with annoyance.

  Finally, Matthew excuses himself from his companions to refill his glass. Using the shadows as coverage, I follow him to the purple-lit bar.

  “…take it for what it is,” a very drunk Matthew slurs to the impassive bartender. “And what it is, is a pain in my ass.” He guffaws as if he just told the most hilarious joke before taking the proffered bottle. Over his shoulder, the bartender—a man named Bernie—meets my gaze and dips his head slightly in acknowledgement. I have been around enough for Bernie to know not to question me. If there’s one thing monsters covet above all else, it’s self-preservation.

  Before Matthew can turn around, I grab his shoulder and tug him a short distance away, towards a mirror I had installed years ago.

  There are numerous purposes for mirrors. They show you your true self, the darkness you attempt to hide behind a teasing smile and a beautiful face. But they’re also a pathway, a portal, if you will. You just need to know how to use them.

  Matthew lets out a strangled cry, attempting to scream for his friends, but I have already pulled us both through the mirror.

  It’s a sickening sensation, like wading through knee-deep tar. It clings to my body and makes movement nearly impossible. Still, I trudge forward, darkness closing in on all sides of me like a steadily shrinking room. I have entered this realm enough times to know how to maneuver through it, how to contort it for my own gain. A moment later, a speckle of light breaks apart the monotony of darkness. I drag a whimpering Matthew towards that light and step through.

  We enter a sparsely furnished room with pure white walls and white tiled flooring. It’s caved inwards, leading towards a simple drain in the direct center of the room. There are no windows or doors; in every direction, all you can see is glossy white paint. A simple chair rests a few inches away from the drain, and a table sits opposite it.

  It’s the chair I lead a struggling Matthew to, shoving him down and using the installed cuffs to restrain him. Fat, ugly tears roll down his chubby cheeks as he stares up at me.

  “Please, I have a family. I have a wife and kid at home.”

  I just barely hold in my snort. According to my extensive research, his wife left him years ago after she found him balls deep in a hooker, and he has no kids. Hell, he doesn’t even have a pet.

  There are two things I hate more than anything in this world—crying and lying. And Matthew? He has just done both.

  “Please,” he sobs, violent tremors jerking his body forward. “Please. I need to get home to my family. Please. My wife…she’ll be lost without me. She loves me, and I love her. Haven’t you ever been in love before?”

  For the first time in the many years I have done this, I pause. My hand lingers over the second restraint. It lasts only a second—hell, a millisecond—but it’s enough for Matthew to notice.

  “What’s her name? Or his name? What if this was her you were doing this to? What if this—”

  I shove a gag into his mouth before he can say another word.

  Keeping my face blank, I move towards the table in his direct line of view, caressing each blade with a calculated tilt to my head. Shall I use the knife this time? The dagger? My contractor didn’t specify how he wanted the kill to go. He trusts my judgement. I suppose I should make it as quick as possible to get it over with and head back to the club.

  Though torture does sound enticing…

  Matthew spits out his gag and levels me with a fury-filled glare.

  “I’m going to find your whore and fuck her senseless. I’m going to wrap my hands around her neck and give it a twist until she’s nothing but a sack of meat. Then, I’m going to fuck her again while I make you watch.”

  Cold fury radiates through me as I move my attention away from the table to the man held hostage before me. Well, that settles it.

  The bastard is going to suffer for hours, maybe even days, until he’s screaming for death. No one can threaten Violet.

  With a cruel smirk, I grab a set of pliers from the table and take a step closer to him.

>   “Let’s play a game,” I say as I kneel down before him. The vitriol in his eyes is quickly replaced by terror. Good. He should be scared. He has unleashed a beast inside of me, a beast I hadn’t even realized existed. “My bet is I can make you beg for death in less than five minutes.” With quick fingers, I unzip his pants and grab his disgusting dick, holding my pliers just above it. “Prove me wrong.”

  CHAPTER 19

  VIOLET

  The music courses through me as I spin around in a circle before coming back to Frankie’s embrace. We sway together, our hips gyrating, as the DJ weaves together an intoxicating beat.

  Frankie keeps his hands firmly on my waist as we twist and turn—even when I move away, I know I’ll always come back to him.

  I wrap my arms around his neck and play with the curly hairs resting at his nape. His hair is smooth to the touch, almost unnaturally so, and slips through my fingers like silk.

  I never would’ve expected in a billion years that I would be able to touch Frankie like this without fear of repercussion. For the first few months I knew him, he’d been so reclusive and indifferent. I wasn’t even positive he liked me, let alone liked liked me. Being with him is as natural as breathing. I know that if I were to fall, he would always catch me.

  His words before penetrate the lust-filled fog in my mind. Could it be possible? Could I be mates to the others as well? A tiny voice in my head can’t deny the rightness of such a thing, but I shove that voice beneath the proverbial rug.

  No, it’s impossible. It’s nothing but a foolish fantasy. Every girl hopes to be loved and worshiped by a harem of sexy men, but the truth is much more bleak.

  You have to choose one.

  Isn’t that the way the world works? Two people fall in love, and it’s like an explosion of fireworks. You know inevitably that you were made to find this person, made to love them. There has never been a case of a mating bond with more than one person.

  What would it even mean? Would the guys have other female mates as well? I don’t know if I would be able to live with that, as selfish as it makes me. I want them all to myself. Just the thought of them with another woman has me seeing red.