Sexual Appetites of Vampires

by Donna Fletcher

  His hand slipped down over her backside and squeezed her firm cheek while easing her closer against his erection. He was so hard and thick that she could feel him pulsating against her or was that her own throbbing she felt? She didn’t know. She didn’t know where her passion stopped and his started. It was as if they were one, linked together in a sensual bond.

  She rubbed herself against him, needing to feel more of him, needing to get closer, needing him inside her.

  He tore his mouth away from hers and she moaned in disappointment.

  “I’m going to make you come, Lara,” he whispered in a low growl near her ear.

  “Yes. Yes,” she said, hearing the anxious plea in her strained voice.

  He turned her around so quickly that she grew dizzy. He planted her back firmly against his chest and his left arm slipped across her chest to rest under her breasts. His right hand drifted down along her stomach and slipped with ease into her leggings.

  “You’re going to come hard, Lara, very hard. I won’t have it any other way,” he commanded with a strong whisper in her ear.

  She cried out as his fingers began to tease her clitoris. She dropped her head back on his shoulder as he robbed her of breath and sanity. He stroked all the right places, inching her ever closer to climax.

  Her body never felt more alive. It was as if places awoke in her that she had never known existed.

  “Spread your legs,” he ordered and she obeyed, helpless to do anything else, though not caring.

  She felt safe in his arms or was it only an illusion?

  If he wasn’t holding her, she would have crumpled to the ground from the pure pleasure he brought her when his fingers drove into her.

  “Come, Lara, come for me,” he whispered in her ear, and then she felt sharp teeth scrape her neck.

  She exploded in such a hard climax that she latched onto his arm that lay across her chest and squeezed tightly as wave after wave of extreme pleasure rippled through her. When she thought it done, he flicked his finger over her clitoris and she climaxed again. Something she had never done before.

  Now wake up, Lara. Wake up! I will not make love to you unless you are fully awake!

  Lara bolted awake in the chair in the library, her body still humming from her intense climaxes.

  “A dream? It was a dream?” Her hand went quickly to her neck, but felt only her soft, unmarred skin. She shook her head. It couldn’t be. It was so real, so very real. She shuddered as the last of her climax faded away replaced by disappointment. She had had sexual dreams before, but never so intense... so real.

  It was her own fault. She and Michael’s major topic of conversation had been about sex, so what had she expected? Especially with anything close to an intimate escapade having been non-existent in her life for some time now. Was it any wonder she should fall into a dream about sex with a vampire? But she hadn’t had sex with him; he had brought her to climax.

  She scrunched her brow, trying to recall what he had last said to her.

  I will not make love to you unless you are fully awake!

  She hugged herself and near jumped out of the chair when she realized that her bra was undone. She shook her head again. It made no sense, but then nothing had made sense, since she had entered this house and met Michael Valaine.

  Lara dropped back in the chair and yanked the throw draped over the back across her. Not that she was cold, more so as a shield of protection, a poor shield at that. But at the moment she needed something even a weak something.

  How did she make sense of what happened? Had her own desires produced the dream? Was it a dream or had it actually happened?

  “Lara.”

  She jumped, her head snapping to the side to see Michael standing in the open doorway.

  “I thought perhaps you might want to wash up before supper, which I thought we would have in about an hour.”

  Lara turned, having recalled seeing a clock on the mantel. She was shocked to see that it was almost six in the evening.

  She nodded, though for a moment thought about questioning him about her dream. But what if it hadn’t been a dream? What if it somehow had been real? What if he had called her to him, made her want him? Made her have the best orgasm she had ever had so far.

  So far? Did she expect to have more orgasms with him?

  Had she gone completely insane? Of course she had, there was no other explanation.

  She gave herself a moment before attempting to get to her feet, not trusting her legs, recalling how they had gone weak while in his arms.

  His arms.

  They had felt so strong around her, and she had felt so protected, like a warrior of old who would do anything to protect the woman he loved.

  Loved?

  Love had nothing to do with this and, besides, was a vampire even capable of love?

  “There is something on your mind.”

  With a suddenness that startled her, she realized that... “It wasn’t a dream, was it?” she said as if demanding he clarify it.

  “You came to me,” he said, stepping further into the room.

  “Because you called me,” she corrected.

  “No, I did not call you. I thought of you, wanted you, but I never called out to you. You came to me of your own volition.”

  Lara got to her feet quickly, keeping the blanket against her chest, as if the pathetic excuse for a shield would somehow protect her.

  “You can’t deny that you want me, Lara.”

  “Do I or have you placed the thought in my head?”

  “I don’t manipulate women. I have no need to. I told you... fully awake and also fully willing are the only ways I will make love to you.”

  She couldn’t help but ask, “Do vampires love?”

  “Vampires love more strongly than any human. Our heightened senses don’t allow us to love any other way. And I wouldn’t want it any other way. The intensity of such strong love feeds a vampire almost as much as the blood we drink.”

  “Love and blood, a strange combination.”

  “Yet both life-sustaining.”

  He had stepped closer and her shield was useless, her body sparking. How could that be after she just had two orgasms? Yet here she was ready for more. She never remembered feeling so full of lust.

  He stepped away from her, going to the cabinet and pouring himself a glass of wine. “You should go refresh yourself and join me here when you’re ready.”

  Lara dropped the throw on the chair and scooped up the books she had been reading and hugged them to her chest. She wanted them for later, but now she wanted them to hide her untethered breasts. Untethered breasts? What did she think? She was in a romance novel and that love would prevail against all odds and there’d be a happy ending to this unbelievable tale? She’d probably wind up bitten by a vampire while having sex with him—she shook her head at the absurdity of her thoughts and hurried out of the library and upstairs to her room. She locked the door behind her, though the lock served no real purpose. If Michael wished to enter, he would.

  She dropped down on the bed after placing the books on the nightstand.

  “Rational thought here, Lara,” she cautioned and turned on her back to stare at the cream-colored ceiling.

  “Only if you’re fully awake and fully willing,” she whispered. Those had been his words when it came to making love to her. He had not forced himself on her nor had he bitten her. Her hand went to her neck and her body gave a little shiver, recalling the scrape of his fangs against her skin. She sighed and draped her arm over her eyes. One minute he was scaring the bejesus out of her and the next he was sending her into explosive orgasms.

  And the next... She lowered her arm, her eyes remaining fixated on the ceiling. There was that warrior-of-old necessity in him to protect. Even if she wasn’t the woman he loved, he still protected her—even from herself, so it seemed.

  Had she really sensed his desires and hunted them down? She laughed. She was like a vampire herself, though it wasn’t bl
ood that drove her, it was sex. She laughed again. She had gone from dormant to raging hormones with one look at Michael. But then a woman would have to be dead not to respond to him. Or would she be dead if she did?

  Lara popped up off the bed. “Enough. Enough,” she scolded herself. “Take a nice, hot shower and don’t dare think.”

  She went through her suitcase and chose black leggings and a black sweater shot through with silver threads. It was oversized; loose, and comfy. Forget tight and sexy, it would only get her in trouble. But wasn’t she already in trouble?

  She carted them off to the bathroom along with her case of toiletries. After setting everything down on the sizeable vanity, she turned on the shower, then stripped out of her clothes. She gave herself a close perusal in the mirror.

  “Average. You’re average,” she said to her image, as if reminding herself of something. “And he’s not.”

  As if that settled things for her—at least for the moment—she stepped into the shower, shutting the door behind her.

  She wanted to sigh with pleasure as the hot water beat down on her. She let the pulsating water soak her hair as well as her body. She twisted and turned so that the pelting water could reach every nook and cranny. It was like a gentle massage and she turned her back to the water and bent at her waist so that her backside was treated to the soothing caress.

  That’s when Michael popped into her mind. For a moment, she thought of him there, his hands squeezing her wet backside before he stepped closer and rubbed himself against her.

  Stop!

  She straightened up in a flash. Was that her who warned or had it been Michael?

  “Don’t think. Don’t think,” she scolded herself.

  Don’t think!

  She gasped. That wasn’t her.

  Scrub yourself and be done, she silently warned herself and shook her head. She had to stop thinking or at least focus on something benign.

  Snow. Think about snow; swirling snowflakes, mounds of snow, stinging cold.

  Like Michael’s touch. She shivered at the thought, though the hot water pelted her skin.

  “Think of something hot,” she admonished in a whisper.

  Michael was a hot hunk.

  Lara dropped her head back and moaned. What was the matter with her that she couldn’t stop thinking about him? Sex. It all came down to sex. Did she or didn’t she? She obviously wanted to since she had called out and gone to him in her dream. So what stopped her? Why not have a snowbound fling with a vampire? He certainly didn’t seem an evil creature, though his fangs could argue that point. But they had felt so... she shivered with pleasure, recalling how sensuous his sharp teeth had felt against her neck.

  She realized the danger of such thoughts and ordered, “Wash and get dressed before—”

  The lights suddenly shut off, pitching Lara into complete darkness.

  Chapter 7

  Lara froze under the hot spray, goose bumps eating away at her wet skin like tiny, famished bugs. Was it the storm or had someone turned out the lights? Someone? There was only Michael.

  What to do? She couldn’t see a thing.

  She slammed her hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp when she caught the sound of movement in the room. Michael was here in the bathroom with her. Had he shut off the light? Had her thoughts inadvertently called him to her again?

  She shivered at the thought or was it anticipation that had her body quivering?

  “Don’t be frightened; I’m here, Lara.”

  “Where?” she demanded remaining under the spray, his voice too clear to be in her head, which meant...

  “In the room with you,” he said, finishing her thought.

  “Why?”

  “The generator to this part of the house shut down. It will kick on again, but not for an hour or so. I didn’t want you to be frightened.”

  “A little late, I’m already frightened,” she admitted.

  “Of the dark or me?”

  “You in the dark with a stark naked me in the shower.” She cringed, realizing she had just put a vivid image of her in his head, not that it wasn’t probably already there.

  “Is that an invitation?”

  Part of her wanted to scream yes, come join me, but she forced herself to say, “No.”

  “Your thoughts not only tell me differently, but so does your body. I can feel the quiver of passion stirring in you. I can hear the soft hum of your sensitive nub waiting to be touched and smell the intoxicating scent of the wetness that grows between your legs.” He laughed. “Tightening your legs will not keep me from touching you, though I would much prefer to explore your unique taste with my tongue.”

  Her legs buckled and she spread her arms out, one hand bracing against the wall and the other the shower stall glass door to keep herself from collapsing.

  “And then there’s that squeezable backside of yours. How I would love to give it some loving bites.”

  A shot of passion stung between her legs and ran up to torment her clitoris. Damn, if his blatant suggestions weren’t affecting her almost as much as his touch.

  “Stop, Michael,” she said with little resolve.

  “Let me taste you. Let my tongue bring you to climax... more than once.”

  She tried to combat the pulsating throb between her legs with another squeeze, but damn if it didn’t do more harm than good.

  “Let me taste you, Lara. Lose yourself to me if only for a short while. Let me give you a climax you won’t forget.”

  Yes! Yes! Her mind cried, but she kept her lips locked tight.

  She gasped when his hands suddenly circled her waist.

  “Your thoughts are as clear to me as your words, or did you forget?”

  She opened her mouth to what? Deny it? Deny him when she wanted him so badly? It didn’t matter. He didn’t give her a chance to protest. His mouth found hers and he kissed her as if laying claim to her, as if searing her lips and branding them his.

  He drew her up against him as his kiss deepened, and she reveled in the feel of his naked body, all hard, defined muscle. Curiosity shot with desire had her hand reaching down and taking hold of the hard, thick length of him... velvety smooth, rigid, and so tempting.

  She caught her breath when his lips suddenly left hers.

  His hand wrapped around hers and held it still. “Not yet, Lara, not until I make you mine.”

  He lowered his mouth to her neck and nibbled his way down it, along her chest, to catch one of her already hard nipples in his mouth.

  It was a good thing his one hand hugged her waist and the other steadied her back, since her body went completely limp.

  She almost sighed with regret when his mouth left her breasts to travel down along her stomach. His hands moved along with his tongue, grabbing hold of her backside.

  “Brace yourself,” he ordered just before his tongue flicked across her nub that had been crying out impatiently for him.

  Her arms shot out to her sides, one hand slamming against the wall and the other the glass shower door.

  She never knew a tongue could be so sexually lethal. Good Lord, the man knew what he was doing and she damn well wanted him to keep doing it. She dropped her head back and groaned louder with ever lick and flicker and whatever else he was doing to make her feel like she had never felt before.

  His hands gripped her backside harder and drew her closer to his face, as if he was burying himself in her and oh how she wanted him to burrow himself there. She startled when he drove his finger into her, though his one hand held her backside firm, not letting her move.

  Hot. She was so damn hot and suddenly the water shut off.

  “Spread your legs,” he said and she did, not giving a damn about the water.

  She lost all sense of time and reason as Michael brought her to the edge of orgasm, drifted her back again, and then plunged her into a mind-blowing orgasm that had her screaming out, begging him not to stop, and he didn’t. Twice he had her climaxing and with the second climax she
had realized what she had been missing all this time and tears sprang to her eyes, ever so grateful that she finally got to experience a thunderous orgasm.

  And damn, it had to be with a vampire.

  She was in his arms before she knew what was happening, snug against his chest.

  “Don’t cry. Your tears burn my soul.”

  “You don’t have a soul,” she said sniffling.

  “Another misconception. Besides how could I love if I didn’t have a soul?” He stepped out of the shower.

  “Don’t put me down. I like being in your arms.”

  He pressed his brow to hers. “And I like having you there. But you need to get dry; you’re wet.”

  “I’m always wet around you.” She heard the surrender in her voice, but then what was she to do, fight what she had no heart to fight against?

  “I know,” he whispered and nuzzled at her ear.

  “Can I keep nothing from you?”

  “Definitely not when it comes to making love and also tears, especially when tears accompany sex.”

  “They’re not sad tears.”

  “I know, but it still hurts me when you cry. To know that you have found no pleasure in something that should be most pleasurable disturbs me, though it also pleases me to know that I am the first man who has ever satisfied you.”

  “Satisfy is an understatement,” she said with a laugh.

  He lowered her to her feet, and she unlocked her arms around his neck with reluctance.

  “I wish I could see you,” she said, the darkness making everything seem surreal, but then everything had been surreal since she had walked into this house.

  “Raise your arms,” he said and she did without question.

  She felt a towel slip around her, and he tucked the edge just above her one breast. He then took her hand and led her out of the bathroom to the bedroom where the light of the flickering fire in the fireplace cast a soft glow over the room... over them.

  He wore a towel wrapped around his slim hips and his dark hair glistened, still damp from the shower.

  “You are beautiful, especially in the throes of climax.”