His Captive Mortal

by Rose , Renee

  “Naughty little mortal.” Wrestling the dowel from me, he snatchs me up around the waist and carries me kicking and squirming into my living room. Another wall hanging--this time a quote by Marianne Williamson assuring me I’m powerful beyond measure--crashes to the floor. Another kick, and I take out my cute ladder bookcase. The complete works of Gabrielle Bernstein go flying. And for a second, the universe has my back because the vampire trips. But then he snarls--freakin’ terrifying!--and grabs me up again.

  Whelp, that’s that. I’m done for. I should’ve eaten a head of garlic instead of trying the stake thingy.

  He plops down on my second-hand sofa and, to my surprise, pulls me face down over his lap.

  “That was extremely rude,” he informs me in his uppercrust accent, slapping my upturned ass. I don’t hear the irritation in his voice... he’s already recovered to his cool, manicured tones.

  Rude?

  I almost giggle. I thought he was going to drain me, but instead, I’m getting a smack on the ass.

  Kinky vampire.

  “You agreed to be civil with me, and so you shall—or suffer the consequences.” He smacks me again. For a second, I get this crazy sense of déjà vu, like I’ve been here before. The whole scene—the vampire, my position over his lap—feels super familiar.

  And I lose my mind. I wiggle my ass for more, suddenly needy for a spanking.

  At the hands of a vampire no less.

  He complies, and the sense of déjà vu fades in the sudden sting from his palm. Something between a laugh and a sob bursts out of me. It’s mostly relief at not immediately becoming vamp-food. But then, he might be just getting his jollies before he bites into a vein. Not to go down without a fight, I flail against his hold, but his arm around my waist is like a steel band. Well, duh—vampires have superhuman strength. But does he sparkle in the sun?

  He begins to strike my butt harder, and I squirm. Most of the sting is muffled by my jeans.

  This is not how I imagined my night going. The thought makes me giggle out loud. The dam breaks, and my shock and stress rushes out in the form of sobbing laughs.

  He stops, and I try to get up, still laugh-sobbing. A little humiliated, a lot turned on. He hauls me up and holds my hips, peering into my eyes. His expression is impassive, but I think I see a glint of curiosity in his gaze that mirrors my own. Heat creeps through my core, running down my inner thighs all the way to the arches of my feet.

  Vampires and sex go together. And this fang boy is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

  The irritation’s gone from the immortal’s expression. His fangs receded. He looks like an ordinary man, albeit a stunningly handsome one. His lips twist in a smirk that’s all amused arrogance.

  “Pull down your pants, Tinkerbell,” he purrs a command.

  He must not have used his glamour, or whatever folklore calls vampire hypnosis, because I don’t feel the odd pulling sensation.

  My pussy clenches, but I’m not about to comply with his high-handed command. I clutch the waistband of my jeans.

  “No way!” My protest would be more convincing if I didn’t sound so out-of-breath.

  The corner of his lips lift. Slowly, slowly enough for me to stop him, he tugs my hands away. Again I get the sense of déjà vu. It hits me so strongly--the vampire’s face, his cheekbones sharp enough to split atoms, the curve of his fangs and cleft of his chin. I’m so lost in the feeling that I know him that I forget to fight.

  The vampire unbuttons my jeans and unzips them. My stomach unravels with the zipper. He’s so sexy I can’t draw air.

  Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of my jeans, he slips them down, taking my panties with them. My brain stutters to life, and I make a half-hearted move to catch them and stall out. My lady parts are bare, exposed to his satisfied gaze.

  The muscles in my pussy quiver. It occurs to me to hold my shirt down, trying to cover my bare cleft as I stand on trembling legs. Do I want this? Do I even have a choice? I probably should figure out how to get away from him—or how to protect myself instead of standing here like a virginal offering, but I’m too enthralled by the eroticism of the spanking and now his undressing of me. Not to mention the sense that I’ve done this before.

  What will the sexy, sadistic vampire do next?

  “Defiance will earn you extra punishment, my dear.” His smile is predatory.

  My belly flutters with excitement.

  He is the cat, and I am his mouse. Oh yes, run, my little Tinkerbell. I do so love a good chase.

  He’s playing with his food before he eats me. Or drinks me, as the case may be. Is it wrong that I hope he eats me first? It wouldn’t be such a bad way to go—ravished by a vampire.

  But he picks up my wooden dowel and tugs me back over his knee.

  Uh oh.

  One smack with the wooden stick, and I squeal. The makeshift cane leaves a line of fire. Next time Karen tries to give me a wall-hanging, I will toss it back in her face.

  I twist, trying to cover my naked butt with my hand, but the vampire catches my wrist and bends my arm behind my back. He thwaps the thin dowel down again.

  “Oh, fork!” I yelp and squeeze my eyes shut.

  The vampire pauses. “Fork?”

  “Um, yes,” I pant, grateful for the reprieve. “I try not to swear. I work with kids.”

  “Ahh,” he says and brings the dowel down again. The stake stings my bare flesh. I kick like a colt, and he chuckles.

  “Fork!” I scream again. “Stop it!”

  “Take your punishment, little mortal,” he says. “You earned it. There’s nothing you can do to stop it now. But if you cooperate, I might consider letting you come when it’s all over.”

  “Let me come?” Why is his dominance turning me on?

  “Your choice,” he says mildly, spanking a few more times.

  He flicks it at my upper thigh, and I can’t take it anymore. “All right! All right, vampire...I’m sorry.”

  “Ah.” He drops the dowel and rubs my bottom for a blissful moment before giving me three more spanks with his hand in quick succession. “Magic words. Say it like you mean it,” he purrs.

  “I—I’m sorry, vampire,” I cry out in a rush. “I’m sorry I tried to kill you with a stake. I won’t do it again, I promise.”

  He chuckles and gives me another spank. “I’m not sure I believe you. I came here simply wanting to talk, and you give me your poor imitation of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”

  “I didn’t mean to…”

  He slaps my ass again. “Please, vampire. I’m sorry.” I hold my breath, hoping he accepts it.

  “Not as contrite as I’d like, but I’ll accept.”

  He leans down and grabs the dowel again, breaking off the sharp tip of my makeshift stake. Then he snaps the length in half, dropping the pieces on the floor. “That’s probably the best you can give me for now,” he muses, running a cool hand over my bare cheeks, making other parts of me come alive. I grow slick between my legs, my breath stays short for new reasons.

  The vampire smells faintly like fancy cologne and something else--a rich, wild scent that reminds me of fresh air and cold stone.

  His fingers stray near my neediest parts, and I open my thighs.

  “No, no, Tinkerbell.” To my disappointment, he lifts me to stand and pulls up my jeans and panties. “You didn’t earn your reward tonight.” He guides me to sit on his lap.

  I squirm, my butt stingy and sore, my girly bits throbbing. My hardened nipples scrape the inside of my bra.

  If he doesn’t want sex, then… I cover my throat.

  “I didn’t come for that, either.”

  “Then why are you here?” I demand.

  “For your magic, my dear.”

  I am sitting on a vampire’s lap after he punished me like his naughty school girl, and now we’re talking about magic. This has to be a dream. Or maybe Karen used pot butter in those brownies she gave me, and I’m on a bad trip. “I don’t have any magic.”


  “Ah, but you do, and it is quite powerful. Your protection spell out there dazzled me, darling. I’ll need you to learn to use your skill because there’s a curse that needs undoing.”

  A curse? “I can’t help you. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I insist. Crap. What if he doesn’t believe me? How am I going to get out of this?

  He strokes a wisp of hair from my face, tucks it behind my ear. “I need your power, my little Tinkerbell. You may not even realize you have it, but you do, and I’m not going to leave you alone until you’ve solved my dilemma.”

  He’s going to kill me. I begin to blink rapidly, my chest moving wildly with shallow breaths.

  “Ah.” His expression softens. “There are the tears.”

  “I’m not crying!” I croak, but my insides crumple, and a choked sob erupts from my throat.

  “Shhhh, easy now. I don’t want to break you.”

  I cringe, but he pulls me against his chest. His delicious scent envelops me as he cradles my head against his neck and strokes my back like I’m a kitten. For a second, I’m almost comforted. Maybe this isn’t so bad.

  “Sweet,” he murmurs. “You smell so sweet, little mortal. Like strawberries.”

  Nope, he’s definitely a psycho who’s going to eat me. I wrestle against his embrace, but he holds me fast, not allowing me to pull away. I get the feeling he’s not even using a tenth of his strength to subdue my struggles.

  So I give up.

  “Ready to submit, Tinkerbell?” His handsome face is inches from mine. My thoughts fuzz over.

  “You’re a little old for Disney movies,” I blurt.

  “Pardon me?” he arches a brow but looks amused. Like I’m a kitten trying to tear him with tiny claws.

  I lick my lips. “The Tinkerbell references.”

  “Ah.” He doesn’t explain.

  And suddenly I’m giggling like a crazy person. “I can’t believe you spanked me.” I want to put my fingers between my legs and rub out my sexual frustrations. He definitely left me needy. If that’s part of his domination bit, it worked.

  He touches my lower lip, tracing it. “Yes, I’m a bit old-fashioned when it comes to ladies. I come from a different era.”

  I crack up again. “No, I mean, I tried to kill you with a wooden stake, and all you did was spank me.”

  “You were afraid when you went all vampire-slayer on me.” Now he’s thumbing the moisture from my cheeks. “I can’t really blame you for that, can I?”

  “How did you know I was afraid?”

  “I could scent it.” He leans in closer. “Just as I can scent the salt of your tears now and your need.”

  Need? And just like that, my clit throbs like a second heartbeat, insistent between my thighs. I press my legs together. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me.” I try to be brave, but my voice comes out a quaver.

  “I did. But if you cross me, I will punish you.” He strokes my cheek. He touches me like he has a right to. I’ve never been manhandled this way before, but something in his scent, his presence, his aura lulls me into complacency. I don’t just allow his touch, I crave it. “I do hope you’ll cooperate, my lovely mortal. It’d be a shame to truly frighten you.”

  Chapter 3

  Charles

  My lovely prey shivers in my arms. Her pulse jumps, pounding in her throat. My fangs throb and sharpen enough to cut the inside of my mouth. I bite down, letting the taste of my own blood calm my inner predator. My cock throbs beneath her delectable ass.

  She’s a vision, my captive mortal. Long, silky dark hair and golden skin. Dark eyes made unique by little flecks of gold. She’s terribly young and terribly beautiful. I noticed her even before she emitted the shining aura of a protection spell. My research told me the mortal I was looking for was here, in Tucson, but she drew me before I knew she was the one.

  She’s drawn to me as well. Even though she’s frightened, the scent of her arousal rises like musk around us. She liked being manhandled by me.

  I grip her jaw in one hand and bring her face to mine. “Just a taste,” I murmur, and she stiffens, hardening herself as if expecting me to bite. I brush my lips over her full, pouty ones, and she relaxes. “Your lips... not your blood,” I clarify, even though she’s already caught on. She tastes as sweet as I imagined. I slide my lips over hers again, and she moves hers against mine, giving me a hint of tongue.

  Her taste is fizzy and light on my tongue, intoxicating as champagne. And I haven’t even sipped her blood yet. Her scent is crazy-making.

  I have to force myself to pull away, the throbbing of my cock too painful.

  And even though she knows better, she boldly meets my gaze. “What era are you from?” So adorably curious, despite her trepidation.

  “I was turned in 1825.”

  “Turned to vampire?”

  I nod. I typically don’t tell personal details, but I can’t help myself.

  A tiny shudder runs through her, but she continues to stare at me. She reaches out and touches my jaw, sending a tiny shock of electricity through me.

  I catch her little hand and turn it over, my gaze inexorably drawn to the blue vein in her wrist. She notices and snatches her hand back, holding it against her chest as she eyes me warily.

  “I’m not going to drain you, and I won’t turn you, but I do require your full cooperation.” I put a finger under her chin. “Can you give that to me, Aurelia?”

  She lifts her chin. “What happens if I say no?”

  I smile wide enough to show fang. “Nobody tells a vampire no. You’re my captive now. You’ll win your freedom when you’ve figured out how to rid me of my curse.”

  * * *

  Aurelia

  “I told you—I don’t have any magic.” My voice comes out a little quavery. My nana told me to trust my instincts, that there was more to me than meets the eye. But...magic? Little ole me, have magical powers? Is that what she meant?

  The vampire gives me a look. We both know he saw my magic bubble aura thingy, whatever it is.

  I gulp. “If I do, I don’t know how to control it. I’m not a witch.”

  “No you’re not,” he agrees, tipping my face this way and that. “But you’re not entirely human, little mortal. You’re something special. Something more.”

  “Like what?”

  “Take a guess, Tinkerbell.” He emphasizes the Disney character’s name. The fairy in Peter Pan.

  Fairy. I blink. “You think I’m a fairy?”

  “I believe the proper term is fae.” He shifts me on his lap, just enough to remind me my butt still stings. Receiving a spanking by a vampire is surreal enough. Now I’m supposed to do magic for him? Get rid of a curse? And if I don’t do something I have no idea how to do, he won’t let me go. No pressure. I suck in a breath before I pass out.

  “What makes you think I’m a fairy? Wouldn’t I have had, like, fairy parents? Or something like that?”

  His lips twist into a sexy smile. “Yes. But I have yet to meet a fairy like that. My research has uncovered certain mortals who carry traces of fairy blood.”

  “Research? What sort of research? Is there some sort of paranormal 23andme?”

  His chuckle is sexy enough to unravel my panties. “Something like that. I’ve been searching a long time. I’ve found that, in some, the fae shows up stronger than others.”

  “And you think that’s what I have? Fae blood?”

  “Yes.” He lifts me off my lap. “And that makes you perfect for my purposes.”

  “What makes you think I’d want to help you, even if I could?”

  He tilts his head to the side. His dark hair falls over his brow, framing his glittering black eyes. “My dear, what makes you think you have a choice?” He gives me a toothy smile. “I’m your master now, little one. Satisfy me, and I’ll reward you. Disappoint me, and there will be consequences.” His gaze is heated, like the idea of delivering more consequences turns him on.

  My nipples tighten to diamond points.


  “Do you need me to punish you again to remind you I am your master?”

  Yes. My pussy clenches. “No.”

  “Then I propose a partnership. But first, a test of obedience.” He studies me so long, I shift from foot to foot. “Something simple…I know.” He raises his finger and snaps before pointing to the kitchen. “Make me a snack.”

  Seriously? What is this, the 1950s? And why am I so turned on?

  Confusion makes me snappish. “Why don’t you make your own snack?”

  He pulls me back down on his lap and tugs my head back by my hair. His fangs slash out, and there’s no humanity in his expression as he stares at my exposed neck. “Shall I?” he rasps.

  I make an incoherent sound, somewhere between a groan and a whimper.

  He lowers his head until his hair brushes my face, and he touches his long fangs to my carotid artery. “Shall I choose my own snack, little fairy? Or will you make me something from your kitchen?” Underneath my butt, his dick is long and hard. I don’t know why I’m so aware of it, but I am.

  “I’ll make it,” I choke out.

  He releases my hair and helps me stand. “Such a gracious hostess. Thank you.” His British accent is the height of condescension.

  I stagger towards my kitchen. “I didn’t think vampires ate food,” I say in a quavering voice, falling flat in an attempt to sound unaffected.

  “We don’t have to,” he says. He follows me, hands in his pockets, and leans against the doorway in a sexy pose. “But we can. I certainly prefer blood.”

  I shudder.

  “Aurelia…” The lilting way he purrs my name is almost musical. “If you behave yourself and do what I ask, I won’t ever hurt you.”

  Not reassuring. Like hurting me would be the norm for vampire behavior.

  “You already spanked me,” I mutter.

  “And you laughed. You liked it, and I didn’t even allow you to come afterward.”

  I shut my mouth. I’m not going to dignify that with a response.

  I open my fridge and glance inside. What does one feed an unwelcome vampire? Will he notice if I spike a snack with garlic?