His Captive Mortal

by Rose , Renee

  Stupid. Why am I acting like a mated vampire who will only take blood from his lover? Aurelia will never consent to let me feed from her.

  Still, I end up tracing back to her apartment and crawling into bed beside her, staring at the golden glow of her skin in the lamplight. I brush her thick hair away from her face, studying her sleeping form. She has a heart-shaped face, with high cheekbones and a small nose. Delicate but not fragile. Beautiful in a healthy, outdoorsy way.

  Her brows furrow, and her legs twitch like she is running. A nightmare, perhaps. She lets out a whimpering cry, and I can’t stand it any longer. I pull her into my arms without thinking.

  “Shh, love. It’s just a dream,” I murmur.

  She stirs, her eyes blinking open. “Charlie,” she sighs, still half asleep. “I’m glad you’re here. You’re always here when I need you.” Her eyes close again, and her breathing deepens.

  What was that about? No use asking. I doubt she’ll remember any of it in the morning. Even though she sleeps peacefully now, I don’t release her, reluctant to put any distance between our bodies. Her soft form nestles so sweetly against mine, her champagne smell soothing. Her presence makes my spirit lighter. Fae are special creatures, but this is all Aurelia.

  With my Tinkerbell nestled in my arms, I drift off to sleep. But instead of dreaming of my sweet mortal, I find myself on the narrow shadowy streets of Paris, on errand for Anka. The scent of blood rises off my clothes. I’ve just killed a man, drained him, and now I’m returning to my lover’s bordello for a reward.

  One second, I’m in a stinking alley, then next, I’m in a lush and perfumed bedchamber. I carry the scent of the dead man’s blood—but Anka won’t mind. She loves the stench of death.

  “Sweet vampire,” Anka says, stroking my face. “I can always count on you, can’t I?” She lets down her thick hair, the dark mass falling from the curls pinned on the crown of her head. She allows her robe to drop, displaying her magnificent body, clad only in a corset and stockings.

  I growl and flash to my knees before her, releasing the garters and peeling down the silk. She runs her fingers through my hair, guiding my mouth to her sex. “I save it only for you,” she tells me. Even in the dream, I hear the lie. But I pretend not to.

  I pleasure her to climax then lift her to stand with my mouth still at her cunt. Carrying her to the bed, I lay her down, free my cock and plunge into her warmth. I stroke deep into her pussy as my fangs seek her neck.

  “Charlie,” she moans. She’s writhing, wild. Her hands are claws, tearing at my body.

  “Charlie...Charlie! Char-lie!”

  The golden scent slaps me in the face. I open my eyes to find Aurelia struggling beneath me, screaming in terror. My fangs are at her neck, and she is pushing my face away with the heel of her hand. The gyrations of her hips aren’t sexual but panicked.

  I jerk back, lifting my weight onto my hands and blinking my eyes into focus.

  “Oh thank God,” she cries, nearly in tears. She pushes at my shoulders, trying to scramble out from under me.

  My cock is thick and hard, but I’m still clothed. My hips hover over hers. I’d been grinding against her, about to take her vein.

  “Aurelia,” I mutter, shaking my head.

  Damn. I scared the hell out of her after vowing not to bite her without permission. I shouldn’t be sleeping next to a mortal when so blood-starved.

  “Who is Anka?” she demands. Is that a trace of jealousy in her voice? The thought cheers him.

  “She’s the witch who cursed me,” I say.

  “Oh.” She studies me. I enjoy being the subject of her scrutiny, her chocolate and gold eyes so full of intelligence and light.

  “I’m sorry I scared you,” I murmur.

  “You were really going to bite me,” she sighs. “I couldn’t wake you up. What if you drained me before you knew it?”

  “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Do what? Bite me or drain me?”

  “Drain you.” My head pounds even though all the blood in my body has rushed to my cock. “As for biting, I promise, you would enjoy it.”

  Her scent flares up. My fangs sharpen enough to cut the inside of my mouth. I’m helpless against her, my hips nudging forward to grind my cock against her mound. Before she can start to wrestle, I lower my body to pin hers, my hips rolling against hers. I can feel the peaked tips of her nipples even through our layers of clothing.

  My mouth finds her ear. “I can’t help it if I find you irresistible while I sleep. You just feel so...delicious.” My tongue traces the silken edge of her ear.

  Her pelvis tilts to meet mine, and she starts to pant, even as she grips my shoulders, trying to push me off.

  “I just want to taste you. I’ll make it feel good, I promise,” I purr, running the tips of my fangs lightly across her skin.

  “No.” She pushes with real effort.

  “Shh. There’s nothing to be afraid of, sweet Aurelia. It’s just a little prick and then orgasmic ecstasy. I won’t take too much blood, and I’ll hardly leave a mark. It heals within a couple days.”

  Her struggles slow, but she refuses to look at me, turning her head to the side. “Please,” she whimpers. “Please let me up.” A tear slides out of the corner of her eye, traveling across her nose.

  Pain squeezes my unbeating heart. Another surprise—her genuine distress bothers me. I roll off immediately and help her to sit, lifting her to her feet beside the bed.

  “Thank you,” she mutters, looking down, obviously trying to hide her watering eyes. When she lifts her gaze, she looks so vulnerable my heart twists once more. “May I please go outside?”

  I love the way she asks, as if she’s finally admitting I run the show. I rise off the bed and reach for her, cupping her face and tilting it up to catch her eyes. I change the hypnotic suggestion, probing deep into her mind. When I’m done, she may only open the door during daylight if she’s made certain I’m safe first.

  I break our connection reluctantly. She sways in my hold, and I stroke my thumbs over her cheekbones.

  “Did you undo it?”

  I nod. “What time is it?”

  “Quarter til seven.” Almost dawn.

  “Be back by dusk.”

  To my shock, she stands on her tiptoes and gives me a peck on the lips. “Thank you.”

  Once she’s gone, I sink back into the bed, letting lethargy roll over me. Her scent rises from the pillow. I still feel the press of her lips on mine. My fingers twitch, but I refuse to touch the place she kissed.

  * * *

  Aurelia

  I seriously need to masturbate again. Why didn’t I let the vampire go to town on me? I was freaked out beyond belief at first, but having one hundred eighty pounds of muscled vampire grinding over me flipped my switch pretty quickly. And the way he murmured in my ear...

  I climb into the shower and lean my forehead against the wall, pressing my fingers over my sex.

  Charlie is a conundrum. My captor—and I think he likes it that way. He could do anything he wants to me. He can out-power me if he likes it that way or hypnotize me if he wants me willing, but he’s done neither. The moment he saw my tears, he released me.

  I’m not even sure what made me cry. Probably just the need to let go after the terror of thinking he would drain me. But he made sense—the way he’d been going after me hadn’t been angry or violent—it was sexual. So presumably that meant he wouldn’t have killed me.

  Forking vampires. So confusing. Too bad he didn’t order textbooks on vampires when he sent for the magic ones.

  I continue to work my fingers over my clit, remembering the feel of his hardened bulge between my legs, the tickle of his fangs at my neck. I trigger a short, unsatisfying orgasm and have to sit down on the edge of the tub, dizzy from the hot water and the blood rushing...away from my head.

  I’m not as shy this time walking into my room dressed only in the towel. Charlie’s fallen back into a deep sleep, judging from the sounds
of his breathing. I study him, and a wave of déjà vu comes over me, as if I’ve seen him in my bed a hundred times before. As if I’ve known him forever but had just forgotten until now.

  Weird.

  After dressing and gobbling down some breakfast, I head to the door. My hand hesitates before touching the knob, but there’s no weird push on my thoughts to keep me from going outside. Charlie lifted the compulsion.

  I grab a floppy hat and my gardening gloves. I double check that my bedroom door is closed completely and return to the door, opening it just enough to slip outside.

  Outside smells so delicious. I breathe in the dawn and let the familiar peace I always feel when I’m out in nature settle around me. Even in winter, I crave the smell of the earth, the feel of the plants between my fingers.

  My orange tree has dozens of fragrant blossoms, and the winter greens have grown bush-like. I pull weeds and cut some of the kale ready for harvest.

  After an hour or two, my neighbor, Karen, comes outside to sit on her porch, lighting up a cigarette. We often passed time this way, having become friends since she moved in.

  “What’s with the boarded up windows?” Karen asks, blowing out a column of blue grey smoke.

  “Oh. Um...I just got a little nervous about security. You know, being on the ground floor and all.”

  “Yeah,” Karen says. “Seems like I saw a guy hanging around your door, but now I can’t quite remember...Are you having trouble with someone? Like an ex?”

  “Yeah, kind of. I guess so,” I say, trying to think up a story..

  “Well, what’s the deal?”

  “Um. You remember Wilson, my ex-boyfriend?” I go with Karen’s suggestion.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, he’s been bugging me lately, and I just don’t want him showing up…” I trail off. This is the lamest story ever.

  “Didn’t he break up with you?”

  I blow hair out of my face. “Well, no. He was cheating. Or—he refused to commit. He wanted an ‘open relationship’. I wasn’t into it.” I should’ve made something else up. I don’t like talking about Wilson. He was a pathetic excuse for a boyfriend, and now, comparing him with Charlie’s powerful presence, he seems downright remedial as a human being.

  “Wait, so why do you think he’s going to try to break into your house?”

  Fork, I am the world’s worst liar. Good thing I’m not a spy or undercover. “He forgot his….uh, lava lamp.”

  Karen stubs out her cigarette. “Riiiiight,” she drawls. She’s not buying it. “I’ll keep my eyes open and let you know if I see him around, okay?”

  “He’s mad because I’m dating someone new,” I blurt.

  Karen’s eyebrows flash upwards. “Ooh, really?”

  “Uh huh. His name is Charlie. You might have seen him around—dark hair, dresses well.” Hot body. Long fangs. Sexy as hell. I squeeze my thighs together, feeling the phantom pressing of his bulge between my legs.

  “Oh yeah? That’s awesome. Stop by and introduce him sometime, okay?” Karen says, rising.

  Suuuuuure.

  I work until my arms ache and my head is clear. I clean up and, on a whim, cook breakfast for dinner. It’s almost dusk

  I glance at my watch. Two hours passed, and it’s almost five. I brush off the dirt and go to the door, hesitating before I open it. What if he’s already woken and is sitting in the kitchen? He’d be killed. No wonder he hypnotized me the day before, his very life’s at stake. No pun intended.

  Lifting my fist, I knock on the door and press my ear to the wood to listen for movement. Good thing Karen isn’t still outside, or I would really look crazy.

  “Wait.” I hear Charlie call out.

  Thank God for my foresight.

  “Count to ten first and then open,” he says from the other side of the door.

  I follow his instructions and open the door cautiously, shutting and locking it behind me. “All clear,” I call out.

  My bedroom door opens and...damn. My vampire looks sexy walking toward me in nothing but his jeans, his naked torso spectacular, hair still rumpled from sleep.

  “Thanks for the breakfast, love.” He grasps my nape and stoops to kiss the top of my head as he passes by.

  I stand rooted to the spot. Why does he make my heart beat so erratically? “Which did you eat?” I manage to ask after a moment.

  “Both,” he grins, sitting down at the table where both plates are in front of him. He takes a bite of pancake. “And I love this whipped cream,” he says, his mouth full.

  I have a skin-flick fantasy moment, imagining him smearing my body with it and licking it off. But no, with him, it would be more whips and chains.

  “You’re staring at me,” he says in his sexy British accent, without turning to look.

  “What are we doing today, Master?”

  He turns, his lips stretching into a broad smile, teeth gleaming. “You’ve finally accepted me as your one true god.”

  I don’t mean to grin like an idiot, but I’ve felt all warm and gushy toward him, ever since our interlude this morning. The compassion he showed when I lost it and teared up proved it was all a game to him. He may actually expect me to remove the curse, but he wouldn’t hurt me And he wants me. And now that I know he won’t take my life, I find the vampire irresistible. It’s not like me to fall hard for a guy—in fact, I never have before. But this one...he does something undeniable to me, turning my insides to hot liquid with a single flick of his eyebrow. I’d have to work hard to keep up the resistance toward him, or he’d have me crawling on my knees for him without any pride at all.

  To that order, I ball a napkin and hurl it at him.

  He catches it easily, his hand moving so fast I miss the motion. “That’s another thing...I require tidier surroundings.”

  I look around. My place isn’t dirty, but I have a fair amount of clutter lying on coffee tables and counters. “I can’t cook, clean and study to do magic. Maybe you could try doing something useful during all those night hours when I’m asleep.”

  He throws the napkin back at me, hitting me in the face. The sound of the doorbell makes him dematerialize, and this time I see it happen. Like he pixelated out, breaking into millions of tiny atoms before they vanished. He reappears in the doorway to my bedroom, where he shuts the door.

  I answer the bell to find the mailman has left a bundle too big to fit in my mailbox. The books! I bend to pick up the package and letters and shut the door.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” I call.

  Charlie materializes directly behind me, one hand cupping my breast and the other between my legs. He pulls me against him as I scream and try to leap away. “Did your package come?”

  I jerk at the feel of his firm fingers against my sensitive cleft, pleasure running down my inner thighs and making them tremble. But I’m not about to let him know how badly I want it. “Get away from me, vampire,” I cry, wrestling free and staggering back, feigning indignation as my pussy thrums, hungry for more.

  * * *

  Charlie

  The scent of Aurelia’s arousal fills the room. She may want to pretend she doesn’t want it, but we both know the truth.

  I love flustering her, watching color splash across her cheeks, the way her eyes flash. She’s adorable.

  I choose to ignore her snit. “Open it.” I lift my chin toward the package.

  She seems happy to change focus, eagerly picking up the box and carrying it to the kitchen, where she slices it open with a knife. “Wait…” She holds up a plastic bag containing a black corset/panty set and package of thigh-high stockings. “What are these?”

  I smirk. “I happen to be fond of old-fashioned underwear.”

  She throws me a condemning look. “I hope these are for you to wear.”

  I make a show of sweeping my gaze up and down her tight little body. “They’re for me, but I won’t be wearing them. But don’t worry—I won’t force,” I promise, making my tone smooth like honey.
“You’ll put them on because you want to please me.”

  She tosses them at me. “Fat chance!”

  I catch the hurled items and open the bag containing the corset, holding it up in her direction with a critical eye.

  “Stop it.”

  I love seeing her blush. I blur to stand behind her, trailing my fingertips lightly across her shoulder. “Come, Tinkerbell, you know you want to try them on.”

  Heat comes off her in waves, a heady sensation on my cool skin. My fangs elongate, and I have to close my eyes, willing myself to think of something besides tying her up and making her come until she weeps.

  Instead of pulling away, she turns to face me, inching closer, as if magnetically pulled to my body. She lifts her face. I can hardly deny what she’s asking for. I wrap my hand around the back of her head and kiss her, my lips twisting over hers, my tongue licking into her mouth.

  I catch myself before moaning her name, desire mounting at the taste of her, the sensuous pleasure of contact. I reach for the hem of her shirt and slowly pull it up. She lets me for a moment but seems to remember herself and flinches away.

  “Stop,” she says, breathless. “I...I’m not ready for that.”

  I don’t remind her I already saw her magnificent tits yesterday. She’s right to stop me—what the hell am I attempting? Do I think tumbling her will alleviate my unquenchable lust? It would only make it worse, and then I’d be blood-starved and blue-balled, which would equal one extremely crabby vampire. And we have real work to do here.

  I pick her up by the waist and carry her to a chair at the kitchen table, plunking her down and shoving the box of books at her. “Get busy learning magic, little fairy.”

  She tips the box and peers inside. Pulling a suede flogger out of the box, she looks at it critically.

  “Ah yes, that one is for me. To use on you, of course.”