by Chris Lange
Regarding vampires, she really did have a healing power. So why did they believe her a deadly threat to their race? Why did their legend mention her as a Bringer of Death? Whoever came up with that myth must have been loaded, stuffed full with human blood. Did they use drugs over there? Could their prophecy writer have been hallucinating at the time?
Liv smiled at her reflection in the window. Making fun of vampires felt good right now—a pity she must get a move on. The sun had already dipped to the west, tree shadows lengthened across the parking lot, shoppers left the mall. Time to hide from bloody creatures of the night. Time to get ready for whatever fate had in store for her.
She bought a new pair of jeans, a skirt, tops, shoes, underwear, and a toiletries bag inside the mall. While she was there she asked for directions to the nearest clean motel. She must have put too much emphasis on the word ‘clean’ because the young shop assistant at the till nodded vigorously. Better he looked at her in a funny way than facing another monster rodent.
She saw the motel in question, a mile down the road. Night had fallen anyway and she wouldn’t have missed the blinking, flashy red and yellow lights indicating the entrance. From the outside the building looked recent. Indoors it matched her expectations.
Fresh linen on the bed, immaculate towels, polished furniture—the room even smelt flowery. And once she had switched all the lights on to dispel the darkness—oh goody, the age of miracles isn’t past—no bugs crawling on the nightstand, no beady-eyed rats about to pounce on her.
The bathroom featured a white, spotless sink, white tiles on the walls, and an oblong-shaped hairdryer. After she had brushed her teeth, Liv felt compelled to check her canines. They looked like they always had, and felt no sharper. Then she stripped before stepping into the shower. Temperature as hot as she could take it, she let invigorating water glide down her body.
Enjoying this soothing feeling she wondered about her next step. Rogan had been certain he’d find her anywhere. He had told her to stay put and wait for him. As she hadn’t come up with a better plan that was exactly what she’d do. Work worried her, though. She’d call in sick first thing tomorrow morning. Mondays were usually busy at the office, but they’d do fine without her.
Turning the water off, Liv stepped out of the shower, marvelling at the fact that she hadn’t appreciated the beneficial effects of a good shower in a long time—of simply taking time to take care of herself. One should definitely pay more attention to mundane comforts.
She dried off before wrapping herself up in a bath towel. Holding the hairdryer like a gun she let warm air blow away the last remnants of her night in that dingy, sordid motel. She experienced a wonderful sensation of cleanliness as if she had got over the weird, incredible events of the past two days. Once fresh and dry, she walked out of the bathroom.
“I thought you’d never come out of there!”
Chapter Fourteen
Heart pumping several delicious beats at the reassuring sound of his voice, she ran into his open arms.
“Rogan!”
She felt the hard bulge in his jeans when he hugged her tightly. Desire instantly stung her whole body, halting her breathing, pushing her to stare into his golden eyes. She saw the same desire there, saw that he would take her before anything else.
Amazed at the force of the attraction drawing her to Rogan, Liv rose on tiptoes to kiss him. After all she had been through, the sight of his full lips almost felt too much to bear. She needed his mouth crushing hers. She had to have his tongue caressing and suckling hers.
But, before she could reach that tantalising mouth, he let go of her and took a step back. Startled, she listened to the harsh rhythm of her own breathing, felt the hungry moistness leaking between her legs.
Looking at her neckline he pulled hard on the towel, and flung it away. A brief light glittered in his gaze as he watched her naked limbs. Under his intense scrutiny a tinge of heat inflamed her cheeks, only to burn stronger when he touched her breasts.
He tweaked her nipples and she sighed, his abrupt stroke discharging jolts of pleasure throughout her body. Her pulse quickening at his unexpected brusqueness, she let his name pass her lips.
“Rogan.”
He didn’t let her say more. He grabbed her hips, turned her round, and pushed her onto the bed. She landed on all fours, her skin puckered with the same violent desire he had for her.
No foreplay this time. Not a single moment devoted to tenderness because he was about to take her like an animal. Yes. Oh, dear God, yes. Knees and hands bearing her weight and position, mind ablaze with urgency, she imagined what he must be seeing.
The length of her back stiff with anticipation, the fullness of her ass, the split between her buttocks exposed to his hungry gaze, the wetness coming out of her. As if the thought acted like a trigger, a new rush of desire streaked her stomach and she crumpled the bed sheet in her fingers.
She faced the opposite wall and heard the unmistakable sound of a zip, felt the coarse texture of his jeans against her thighs. Would he take his pants off or just drop them down like a man unable to stall his sexual urges? Tilting her head to catch a glimpse of him, his imperious order halted her.
“Don’t move!”
His harsh injunction increased her lust. She thought her blood was jumping out of her veins. She thought her sex was stretching towards his, reaching for his vampire maleness. She didn’t move. Mouth dry, she had to close her eyes to refrain from moaning.
“You’re so exciting.”
She didn’t move, but she bit her lower lip, keeping a cry inside. He raked his nails on the fullness of her buttocks. A whimper escaped her, and she jerked forward.
“I said don’t move!”
Her breasts felt heavy enough to bring her down, her belly streaked with want. His tip touched her slit, swiftly baring her wet hole. She forced herself to keep still, her instincts screaming with longing. Because she faced the bedroom wall, she pictured Rogan’s hand around his cock, aiming, splitting her inner lips open to grant himself passage.
He gripped her thighs. His strong fingers kneading her flesh, he embedded his dick into her. Her uncontrolled wail seemed to jar his deepest instincts. As harsh as a creature of the night devoid of human emotions, he pounded her. The louder she moaned the harder he penetrated her. Each of his vigorous, persistent thrusts felt like a bar of pleasure driving her towards ecstasy.
He wasn’t making any noise, yet she knew he was loving it. She felt it in her bones. His hands tensed around her thighs from the enjoyment he was giving her and taking out of her. He had wanted her in this carnal position. He had felt the domineering need to possess her like a wolf in heat.
His bestial instincts had taken over. His repeated hits took her breath away, prompting her to lower her head onto the bedspread. She raised her buttocks, and he grunted. She opened up to him completely, and he implanted his cock in her even deeper.
Her sharp cry of unruly satisfaction seemed to let off the true vampire in him. Grasping her hips, yanking her back with every strike of his dick, he banged her time and time again. Her insides on fire, her mind reduced to a bottomless void of pleasure, she bit into the bedspread to stifle the shrieks welling up in her.
He was bringing her to climax so hard she thought she might lose a piece of her humanity. She didn’t feel like a woman anymore, but like an untamed bitch mating for life, a savage she-wolf submitting to the power of the leader of the pack. And she loved it.
She loved the wild vampiric instincts she had brought out in him, the rough pressure of his fingers latched on her waist, the hammering of his engorged cock digging into her.
Somehow she needed what he craved. Once more she forgot all about his poisonous fangs capable of turning her into a vampire. Nothing felt real but the urge to be marked as his, the desperate pull to come while he broke her skin and drank her vital substance. Flipping her hair to the side, she raised her head and bared her neck for him.
“Bite me. Now!”
Totally attuned to her, he bent over to slide his fingers under her shoulders. Still buried in her, he drew her up. Her back pressed against his chest, she began to pant and sob when he cupped her breasts and his thrusts became short and rapid.
She wanted to feel his sharp teeth on her skin. She wanted to feel the biting pain where his fangs pierced her flesh. She couldn’t. As she sensed his mouth coming down on her neck, a gigantic orgasm rocked her out of reality. She came furiously, registering from far away his own grunts of pleasure, and the violent tremors shaking his body.
Deprived of strength, breathless, Liv sank onto the bed. Rogan let her slide before flipping a side of the bedspread over her naked body. Although she already missed his hands on her, she felt complete. He had so fully satisfied her she wondered how such a magnificent sensation could be real. Lids half-closed, she relished this unforgettable moment.
Then a brief noise confirmed their wild lovemaking had been no dream, a zipping sound terminating an unbelievable experience. In a way, she could have cried from joy.
As she turned her head towards where Rogan stood, a light jab reminded her she had been bitten for the second time. She sat up to touch the soft spot on the side of her neck. Two pearls of blood showed on her finger when she looked at it. She licked the bright red liquid, her blood, her vital link to the vampire-man looming over her.
She glanced up to meet his eyes, still focused on her neck. The intensity of his gaze made her shiver, annihilating any sensation of wellbeing. Suddenly she felt cold, and wrapped the bedspread tighter around her body. Rogan opened his mouth to speak, but a knock on the door halted him. Whatever he had been about to say turned into some kind of irritated bark.
“What?”
As the door opened, Liv wondered if Rogan had been expecting someone. Had he found some help? Of course not—help never came when needed. On the other hand, she had trouble picturing Rogan asking for room service. He was more the break-and-enter type. So, when Khord came into the bedroom, she felt completely at a loss.
No, no, no, not now! Not him!
Adrenaline awakening all her senses, strangled with fear, Liv braced herself for the inevitable fight to come. Except that Rogan remained motionless while Khord stepped up to him, a look of reverence stiffening his ugly features. He stopped just short of Rogan, and bowed to him while holding out a black shape she couldn’t quite make out.
Holy mackerel, what was going on here? Had they both been brainwashed in the past twelve hours? Had she inexplicably fallen into the fourth dimension? Unable to figure out the weird scene she witnessed, Liv gaped at Rogan. For a second, it felt like observing a total stranger. Or someone she might have come across in the street, but not let him touch her. Mind blank, guts twisted with dread, all she could do was whisper his name.
“Rogan…”
He slowly turned his handsome face towards her. So slowly her heart missed a beat. His sudden sneer made her blood race, causing her to tighten the bedspread around her shoulders.
Feeling trapped like a frightened mouse, she couldn’t help but goggle at the malice in his eyes, seeming to take a wicked pleasure in her obvious confusion. Then his mouth puckered, and her disarray turned to downright fear as he uttered three ghastly words.
“Guess again, baby!”
Chapter Fifteen
What the hell did he mean by that? Why was he looking at her with such a mocking, satisfied grin? Surely he’d reach down in a second, swoop her in his arms and tell her to wake up. It was just a bad dream, an awful, gut-wrenching nightmare and everything would be all right.
But he didn’t. Instead he stretched his lips into a scorn, and his hurtful words shattered her soul.
“Oh, my, aren’t you a delightful piece of meat.”
Her legs weighed a ton. Inner spasms twitched her nerve endings. Her stomach dropped down, at the same time trying to push her last meal back up. She swallowed to bring the fries and sandwiches under control, yet the horrible sensation didn’t fade. And when Khord sniggered loudly her cheeks and forehead began to burn.
Naked. Helpless on a bed. Trapped in a motel room with two ferocious vampires, one of whom hated her. The other… Well, the other had just made love to her and was now treating her like a cow he had milked. To top it all, the brute’s idiotic snigger grated on her nerves.
“Enough!”
Rogan’s order shut him up immediately. Before Liv’s astonished gaze, Khord went down on one knee, head bowed.
“Forgive me, my king.”
“Wait for me outside.”
Dismissed, the brute stood up. Without a single glance at her, he strode out of the room. Liv stared at the closed door, realising they were alone. She was incapable of looking at Rogan.
“Get dressed.”
In a way, his command should’ve been considered good news. If this Rogan-thing wanted her dressed, he had no intention of killing her right now. Yet she was so aware of his towering presence, so tied to the intimacy they had shared that she felt unable to move.
Did he perceive her shock? Did he sense she wasn’t a computer to process data at lightning speed? Whatever the case, he walked to the table where she had left her recent purchases, rummaged through the bigger bag, and threw a bunch of clothes onto the bed.
“There. Now, get dressed.”
This vampire wouldn’t tolerate denial. In spite of her total dismay, Liv could see he was used to being obeyed. Although she looked at him long and hard, her mind only told her the vampire in front of her was Rogan. Same face, same golden-freckled eyes, same voice.
Had he been human she might have figured he had a twin brother, but vampires had no kin. Fully aware of the big risk she was about to take, she called him by the name she wanted to be true.
“Rogan.”
This time, his look of genuine surprise didn’t reassure her in the least. When he spoke, the full power of his words hit her.
“I thought you’d have been smarter. How long is it going to take you to understand? I am not Rogan.”
“Well, who are you then?”
“My name is Raskhan. I’m the king of the Overworld.”
Shit, oh shit. What was she supposed to do with that? Nothing yet. He snapped his fingers towards the foot of the bed where her clothes lay. Yes, he wanted her to get dressed, she got that!
“Where’s Rogan?”
“Precisely where he should be.”
Bedspread tight around her shoulders, Liv crept forward on her butt to sit on the edge. Collecting her stuff she stood up. Only then did she realise the cover clinging to her skin was attached to the bottom corners of the bed—firmly attached.
Either she let it drop or she made a run for the bathroom. In both cases he’d see her naked. The prospect of him eyeing her bare body had lost any appeal, so she tried to voice her demand in a firm voice.
“Would you mind?”
With a half-smile he had been watching her making a fool of herself. As she spoke he crossed his arms over his chest, clearly showing his refusal to avert his gaze. Although he knew her body inside and out, it was obvious he had no intention of missing a free striptease show.
“I would.”
Right. No luck there. Let’s try something else. She would not run to the bathroom. She would not give him the satisfaction of feeling ashamed. In a manner Liv hoped was queenly, she’d slowly walk to the bathroom. Holding her clothes with one hand, she let go of the bedspread. Without glancing at the spitting image of Rogan she took a step forward. Then a second, a third, her back so straight she could have passed for an automaton.
As she extended her hand to seize the handle, a weight in her back forced her to flatten against the door. Startled, she dropped her clothes, her hands instinctively rushing up to cushion the impact. Left cheek pressed hard against the door, cold wood grazing her nipples and belly, legs slightly open to keep her balance, the zip of his jeans moulded into her lower back, she dared not utter a single sound, dared not attempt a single move.<
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“Watch your steps, little girl. If you misbehave, I intend to make you pay for it.”
Although Liv wasn’t sure what he was referring to, she recognised the ring of truth in his tone. Fear felt like a lifelong companion by now, but to her utter disbelief something else ran far stronger in her veins.
How could her body betray her so? How could she feel aroused by a barbarian pinning her to a door? Yet she did, her stomach curling with temptation, her heart pulsing with desire. Restraint foremost in her mind, determined to conceal her emotion, Liv played along with him.
“And if I behave?”
He touched the sides of her breasts. With a lazy downward motion, he caressed her ribs, her hips, her thighs. Eyes squeezed shut, she mustered all her self-control to refrain from shivering. When his mouth brushed against her ear, she almost gasped.
“I might keep you for myself.”
Arrogant and conceited, that was what he was! If watching Khord act like a slave around him hadn’t convinced her, this simple sentence did. King or not, he was nothing like Rogan.
“What makes you think I want to be yours?”
“You already are.”
He knew. Although full of himself and insensitive he had perceived her lust for him. But she’d rather pass for an idiot than admit it. Besides he deserved to be put in his place.
“You’re wrong!”
“Am I? Really?”
Moving back, he gave her an inch to breathe easier. The pressure of his jeans on her back vanished, but he seized her neck with one hand to keep her face pressed to the cool door.
“Come on, little girl, tell me you don’t crave my cock. Say it, I want to hear you say it!”
“I don’t…”
He trapped the words in her throat with his finger. Tracing a line down the small of her back, he slid it between her buttocks. Already reaching her opening, he wove his way home to glide into her wetness.
Taken aback, Liv let out a deep sigh. Nipples erect and rubbing against the door, she closed her eyes to focus on a way to stop him, to cool the heatwave demanding possession of her body. Very close to her ear, harsh and obnoxious, Raskhan provoked her.