Vampires in America: The Vignettes, Volume 1

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Vampires in America: The Vignettes, Volume 1 Page 8

by D. B. Reynolds


  Raphael snarled as the coppery taste of Cyn’s blood flavored their kiss. He’d missed her—the sound of her voice, the touch of her hand … her scent, her taste. He wanted to lick every inch of her, he wanted to bite and taste, and fuck her until she was too weak to climb out of bed. And then he wanted to start all over again. And he would, but first … he twisted open the front clasp of her pretty holiday bra, baring her breasts to his hungry gaze. Circling her waist with his hands, he lifted her to his mouth and sucked one full globe into his mouth, pulling hard enough that he drew the entire tip of her breast into his mouth, lavishing attention on it until her lovely nipple was plump as a cherry and bursting with blood.

  He growled and let his fangs emerge again, rubbing the dull backs of them against her breast, feeling the soft flesh give beneath the pressure, then changing the motion to scrape gently downward, not drawing blood, not yet. Cyn groaned in frustration and arched her back, thrusting her breasts out eagerly as her fingers twisted in his hair, trying to pull him closer. Raphael swirled his tongue around her engorged nipple, so swollen, he could feel her blood pulsing beneath the surface, begging to be released. Cyn made a hungry little noise in the back of her throat. His cock twitched at the sound and he bit down suddenly, savoring the hot rush of blood, hearing the rumble of pleasure from his own chest.

  He laved her now swollen nipple, kissing it wetly before switching to her other breast and starting all over again. She had the most beautiful breasts, full and heavy, with dusky rose nipples that begged to be suckled. Cyn was rocking against him now, the V of her legs cradling his erection where it strained against the thick cloth of his jeans. She cried out when he bit her other nipple, her knees tightening to either side of him, her fingers clenching against his scalp.

  “Raphael,” she pleaded softly. He could feel the heat of her sex, could smell the delicious fragrance of her arousal.

  And this chair, big as it was, was never going to be suitable.

  Licking away the hurt of her swollen nipple, he kissed it fondly, then gathered Cyn into his arms and stood. He would have preferred their private quarters downstairs, but this suite would do. His people knew Cyn slept here sometimes when he was gone, and they knew he was home. No one would dare interrupt them.

  He strode across the sitting room and into the bedroom. The bed was unmade, sheets and blankets tossed in testimony to Cyn’s restless attempts to sleep without him. He felt a measure of satisfaction that she hadn’t slept any better than he had, his daylight rest filled with images of Cyn and home.

  He tossed Cyn onto the bed.

  “I want you naked.”

  Cyn laughed and slipped off her sweater. The bra, barely hanging on her shoulders, she pulled off and tossed across the room. Raphael watched her with one eye as he stripped out of his clothes. She hooked her thumbs into her yoga-style pants and shoved them to the floor along with a bit of black lace that he assumed had been the matching panties to her pretty bra. Raphael hummed in appreciation, tossing his jacket to the floor and ripping off his shirt. He sat on the edge of the bed to remove his boots, then threw them across the room in his haste to be inside Cyn. He had his fingers in the waistband of his jeans and was about to stand, when Cyn wrapped her arms around him from behind, her hands dropping over his shoulders so her fingers could stroke his chest, toying with his flat nipples.

  She crowded close to him, pressing those perfect breasts into his naked back, her nipples like velvety, warm pebbles against his skin. The moist warmth of her satin smooth mound rubbed against his lower back and he hissed, reaching around behind himself to cup a hand over her ass, slipping his fingers into the slick heat between her legs.

  Cyn gasped, and her arms loosened enough for him to twist out of her grasp and stand up. He shoved his jeans down and stepped out of them in the same motion, then turned and eyed Cyn. She sat back on the bed, arms braced behind her, her thighs spread, one leg bent at the knee and tipping sideways back and forth in a taunting rhythm, giving him flashes of her pretty, pink pussy.

  “Cyn,” he rumbled in warning.

  “Raphael?” she responded, eyes wide with feigned innocence.

  He grinned, and saw her throat move in a worried gulp. His grin widened.

  And then he was on her, one knee hitting the bed as he spread her legs and wedged his hips between her thighs. Cyn cried out in surprise, falling back onto the bed, her arms coming up to hold him as lowered his weight onto her long lovely body, as his impossibly hard cock brushed against the burning V between her legs. He flexed his hips casually, enjoying the glide of his cock against her increasingly slick opening.

  “Raphael,” she panted, eyes closed in concentration as she lifted her hips, thrusting against him as she tried to maneuver his cock into her ready sex.

  “Look at me, lubimaya,” he demanded. Her eyes flashed open, hazy green with lust as she met his gaze. Raphael lifted his hips, positioned his cock at her entrance and drove into her with his full length, feeling her inner walls tremble as they stretched to accommodate his thickness, feeling Cyn shudder with pleasure as she gripped his shoulders.

  He began fucking her, long sure strokes in and out. Cyn’s tight sheath turned soft and slick as it welcomed him, the silky skin of her thighs brushing his sides as she crossed her legs behind his back, her hips lifting off the bed to meet him, deepening every thrust.

  Cyn’s cries filled the room, her nails digging into his shoulders, raking down his back as the first spasms rippled over her abdomen. Her inner muscles responded, jerking erratically as her climax began to build, her breasts swelling against his chest, her nipples furled into hard nubs. Her sheath tightened around him suddenly, grasping his cock until it was difficult to move, until he had to force his way through the tight grip of her muscles as he drove himself in and out, reveling in the smooth heat of her body, in the slap of his balls against her ass. The first orgasm rolled over her without warning, arching her back as her pussy squeezed him like a warm, wet vise, pulsing around his shaft.

  Raphael felt the weight of his balls, the heated pressure of his own release as it built higher and higher. He snarled at the demand in that pressure, wanting to keep pounding into Cyn until she was limp beneath him. But the invitation of her body, and the demands of his, were too much to deny. He leaned forward, nuzzling his face into the fragrant warmth of her neck, hearing her cry of relief as her hand came up to cup the back of his head. He waited until he felt the first rush of his orgasm, and then he sank his fangs into her vein, savoring the pop of the thin membrane, the heated rush of her blood as it flowed hot as sin and satiny smooth down his throat.

  Cyn screamed as her orgasm rocketed through her body, as every muscle tensed at once, her pussy clamping down on his cock, trapping him as his own climax flooded her womb, marking her as his as surely as his bite.

  Raphael collapsed on top of Cyn as he licked her neck desultorily, savoring the salty taste of her sweaty skin as he made certain the small wound was sealed. Cyn was stroking her hands up and down his back, shivering every once in a while in the final throes of her climax. Raphael lifted his head, touching his mouth to her kiss-swollen lips, licking her bottom lip where she’d bitten it … or perhaps he’d been the one biting.

  He brushed a lock of dark hair from her eyes as they opened and she smiled up at him, her gaze filled with such love that it terrified him sometimes. If he ever lost her, he’d be lost himself.

  “I have Christmas presents for you, lubimaya, but they’re on my jet in Colorado.”

  Cyn stretched up and kissed his lips softly. “Silly vampire,” she said, running her fingers over his brow and down to cup his cheek. “All I want for Christmas is you.”

  THE END

  VAMPIRE VIGNETTE #8

  YOU BELONG TO ME

  Washington, D.C.

  “I want to go.” Emma fastened the clasp on her bra and reached for her jeans.

  Duncan stopped what he was doing, and regarded her from across the room. “Emma,” he sa
id with forced patience, “It’s not safe. We don’t know anything about this place—”

  “It’s a blood house, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “That means humans go there all the time, there’s no reason—” She squeaked in surprise as Duncan was suddenly looming right on top of her, having used his vampire super speed to dash across the room. She hated when he did that. It wasn’t fair.

  “Emma, darlin’.” Duncan’s eyes were rimmed in bronze, never a good sign. He was standing so close she could feel his power like a simmering heat just under his skin. “You are not just any human. You are my mate and a target for anyone who wants to hurt me.”

  Emma didn’t retreat. She dropped her jeans to the floor and closed the last inch of space between them, pushing right up against his big body, which wasn’t exactly a hardship. He had a lovely body, all hard muscle and broad shoulders. She met his gaze and saw his eyes soften with awareness of her. His arm snaked out to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer still, until her breasts were crushed against that wonderful chest.

  He bent to nuzzle her neck, licking and sucking his way up to her ear. She shivered as every inch of her responded, wanting more, lots more.

  “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you, Emmaline,” he whispered, the words a seductive brush of air against her skin.

  “Duncan,” she said breathlessly. “This isn’t—” She groaned as his big hands gripped her butt, lifting her just high enough that his obvious erection slipped into the notch between her thighs. He pushed her back, trapping her against the wall, and began thrusting lightly, teasingly.

  “Isn’t what?” he murmured, lifting his head enough to touch his mouth to hers, his tongue gliding along the crease of her lips until they parted, inviting him inside. He kissed her then, a slow, thorough claiming of a kiss that made her heart pound, and had her thinking of nothing but chaining him to their bed for the rest of the night. Which was probably exactly what he’d hoped to achieve. Sneaky vampire.

  “It’s not going to work,” she muttered.

  “What’s not?” he asked, pretending not to understand.

  “You’re not going to sex me out of wanting to go with you tonight.”

  “Well,” he said, starting to pull away from her. “If you’d rather not—”

  “Don’t you dare!” she snarled and jumped up, knowing he’d catch her as she wrapped her legs around his narrow hips. She fisted her fingers in his shirt. “You started this, vampire, now you’re gonna’ finish it.”

  She slammed her mouth against his, biting his lower lip. Duncan only chuckled and squeezed her ass cheeks appreciatively.

  “You’re such a little carnivore,” he murmured against her mouth. “Who would have thought?”

  “Yeah, yeah. You love it.”

  “I do, indeed. Let’s get rid of this.” He slipped a finger under the strap of her thong and snapped it as easily as he would a thread. The fabric fell away from her hip and his hand followed, shoving the small satin triangle away from her pussy and replacing it with his fingers.

  Duncan’s chest vibrated against hers as he growled in pleasure, the sound hardening Emma’s nipples behind the satin covering of her bra.

  “Slick and hot, Emmaline,” he grated. “Always so ready for me.”

  Emma made a little noise of protest as his fingers suddenly retreated, leaving her empty. But then she felt his hand move between them to open the snap on his denims. “Yes!” she hissed, as she heard the rasp of his zipper. He lifted her higher and then he was inside her, flattening her against the wall as he filled her with a single, long thrust. He held still for the space of a breath, as Emma’s quivering inner muscles stretched to surround his thickness. She tightened her legs around his hips, and he began to move, a steady in and out, fucking her slowly, completely, while his strong hands gripped her ass, squeezing and releasing in the same rhythm.

  Emma threaded her fingers through his long hair, tugging gently until his head came up and their eyes met. His were glowing, a banked bronze fire that made her heart swell in her chest. How could she love him so much in such a short period of time?

  “I love you, Duncan,” she whispered, then kissed him, gliding her tongue into his mouth, savoring the unique taste of Duncan, the feel of his tongue dancing with hers, the hard, porcelain smoothness of his fangs. She curled her tongue around and between their sharp points, intentionally nicking herself, and she smiled against his mouth as her blood began to flow.

  Duncan snarled as Emma’s blood trickled down his throat. Sucking her tongue, he demanded more. Even that small taste of her blood was the sweetest honey, as silky as her tight little pussy, and just as hot. He began to pump harder, burying himself between her legs, slamming her against the wall. Emma cried out, her fingers twisting in his hair as she held him close, her legs clamped wantonly around his waist. She looked so prim and proper when she went off to meetings on the Hill, with her tidy hairdo and demure blouses, her proper suits and sensible pumps. One would never guess what a wild little thing she was in bed, a vicious lover, hungry and bloodthirsty.

  But no one but him would ever know that. He tightened his hold on her ass. She was his and no other’s. No other male, human or vampire, would touch her, not if they valued their lives.

  Emma’s cry of pleasure came hard on the first tremor of her orgasm as it rippled along his shaft. Her channel tightened, contracting like a hot, wet glove, holding and releasing him in rhythm as her body urged him to give up his seed. He kept fucking her, grinding himself against her clit with every thrust, until she was screaming in climax, his name the only sound on her lips. He lowered his mouth to her neck, feeling the soft resistance of her velvet skin, the pop of her vein as his fangs punctured her jugular and he began to feed. His own release began to build then, a relentless demand that tightened his balls and hardened his cock, until it boiled out of him, a pleasure like no other, splashing against Emma’s womb, marking her inside and out as his.

  Emma’s head fell forward onto Duncan’s broad shoulder as she gasped for breath. Every time, she thought to herself. Every time they made love it was the same incredible experience. She hadn’t exactly played around sexually before she met Duncan, but she was hardly a virgin either. She’d had boyfriends, and lovers, too. But it was hard to remember any of them now that she had Duncan. It was as if everything up until their meeting had just been … waiting.

  Duncan’s weight was fully against her, his hands still gripping her butt, her legs still tight around his hips. He turned his head to meet her eyes, giving her the sweetest, most angelic smile. Oh, he was clever, all right. Downright diabolical. But it wasn’t going to work. She smiled back at him.

  “You want to take a shower with me before we leave?” she asked with feigned innocence. His eyes narrowed and she laughed. “I told you it wouldn’t work,” she said smugly.

  Duncan raised one eyebrow and began flexing that tight ass of his, moving his rapidly hardening cock inside her once again.

  Emma purred. “If you want to stay here all night, persuading me, I won’t argue, sweet thing. It’s a tough job, but I’m up for it. Of course, you should probably let Miguel know that—”

  “Evil woman,” Duncan said. He slapped her ass smartly, then eased her down to stand in front of him, still holding her trapped between him and the wall as he gave her a no-nonsense look.

  “Very well,” he agreed. “You may accompany us this evening. But,” he added firmly, “you will shower first. I’ll not have you walking into a blood house smelling of sex. And, Emma, you will obey me tonight without question. We’ve never been to this establishment and don’t know what to expect. There’ve been no reports of violence and no complaints that we can find. But it’s a bar, and not in the best neighborhood either. You’ve never been to a blood house before—” He stopped mid-sentence and scowled down at her. “Have you?”

  Emma patted his firm chest. “Never,” she assured him. “No one’s tasted my
blood, but you, beautiful. Relax.”

  “I’d relax better if you’d stay home like a sensible woman,” he muttered.

  “You don’t want a sensible woman, and you know it.”

  “I thought I did until I met you,” he said dryly.

  Emma laughed gaily and pushed at him. “Are you showering with me or what?”

  “I’m with you. But no more sex. I’ll need some strength left to deal with whatever we run into tonight.”

  “You poor thing,” she cooed, unsnapping her bra and tossing it on the bed. “Maybe we should shower separately, so I’m not tempted to ravish you again.”

  Duncan shoved his denims to the floor and stepped out of them, his cock already aroused and ready for her. “Ravish away, darlin’,” he growled.

  * * * *

  I should have made Emma stay home. That was Duncan’s first thought as they pulled into the parking lot of the blood house. Though it certainly wasn’t a house. Even calling it a bar was being kind. It was more like a dive.

  Stuck in the middle of a rundown strip mall, the bar had blacked-out windows and no name, just a purple neon sign that read Bar, and showed its age in the curves of the letters, where it was more pink than purple. There were security lights at the far corners of the long, low strip mall building, but none over the bar itself.

  “Louis, are you sure this place is still active?” Miguel asked, speaking into his Bluetooth headset to Duncan’s security chief, who rode in the SUV behind them.

  Before Louis could answer, Duncan was nodding. “There are vampires inside.” He tilted his head curiously. “But no humans. What is today, Thursday? Perhaps they’re not open for business until the weekend.”

  Emma spoke up next to him. “Are we still going to—”

  “Yes,” Duncan said. “I’m not looking for human companionship. I came to meet the vampires who feed here.” He felt Emma wince next to him, but he’d used the blunt words intentionally. He wanted her to have no illusions about what went on in a place like this. Whether an elegant house on the beach in Malibu, or a tacky strip mall bar like this one, a blood house existed for one purpose only, and that was to feed vampires. There might be booze and music, and they might seem more like pick-up bars or party houses, but underneath it all, they were feed lots and nothing more. Emma needed to understand that before she walked through this seedy bar’s cracked and torn leather-padded door.

 

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