Vampires in America: The Vignettes, Volume 1

by D. B. Reynolds

  Duncan gave him an impatient look, one eyebrow raised to emphasize his unanswered question.

  “Victor never came here, my lord,” Domingo whispered hoarsely. “I’ve never met another vampire who could—” He cut himself off, clearly terrified of saying the wrong thing.

  Duncan blinked lazily. “Well, now you have.” He took the knife from Miguel and paused with the blade just over his left forearm.

  “Domingo Paro, do you come to me of your own free will and desire?” he asked formally.

  Domingo swallowed hard, but his nod of assent was instant and repeated several times. “I do, my lord,” he said, his voice still harsh with strain.

  “And is this what you truly desire?”

  “Yes, my lord, it is my truest desire.”

  Duncan lowered the blade, laying a clean slice from the center of his forearm, between the tendons, to his wrist. Blood welled almost immediately, dark red and thick as it crept down his arm to pool in his cupped palm. Emma made a small noise of distress, more emotion than actual sound. Duncan glanced up to find her staring at the blood dripping down his arm, her pretty face creased in concern.

  Her expression quickly shifted to one of intense curiosity when Domingo’s head jerked up, his nostrils flaring, his gaze zeroing in on the bounty of blood so tantalizingly close. Confident that Emma was okay with what she was seeing, Duncan turned his attention to the vampire, aware of the importance of the moment. If Domingo had never come across a vampire stronger than himself, he’d probably never encountered another master, let alone a vampire lord. It didn’t surprise Duncan at all that Victor would never have bothered to travel outside of D.C. to meet the vampires he was responsible for. But it made him wonder who had sired Domingo. Not that it mattered anymore. From this day forward, Domingo would call only one vampire Master.

  Duncan nudged his hand forward in invitation. Domingo’s eyes snapped up to search Duncan’s face, hunger evident in every line of his body.

  “Drink, Domingo,” Duncan said softly. “And be mine.”

  With a small whine of greed, Domingo buried his face in Duncan’s bloody hand, his tongue lapping up the fresh blood, as a groan of pleasure hummed in his throat. Duncan watched, unconcerned about the other vampires in the room, although they, too, were certainly affected by smell of his blood. He knew if he looked up he’d find glazed eyes and bared fangs all around. Not in aggression, but in a purely automatic reaction to the exotic scent of a vampire lord’s blood. In any event, he had complete faith in his security people, and he knew if anyone took so much as a step in the wrong direction, the offender would be stopped cold.

  Finally, he pulled his hand away, using a wisp of power to stop Domingo’s instinctive lunge of pursuit.

  Miguel had already taken the knife and now he handed Duncan a clean, white handkerchief to wrap around his arm temporarily. The bleeding would stop very quickly, and the cut would heal. He would like to have wiped the arm clean, but that would wait until they were back in the privacy of their SUV.

  * * * *

  It was an hour short of sunrise by the time he and Emma were back at the house in D.C. Duncan closed the door to their private suite with a sigh of relief. Tonight’s adventure was just one more check off the list of things he had to take care of, one more step toward securing control of his new territory.

  Across the room, Emma carefully retrieved the gun from her jacket pocket and laid it on the antique dresser. It was a curious juxtaposition, the modern elegance and design of the killing tool against the bureau’s age-old elegance of wood and craftsmanship. But since the bureau had resided in a vampire’s home for hundreds of years, it had no doubt been the repository of more than one weapon of violence.

  He crossed the room as she toed off her boots and stripped out of her tight jeans. She’d sat silently next to him on the ride back, listening as Duncan and his people dissected the evening’s events, her head resting on his shoulder. She was still quiet, but her emotions definitely were not. Her heart was racing and she was … exhilarated? He turned her to face him, pulling her close and kissing her temple to inhale the fresh scent of her hair.

  “Are you well, Emmaline?”

  She leaned back enough to grin up at him. “I’m great! That was exciting. I mean, I saw you give blood to Baldwin when he got shot, but this was different. That whole ritual thing!”

  Duncan laughed. He’d been worried she would find it too brutal, and here she’d been drinking in the whole thing like some new exotic adventure.

  “About that gun of yours—” he began.

  “Oh, come on, you knew I had it.”

  “I did,” he confirmed. “Though I never expected you to use it. You do know that a 9 mm round won’t stop most vampires? Baldwin’s injury was unusual in that it nicked the aorta and came very close to hitting his heart. But you can’t count on that.”

  “I know,” Emma said, nodding. “That’s what Cyn said, that’s why—”

  “Cyn?” Duncan repeated with a sinking feeling. “You were talking guns with Cyn?”

  “Not guns, Duncan. We talked about how to kill a vampire. That’s why she gave me a box of her super vampire killer rounds. It’s this special ammunition that—”

  Duncan bit back a groan. “Yes, I know what it is. Cyn gave these bullets to you?”

  “She did.” Emma met his gaze and asked sweetly, “Is that a problem?”

  Duncan tried to imagine all the ways Cyn might corrupt his Emma, and tried not to shudder. Not that he didn’t want Emma to know how to defend herself, he just wished there was some way to be sure that self-defense was the only thing Cyn was teaching her. He laughed abruptly, more at himself than anything else, at the very idea that he could stop Cyn and Emma from doing whatever they wanted.

  Pulling Emma close once again, he kissed the top of her head. “No problem at all, Emmaline. There’s no human alive who knows more about killing vampires than Cynthia. Just don’t kill anyone I value, all right?”

  “Sure thing, beautiful.” Emma slipped her hands under his sweater, gliding them over his hips and around his back. “It’s a good thing I was there to defend you tonight, huh?”

  “Defending me is Miguel and Louis’s job, not yours.”

  “Sure, if someone’s trying to kill you, but I’m talking about that bitch with the big boobs. She had her eye on you.”

  “Imani had her eye on Duncan the vampire lord, not me personally. Any other vamp would have done as well if he’d had the power.” He wrapped his arms around Emma, enjoying the press of her soft breasts against his chest, sliding his hands down her back to rest above the curve of her ass. “Besides, I only have eyes for you.”

  “Aw,” Emma smiled, her cheeks flushing with pleasure. “You say the sweetest things.”

  “I’m a sweet guy.”

  Emma pursed her lips doubtfully. “Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe you’re just a really smooth talker who’s good at getting what he wants.”

  “And what is it that I want from you, Emmaline,” he murmured. He licked the soft patch of skin behind her ear, then breathed deeply, inhaling the tantalizing scent of her blood, hearing her heartbeat kick up a notch with arousal.

  “It’s late,” she said breathlessly, even as she pushed herself against the bulge of his erection.

  “Not that late,” he growled, and swept her into his arms, carrying her across the room and dumping her unceremoniously on their big bed. “I want you, Emmaline.”

  Emma propped herself on her elbows and gazed up at him, her unique violet eyes hazed with desire as she spread her legs in invitation, one hand reaching down to stroke the tender skin of her inner thighs before grazing the lacy edge of her panties. One finger dipped beneath the triangle of black satin, and he could see the movement of her hand as she pleasured herself.

  Duncan grabbed her hand and pulled it away. “That belongs to me, Emma, my darling. Now lick your finger clean and tell me you’re sorry.”

  He half expected her to refuse out
of sheer stubbornness. In fact, he rather hoped she would refuse so he could demonstrate the error of her ways. The image of his handprint as a hot brand against her perfect ass made his cock twitch in anticipation.

  Emma’s eyes narrowed in rebellion, but then she gave him a wicked look and obeyed his order, trailing her wet fingers up out of her panties, along the bare skin of her belly and into her mouth where she visibly savored the taste of her own arousal.

  Duncan watched through half-lidded eyes, following every sweep of her tongue, every slip and slide of her fingers in and out of her mouth. A growl of approval rumbled up out of his chest and Emma’s eyes widened, her pupils dilated with desire until only a narrow rim of violet was visible.

  Duncan stripped off his own clothes with precise movements, his gaze never leaving Emma as he stalked over to the bed and sank one knee onto the mattress next to her thigh. Reaching down without looking, he removed her panties, ripping first one tie, then the other, before throwing the dainty piece of lace over his shoulder. Emma’s gaze followed its trail before snapping back to his face. She must have seen something in his expression, because she licked her lips nervously.

  “Duncan?” she whispered.

  Duncan lowered his head, eyeing her with the intent gaze of the predator he was. “Emmaline,” he responded, his voice little more than a deep rumble of sound. “Why aren’t you naked?”

  “What?” Emma gasped, blinking. “Oh! I’m sorry.”

  Duncan felt a rush of satisfaction at her response, even as she hurried to snap open the front clasp on her bra. He didn’t wait for her to finish, brushing aside her shaking fingers and opening the bra himself, baring her breasts to his hot gaze. She had beautiful breasts, his Emma, full and heavy with dusky areolae and large nipples that grew swollen as he rolled each one in his mouth until they were bursting with blood, begging to be bitten.

  Emma was moaning softly, her hands fisted in his hair, her hips thrusting blindly, seeking to fill the empty space between her legs. Duncan dropped his full weight onto the bed, pressing Emma beneath him, settling his hips between her thighs. He could feel her hot, wet center against his groin, her heart pounding beneath his chest.

  He lowered his mouth to hers and gave her a soft kiss, his tongue gliding along the crease of her lips, probing into her warm mouth. Emma moaned again, louder this time, a sound filled with wanting.

  “Duncan,” she gasped. “I need—”

  “What do you need, Emmaline. Tell me.”

  “You. I need you.”

  “But you have me,” he murmured, kissing her eyes, her cheeks, nibbling his way back to her sensitive ears.

  “Please,” she cried, then more demanding, “Duncan!”

  “Tell me, Emmaline.”

  Emma groaned as she writhed beneath him, her hips in constant motion, her pussy a trail of heat against his skin, brushing against his cock.

  “Your cock,” she whispered faintly, then stronger, “I need your cock, need you to fuck me. Duncan, please!”

  Duncan grinned against her sweat-moistened skin. Lifting his hips, he reached down and positioning the tip of his erection at her entrance. She was soaking wet, creamy and hot, her sex pulsing as it felt the first touch of his cock, trying to pull him deeper. Duncan pushed into Emma, just barely sliding into her heat, then pulling back again to rub the length of his cock between the swollen lips of her pussy, sliding up and down until he was coated in her slick wetness.

  “Is this what you want, Emma?”

  “More,” she demanded eagerly, tightening her knees to either side of his hips, her hands gripping his ass as if to hold him in place.

  Duncan gave a low chuckle. “Say, please, Emma.”

  “Damn you, Duncan,” she cried, slapping his ass hard enough to hurt. “Please. Fuck me now.”

  Her last word was a scream of pleasure as he drove deep into her body, the thickness of his cock stretching her wide, despite her arousal. The walls of her vagina pulsed around him, tight folds of satiny flesh, straining to accommodate him, while clenching in eager welcome.

  He drove balls deep inside her and waited, letting her body adjust to his intrusion, listening as Emma strove to catch her breath. When her nails scraped down his back, he began moving again, pistoning in and out, fucking her hard, no finesse, just a steady hard pounding of his cock between her legs.

  Emma hung on for dear life, loving the knowledge that Duncan—always in control, always cool Duncan—was lost in his desire for her, his big body crushing her as he plunged his beautiful cock deep into her over and over again. She could feel her own arousal, could feel the first shivers of pleasure tightening her skin, swelling her breasts while drawing her nipples into almost painfully hard pearls of need. She wanted Duncan, wanted him everywhere. Wanted his mouth on her breasts, his lips on her mouth, his tongue sweeping along her cheek to sample the taste of her skin, the scent of her blood. But more than anything, she wanted him right where he was, his shaft a hard rod of velvet over steel, so long and thick that she marveled her body could take him. But she wanted him anyway, with a need that overwhelmed every other desire, that made everything she felt before fade in comparison.

  Her arousal grew, no longer a shiver of pleasure, but now a shuddering need as every nerve ending came alive with bolts of pure ecstasy skating along her senses, and all shooting for the same place—that bundle of nerves between her legs, her hard, little clit that was screaming with pleasure, with need, with . . .

  Oh, my God.

  Emma screamed as she came harder than she ever had before, as every muscle in her body seemed to spasm at once, lifting her off the bed, her back an arch of needy hunger, her nails digging into the flesh of Duncan’s back and ass as if to hold him there forever.

  Duncan hissed his pleasure as she bucked beneath him. She felt the warm, wet touch of his lips on her neck, felt the sharp bite of his fangs nibbling along the edge of her chin, before he buried his face in the soft warmth behind her ear. She knew when his fangs emerged, felt their cool hardness against her overheated skin.

  “Emmaline,” he murmured. “To whom do you belong?”

  “You,” she whispered, not even needing to think about her answer. “I belong to you.”

  Duncan growled in approval and affirmed, “To me.”

  His fangs sank into her neck and Emma thought she’d surely shatter as every inch of her body, every drop of blood, every tiny living cell screamed in pleasure. The last thing she remembered was a rush of heat against her already swollen tissues as Duncan threw his head back and roared his release.

  * * * *

  Emma stirred as steel shutters dropped over the windows, announcing the imminent dawn. She felt swollen and sated, her skin so sensitized that even the slightest touch would be a painful intrusion. Unless that touch was Duncan’s.

  He murmured her name quietly in his sleep, the sun already beginning to claim him. Emma pulled the covers over them both and snuggled against him, smiling when his arm came around her automatically.

  She knew the moment the sun took him, felt his body relax completely as if every muscle let go at once. Leaning up on one elbow, she stroked his beloved face, pushing his blond hair back, running her finger along the perfect ridge of his nose, over the plumpness of his always-youthful mouth.

  “And you belong to me, Duncan Milford. I love you.”

  THE END

  VAMPIRE VIGNETTE #9

  THE WEDDING

  New York, New York – Manhattan

  Raj paced the narrow space of free floor between the table and wall of windows in his penthouse conference room. He really had to find a different place to live. He loved the vitality of Manhattan, but he needed someplace more secure. A house with a big fucking wall around it and lots of yard to roam in when he felt restless.

  And why the hell was he thinking about living arrangements when he had much bigger things to worry about?

  Like the fact that he was about to get married. Married. Vampire Lord of the Northea
st and he was going to walk that long aisle like a good little human. And all because of another little human who happened to hold his heart in her hand. His mood softened at the thought of Sarah and how excited she was about all of this. So, okay, maybe it was worth it. If only he could get through tonight. Tonight was the so-called rehearsal dinner, which meant there were now two other vampire lords invading his territory and he was supposed to stand by and do nothing. Nothing!

  Dammit. He strode for the conference room door, but it opened before he got there.

  “Hey, boss,” his lieutenant Emelie strolled into the room, looking cool and relaxed. Well, sure, she could be relaxed. She wasn’t the one being invaded and married in the same damn weekend. “Figure you’d be going a little nuts in here,” she said. “So I brought you an update.”

  “Good of you,” he growled.

  Emelie grinned, not at all intimidated by his less than gracious response. “Yeah, I thought so, too. Let’s see, Duncan’s due within the hour. I’m about to head over to the airport now to oversee his arrival. Raphael’s plane won’t land until just before sunrise. Cutting it kind of close, but then he’s making the trip from the west coast non-stop. Duncan and his crew are bunking in with Raphael. No real surprise there, I guess,” she added doubtfully.

  “Give them time,” Raj sneered. “They’re all palsy-walsy now, because Duncan’s still new to his territory. Give him another month and his instincts will scream like a son of a bitch if he stays that close to another lord. They might still be friends—probably will be, since Raphael’s his Sire. But they won’t be able to stay in close proximity like that, especially not with the added stress of being in another vampire lord’s territory.”

  “Yeah, I kind of figured that. So, you’re sure you don’t want to do the honors? Wouldn’t you feel better meeting the planes, so you’d know where they are and who’s with them, instead of waiting up here, pacing like an expectant father?”