by J. P. Bowie
Jeez, but every part of him felt so wonderful, so smooth, so sensuous. How, I wondered through the sensual haze that had enveloped my mind, how did I get this lucky?
“I’m the lucky one,” he murmured, pulling me level with his eyes.
I blinked. “That’s the second time you’ve read my mind,” I said with a half laugh.
His beautiful eyes widened slightly. “You were thinking that same thought?”
“Mmhmm…” I kissed his mouth and gasped as his teeth nipped at my tongue. I pushed in between his teeth, caressing his tongue with mine, filling his mouth with my hot moistness. We pulled off each other’s jeans and shoes, and I sat astride his thighs. I took his rock hard cock in my hand and pumped it gently. His hands slid up my sides, teasing my nipples, stroking my chest.
“You are perfect,” he said, his eyes locked on mine.
Perfect… I knew I was far from that, but at that moment, I believed it to be so. In his arms, feeling his lips on mine, gazing into those incredible eyes, I felt that perhaps some of his perfection had rubbed off on me. He raised himself up and kissed my chest. His arms held me pressed tight against him. His hands caressed my back, then with seemingly little effort, he lifted me so that I sat astride his lap. His erection pulsed under me. Oh, it was going to feel so good inside me.
I reached for my jeans and pulled out the condom I’d thought to bring along—just in case. His eyes flickered, and for a moment, I thought he was going to say something, but then he smiled and took the foil wrapper from me, tearing it open with his teeth.
“Here…” His voice was husky. “Put it on me.”
I slipped the latex tip into my mouth, then went down on him, using my lips and
tongue to ease the condom over his throbbing penis. His body shuddered with desire, and his big hands stroked and caressed my face as I kept him in my mouth, loving the pulsing I DUET IN BLOOD
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felt between my lips. My hands strayed over the ridges of his abdomen, up over his muscular chest, finding his small hard nipples, teasing them between my thumb and forefinger.
But I wanted him inside me.
“You have some lube?” I asked, my voice hoarse with anticipation.
He nodded and reached behind him, pulling a tube from the nightstand drawer. He
coated his fingers with the gel, pressing gently against my opening. One long finger slipped in, then two, and I moaned as he hit my sweet spot. My cock jumped from the sensation, and I tensed as I felt myself drawn close to the edge. His fingers slipped out of me, and I straddled him again. I grasped his hot shaft and slowly lowered myself onto it. He was big, and I gasped with shock as the head of his cock pushed past my sphincter muscles. Feeling me flinch, he paused for a moment, bringing his lips to mine and setting my mouth on fire with a kiss so intense, I thought my head would explode.
I wound my arms about his neck, keeping his mouth on mine, revelling in the
thousands of sensations that streamed through my body like molten fire. His lips, his mouth, his hands, his cock now deep inside me, the rhythm of his hips under me—all of this brought me to an ecstasy I would never have believed possible. A great cry of delirious joy was wrenched from me as I let myself be taken over by the physical need he evoked in me. His arms crushed me to him, his hips thrust upward, driving himself into the very core of me. As I met each thrust with my own, I felt as though I was being transported, taken out of my physical body to a plane of existence that was out of reach for mere mortals.
My God, what was he doing to me? How could he do this to me? A little bookseller like me driven to a wild wantonness I had never dreamed of…
I wanted this to last forever, and I gritted my teeth against the churning of my orgasm deep in my balls. No, no, not yet…not yet. Let me savour this…please let me…
His thrusts quickened under me while my prostrate screamed for release, and with a mighty yell, I climaxed, pouring out jet after jet of thick, creamy semen all over his chest and chin.
“Micah!” He brought my face to his as he came in great shuddering spasms, and I clung to him, telling him how fantastic he was as I rode the waves of his convulsive orgasm. And then, amazingly, with a move that was smooth and gentle, though it must have taken some DUET IN BLOOD
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considerable strength and balance on his part, I was lying on my back. He towered over me, his face set in a rictus of rapture, and I realised he was having another orgasm.
Oh, Jesus, he was huge inside me. It should have hurt, but all I felt was an incredible ecstasy and the urge to have him take me, body and soul. His eyes fixed on mine and his lips pulled back. I swore his teeth looked longer, sharper. The wild, almost feral expression on his face shocked, yet thrilled, me.
“Joseph,” I gasped. “Yes, fuck me, fuck me again.”
He growled as he thrust deep inside me, and my skin prickled and tingled all over at the sound. Then it happened. I felt his hot semen flood my insides, and I knew the condom had broken. Despite my euphoria at being a part of this incredible experience, my mind grasped the reality of what that might mean, and my eyes, fixed on his, widened with the shock of it.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, knowing what had scared me. “I am negative.”
I clung to him, relief flowing over me as he uttered those words. His hand stroked my hair, acting as a soothing balm. I buried my face in his chest and listened to his words of assurance that all would be well.
We lay in each other’s arms, my head on his chest, and I still felt the warm afterglow of what had passed between us. After that gloriously hot experience, I was happy to lie quietly, my only movement a gentle caress of my fingertips across his muscled torso. He gave a deep sigh, I hoped, of contentment. As he gently stroked my hair, I raised my head to look at him.
“This is nice,” I murmured.
He kissed my forehead and smiled at me. “Yes, it is.”
God, but he was gorgeous. I wanted to just lie there with him holding me, forever.
“What’s your last name, Joseph?” I asked.
“Meyer. My father, also Joseph, was from Southern Germany. And yours…?”
“Fitzgerald.”
“Micah Fitzgerald.” He said my name slowly as if he were relishing it. “An unusual combination.”
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“My mother just loved the name Micah. My dad was Irish. He died two years ago.”
His arm tightened about me. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. It’s funny, because I had just met Robert—my ex—and he was so great all through that. I’d really begun to believe he’d been sent to me to keep me strong, so I could be strong for my mother.” I paused, slightly embarrassed that I was, again, opening up to this man, who until a few hours ago, I hadn’t known existed. Way to go Micah. Put another damper on the evening.
He kissed my cheek. “Perhaps if you tell me about what happened, it will ease your mind a little.”
“Oh Jeez, you don’t want to hear all that.”
“I’m a very good listener.”
“But you didn’t invite me here to listen to me whine about my ex-boyfriend.”
“If it will make you feel better, I don’t mind.”
I sighed. “It’s boring really. Robert left me because he lost interest in our relationship. I wasn’t exciting enough for him, I guess. He was fed up with the same old routine. We were getting into a rut, always doing everything together, instead of seeing our old friends or going places where we might make new friends. I said we could do that, but he said it was too late. He’d met a guy who could give him what I could not, and he was leaving.
“I was kinda shocked, although, to be honest, I could sense it coming. Funny, but I sometimes seem to have this, uh…weird premonition thing going. Anyway, one minute he was standing in the kitchen telling me all this stuff, and the next thing I knew, he was out the do
or, carrying his suitcase.”
“Have you seen him or talked to him since then?” Joseph asked, his voice gentle and concerned.
“Oh yeah. He had to come back to pick up some more of his stuff and drop off his keys.
We talked, and he said he wanted to stay friends, but I couldn’t deal with that, right then.
I’ve seen him a couple of times, here and there.”
“And the one he left you for?”
“That didn’t last.” I forced out a light laugh. “I guess he was even more boring than me.”
Joseph gave me a little shake. “You are not boring, Micah.”
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“You haven’t known me long enough to have that opinion,” I said, laughing again.
“Do not denigrate yourself.” He leaned on his elbow, looking down at me, a frown creasing his brow. “Low esteem is not an attractive quality.” He bent and kissed my cheek.
“You are much better than that.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, stroking his face with my fingertips.
“Are you still in love with him?” he asked.
“No, I don’t think so. I miss him, of course. We did have a lot of fun together, but it’s hard to stay in love with someone who doesn’t give a flying you-know-what for anyone’s feelings but his own.”
“Earlier, you told me you had been out of circulation for some time. Is this the first time you’ve been out since he left you?”
“Yep. First time out.” I smiled up at him. “Who knew I’d get so lucky?”
He pulled me into his arms. “As I said before, I’m the lucky one.”
His kiss was even hotter than before, bringing me such a rush of sensual desire that it seemed to cast a spell of forgetfulness over my mind. Robert was completely forgotten as Joseph’s lips took mine in a kiss that sent my senses spiralling out of control. I grabbed his shoulders, loving the feel of the hard muscles that bunched under his skin as I pulled him down on top of me. In a second or two, I was all fired up again, hard as a rock and rarin’ to go. He was too, so putting any further conversation on hold, we went at it again…and again.
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Chapter Two
Joseph
In all my long life, I have known but a few men who could arouse instant feelings of longing in my heart. Marcus, of course, but our union had been fated to be not one of lovers, but of abiding friendship—a friendship that I have treasured above all others. Without him, I might have languished in captivity forever, and without the gift of his blood, I doubt I would have survived the ordeal. Bernard and Angelo both touched my heart, and since then, there have been only one or two others, who sadly, could not accept what I am, and so had to be left with no memory of ever having met me.
This is what I feared might be the price I would pay for my night of rapture with Micah.
Holding him as he slept so peacefully in my arms after our lovemaking, I felt my heart constrict with apprehension at the thought that his sweet face would crease with horror on discovering my true identity.
A vampire can control human minds to a certain degree. We can read their thoughts, we can erase their memory of us—and we can exert our will upon them, binding them to us for as long as we wish. It would be so easy for me to plant such a thought in Micah’s mind—
to have him love me unconditionally and follow wherever I might lead. But that had never been my way, and it would not be now.
Micah must come to me willingly, or not at all.
Sometimes I wished that we vampires, along with our many talents, could also foresee the future. Unfortunately, that gift had not been bestowed upon us. We remain as surprised as most mortals at unexpected turns of events, our only defence being the ability to read the minds of those who might want to surprise us.
Micah stirred in my arms, pressing his face to my chest, covering my legs with his. His lips fluttered on my skin, and I kissed his forehead, holding him gently so as not to fully wake him, even though I longed to make love to him again. Perhaps I could…
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I entered his mind, and to my delight found him dreaming of the passion we had
shared. In his dream, we were locked in each other’s arms, his legs were wrapped around my waist and I was buried deep inside him. I could feel the moist heat of his core, the warmth of his lips on mine, the desire that radiated from him as he clung to me.
As much as I longed to waken him, to fulfil him and myself, I had to be content—not ungratefully—with the sensations of his body now pressed to mine, as his dream raised him to ecstatic heights. Just as in his dream, his legs encircled my torso. I eased my hips forward so that I could enter him, slowly at first, then as his arms tightened about me, with a steady, rhythmic stroke. He moaned softly in his sleep, his lips searching for a kiss.
Gladly, I lifted his face to mine, letting our lips meet in a kiss that was sweet, yet filled with a hungry passion.
My thoughts meshed with his, and I felt that I was truly a part of his dream. It was as if I was witnessing the two of us making love. It made me feel somewhat of a voyeur, and only helped to increase my lust and desire for him.
The vision of his slim, sleek body pressed to mine was enough to inflame me with an even greater lust. Our earlier lovemaking had been thrilling, but this was something that even I had not experienced before. Micah was taking me to places within myself that no other mortal man had. Half in and half out of his dream, my mind sought to understand just what it was I found so entrancing about him, so desirous of his acceptance of me…so quickly in love.
But then physical need overwhelmed me. The carnal pleasure his body gave me swept away all my questions, and all that was left was the desire, and the need, to bring him as much pleasure as he brought me. In his dream, he kissed me with an ever increasing passion, his body cleaving to mine in the throes of his ecstasy. In the physical world, his mouth was on mine, our arms were wrapped tightly about one other, and I could feel his hard cock pulse against my torso. And just as in his dream, we came together, his hot semen coating our flesh, mine filling him once more, wrenched from me in great spasms that left me shuddering, and completely spent.
I would swear that in all my long life I’d never had an orgasm of such intensity. As Micah murmured softly in his sleep, I kissed his sweet lips and stroked his burnished hair from his damp brow. I wondered if he would remember this dream when he awakened.
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Micah
I awoke from a sexy, dream-filled sleep and stretched like a contented cat. The evening and early hours of the morning had been more that I could have ever imagined. God, but it had been fantastic—he was fantastic. In my whole life, I had never been able to go for it so many times. I felt as if I was becoming insatiable, just not getting enough of him—but boy, he’d been up for it every time, too! Plus, I’d dreamed of him making love to me—what a fantastic dream! It had seemed so real.
I rolled onto my side and put my arm around his chest, snuggling close to him as he slept. I kissed the nape of his neck, stroked his chest and hard stomach, willing him to wake up and make love to me again. Talk about insatiable.
Then some instinct made me glance at my watch. Shit…almost eight. I’d have to move it if I wasn’t going to be late opening the store. Damn…where were my clothes? I peered into the darkness of the room, stumbling from the bed and cracking my shin on a corner table.
“Ow!”
Joseph stirred and sat up. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, but I gotta go. I’ll be late for work.”
“It’s Sunday.”
“I work Sundays. It’s so dark in here…”
“Sorry.” Joseph flicked on the bedside lamp. “Just, please, don’t open the drapes.”
“I need to find my clothes.”
“Wait, I’ll get up.” Joseph rose and strode into the living area, turning on another lamp.
“It’ll be light outside,” I said, heading for the window.
“I said, do not open the drapes!”
His voice was like a thunderclap. My hand froze in the act of doing what he clearly did not want me to do. I turned and gaped at him. He was glaring at me, his beautiful grey eyes now turned hard as shot steel.
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“Jeez. I’m sorry.” My hand nervously dropped from the blackout fabric I held. What had happened to the sweet guy from last night? I stared at Joseph’s naked body, now tense as a tightly wound spring. What was the big deal, anyway? “I’m sorry,” I repeated.
He seemed to relax. “No, no, it is I who must apologise,” he said, his voice again low and husky. “You could not know, after all. I have an aversion to strong sunlight. My eyes…they are defective.”
Those beautiful eyes?
I hurried to where Joseph stood and threw my arms around him. “I wish you’d told me.
I would’ve hated to have caused you pain.” The sensation of his nakedness against mine gave me a deep visceral thrill. What a bummer I had to leave.
“Don’t leave…” Joseph’s husky whisper in my ear made me shiver with desire.
“I have to go to work.”
“I’ll order you a cab.”
“I have to go home and change first. I really have to go.” I smiled into his eyes, glad to see that their former warmth had returned. I started to pick up the clothes I’d thrown off the night before. “But, maybe we could get together again…”
“Tonight?” Joseph prompted, turning slightly to pick up a silk robe from the sofa. “For dinner?”
“You’re not busy?” I asked, staring at the tattoo on his right shoulder blade. I hadn’t noticed it until that moment.
“Not all of us have to work on Sundays. When can I expect you?”
“Uh, where’d you want to meet?” I asked, pulling on my jeans.