Wild Nights

by Sharon Page

  She was a beautiful seductress, a temptress, lying naked with her legs spread and her sweet pearlescent pussy just an inch from his face, and she wanted to talk about his soul?

  He must be losing his touch.

  Yes, he needed her to save his soul, and his life, but right now, more than anything, even more than saving his life, he needed to make love to her.

  He bent his head, sucked, and tugged on her musky, juicy lips, astonished at his control over his brutal nature. Again it spoke to the power Erin possessed—the power of a mate over a predator. He’d never before made love to a woman without drinking from her, and once a woman was in ecstasy she would willingly offer her neck to him.

  Erin’s scents and flavors were delectable, triggering hungers he’d not had for a very long time. Not for blood. Not even for mere pleasure.

  For love.

  Reigning in his desire to give a sensual play nip to Erin’s delicate nether lips—nothing that would hurt, but would just tease—Michael tongued her hard clit. Erin didn’t trim her bush, and he loved looking up and seeing her curvaceous, flushed body screened by the dark auburn curls on her mound.

  He couldn’t hold off any longer, and he rose over her, hand on his rigid cock.

  “Oh, yes,” she moaned. Then suddenly, “No … no, wait. I want you to use a condom. Do you have one?”

  Panting, Michael shook his head. Since he didn’t need one, he never carried one. “As an immortal, I can’t get you pregnant, Erin, and I don’t have any diseases. We can have worry-free, hot lovemaking.”

  “I would prefer to take precautions.” Her voice was definite. Determined.

  “Of course,” he agreed, cursing himself for being a damned idiot. Any mortal guy would carry a condom with him.

  He almost fell off the bed when she pointed to her bedside table. “See that box? There’s some in there.”

  He stared at her in surprise.

  “A woman has to be prepared,” she said defensively. “And, no, I haven’t had the need to use one since we started our relationship.”

  He flipped open the small jewelry box on her table. On the red velvet lining sat several small packets, some beads, and a tube of lubricant. He fingered the beads for a moment, knowing how those could be used, before selecting a gold packet. It crinkled at his touch. For several seconds he studied it. He knew what condoms looked like, but he’d never used one.

  Not even two hundred years ago, when he was mortal.

  “What’s the problem?” she asked.

  He met her wary green eyes with a sheepish grin. “I’ve never put one on.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No.”

  Erin sat up, took the package from his fingers, and tore it open. “Do you want me to put it on you?”

  He licked his fangs. “Oh, yes.”

  “Okay. Now, pay attention.”

  Michael moaned at her touch as she grasped his cock and pressed the ring to the sensitive head. Slowly she unrolled the smooth sheath.

  Watching the gold-colored membrane cover him, he shivered with intense desire. He’d never guessed putting on a condom could be so erotic.

  “I don’t know,” she murmured. “This seems very tight. I don’t think there’s enough space at the tip.”

  “Do you have a bigger one?”

  “They don’t make a bigger one.”

  Michael’s heart pounded. What if she refused to let him make love to her because of his too-tight sheath? But she stroked her fingers along his tightly packed cock, rolled onto her back underneath him, and whispered, “Let’s try.”

  He slid his fingers between her thighs, opening her, delighted at the flood of juice that met his touch. He dragged in a rough breath as her emerald eyes glazed with need.

  “Tell me what you want,” he urged. “The way you used to write to me.”

  “Ummm … okay … put your huge cock in me,” she begged, all throaty voice and coy eyes.

  He growled at her lusty invitation. Her fiery pussy opened easily for him, slick with her sweet liquid, and he sank right in.

  He’d fantasized about this moment, this moment that he needed to stay alive. This first coupling with his soul mate. But, once engulfed inside Erin, his Varkyre nature almost overwhelmed him, and he had to bite down on his own tongue. Had to take the edge off the sudden driving instinct to bite.

  The predatory urge faded quickly. After a few long, slow, tantalizing thrusts of his cock into her snug passage, Michael could trust himself. Bracing himself on his arms, he lowered his mouth to Erin’s, joining them in a kiss, joining them as intimately as he could without uniting them with his fangs.

  Erin tipped her head back, hungrily opening her mouth to him. She was exquisitely beautiful in passion—the green depths of her eyes glowed with desire, her long hair spilled out across her sheets, her nipples were hard, teasing points against his chest.

  Buried in Erin’s hot, beautiful body to the hilt, Michael knew that all the erotic fantasies they’d poured out over the Internet were tame compared to the fiery heat of being together.

  Of it being real.

  And when she lifted her legs, locking them around his hips, pulling him tight against her, he had to stop thrusting to keep from exploding. His back arched as she explored it with her hands, as her nails lightly raked his skin.

  His very life depended on her pleasure. Not only did he want to make her scream in ecstasy, not only did he want to fuck her until she couldn’t walk, he wanted to make love to her until she closed her eyes, limp with exhaustion, and told him she loved him.

  Erin whimpered. Michael was teasing her—buried so deep in her, filling her, but not moving. His cock was enormous inside her, splaying apart her tight walls, and she’d never felt so full in her life.

  “You feel incredible in me,” she whispered, locking her arms around his taut neck.

  She bucked and rolled her hips. “Please.”

  He pumped into her slowly, riding high so his shaft slid along her slick clit with every thrust. He watched her respond to every deep, hard stroke, and the intensity in his shining eyes seared her soul.

  Oh, how she wished he had a soul. How she wished he were human … or alive … or not undead. She wasn’t sure what she meant, only that she couldn’t imagine giving her heart to a vampire….

  Could he be mortal? Be hers?

  God, she was so filled. So wonderfully filled by him….

  Could everything he’d said to her about his soul be a lie? A way to get between her legs?

  What was she doing trusting him? But her instincts told her she could. Michael had written to her every day for three months, talked to her for hours on the phone.

  A lot of what he’d told her was lies but … he wasn’t here just to take her blood.

  What was the price of his soul?

  Michael shifted, and suddenly one large hand was beneath her ass, fingers flared across her cheeks to lift her to him as his cock slid in. Arching in pleasure, Erin touched her lips to the hot skin of his neck. She licked his throat, tasting sweat—she had no idea the undead could perspire.

  She wrapped her legs around his hips to clamp him to her. To hold him tight. She ran her hand up the taut, sinewy column of his arm, over rock-hard muscles. How much was he restraining his incredible strength?

  Michael slid into her relentlessly, his thickness gliding over the ridges of her passages, battering deeply into her core. He rocked his hips hard, then harder and faster, until he pounded her, and she hammered her heels against his ass to drive him on.

  His hand moved, let her go, and she clung to him. His hand was at his mouth, scraping across his fangs.

  She arched back to moan, stilled as his finger approached her lips. Drops of his dark crimson blood welled on his fingertip.

  “I can’t drink your—” Erin broke off as he plunged so deep she had to scream. “—blood,” she finished.

  “Suckle it,” he urged. She was sure he must be on the brink of orgasm. And st
rangely, as she took his finger into her mouth, and the unusual sweet, metallic tang of his blood hit her tongue, she was on the edge. She liked it. Her favorite chocolates were maraschino-cherry-filled and his skin, his blood, was more scrumptious than an entire box of those.

  Fear gripped her heart. Was she making herself into a vampire?

  But she knew, if she kept sucking, she was going to come, explode, burst into flames.

  He pumped into her, head on her breast, licking her nipple in the same hot, commanding rhythm. Her fingers slid in the sweat on his back. His firm, smooth powerful body was so slick, so wet, so scorching hot—

  Aah. Her body arched, her muscles clenched. Her pussy jerked and burned and turned molten.

  Pleasure.

  Bliss.

  Exploding lights blinded her before she tumbled into a hot, velvety darkness.

  Gasping for breath, riding each powerful wave, Erin was sure she was truly dead. Or undead. She’d never known such a powerful orgasm. Did this mean that tasting his blood had turned her?

  She didn’t care. Not if it meant coming like this.

  Michael spread her legs wide, her pussy still throbbing around his cock, and she sobbed as he drove in, deep, deep inside, filling her completely. He moved his hips, slanting them to slide deeper still, to take her into a realm she’d never known.

  She’d never clawed a man before—was sure it was a faked thing women did solely to delight men—but as her second climax took her, she drove her nails into Michael and dragged them over his flesh. She growled and whimpered and snapped her teeth into his neck.

  He cried out her name against her ear, drove his hips hard against her. His body bucked, his head arched back. He yelled loud. A wild, deep roar.

  He burned into her. His come filled her like a wash of fire. She tensed beneath him; how could she feel it so hot through his rubber?

  Shuddering, braced on his arms, Michael bent and captured her mouth. He ravaged her mouth before softening the kiss to a gentle caress.

  As he began to withdraw, she whispered, “Hold on to the condom,” in case he didn’t know.

  “Okay—oh.”

  “What?” She pushed up slowly to see. Gulped. The condom was a messy ring around the base of his still large, semihard cock. He’d ripped right through it.

  “I’m sorry, love. But I give you my word you have nothing to worry about.” He took it off, tossed it to the garbage, but his eyes never left her face. He wanted to hear she believed him.

  She did, but she never let a man assume she bought into everything he said. “Not much we can do about it now.”

  His lips cranked down, his lashes shrouded his dark eyes, and he looked like a chastised boy.

  “It’s not your fault, Michael. You can’t help it if you have a superhuman cock.” Erin rested her hand on his thigh beside the softening organ in question.

  “Did I pleasure you well?” He stretched out at her side, snuggling close.

  “Did you not hear a scream? I distinctly heard one. I think it was me.”

  His large hand slid over the mound of her right breast, engulfing her tingly skin with warmth. “You made me howl like I’ve never done before, Erin. I normally never make a sound when I come.”

  “Really?”

  His eyes shut. “Now I must sleep. Sleep in my arms, would you?”

  “But it’s the middle of the morning—oh, that’s when vampires do sleep, isn’t it?”

  He didn’t answer. Curious, Erin watched for several minutes. She saw no sign he was breathing; his chest stayed motionless, his body didn’t move or twitch. Even when she put her fingers to his lips, she felt no soft rush of air from his nose or mouth.

  He must be okay….

  She felt strangely tired, too. Lazy and sated and spent.

  Mmmm, would Michael want to sleep all day in her bed? Should she rest up for the coming night?

  She reached for her phone to advise Jessica she would be gone for the day. She really needed to investigate vampires.

  After three hours of searching the Internet for vampire sites, Erin leaned her head back against her headboard. She’d learned plenty about fictional vampires and ancient legends about creatures that drank blood.

  What had she expected? A site dedicated to real honest-to-goodness, certified vampires?

  She had reread every scrap of information she had gathered on Michael Rourke. He had a social security number, a driver’s license, a college degree, and he paid his taxes, but his records became foggy during his youth. He was reputedly orphaned—which had tugged at her heart when she’d first learned it. The orphanage that had raised him had been closed for years, and she hadn’t been able to locate anyone who had been employed by it. The British school he’d supposedly attended no longer existed, and the teachers—called “masters”—were either un-traceable or dead.

  At school she’d had the qualities of a PI drilled into her head: Be skeptical of the obvious, and develop a sense for the unusual. Learn to sense when something is out of place or not in keeping with the norm. Acknowledge your own biases, and balance them with the truth. Maintain objectivity.

  In other words, believe in vampires if you found enough evidence to prove they did exist.

  Her cell phone rang, jarring her. Erin fumbled for it on her bedside table, jostling her laptop, which sat on her sheet-covered thighs.

  “Hello?” She closed the computer screen with her free hand.

  “Erin, darling?”

  Oh, god. Mother.

  “Are you certain you won’t be available for dinner tonight?”

  She had an undead man in her bed. Available for dinner? She almost laughed into the phone. “No.”

  “Hmmm.” Erin could hear Linnet’s manicured nails tapping. “So, how is Internet dating progressing?”

  “Just fine.” Erin gripped her computer and carefully leaned out of the bed to lower it to the floor. “But I can’t—”

  “I looked at one of those dating groups you were talking about,” Linnet broke in. “I’ve never seen so many photographs of naked, er … penises in my life. Was size your criteria for deciding which one to date?”

  Erin groaned. “I’m not dating a man from an adult chat site.”

  The thought of her conservative, immaculately groomed mother discovering adult personals brought a nervous giggle to her lips.

  “I assumed, darling, that you told me you are Internet dating because you want my opinion.” Linnet sounded hurt.

  No, I mentioned it because you were threatening to arrange a dinner party chock-full of unattached lawyers. I didn’t want to become a lawyer, and I sure as hell don’t want to marry one.

  “The Internet dating is going just fine, Mother.” I’ve found a hot, single, unattached vampire.

  Erin turned and glanced down at Michael, sleeping beside her. He lay on his side, facing her, with his eyes closed.

  He was so beautiful. His right arm, lightly furred with short dark hair, was folded beneath his pillow. The left stretched across to her, fingers splayed over the sheet. His naked chest, wide and beautifully muscled, took her breath away. Shadows defined his straight collarbone and caressed the underside of his pecs, emphasizing the firm, jutting muscles.

  All thoughts fled Erin’s head as she let her gaze slide down over Michael’s rippling abs to the rumpled edge of her burgundy sheet. It clung to his slim hips, was wrapped between his legs, giving a teasing glimpse of the thick curls near his crotch, but covering his cock.

  She longed to reach over and stroke the soft, black hair dusting Michael’s forehead. With his eyes closed, his eyelashes black slashes against his golden skin, and his lips pressed together, he looked angelic—merely an exceptionally beautiful, normal man.

  As though she’d only dreamed he was a vampire.

  Dimly she heard Linnet chattering. “Isn’t that the point?”

  “Is what the point?” She rolled away from Michael, planning to wrap up the conversation quickly.

  Linn
et gave a long sigh. “Darling, wouldn’t you rather be doing something more worthwhile than investigating cheating husbands?”

  “Like defending them in divorce settlements?” Every conversation with Linnet ended the same way. She hated needling her mother by referring to her father; Peter Kennedy’s firm was known for ensuring that male clients got through divorce with their bank accounts intact.

  “There are other law firms. Firms more successful than your father’s.”

  Erin sighed. Her parents’ breakup was one more nail in the coffin that contained her dying belief in “happily ever after”—the coffin her adultery investigations had pounded shut. “This week I prevented a nice seventy-year-old widow from giving her savings to a con man. That’s worthwhile. And I own my own business. I like owning my own business.”

  Well, the bank owned a considerable chunk of her firm, but there was no reason to disclose that to her mother.

  What she needed were siblings to keep Linnet distracted. Alas, she was the only hope for grandchildren, and all of Linnet’s friends now had brilliant, beautiful grandchildren.

  “But you aren’t meeting any men while you’re working all these hours in your business. And really, dear, I can’t understand how Internet dating is the least bit … satisfying.”

  “Mother, I—oh!” Erin gasped as Michael’s hand stroked down her spine. She’d expected he’d sleep, well, like the dead, but hadn’t been sure.

  As his mouth followed the path of his hand, she knew she’d better hang up fast. Her mother said something she didn’t hear because Michael was kissing the base of her spine and kneading her ass.

  She stuck her fist in her mouth to keep from yelling in excitement. Desperately she hit the hang-up button without another word and dropped the phone to the floor.

  Michael pressed his fingertip to her lips, and she took it in, tasting the rich tang of his blood. She sucked his finger like a cock, drawing in his blood as though she were drinking his come, while he tickled her anal passage with his fingertip.

  To her surprise, she felt bereft when he took his finger from her mouth. Until he parted her cheeks and licked her ass.

  Michael rolled her onto her stomach, lifting her so his fingers delved into her wet pussy and toyed with her sensitive clit while his hot, wet tongue explored the tingling rim of her rear. The delicious sensations were more than she could bear.