by Mara Leigh
“Now tell me what happened,” he says.
“Rock, he…” I decide to just blurt it out. “We were fooling around, kissing.” It sounds so trivial put like that. “And I discovered…he was wearing some kind of binding or cage on his…on his…”
Gray pulls my hand over his erection.
“Yes.” I pull my hand back.
“Kinky.”
I slap Gray’s chest.
“Okay. And why did it make you so upset?” he asks more seriously. “Too weird?”
“It was hurting him. It was very tight and clearly painful. Like some kind of torture device. It must have been painful even before…”
“Before he got hard.”
I nod against Gray’s chest.
“Did he tell you why he was wearing it? I mean, I have noticed that he seems, um, well contained when we train, but I sometimes wear a cup, too.”
“This wasn’t a cup. It was leather rings and straps that bent back and twisted his penis and…” I can’t really describe it. I don’t want to. “He said he wears it for my safety.”
“What the hell? Sorry.” Gray squeezes my shoulder. “It’s just… Safety from what? I mean, when you guys fuck—”
“We don’t.” I shake my head against Gray’s chest.
“You’re kidding.” He rubs my back. “Oh, you’re not kidding. Shit. Princess. Really?”
“He says we aren’t compatible sexually.” A lump of emotion rises in my throat. “He is big. I mean really big—”
“You’re making me feel inadequate here.”
I chuckle against Gray’s chest. “Never.” I bend over and kiss his erection through his slacks.
“Holy shit, princess. Do that again and I won’t be able to contain that little fellow.”
“He’s not in the least bit little.” Worried I hurt Gray’s feelings, I sit up to look into his eyes, and I’m relieved to find him grinning—through obvious desire. I should have known he was confident in that department.
I kiss his lips lightly, then settle back down, trying to tame my own growing arousal. I’ve been desperate for sex since I got free from Pike, even before I was free if I’m honest, but after what happened upstairs with Rock, sex with Gray right now feels wrong, even though the more I think about it, I’m not sure why. Rock knows I’ve had sex with Gray.
“Big guy’s probably worried he’ll hurt you,” Rock says quietly. “If his dick is, like, elephant-sized or something, then he’s probably scared he’ll tear you.”
I nod. “I get that, but like I’ve told him, even if that does happen—and we don’t know that it will—I’ll heal. I mean—I’m a vampire. And I want him so badly.” I press my legs together and shift my position, barely able to contain my rising lust. Being this horny when I’m sitting next to Gray is difficult enough, but now that I’m thinking about Rock’s huge cock stretching me, filling me past capacity, thrusting inside me as his climax builds…
“Can we talk about Pike for a minute?” Gray asks softly, bringing me back to the moment.
“What about him?”
“While he had you captive. Did he hurt you? Rape you?” Gray’s voice breaks.
“No.” I shake my head. “In fact, he was gentle with me. The only pain I had the whole time was self-inflicted when I tried to escape. Pike even fed me.”
Gray tenses. “You took his vein?”
I shake my head. “No. He did offer his blood, his wrist, but I wouldn’t take it. He brought me a human.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s strange but the more I think through my kidnapping, the more I realize that Pike did everything he could to make me comfortable. If I ignore the chains and shackles, at least.” And really, while they weren’t exactly comfortable, the shackles didn’t hurt until I tried to break them.
“After you fed…did you fuck Pike?” Gray’s voice lowers to a near growl.
I can’t tell whether he’s jealous or turned on by the idea. I shake my head.
“So you haven’t…” He sucks in a sharp breath and squeezes me against him. “You haven’t fucked since you fed?”
“No. This morning with Rock…I was so turned on I…I know Rock has boundaries but I crossed them, anyway.”
Gray’s hand slips between my legs. “You know, anytime you’re feeling needy, you can always count on me for help. Always willing to take one for the team.” His finger flicks over my panties.
I suck in a gasp. “How noble of you.”
His eyes darken as he looks into mine, and his fingers stroke over my underwear, worn under the big T-shirt I found and threw on upstairs. Gray guides one of my legs over his lap to straddle him, but I pause there, trapping his hand between my body and his.
“Why haven’t you ever taken a mate?” I ask, wanting to understand this man better before having sex with him again.
“Let’s say staying single’s in my job description.”
“I’m serious, Gray.” My hips pulse involuntarily, moving my sex against his trapped hand. This conversation isn’t going to last long.
“Well, I’m serious too.” He strokes my back with his free hand. “Serious about wanting to fuck you.” His hand underneath me pushes up and his fingers make rapid strokes against my panties.
My breath catches. “Don’t you ever talk about yourself?” I ask, trying to contain the obvious lust in my voice. “I’m starting to feel like a sex object.”
“Princess,” he says, “if there’s one thing you’re not, it’s an object.”
In one swift motion, he lifts me off his lap, tears down my panties and lays me back on the sofa.
Leaving one foot on the floor, he thrusts into my body, hard and fast. The entire thing happens in a second and I don’t know when or how he even got his cock out.
And speaking of fast…
Gray slams into me like a piston. His hips drive so fast and hard I can barely breathe and don’t really care.
Then, without warning, he pulls out, flips me over onto my belly and pushes into me from behind. After a few minutes of thrusting, which steals my breath and has my body pressing deep into the sofa cushions, he shifts again.
Lifting me to stand on the carpet, facing away from him, he moves his hands to my breasts as he penetrates me again, driving into me from behind and lifting me up onto my toes.
Pulling me back, he sits back on the sofa and adjusts my legs so I’m kneeling on top of him, facing away.
His hands fondle my breasts and tug at my nipples as he thrusts into me, and I start to bounce, our combined forces working in tandem, and each drive hits so deeply inside me I gasp, over and over. He pinches my nipples with each thrust, further heightening the mind-blowing combination of pleasure and pain.
This is exactly what I needed tonight. What my body craved. I do wish that Gray would open up more, because my feelings for him grow every day, but this feeling, now, the feeling of him pounding deep inside me while he fondles my breasts, this feeling is so wonderful it almost makes up for his lack of emotional connection.
I know Gray cares on some level. He’s clearly sexually attracted, and it’s just as clear that he wants to protect me from harm, but call me greedy—I want more. Just as I wish Rock would give me more sexually, I wish Gray would give me more emotionally.
Releasing one of my nipples, his hand slides down my torso and his finger lands on my clit.
My pleasure peaks.
I bounce as Gray thrusts and his finger rubs my sensitive bud—and I completely forget any worries about emotions or Gray holding back. In fact, I forget everything else in the world. All that exists is my body and Gray’s cock and the multitude of explosions inside me.
Chapter 11
Colton
Another murder at the hands—or more accurately the fangs—of a vampire.
I maneuver my way through the crowd of morbidly curious citizens gathered at the alley entrance.
“Police. Coming through. Police.” I pass a woman, dressed for the clubs in
a skimpy dress and high heels, and shivering in the cool night air. She scowls at me like I’m butting in line for whatever club she undoubtedly came from.
Reaching the police tape, I flash my badge at the constables guarding the alley.
“Task force only,” one tells me.
I point to the Vampire Task Force card opposite my badge. She nods and lets me pass. It’s twisted enough that all these civilians want to crash these horrific murder scenes, but it turns my stomach that so many fellow cops want to witness these horror shows for themselves.
That’s the main reason we VTF members need to carry special cards. Without restricting access to other cops, this alley would be so mobbed that no one would be able to work—the evidence would be compromised or the victim trampled.
When I think of my sister Shelly, lying lifeless in that cold dark alley, winter coat tossed aside, snow accumulating on her cold, dead body…
Grief catches at the base of my throat.
I swallow it down. Now isn’t the time for sadness. I need to know whether this victim was killed by the same bloodsucker that killed Shelly, the one that’s been terrorizing this city for the past ten years—at least.
“Colton.” Sanjay, my partner beckons me over. “What took you so long?”
“I was on the other side of town.”
Off duty tonight, I was at O’Malley’s—again. I told myself that it was because of the anonymous tip. But if I’m honest, I went hoping to run into that mysterious lavender-haired beauty again.
She wasn’t there tonight, or the night before. And neither was the massive Viking-like owner. The whole staff seemed on edge, like something was off. I tried to get the biker-chick waitress to tell me what was going on, but although she kept flirting, I couldn’t get her to give up a thing.
I step around my partner to get a full view of the crime scene. Female, the victim is young—almost looks like she could be in her teens. Her dark brown eyes are open and lifeless, reflecting the red light from a sign above a metal door in the alley.
Her too-blond-to-be-natural hair is fanned around her on the pavement, and although her skin tone is falsely even and colored—either a spray tan or way too much makeup—it’s clear that she’s drained of blood.
“We know who she is?” I ask Sanjay.
“No purse found yet, but Wilson’s still checking the body for evidence.”
Wilson, the forensic examiner, dons fresh gloves, then crouches beside the body. She checks the victim’s bra first, carefully pulling back the clothes. Finding nothing on the right, she scores some of the evidence we’re seeking tucked next to the victim’s left breast—a credit card, driver’s license and phone.
The victim’s breasts are disproportionately large compared to her body and I wonder where women at clubs stash their ID and phones if they don’t have huge boobs to disguise them. I’ve never been into the club scene, only ever seeing inside the places the few times I’ve moonlighted as security. Something I no longer have time for since I joined the task force.
“Karen Chiu.” Wilson reads the woman’s license aloud. “According to this, she’s thirty-two.” Wilson shakes her head, one side of her mouth quirked up, not buying the age for a second. She shines a flashlight on the driver’s license and moves it under the light. “Fake, but the credit card looks real. It’s in the name of Henry Chiu. Father perhaps? Phone’s locked.”
One of her staff holds out an evidence bag, and Wilson drops the items inside.
“Does she have any unusual cuts or marks?” I ask.
“Give me a second,” Wilson says. “Let me work.”
Impatience crawls under my skin as I let the forensics expert do her thing. At least I know that Wilson will check for the mark while we’re here in the alley instead of waiting for the coroner. I’m lucky it’s her tonight and not Falzone. He’s more by the book and I’d have to wait ages to know if the victim’s marked.
I’m the one who first discovered the symbol so many victims have in common, solidifying the serial vamp-killer theory. Hard to believe it had been missed for so many years, but I’m more motivated than the average cop.
All cops hate vampires; in fact, any human who doesn’t hate vamps is a total deviant, but since I’ve got a personal connection, it drives me to look harder, to turn over every stone and see what might slither out of the darkness.
Scouring the files on my own time, I found the connection between all these cases, and convinced the commissioner he should let me onto the task force—the youngest member of the team and the only one who’s yet to qualify as detective.
Poring over the details of more than fifty files, covering two decades, I discovered in the past ten years sixteen of the bloodsucker victims had the same markings as the one that marred Shelly. In fact, the wounds were so similar they had to have been made by the same vamp.
“Here.” Holding up the hem of the victim’s skirt to expose her pelvis, Wilson shines her light there.
The image of my dead sister flashes before my eyes, and my stomach flips. The mark was on my sister’s lower back, not her hip, but the symbol carved into the victim is unmistakable. Two parallel lines with a circle and a zigzag pattern bisecting the cuts at the top.
Like the others, the blood around the wound proves the victim was mutilated before death, carved while she still had blood in her body.
I turn away to make sure none of the others witness my emotions. This monster is not only killing these girls, he’s torturing his victims, inflicting intense pain before sucking them dry.
I will find and kill this monster, even if it means staking every last vampire on the planet.
Chapter 12
Selina
Seventies R & B music pulses through O’Malley’s, harmonizing with the soft chatter from the dozen or so customers tonight. After we had sex, Gray insisted that I do more combat training before we headed over here, but it’s nearly 2:00 a.m., we’ve been here for nearly four hours and Rock still hasn’t talked to me. Not really.
At the bar, he pours a glass of ale for a customer, and grins as he hands it to the hipster man. Rock glances toward me, and I smile, but he quickly looks down, away from me, like he’s embarrassed to make eye contact.
We’ve got to fix this awkwardness between us.
There’s no question in my mind that it’s fixable. Logic tells me that Rock and I will be solid again and soon, but my stomach tightens, seemingly less confident. What if I ruined everything with Rock?
Gray shifts on the bench across from me. He’s barely touched his glass of chardonnay.
“What’s wrong?” Under the table, I slide my foot up his calf.
“What makes you think something’s wrong?” He leans forward. Reaching his long arm under the table, his hand finds my upper thigh. “Want to go downstairs for a fuck?”
His words are crass, but lust flavors his English accent so richly, I can almost taste his question. His delivery is so elegant he might be asking me to dance at a royal ball.
Gray exudes confidence and sophistication—as always—but he’s not his usual self tonight. He seems tired, and I’ve never known Gray to look or act tired. Maybe our training session took more out of him than usual? Or the sex?
“You’re pale.” I cup his cheek. “Your skin’s cooler than normal and drier, I think?”
“I’ll wager you’re not dry.” His long fingers find their way between my legs and stroke over my jeans.
I gasp, then squeeze my legs together to trap his hand.
He grins, and clearly taking the trap as a challenge, not a deterrent, his fingers rub the denim seam so hard and fast the heat threatens to burn through the fabric.
“Stop it.” I shake my head. “People are watching.”
He pulls back his hand and slumps against the bench. “That cop’s watching, you mean.”
“Who?” I feel a blush rise on my cheeks.
“Princess.” He shakes his head. “You know exactly who I mean.”
I glan
ce over, and sure enough, the blond cop’s eyes are focused on me.
He smiles and nods.
I look back to Gray. “What do you think he wants?”
“To fuck you.”
“Oh, really?” I grin. “I hope you’re right.”
“My lady.” Gray clasps his hands to his heart in a melodramatic gesture. “You wound me.”
“As if.” I shake my head.
Gray’s pretending to be hurt by the idea of my attraction to the cop. His indifference hurts, even if it shouldn’t. It’s not like Gray and I have any kind of commitment. Astrid warned me about Gray’s reputation with women—and Gray’s made it very clear he has no plans to settle down with a mate—but when I think about it, I have no idea whether or not he’s been with other women since we met.
I tell myself I don’t care. I can’t lay exclusive claim to Gray’s body, even if I truly love when he drives it inside me. My insides clench at that thought. Taking Gray up on his suggestion to head downstairs suddenly sounds more tempting.
Gray sips his wine, and his nose wrinkles.
“The wine bad?” I ask.
Shaking his head, he sets the glass down. “No. But wine’s not what I want right now.”
“Then order something else.” I look around for Chelle, but she’s waiting on another customer.
“You need to feed tonight?” Gray asks.
I shake my head. Gray taps his long fingers on the table and the subtext of his question dawns on me.
“You’re hungry. Gray, you need to feed. Go.”
He shakes his head. “I’m fine.”
“When did you last eat?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “Can’t say.”
“Then it’s been too long.” He’s been spending too much of his time with me. With the exception of my captivity, since we met, he’s barely been out of my sight during nighttime hours, not to mention the indoor training during daylight hours. “Gray. Don’t you have a job?”