A Kiss Before Dying

by J. A. Saare

Sebastian quickly removed the last of his clothing, shucking out of his slacks, shoes, and socks. He lifted me from my knees, swept me into his arms, and carried me across the short distance to the bed.

  He settled me atop the pillows so that I was upright and started removing my clothing—shoes first, then garters, followed by the thin black hose.

  “You are beautiful,” he whispered. “Completely breathtaking.”

  “No more than any other, sire.” I gasped, unnerved by his fingers tickling a path down my thighs. He removed the hose, bringing the thin material down my legs.

  “Even more so,” he said and paused to gaze up at me with luminous sapphire eyes. “I wonder why you agreed to share my bed. Knowing you will not return from it on the morrow.”

  Another part of the façade was pretending to be born into slavery, and I answered evenly, gazing into his eyes, “It is an honor. My death will enrich the lives of my family.”

  He looked away while tracing circular designs with his fingers along my calf. “I see.”

  I shivered when he moved up my body and settled his shoulders between my outspread legs. His fingers brushed against the outside of my wet sex, and a new wave of electricity shot through my spine, radiating throughout me. Wetness soaked the area between my legs, coating my sex with pure molten fire and need.

  “Silky smooth,” he growled his approval, fingering my bare sex. Sex slaves were always waxed before they entered the bed, and while it had hurt to have done, the reward of his guttural voice made it all worthwhile.

  “Oh God,” I whimpered, arching my back and feeding my aching core into his palm.

  “So wet for me, so incredibly hot and liquid . . . But are you equally as sweet, Arianna?”

  I stopped breathing, grasping his meaning.

  He refused to look away, vivid sapphire eyes studying me as his face descended. I saw his tongue flick just as he tasted me for the first time, and I cried out loudly. Grinning up at me, he licked again, this time long and deep.

  As I writhed, he told me huskily, “More than sweet. You are delectable.”

  Grasping my hips, he pulled me closer and lowered his eyes. I couldn’t silence the cries and moans that escaped me and clenched the red satin sheets as he tongued, licked, and sucked my sex.

  He rotated between bathing my outer lips and moving inward, tonguing me deeply and then licking me gently. And just when I couldn’t take it anymore, as that pinnacle of release beckoned for the first time in my twenty-seven years of existence, and when I begged him mindlessly not to stop, he did.

  “Remember, Arianna. I want to hear you cry my name.” He latched onto the swollen center in front, sucked my clitoris into his mouth, and bit down gently.

  The entire room disappeared as I screamed, “Sebastian!”

  It was more than an explosion, more than a detonation of the body. It was letting go of the world around me, of floating in a place that existed but remained unseen unless called upon. I rode the waves of pleasure and wanted them to last forever, until slowly, my body ceased trembling and the room came into a blurry focus.

  “I want to take the vein here before I claim you,” Sebastian growled thickly and bestowed light licks upon my thigh.

  Fear almost sent me off the bed. I could mask the scent of my blood, and the taste, but only for a short while. The enchantment affixed to my mask would only work for minutes after the piercing of my skin, until the magic faded.

  “S-sire,” I stammered, high pitched and afraid. “I would prefer a kiss before dying.”

  “I will still give you the same.” He scraped what I knew were fangs along my skin. “But I wish to taste your virgin blood before I take your body. There is a different power held in the blood when the donor is pure. That is why our chosen blood slaves remain such.”

  “How did you—” I struggled to speak, unnerved that he knew of my virginity.

  “I smell your purity,” he answered.

  “Please,” I implored, my limbs trembling violently. “I do not want to feel my death, and I’ve heard stories of those who do not pass properly in sharing before the draining.”

  He hesitated over my thigh, his breath cool and feather light across my skin. “Very well.” He sighed, moving his lips and fangs away.

  He maneuvered up the bed, coming over me. He was much taller and wider, nearly blanketing me as he rested his weight between my legs. His head came forward, and he kissed me, sharing the essence of my body as I shared his. Each nudge of his tongue heightened my senses, and after a moment, I realized he’d bitten his tongue to share his blood with me.

  Although I had taken Sebastian’s blood often as his slave to ensure his scent marked me, sharing blood was a rare gift, one that meant I would experience things with better clarity and enjoyment. It also ensured my final orgasm would last long enough to dim the awareness of my passing.

  I knew my Shellar was kind, but witnessing him performing such a selfless act for someone that was nothing more than a bed slave and a stranger brought a sharp stinging burn to my eyes.

  “Take this off.” He tugged at the corset, lifting his body up.

  I sat upright and bent forward as he came around and untied the strings, working the corset free. He pulled the constrictive garment over my head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. His eyes lingered on my breasts, staring but nothing more.

  “Again, Arianna”—he bent down and brought his mouth to a rosy peak—“beautiful.”

  The tugs of his teeth and mouth against my nipple sent a crash of pure heat to my sex, causing my core to ache and clench uncontrollably. It was as if there was a connection between the two most erotic zones in my body, one enticing and encouraging the other. Each tiny flick of his tongue or nip of his teeth increased the nectar my body created.

  And it was all for him—only for him.

  “Please,” I begged when he moved to the other breast while reaching down with his hand to work a finger into my drenched core.

  “Soon, sweet,” he said, brushing his tongue against my nipple, and pressing his hand against my sex. “I want nothing but pleasure for you.”

  He worked a second finger into my body, forcing my virgin center to stretch and accept the invasion. The hot heat from my excitement wet his fingers, allowing him to slide in and out of my body. It was uncomfortable at first, but soon I was whimpering and undulating, crazed and incensed.

  “You’re very tight,” he whispered, continuing to work my sex with practiced fingers, “As tight as a fist. I can only imagine how you’ll feel, all wet and hot around my cock.”

  His erotic words served as intended. I felt another orgasm building. I started panting as the promise of pure bliss neared, wanting it so badly that I thrust eagerly into his hand and clenched my aching core around his fingers.

  Each penetration of his broad fingers brought the moment nearer until I could feel the pulsating tingles beginning, bristling and rippling under my skin. Then he spread his fingers wide and massaged those tight inner walls, and it was over.

  “ ’Bastian,” I groaned, throwing back my head and crying out as my body erupted.

  My body spasmed as a climax even more powerful than the first overcame me. The combination of his lips and hand were too much, bringing on new levels of pleasure I never knew existed.

  This time, when I returned to my body, I remained lax on the pillows, breathing shallowly.

  Nothing had ever felt so incredible—nothing.

  “So good,” Sebastian purred, removing his fingers, then placing them in his mouth, and licking them clean. “I could get spoiled by the taste of you on my tongue, Arianna.”

  I watched through weighted lids as he slid up my body, licking a path from my belly button to my throat. This was what it all came down to—the consummation. Once he claimed me, and just before he came to orgasm, he would give me my kiss—the bite that would ultimately end my life.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he murmured, as if sensing my thoughts, pressing his lips against each
of my hardened nipples. “I promise there will be no pain.”

  “I know,” I whispered, bringing my hands to his broad shoulders. I knew Sebastian would never hurt anyone intentionally. Not unless it was deserved.

  His hand came between our bodies, and he fisted his cock and worked the rounded head against my wetness. He slid himself back and forth, up and down, and slowly worked himself inside.

  When the large head slid past, his hand came back up to work at my breasts. Then he kissed me, rotating his hips with small gentle thrusts. Each one sent him deeper, bringing him closer to my innocence.

  He brought his hands down, caressed my ribcage, and then grasped my hips firmly. He pulled back, removed his cock from the heat of my body, and waited until he was nearly unsheathed before driving forward in a smooth, firm stroke. My strangled cry was caught in his mouth, and he stopped moving, remaining utterly still.

  As I adjusted to the feel of him snug inside me, he worked his tongue in my mouth and thrummed my nipples with his thumbs. He brought his fingers around, pinching the peaks and soothing the sting with tender flutters. Each motion of his tongue and hands sent prickles along my skin, and soon, the pain was forgotten.

  “Arianna,” he rasped huskily into my ear, “I was right. Your sex is like raw fire, so tight and hot. It’s a most pleasurable kind of torture.”

  I gasped in ecstasy when he began to move. The feel of his long, hard shaft moving in and out of my core was nothing short of extraordinary. And with each joining, I knew I had made the right decision.

  I never could have known Sebastian like this—just like this—otherwise.

  The friendship came first, and then my love, but neither of those emotions matched the intimacy I felt at our bodies being connected so closely together.

  I gazed into his face and wished for a moment that I could remove my mask and reveal myself. Instead, I communicated my love for him through my eyes and motions, rising up to meet each thrust of his hips. He moved his hand down to my sex and fingered the swollen nub in the front, and I felt my body respond and clench.

  “ ’Bastian.” I breathed his name as I neared climax, writhing against him. I wanted to extend this, but my body wasn’t willing to wait.

  “So beautiful, Arianna,” he whispered, rising onto his elbows to watch my eyes and mouth as I came.

  The world shifted and then evaporated into nothing, leaving me soaring. My muscles clenched and released. My throat became dry as I tried to scream but could make no sound. I knew then that my kiss was at hand, that the time had come. Instead of fear, there was only acceptance.

  I felt his teeth pierce my throat as I climaxed, scoring my skin cleanly and deeply. The euphoria of my orgasm mingled with the deep draws at my throat that weakened me, and I drooped against the bed, panting but with shallower and shallower intakes of air.

  I felt him shiver, and the coolness that was his own orgasm erupted inside me. His arms came around to surround me as he drained my life’s blood.

  As he fed, I longed to wrap my fingers in his hair as I always did. Sebastian loved to be petted, especially when he drank. But when I tried, I found I lacked the energy. My languid limbs refused to obey.

  The room dimmed, and I watched the firelight dance across the ceiling overhead, creating shadowy figures and shapes that mingled and crossed together. I listened to the sounds of his rhythmic swallows and lowered my lids when they became too heavy.

  Then, there was nothing.

  * * * *

  My heavy lids lifted, long dark lashes fluttering rapidly against my cheeks. I was disoriented. confused, and tried to remember where I was and how I had gotten there. The room was dark, the fire in the hearth nearly gone out. I shifted and found I was sore, but in the most wondrous and delicious of places.

  Suddenly, the night before came rushing back, and my hand came to my face.

  “Are you looking for this, Katja?”

  I stilled at Sebastian’s voice..

  I remembered the kiss before dying. It was just as I read about. A drifting off that ensured you didn’t feel any pain. I remembered the draws at my neck, the weakness, lethargy, and the moment I had finally surrendered by closing my eyes.

  I died. I knew I had. He drained my very life’s blood.

  Sebastian walked around the side of the bed, tossing my mask and blonde wig onto the floor. He was wrapped in his thick plush black velvet robe, his contrasting blond hair uneven around his neck and broad shoulders.

  The bed sank beneath his weight, and I, anxious and afraid, finally peered up at him. Dying without pain I had contemplated, but what if I were to face more for my deceit?

  Would I experience a slow death with agony?

  “Marietta told me of your plan,” he finally said, regarding me closely, his blue eyes bright in the dark room. “She said you wouldn’t be swayed, regardless of what she said.”

  “It’s not her fault.” I tried to defend the house witch and control my panic. “I would have done so with or without her help.”

  Amused, Sebastian said, “Marietta will receive no punishment. She only aided you because I allowed her to do so.”

  With heart pounding, I found the courage to ask in a low voice, “Why did you allow me to believe that you didn’t know?”

  “Katja,” he murmured, bending over and urging me onto my back. “Do you know why all of our blood slaves are virgins?”

  I nodded solemnly. “Because the blood is pure, meaning it is more potent.”

  He shook his head, moving closer. “No, love, though that is what we tell our blood slaves to make the need for purity credible. It is because vampire royalty cannot claim a bride that comes into a family tainted. Just as they cannot claim a bride that doesn’t freely choose that life of her own.”

  “A bride,” I echoed, frowning.

  “Yes, sweet, a bride.” He smiled and brushed the dark hair that had fallen across my forehead to the side and explained. “Keeping our existence a secret is paramount, but as our numbers dwindle, we are forced to look into the mortal society surrounding us to find eternal companions. The chemistry must be there, of course, which is why we allow a ten-year period for slaves to attach to their potential partner. But only those who would willingly die to be with one of us in the truest sense are worthy of the honor of entering the fold. It is rare, to be sure. None are willing to risk death, even for love.”

  Sebastian stood and removed his robe, allowing the plush material to fall to the floor to reveal his magnificent body. “I am honored to be so fortunate.”

  “B-but,” I stammered in confusion, almost losing my train of thought at the glorious sight of his naked frame as he returned to the bed. “I don’t understand. Bastian, I remember what happened.”

  “Do you, then?” he asked, slightly arrogant, one of his least desirable character traits.

  “Yes.” I glared at him. “I died.”

  “No.” He lowered his head and exhaled against my lips, “You were reborn.”

  His mouth was oddly warm, lips too, and I shoved at his chest in fear. “What’s happened to me? What did you do, Bastian?”

  “I changed you,” he said simply, unrepentant. “You’ve taken enough of my blood in the past to ensure a shift from mortal to immortal upon a draining. While your body transformed, I have sat here in wait, anticipating the moment you finally woke.”

  “Why,” I whispered, slightly afraid. I knew nothing of created vampires, only those born into the condition.

  “I love you, Katja Arianna Morgan.” He spoke with a familiarity that revealed he knew far more about me than I was aware. “I have since I saw you on the platform at Telliandria’s auction. Even then, standing before the lords and ladies with your head held high in your tattered jeans, I knew you were special. Yet, as your time in my keeping passed, I feared you wouldn’t choose to come to me.”

  “You told me we couldn’t be together, Bastian,” I reminded him, recalling the tears I shed when he broke my heart. “You said it could
never happen, that making love to one another meant death.”

  “And I didn’t lie,” he rebuked me tenderly, caressing the curve of my cheek. “You did die—to your mortal life. But in the doing you have been reborn. It is against our laws to tell anyone outside of our kind that only a selfless giving of life is worthy of the gift of the change. Had you not come to me as such, with love and sacrifice, I never could have claimed you as my own.”

  Desperate to hear it, I asked breathlessly, “Do you really love me?”

  He nodded and smiled, flashing fang. “Allow me to show you just how much, Katja. I’ve dreamed of how it would be when we could truly be together. After your show earlier, I know I am not alone in harboring such fantasies.”

  Smiling at the desire in his eyes, I tossed aside the duvet and bared my naked body. The air seemed to sizzle, electrified and charged between us. His lips descended, and I opened my mouth in welcome but found things were markedly different.