When I blinked, we were inside an unfamiliar room, with cream colored walls. The lighting was soft, only from a small lamp next to a big, heavy, wooden bed that I couldn’t wait to get into. The furniture was minimalist, and appeared both old and handmade. It was my first look at how he lived, and I took in every detail. There were no windows in the room.
“No windows to avoid sunlight?” I asked.
“That's right,” Bennet replied, and laid me down, again in a flash of inhuman speed. His cock pressed between my legs, teasing, with only the fabric of his pants between us. The mattress was soft, with a fluffy, white comforter that enveloped me like a cloud.
He held my arms above my head, his hands on my wrists. His eyes burned as he looked me over, devouring me first with his red-hot gaze. Gentle yet sharp, his fangs scraped my skin as he trailed slow kisses down my neck. The feel was perfection, a promise of the bite to come. His hands inched down my arms, to the top button of the coat. My breasts ached beneath, begging for his fingers, his tongue.
Waiting was torture, as he took his time on each button. I rocked my hips up against the ridge of his pants. Slow. Too slow.
Every inch of bare skin that was exposed as the coat was opened, Bennet kissed. He went right between my breasts, leaving them covered by the heavy leather. I pulled on the edges of the coat, to expose more. But he stopped me, with his palms gently on my hands.
“This time we take it slow,” he said, gifting me a sexy grin.
Again another inch, down to my belly button his soft lips kissed. I tilted my hips against his chest, enjoying the feel of him. He pulled away, and I mourned the loss.
“Bennet-”
“Slow,” he said. “First I get to savor you. Then, when you can’t take it anymore, I’ll give you what you want.”
“I want it now,” I said, giving him my best pouty lip.
Bennet undid the last button, and kissed down my thigh, teasing the other with his hand. I spread my legs. “Touch me,” I begged.
His hands slid slowly up to my breasts, gently massaging the nipples between thumb and forefinger. I moaned as tendrils of pleasure moved through me, increasing my need. His tongue teased first, everywhere but where I needed him.
“Please,” I begged.
And he obliged, moving softly between my lips.
“Faster,” I said, “please.”
His tongue moved expertly over my clit, circling, flicking. I knew I wouldn’t last long. I squeezed the pillowy comforter in my hands and gave in to the pleasure he gifted me. “Bennet,” I cried, as he went faster and faster. Electricity built and carried through me, overwhelming my senses. My muscles tightened and pulsed. It was so different from the park, so soft, so warm. There was no fear for his life, or mine. There was Bennet and me, and all the time in the world.
When my muscles relaxed, I looked up at him, to where he stood beside the bed, unbuttoning his shirt. The silky, tattered fabric dropped to the floor, and he undid his belt, his zipper, and let his black suit pants fall. His cock sprang free—huge, hard, and pointing right at me. I laid still, and took in his perfect form as I tried to catch my breath. I looked at the tattoo on his chest, the wolf of his clan. It looked just like me.
“Ready for more?” Bennet asked.
“Mmm.” I nodded.
He pulled my thighs, bringing my hips to the edge of the bed. His tip teased my opening, the soft skin just right. “Wait,” I said.
Bennet looked at me, questioning. I rolled onto my stomach, and placed my feet beside his.“To mate,” I said. “We do it like this. And you bite me, hard enough to leave a scar.”
His cock teased my opening, and his fingers touched my swollen clit. I held onto the soft blanket, and buried my face as he pushed inside. Slowly he inched, leaving me wanting every time he pulled away.
“Bennet,” I said, into the soft, white fabric, as his cock pressed deeper and deeper inside of me. He leaned forward, and wrapped his arms around me, holding my breast with one hand and touching my clit with the other. His body was cool against mine, dry where I beaded with sweat. He was the perfect complement to me, the perfect fit. Each inch he pushed in, he pulled back out. And somehow his cock felt bigger than it had before. “Bite me, and mark me as your mate,” I said.
He pressed in hard, and I gasped as I took his entire length. His cock felt so good inside of me, exactly where he belonged. Each stroke was faster, more intense, building another climax that I knew would soon come.
“Bennet,” I cried. “Yes.”
“Hannah,” he growled, speeding his thrusts. “I will love you for all of eternity.”
When his teeth pierced my neck, the sensation sent me over the edge. Stinging pain mixed with blinding pleasure. There was the metallic scent of my blood as he fed, the pull through my veins, while bliss washed over me from my fingertips to my toes. My core squeezed, and I was lost in the moment, lost in our connection, lost in Bennet. Our bond was sealed.
And I realized, as my mate held me in his arms, that I too had gotten everything I’d wanted.
Epilogue
Hannah
If you'd have told me two years ago that I'd have brought home a guy I'd met in college, I'd have laughed. I'd picked Scarlet Harbor because there were no shifters. And what were the chances that I'd have chosen a mate that wasn't a shifter?
But here we were, Nowheresville, Vermont, me and my vampire mate, sitting in the driveway in front of the house I'd grown up in. My dad peeked his head through the curtains for the third time.
“It'll be okay,” Bennet said. “I'll be with you the whole time.”
“I know,” I replied.
“If we don't go in soon,” Bennet said, “they're likely to come out.”
“Seems like it,” I said, and waved to my father, who smiled wide and waved back. “Okay. Let's do this.”
The house looked smaller than I'd remembered, but the fresh scent was beyond anything I had expected. There was a floral tone under the earthy smell of trees and freshly cut grass. There was no smog, no trash. Just nature.
Mom and Dad stood on the front porch, beneath the little light swarmed by tiny flying bugs. My father's arm rested over my mother's shoulders. Bennet laced his fingers in mine. I took one last deep breath, and led the way. When we reached them, I'd nearly forgotten the worry I'd felt the whole way here.
“Hannah,” my father wrapped his arms around me, squeezed, and lifted me like I was five years old all over again.
“Hi, Dad,” I said, and hugged him back.
“It's Bennet, right?” My mother asked.
“Yes, ma'am,” Bennet said, and offered her his hand. “Mrs. Lewis.”
“Please,” she said. “call me Pat.”
“Okay,” he said. “Nice to meet you, Pat.”
Dad put me down and reached a hand to Bennet. “So tell me just how old you are, son.”
“Glenn,” my mother scolded, as she elbowed him in the side.
“It's fine,” Bennet said. “I'll be one hundred and thirty-four this Tuesday.”
“See,” Dad said, “not even that old. I told you.”
“Dad.” This time it was my turn to scold him.
“What?” he said. “Did she tell you that we live that long, easy? A couple hundred years is normal for shifters.”
“He knows,” I said.
“Do you want to come in?” Mom asked. “I mean, you're invited obviously.”
“He doesn't need to be-”
“Now look,” Dad said. “It's you that's going to offend him.”
“I assure you, I'm not offended,” Bennet said. “We'd love to come in.” Yes, I thought, totally not sarcastically, love to.
Mom cooked her roast rare, thinking that it would be better for Bennet. He ate, though I told her that he didn't need to. Explaining how he did feed was a bit awkward, when I had to talk about me being his only food source. I left out the part about finding it hot, and that it led to the best sex of my life. I mean, these are my parents
we're talking about. It was a learning process for them, just like it was for me. But my parents took Bennet in with open arms. It was all that I could have asked for. We slept in the basement while we stayed, and my father took to Bennet more than he ever had to any shifter boyfriends I'd had in high school. When the subject of grandkids came up, I totally evaded. Bennet is completely convinced that vampires can't have kids at all. I'm not so sure. He doesn't know any other shifter-vampire couples, so who's to say? My parents ask us to come home for every holiday, which we do for some. Every Christmas we make it a priority.
It took less time than I thought it would to get used to Ashley being Queen of Scarlet Harbor's vamps. We made time for each other while I finished my business degree—trash TV once a week, and sleepovers at her place. After I graduated, I started my own online business. I do what I've always been good at. I make single-serving deserts, microwave-style, and sell them online. It's really worked out well, and makes a steady income.
I said goodbye to my apartment, and moved in with Bennet into his amazing house overlooking the water. It's two stories tall, built of stone, with beautiful hardwood floors. The place was practically empty when I got there, since the only time Bennet had spent there was to sleep. He was happy to let me pick furnishings, though I could tell by his reactions that he preferred the classic pieces to the modern ones. Every morning we sleep in the basement bedroom that's safe from sunlight.
For a few hours every night, Bennet has to work. Ashley assigned him to 'Safety Patrol,' which just means that he has to walk the city and make sure everything seems safe. I like to go too, sometimes, if I don't have too many orders to fill for my Chocolate Hug in a Mug business.
We still haven't agreed upon what happens two hundred years down the road, if at some point I should become a vampire too. What had Ashley called it? Wolffang. But I figure that if that's our greatest concern, we've been lucky. No matter what the future holds, we have each other.
Ashley
So soft. I enjoyed the velvety feel of the cushiony seat on my throne. That big guy had some decent taste. Though I was still surprised that the palace wasn't decorated in more black. I mean I liked everything that was there. It just wasn't what I'd expected for the ruler of vampires.
“So explain this again,” I decreed. “Why am I not Queen of all the vampires?”
Walter looked down at the ground the way he liked to do when he got grumpy.
“Walter,” I said. “There's way worse duties that I could give you.”
“There are better teachers,” he replied. “More... patient.” He spoke between gritted teeth and that little blood vessel throbbed on his forehead.
“So you've said,” I replied.
“I could bring you someone more qualified, if you'd only allow-”
“I like you,” I said. “Now answer the question. Why am I not Queen of all vampires?”
“Like I've explained,” he said. “There are many factions. There are loners, and conquerors, small territories and large. Our kind does not do well in too large of numbers.”
“It seems like it would make more sense. Or at least if everyone played by the same rules,” I said. “Like I have my minions. You have yours. Let's just leave things alone. You know?”
“Too many wish to collect power. You should know,” Walter said.
“I just said 'you have yours.' That's pretty much agreeing not to try stealing from others,” I said.
“I meant Yeke.”
“Ohhhh,” I said. “I can see where you're coming from. But that guy was totally going to kill you guys. You should say thank you.”
“Thank you.” His dry tone told me he was not sincere. But I liked him grumpy just fine. And I liked his progeny even better.
“Good enough,” I said. “Show me some more fighting stuff. I want to be tops at like, everything.”
“Again,” Walter said, “I could provide you a better-”
“Go,” I said, and leapt from my soft seat.
Walter bolted, fangs drawn. The blade in his hands was short but sharp. His stance was low, ready. He darted to my side and swung his blade. With a flick of my wrist, he flew across the room, back thudding as he hit the stone wall.
“See what I mean?” I asked. “It's like I can't help but do that every freaking time. I need some different moves. Let's go again.”
Walter sighed as he rose again to his feet. “As you wish.”
After a few rounds, I grew tired of practice and searched for my favorite plaything. Up the stairs I traipsed, down the hall, and into the expansive bedroom that now belonged to me. In my four-poster bed, on top of the silky red covers was a beautiful blond present, waiting just for me. His legs were crossed, arms folded behind his head, and his gorgeous chest was exposed. As I stepped a little closer, I found that it wasn't just his chest.
“Hello, your majesty.”
“Hi, Charlie,” I said, taking in his chiseled deliciousness one inch at a time.
I pounced and tasted him, sweet and mine. It's good to be Queen.
Also by Keira Blackwood
Vampires of Scarlet Harbor
Pierced
Hunted
The Sawtooth Peaks Series
The Sawtooth Peaks Complete Series Box Set
Running to the Pack
Defending the Pack
Uniting the Pack
Protectors of the Pack
The Protectors of the Pack Complete Series Box Set
Bodyguard
Enemies
Heir
Continue reading for previews of Hunted and Running to the Pack!
Hunted: Chapter One
Walter
There are hunts that lead only to sustenance. And there are hunts that lead to satisfaction. The former is the product of convenience—a wide-eyed girl lost in a dark alley, a witless drunk stumbling toward his car, a prostitute who offers anything for a few quid. The latter, the prey that means something, the chase that requires effort—that’s what I sought.
Blinding headlights flashed as the black SUV turned onto Maple Lane. I didn’t have to see past the light to know it was them. Just as he did every night, the meathead swerved across the empty road and slammed the vehicle into park. Even from two blocks away I could feel the thrum of the bass reverberate through my chest. He always waited for the song to finish.
The tall one climbed out first, sweat glistening on his tan skin under the streetlight. The meathead followed. The harsh beams of light cut out, and the meathead slammed his door. The taller of the two was fit and agile, where the other was brute force. Still, it was the taller one that held the most strength. It was his stamina, the way his roommate crashed after dinner, while he went back out for a run. It was his alertness as much as his profession. Police officer—my mark.
I’d chosen this waiting place the night before, when I’d first spotted the patrol car. Two blocks from my mark’s house, I hid in the shadows. The feathered branches of the willow tree offered perfect cover. No cars were in the driveway—no one to see me. The house was dark. The yard was dark. And it was right along the officer’s running path.
It had become increasingly difficult in recent weeks to get a moment’s peace. Between my attempts to train the new queen in combat, and those to explain the subtitles of vampiric etiquette, little moonlight was left for anything else. Had the queen attended to my words, my job would have been easier. As it was, this was my escape.
The two went inside the house. An hour later, one came out. The officer shut the door softly after stepping out onto the top concrete step, careful not to disturb his snoring roommate. He reached high above his head, stretching from his arms down to his toes. He lifted his left leg up onto the brick, high above his head. He did the same with his right. Then he ran.
I listened to the beating of his heart as he sped past. Elevated just slightly from exertion, the rhythm was steady and strong. He passed without noticing me, just as he always did. Just like everyone did. Following the
officer was easy. A shadow in the dark, I was death itself. Reaper. Cat toying with a mouse. But tonight would come the finale. Tonight, I was no longer just a shadow. Tonight, I claimed my prize.
He traversed hills, residential streets, the city’s busiest motorway, and an outdoor shopping mall before reaching the park. I remained close.
His pulse thrummed in time with his feet. It was a primal song as basic to nature as breathing, as feeding. The officer passed under the final lamppost before the paved path was shrouded by trees. Tall branches shielded the moon and stars from view, and with them, the remaining shreds of light. And after the last bystander passed, I struck.
It would have been simple, easy to tear him down before he even saw me. But I’d been looking forward to this hunt too much to allow it to end so quickly. I savored the struggle, the competence that he showed. So I gave him a chance, and grabbed his wrist.
His skin was warm, damp from sweat, and full of life. His shoulder jerked as I held his arm in place. He twisted his body around to face me, a quick recovery for the jolt of a stop. I watched the gears turn in his head as surprise transformed into rightful terror. His brown eyes went wide, as his heartbeat quickened. His mouth opened, and I knew a yell was meant to follow.
“You will not scream,” I commanded. “You will not speak.”
His mouth closed. I could have told him not to fight. I could have forced him to obey. But what fun would there be in that?
His fist balled, and he pulled back to strike. I let the punch land, his knuckles against my jaw. The impact stung, an aching contusion that made me feel. I reveled in the sensation, and yanked the wrist I still held. He slammed into me. I could taste his fear, and it was divine.
He threw another punch—this one landed on my shoulder. Again, I felt pain. His fighting spirit was exactly what I’d needed.
I ripped his head down and to the side, exposing his throbbing carotid. It pulsed, calling to me. My fangs descended. It was everything I’d hoped for. All that I’d imagined. I held him still in my arms, scraped razor-like teeth over tender flesh. He fought, and writhed. Blood beaded to the surface, sweet and tempting. I opened my mouth, ready to take what I’d earned, ready to renew my life with his.
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