Blood Immoral
Page 3
Ah Goddess!
The scent.
The touch.
The power.
Then he withdrew, slowly, the retreat a delicious tease in itself, as her muscles reluctantly released him. He knelt precariously between her thighs in the space offered by the back seat. She flung her right leg around him, holding him steady. He fastened his mouth upon her pussy lips, drinking, tasting. Fingers and tongue explored her, at first separately, then working in tandem to bring her to another peak. He hoisted her legs onto his shoulders and she crossed her ankles around his neck as he savoured her. She shivered at the delight, the only sound in her ears, the labouring of her hearts amid the deliciously sensual erotic lap and smack of his lips upon her lips as he feasted at her slit.
She let him do as he wished. She, who had always been the mistress, now relinquished the power, for once trusting. He brought her to another climax, her essence spilling hot over his tongue, his fingers.
“Babe, your taste…” he whispered against her flesh, the lapping, interspersed with gentle bites.
“This, for you, Ric.” Her hunger assuaged, she touched his temples, brought him pleasure and then a climax that turned him inside out. He screamed and sank against her, spent, unable to move.
She righted him and held him and pumped his cock hard. He smiled, his eyelids tightly clenched, his mouth parted in a snarl. She actually heard him growl! The sound made her shiver. Growling was good.
“Girl, you’re something else.”
That made her smile. She was three hundred and fifty years old—hardly a girl. “Now I have to leave.”
“Not yet.”
She touched his temples again, and sent him the command to sleep. But he resisted. Great Goddess! How could he possibly reject her command? Yet, he did. She sent another command, this time more forcefully and he gasped in pain.
“Forget me,’ she said. “Forget all you saw. F.o.r.g.e.t.”
“Not likely.” He snapped his eyelids open.
Mirra froze in fascinated horror as she saw the slitted green pupils. Green, not black…what the…? He transformed before her gaze into the lean shape of a black jaguar. Then back again to human. Correct that. Not human—shifter.
He grinned lopsided, his green and gold eyes blazing. “You didn’t know?”
“I had other things on my mind.”
“Not notice I was a shifter? I’m mortally offended.”
“Insufferable conceit.”
“Of course. I’m a cat.”
“What are you doing playing the human, the cop…?” Playing! That was an understatement. He had completely deceived her with his disguise. She wasn’t often compromised, and when her sisters found out, there’d be hell to pay. After they finished laughing at her. Then, she’d answer to the queen.
“Well, I’m a cop. Truly. Much more fun than just playing at being human.”
“Cats!” She hissed, her talons descending. Ric took her arms and set them over her head, holding her wrists in one hand.
“Retract those bloody claws of yours.”
“No.” She squirmed to be free. “I’m going to carve you into little pieces.”
“You’re welcome to try, babe.”
“Go to hell and fuck you.”
“I believe I just fucked you.” He grinned, swivelling his hips against her open thighs. “Want it again?”
“I’d rather die.”
“Oh, you won’t die of it, I promise you.” He growled, then purred, a low rumble in the back of his throat that vibrated all the way through her bones.
“Stop that! You play and risk all, not content with the thrill of the chase, hell no, you have to tease and play as a cat plays with a mouse. You’re supposed to declare yourself to Blood-kin. That’s the law.” She grimaced. “Cats!”
“Succubus.”
“At last I played fair with you, not teasing—”
“Sweetheart, you don’t know what tease means. I’m gonna show you.” His finger stroked over her slit.
“Release me.”
“Not yet. I’ve bitten you,” he replied.
Her hair stood on end, her talons extended. “You did not!”
“Yep. When you were screaming your release. Didn’t notice, huh? Tsk.” He laughed. “Not very observant for a demon. But now you’re mine.”
“Afraid not. Takes more than one bite, kitty-cat.” She tore free from his grasp, slapped him across the face and kneed him in the gut. She was aiming for his balls, but he dodged, just in time. She flung him aside and leaped out of the car. Her bare feet hit the broken pavement. She yelped in pain.
“Hey, girl, you can’t run far like that,” he called after her.
Mirra tugged down her clothes, cursing, forcing away the pain of cut feet. “Go fuck yourself, cat!”
“Nope, I’m gonna fuck you. Come back here and I’ll return your boots. Eventually. If you’re a good demon.”
She glanced back over her shoulder and glared. He was propped up on his left elbow, reclining over the bonnet of the car, his naked body bathed in the moonlight, his turgid cock glistening with her essence. For a moment—just a moment—she was tempted to return and do unspeakable sex with him, before she gutted him from throat to groin.
“I’m waiting,” he said.
“Wait forever, you bastard. You’ll pay and pay dearly. What you did was blood immoral. There are laws…”
He laughed with genuine amusement. “All’s fair in blood and sex, sweetheart. Who will be payer and who will be payee? Mirrrrrrrazan.” He purred, then growled, low in his throat.
The growl made her shiver, desire spiralling into every cell—as he intended. Damn him to the coldest pit in hell.
She turned away, the sound of his laughter goading her fury. He had bitten her and a cat’s mark was difficult to overcome. The nip on the back of her neck burned, a reminder that he had marked her for his own. And in the depth of her mind, she felt him lurking, his telepathic bond implanted at the same time as his bite, at the same time as his cock burned into her. Fuck you!
Yes, I’ll fuck you. As often as I want, how I want, when I want. Run, and I’ll chase you, hunt you down. I’m the jaguar and this is my jungle. Run. But I’ll find you, because you’re mine. M.i.n.e.
I am not yours.
No? He purred.
That purr of his… Ignoring the shiver of arousal, Mirrazan ran. She would rid herself of him and deal with the other problems, but psycho vamps and renegades were nothing compared to the difficulties one randy shapeshifter could bring to her life. But there was more than one way to skin a cat, and skin him she could, make him into a hearth rug and trample him to submission. Or, better still, turn his fur into a steering wheel cover for that rust-bucket car of his.
You’re welcome to try.
I’ll tame you, kitty.
Look forward to it, my pussy-pussy.
I am not your pussy! She pivoted on her toes, facing him fists curled, and sent him a string of expletives that only a succubus could utter. There was a moment’s hesitation before his response pierced her mind—a tirade of cat shifter expletives guaranteed to fry whiskers, followed by images of what he would do to her, how, when. All punctuated by that bone-melting growl. Despite herself, she was intrigued.
You can’t do it that way, cat-boy.
Want to bet, my pussy?
Anything you like.
Anything? I love a challenge. Meouw. If I prove I can do it that way, then you’ll stay with me for one hundred days.
One hundred days. That’s the shifter mating-ritual.
He laughed. I’ll meet you at Gothika tomorrow night. Then I’ll show you I can do it to you that way and a hundred other ways besides. One hundred ways for one hundred days. Deal?
In your dreams.
Especially in your dreams, my pussy. If you don’t come tomorrow night, then I’ll stalk you in your dreams. You’ll come tomorrow night—in every way. I’ll teach you how to growl and purr. See you at midnight. If you default
on the blood bond, Mirrazan, you’ll be sorry.
Mirra strode into the night, walking, when her instinct was to run as far away from him as possible. The bite on her nape burned. Itched. Her talon scratched, drawing blood. Oh hell, too late she realised, what she’d done. Her blood sealed the deal. It meant she’d accepted him. Now the link between them couldn’t be denied.
Gothika, huh? Well, two could play at this game, Mirra thought as she walked. She’d make him pay and then she’d be free of him. Put her own spells on him to shrivel his cock and plague his dreams. No male interfered with her, be he man, shapeshifter or vampire. But first she had to face Sula and her sisters and then—the queen.
They will not interfere with you, my pussy. That’s the Law. I have you first.
Yes, that was The Law, time-honoured by all Blood. Mate first, pay later. Others would have to deal with Monica, the rogue vampire and his initiates. Blood immoral ruled, and that meant she and Ric had one hundred days of mating. Mirra didn’t know which would be worse, shifter games and damn mating rituals, or the queen and her punishments. She was marked in every which way.
And there was no way he could fuck her like that. It was physically impossible.
Want to bet on that, too? he demanded, purring, growling.
Cut that out. Cat-boy, you’ve met your match!
Yeah, babe, I like a challenge. Meouw. Grrrrrrrrr.
About the Author
Astrid has been writing since she was five years old and even then her stories were of the “fantastic”: aliens, spaceships, knights on magical quests. Astrid is an award-winning, best-selling author whose works encompass many genres and many formats (traditional print, electronic and POD). Active in s.f. fandom, she has organized s.f./fantasy conventions, edited over 100 fanzines, and run several fantasy ‘fan’ groups. When not writing, Astrid works in her two and a half acre ‘garden’ in rural South Australia.
She has other speculative fiction and paranormal erotica with Extasy Books (Pride’s Passion, Forbidden Nights and For Eternity and 3 stories in the “Violet Visions” anthology) and is working on a five-book mainstream fantasy series of “epic proportions”. She is contracted to edit an anthology (“Fabled Towers”) featuring stories about the Arthurian myth. Astrid is a freelance editor and is contracted by an agency to assess and edit manuscripts.
Astrid invites all readers to her website: www.astridcooper.com and maybe sign her guestbook and/or email her, as she enjoys hearing from readers and other writers!