The Vampire King’s Virgin (The Vampire King Series #4)
Page 36
The house was dark. Michelle left her headlights on, letting them illuminate the driveway. She stumbled towards the door in her high heels.
“Cain?” She called out. “Cain, are you here?”
There was no answer. She took the steps to the porch and looked around. It was a small, one-story hunting cabin, simple and rustic. Not like Cain’s normal style at all. She knocked on the door and to her surprise, it creaked open.
Inside, the house was dusty and dark. There was a faded green couch over a bearskin rug, a cold fireplace along one wall and a small kitchen. She could see a bedroom through an open door, but it didn’t look like anyone was here.
“Michelle?”
She screamed and jumped straight up in the air. She spun around and saw a haggard looking Cain.
“Did I kill him?” he asked, his voice thick and slurring. “Did I kill my best friend?”
“No,” Michelle said, shaking her head. She put her hands on his arms and felt that he was shaking. “He’s alive. He’s in the car, but there’s some sort of poison-”
Cain spun around, breaking free of her grip and stumbling towards the car. He opened the back door to reveal Brock, unconscious and splayed out in the back seat. He was covered in sweat and shaking.
Cain pulled his best friend out of the car and hefted him over his shoulder. As gently as possible, Cain carried Brock inside, depositing him on the bed in the bedroom.
“How did you find me?” he asked.
“I’m a witch,” she said looking into his blue eyes. “I always knew there was something magical about you, but I didn’t know what it was. Why did you attack us?”
He hung his head and said. “I lost control. I had been fighting it ever since I heard that you agreed to go out with Brock. I was so angry. I tried to contain the dragon. I came out here to find some peace and quiet and try to control myself. But I couldn’t...” He shook his head. “I lost control. It’s been years since this happened and now I’ve killed my best friend.”
“There has to be some cure for the poison,” Michelle said. “What’s the cure?”
“There is a way, but there’s not enough time. He won’t survive.”
“Please,” Michelle said, reaching across Brock’s prone form. “I have power. Tell me what the cure is and we’ll find a way to do it.”
“He has to complete his transformation. He has to become a Shifter like me. If he can survive it,” Cain shook his head.
“How does he complete the transformation?” Michelle asked.
“There has to be a third. Someone needs to be a conduit. The magic has to pass from me to the conduit and then to the infected,” he looked up at her sadly. “It’s rare that it works. There aren’t that many of us, most don’t survive the change.”
“I’ll be the conduit,” Michelle said. “Let me help you save him.”
“No,” he said. “I won’t ask that of you.”
“I’m not asking for your permission.”
Chapter Ten
Michelle frantically searched through the cabinets. Sage, myrrh, wine, candles. Thankfully, as a fellow Magical, Cain had all of these things within arm's reach. That was the end of his helpfulness. He stood over Brock watching as his friend shivered and writhed in pain. Brock was moaning quietly, sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Pull the bed out away from the wall,” Michelle ordered and thankfully, Cain was able to follow simple instructions. Michelle poured a circle of salt around the bed and then stepped over the barrier. She wasn’t sure what being a conduit included, but she needed to be able to protect herself if it put her in a vulnerable state.
She put a cast iron pot on the floor within the circle and threw in a few ripped out pages from a paperback and lit them on fire.
“Sit,” she ordered Cain and he obliged.
She threw in the sage and myrrh, filling the air around them with a sweet and smoky smell. “I don’t know what to do, you have to guide me.”
“I’ve never...I’ve never done this before,” he said kneeling on the bed.
“Trusts your instincts, they’ll guide you,” Michelle said. She poured a glass of deep red wine and staring Cain in the eye she took a sip, she handed him the cup and he took a sip, after that they lifted Brock’s head and he sipped the wine down as well.
The smoke and herbs were swimming in the air around them. Even though it had only been one glass of wine, she felt a little tipsy. It was a strong wine, but even stronger was the magic she put into it.
She stared at Cain and his aura erupted around him as he squeezed her hand. Below them, Brock’s aura was an undulating white and green, both colors mixing together, but not blending. The green was slowly overtaking the white.
She took Brock’s hand in hers and kissed his knuckles, looking down at his shivering form. Still holding Brock’s hand with her right hand, she took Cain’s hand with her left hand next, and repeated the action, laying a series of kisses along his knuckles.
“Show us the way,” she whispered. “Save him. You know how to do it.”
He leaned forward and kissed her, his hands holding her by the neck and pulling her closer and closer. The herbs and smoke and wine were mingling and she felt that strange weightlessness that came from magic. Spells were otherworldly, they were something else. They didn’t follow the normal rules of the physical world.
She kissed him back as the smoke blossomed and grew. It was more smoke than her small fire could have made. The smoke was thick and swirling, but it wasn’t burning her lungs or her eyes. The smoke was like a hurricane. It was swirling all around them, obscuring everything else in the room. But they were in the eye, the small bed with the three of them was free of smoke, the air was clear.
Everything was clear. Everything was standing out in harsh light. The sensation of Cain’s hands on her body was intense. It was like electricity coursing through her veins, lighting along her skin. She felt charged. She gasped as Cain moved down to her neck, kissing and licking the sensitive skin there. She leaned into him, desperate for more. Her hands were tangling in his hair.
She looked up at him and saw not his crystal blue eyes, but the dark, yellow eyes of the dragon. She was not afraid. She reached up and caressed the skin of his cheek. He leaned into her touch as his hand moved down her neck and to her breasts.
She felt someone behind her. He touched her skin and his touch was fire. She cried out in pleasure, as he traced fire over her shoulders and neck. It was Brock. He was breathing deeply. It was the harsh ragged breath of the dragon. He pulled her back against him. She could feel his erection pushing against her back as his hands came up and captured her breasts.
Brock was laying kisses along the back of her neck and then Cain was in front of her, kissing her mouth, his tongue dancing with hers. The sensations were too much, she couldn’t tell who was touching what, but she wanted none of it to stop.
“Yes,” she cried out, throwing her head back. Cain took the opportunity to lean down and kiss her chest while Brock unzipped her dress. He traced kisses down her back as the zipper went lower and lower. Goosebumps erupted on her arms when Cain pulled the front of her dress down until she was in nothing but her bra and panties.
Brock unsnapped her bra and Cain pulled it off. He took her breast in his mouth. Cain licked her nipple and then bit down gently, making her shudder. She tried to pull away, but that only pushed her back into Brock. They were both so powerful and strong, all of their attention focused on her. Their hands and lips and tongues were moving over every inch of her skin teasing her and driving her wild.
She brought Cain’s head up from her breast and kissed him. The she looked behind her and kissed Brock. She looked between the two men and finally they looked at each other and then they were leaning in and kissing each other while their hands explored her.
It was the hottest thing she had ever seen. These two huge strong men in bed with her. Brocks’ hands pushed her down on the bed and her panties slid off of her.
“Undress each other,” she said quietly. She wanted to watch. She laid on her back and as Cain slipped Brock’s shirt over his head, Brock unbuttoned Cain’s pants. She was so turned on, her body physically ached from wanting them. She couldn't stand to just watch. She reached up to their strong shoulders and pulled both of them down onto bed with her.
They were a tangle of lips and hands and arms and legs. She didn’t know who was who or where they were. There was nothing but the inescapable pleasure of the three of them moving in bed together. She felt someone slip their fingers into her and she arched her back, clinging to someone’s hard shoulders as fingers spun within her. Strong fingers were gentle and teasing, caressing her most sensitive places.
Another set of hands massaged her breasts as a mouth came down to kiss her lips. She was awash in sensations, straining for their touch. Someone’s tongue circled the tip of her breast and she buried her hands in his hair urging him for more. She was writhing on the bed, unsure of where she was and what was happening. Michelle was overwhelmed with the dedicated attentions these two men were paying to her body. She never wanted it to stop.
Cain and Brock were on the bed kissing and touching each other and her. She didn’t know where she ended and they begin. Her orgasm was building up inside of her, growing more powerful with every lick and touch. She arched her back and cried out the word YES! when Cain entered her. Her body strained to contain him. Fire coursed through her veins as he slid into her and began to move in and out in a heady rhythm that matched her heartbeat.
There was something else. She could feel the magic enter her and course through her veins. It was red and green and yellow and it was taking over her body as it moved into her. It felt wonderful and amazing, driving her wild from the inside out. She could do nothing but writhe underneath him and beg for more, her breath catching in her throat. Brock leaned over her and kissed her as Cain continued to thrust.
She slipped her tongue over Brock’s lip and felt the magic pass through her to him. He breathed in the scent of it and kissed her harder, desperate for more. His hands were on her shoulders and then her breasts. She was holding onto him as her orgasm built up inside of her.
A wave of pleasure was passing between them, growing with every second. Every touch and every movement sparking the shared fire within them. They were nothing but pleasure and sex and love and friendship and sweat, all moving together in a perfect rhythm. It was too much, too big for one person to contain. Her body tensed as the last of the dragon’s magic passed through her lips into Brocks’ and the wave of pleasure crested and crashed down on all three of them.
She was awash in pleasure, reaching out to hold onto both of them as her body moved out of control. The smoke around them swirled to a fever pitch. With a dragon’s scream, Cain finished and the spell was broken.
They flopped down in bed, a heap of tangled limbs as the smoke around them slowly dissipated. Brock was to her left, leaning on her bare shoulder and she saw that his fever had broken. He had stopped shaking and his skin was back to its healthy color. He looked normal again.
His aura was different. The bright, innocent human light was gone. Now it matched Cain’s. It was burning with yellows and angry reds that flickered and licked the air around him. They had saved him. Brock was no longer a normal human man. He was a Dragon Shifter now.
*****
THE END
Alien Romance Collection
Given to the Barbarian
Description
Killing is never the answer. Unless you’re a T’Shav gladiator.
T’Shav gladiator Gylden’s job is to kill. Sold to a television network, every second of his life has been filmed. As long as he kills and the public likes him, he lives. It’s a good thing he loves his broadsword so much.
But who’s that delicious human he’s supposed to protect?
Bianca is ready for a fresh start after her abduction from Earth. What she hadn’t counted on was being sold as a slave to a sexy gladiator’s every want. Least of all feel an intense desire for the ruthless alien.
This is definitely not the moment to be feeling so turned on. But all she can think about is to let him throw her onto the bed and ravish her.
But Gylden and Bianca have to do not just one, but two things to survive. First: fight to the death in the Freedom Games. Oh, and second? Kiss on camera to entertain the billions of viewers.
The stakes are high. Desire even higher. It sure as hell isn’t easy to watch him take her whipping for her. Can he rise his broadsword once more to save her curves and their unborn baby?
Chapter One – Gylden
The artificial sun of the arena beat down on Gylden's head, making sweat drip down his shorn head. The wound on his arm, hastily bandaged with a slap of fleshseal, ached with every move he made, but that was his own fault for being so sloppy. He shouldn't have underestimated his opponent.
The T'shav's devil-red body gleamed in the bright light, the pinkish hue of his traluthian steel broadsword muted with sand clinging to the blood he had already spilled today.
His opponent, a hulking, hairy Ernesian was clearly not doing too well with the heat; but if he couldn't make it through a day of training, he wasn't going to survive during a battle day. Not that Gylden cared–in his opinion, they ought to be allowed to kill weaker opponents during training. It was less cruel that way. It would also save the Rayne Five Network some money on feeding and patching up the cannon fodder before they were sent into the arena to die.
But then, the network's viewers liked to see these underdogs die, or be given cheats to help them survive in the arena. Just last week, another T'shav had faced off against a toady Rlabek. The Rlabek was given a blaster and sword. The T'shav was given nothing. But that was because the public loved the Rlabek and hated the T'shav. So, of course the network skewed it in the toad's favor.
Gylden feinted to the left, his opponent clumsily following. The T'shav shook his head. This one wouldn't last more than five minutes in the arena. Unless, of course, he made himself a viewer favorite. But Ernesians were hairy, ugly things, with far too much muscle to be attractive. No, this one didn't have a chance. It was almost a pity.
A long, loud whistle blew. Gylden glanced at the screens that surrounded the arena and saw that they were calling for the gladiators to stand at attention. He quickly took his place and strapped his sword to its place on his back. His heart hammered.
Today was the day when the orders for the next few arena battles would be proclaimed. With any luck, he'd sit out, have a little while free from being forced to kill others–although it was doubtful. His youthful appearance and lean figure, unlike the T'shav's usual bulk, made him a favorite fighter. Not in the way that gave him extra privileges in the arena itself, but the public enjoyed watching him fight.
The small camera drones that were constant to all of them buzzed around the gladiators as they lined up, waiting for the purple-skinned Suesue, Taskus Draw, who hosted the Rayne Five Network arenas, to descend in his usual flare.
As Gylden stood at attention, a few of the drones left the lesser-known gladiators to focus on him. He tried to ignore them, but as the elevator slowly sank in from the sky, his own heart skipped a beat. He had lost track of time with the day in and day out fighting and training, but it was that time of year–these were going to be the Freedom Games.
Once every standard year, various corporations put on their expos, unveiling new technology and the like. The expos always drew in thousands of millions of viewers. And if any of those corporations had human-based experiments, there were sure to be protests, perhaps even an incursion from the infamous Zon Sanctuary to stop them and steal the humans.
Taskus Draw had implemented the freedom games to counteract these distractions a decade ago. During this time, the gladiators were faced with certain tasks. If they survived, then they were granted their freedom from the games and were put on as trainers instead of gladiators.
But what would his task be this year?
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Doesn't matter. I will kill whoever I need to kill.
Although most of the gladiators at the arena were condemned prisoners who chose this as their method of execution, there were others like him who had been raised here. Slaves, trained to fight and kill since they were first brought in. Only the slaves were allowed to participate in the Freedom Games.
If he was right, he would be able to leave the arena battlefields for good.
When the elevator lowered to eye level for the gladiators, Gylden frowned. Taskus Draw stood at the forefront, wearing his expected glittering, skin-tight catsuit that left nothing to the imagination, his three horns strung with garlands. But there were also dozens of women on the elevator platform behind him. There was a mix of species up there. They all wore clothing from their native worlds. Some had slave brandings on some part of their bodies, while the others had clear skin. Drones buzzed around them.
The gladiators rarely saw women in their ranks. Was this Taskus Draw's plan, to have women slaughtered in the arena? Gylden couldn’t believe that would improve ratings. Certainly not when they all looked as terrified as these women did.
The drones turned from emitting a pale blue light to dark red, indicating that they were broadcasting directly to the network instead of the side streaming broadcasts. Gylden attempted to wipe all emotion from his face.
"Gladiators," Taskus Draw boomed in the deep, melodious voice that had won him no less than five awards that year, "you have fought long and hard to be the best you are, and for that, we have brought you rewards."
Some of the women started to cry.
"You each have the chance to choose one of these women as your mates for the next week's Freedom Games. She will be a slave to your every want, but she will also come into the arena with you. You will have to defend her with your lives… but if you both survive by the end of the week, then you will both be given your freedom, and you will be made a trainer rather than a fighter, and you will be provided for, for the rest of your lives."