Must Love Vampires

by Heidi Betts

  “My poor, beautiful, obtuse darling,” he murmured, punctuating the words with a kiss to her temple, her nose, the corner of her rosebud mouth. “It’s called foreplay. And in case you didn’t notice, I enjoyed it quite as much as you did.”

  Her hair was a mass of chestnut curls splayed out across his bedspread, and he couldn’t resist running his fingers through the silken strands. “I love your fragrance, and your flavor, and how you respond to my every touch.”

  He wouldn’t have thought it possible after what they’d so recently shared, but she blushed. Two bright spots of scarlet actually bloomed on her cheeks, and her gaze skittered away, as though she could hide from him even while being pinned securely under his significant bulk.

  “You don’t believe me?” he pressed.

  Lightly gripping her chin, he tipped her face back to his and forced her to meet his eyes. Lifting his other hand, he brushed the knuckles of two fingers—the same two that had been so deeply inside her—across her lips.

  “Taste,” he told her. “Then maybe you’ll understand.”

  He continued to brush his fingers against her lips, then added his mouth, knowing her juices still coated him there, as well. Whether she responded to his prompting or simply the desire to accept his kiss, her lips parted and allowed his tongue to enter. He kissed her long and thoroughly until they were both breathless and the room filled once again with burgeoning passion.

  Of course, his passion had never actually subsided. He was still as hard as a spike, grinding against the soft cushion of her lower abdomen. But her pleasure was more important to him, and he wanted to make sure her first experience with sex after so long without was everything she’d thought, dreamed, expected, and more.

  “I want this to be good for you,” he told her, smoothing the hair away from her face as she stretched like a cat beneath him. “Better than good.”

  A small smile raised her lips. “I don’t think you have to worry. I’m like a sexual camel. I can live on that one orgasm for another ten years, easy.”

  Sebastian burst out laughing. His chest rumbled and he buried his face in the hollow of her throat until the chuckles subsided.

  “I’m very glad to hear that,” he managed after a moment, “but that won’t be necessary, believe me. I intend to give you many more before the night is through.”

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she flashed him a bright smile. “Oh, goody. I’ll store them up for my next extended drought.”

  Slipping his own arms under her back and pulling her flat to his chest, he bit back a growl of feral possession. “Maybe there won’t be a next time.”

  She didn’t say anything, but he could see her thoughts flitting through her eyes like a movie on the big screen. She was thinking that he was a vampire—a real, live (ha! well, you know . . .) vampire—when she hadn’t really believed they existed . . . that this was all moving way too fast . . . she didn’t know him, he didn’t know her . . . maybe it was just a dream, and she would soon wake up to a much more boring and much less pleasurable reality. . . .

  All the same thoughts were ticking through his mind, and though he never would have expected to feel so strongly about a mortal woman in such a short amount of time . . . the fact was, he did. He was thinking forever, here, and for him, that was a very long time. It could be for her, too.

  But that discussion would come later. At the moment, he had more pleasuring to do. For both of them.

  Four of a Kind

  “I don’t have condoms on hand,” Sebastian said. “I can get them, if it will make you feel better, but just so you know, I’m clean. Extremely so. Vampires—”

  “Hey,” Chuck interrupted, rolling her eyes even as she rubbed her leg lazily up and down his hairy calf. “This is not some run-of-the-mill Vegas chippy you’re talking to. Or even a run-of-the-mill tabloid reporter. I’ve done my homework. Vampires can’t carry blood-borne human diseases or transmit them to others. And pregnancy is a non-issue.”

  He looked both amused and impressed by her recitation of vampire factoids. Oh, yes, she was an ace reporter, all right. And when all of this was over, if he left her so much as a shred of her memories, she was going to write the mother of all exposés about spending the night with him. She would title it I Slept with a Vampire or In Bed with a Bloodsucker, or maybe The Richest Vampire in Vegas.

  What a shock it would be for the world to find out that the owner of one of the busiest, most successful casinos on The Strip was really a lord-knew-how-old immortal who drank the blood of innocents to survive. Well, okay, maybe not innocents. She wasn’t exactly sure what—or who—he “ate.” They hadn’t gotten that far yet, but she certainly intended to ask at the first nonsexual opportunity.

  “Actually,” he intoned, splaying his fingers behind her back to casually stroke the slope of her spine, “that last isn’t entirely true. We have been known to reproduce. Rarely, and under very precise circumstances, but it can happen.”

  She raised a brow, her investigative instincts kicking in. Where was a notepad when she needed one?

  “Really?” she asked, not bothering to hide her curiosity.

  “Yes, really,” he said with a grin, obviously enjoying her keen interest. “I’ll explain it to you sometime. But not . . . now.”

  Faster than she could blink, he had her up and over him, and he was flat on his back. His knees cushioned her bottom, his erection pressing eagerly between them.

  Staring down at him through the curtain of her hair as it cascaded around her face, she did blink then. She wasn’t even shocked by the move, by the suddenness of being horizontal one second and vertical the next. If anything, these little superpowers of his were growing on her, and she found them both fascinating and convenient.

  “That was quick,” she said. “I just hope being fast on the draw doesn’t translate to everything you do.”

  He canted his pelvis, driving his arousal even higher against her. “Oh, I can go slow, believe me. And if you’re not satisfied when I’m finished, I guess I’ll just have to start over.”

  She envisioned his doing just that, and a shiver rolled through her. She could imagine him doing slow things and fast things and everything in between, and she wanted them all.

  A tiny cheerleader inside of her that she’d never known existed gave her pom-poms a shake and whooped, “You go, girl!” Quite a switch from the bookish, four-eyed president of the debate club she’d been living with for the past ten years.

  But if she was going to kiss her celibacy goodbye, she might as well do it in a big way. And doing the nasty with a hot, sexy vampire with wicked-sharp fangs and superhuman strength was about as big as it got.

  Leaning down, she let her hair fall around them while she kissed him with every ounce of pent-up passion she hadn’t let loose with anyone else in a very long time. Her palms rested flat on his broad chest, feeling the warmth of his skin—were vampires normally warm-blooded, or did that mean he’d recently fed? Ick, better not to think about that right now—and the play of his sleek, hard muscles beneath her fingertips.

  His own hands wandered along her buttocks, her thighs, her waist and breasts, and back again, over and over. Every inch of Chuck’s skin tingled like it had pins and needles, her blood humming as though he’d already bitten her and imbibed her with a bit of his own immortal essence that gave her powers beyond her wildest imaginings.

  She could certainly do with an extra dose of strength, heightened senses, the whole works. But at the moment, the only thing she was feeling was mega-horny. Was that a superpower? And if it was, did it come from her . . . or from him?

  Vampire or not, Sebastian did have powers—the power to make her crazy with desire, senseless with wanting him.

  Reaching between them, she grasped his erection and arranged herself so that she hovered just above him, teased the tip of that hard, hot length of satin-over-steel with her wetness. He moaned against her mouth, raising his hips in an effort to push farther inside her.


  She thought about toying with him. Pulling away only to lower herself ever so slowly again, inch by excruciating inch.

  But torturing him would only torture her, as well, and what was the point of that? He’d already given her a very generous orgasm; she not only wanted another—or another half dozen, if they could manage it—but wanted to give him a hefty dose of mind-blowing pleasure, too.

  Curling her nails into the firm planes of his pecs, she blew the air out of her lungs in short little huffs as she moved her hips down and covered him all the way to the root.

  When she was fully seated, when he was buried inside her as far as he could go, they both sighed. It was bliss. Complete and total satisfaction. Not in the big-bang way, but in a way that simply made her go ahhhhhh.

  She could have stayed that way the rest of the night, the rest of her life . . . except . . . she didn’t want to. She wanted to move.

  Fast.

  And hard.

  Sebastian must have read her mind, because his hands went to her hips, gripping tightly. She bit her bottom lip, savoring the sensations as he lifted her slightly . . . and brought her back down. Lifted her . . . and brought her down.

  She threw her head back, letting her hair dance down her back, letting her breasts lift and her eyes slide closed. His hands guided her movements, but she was more than a willing partner, using her knees and thighs to ride him.

  They went slowly at first, a long, languid up-and-down glide. Something else she could have done forever, if not for the build of exquisite friction between them. It sped up her breathing and made her stomach clench in anticipation.

  All of her muscles clenched—in her legs, her abdomen, her fingers as they curled like talons into his chest, and those that wrapped around him so intimately. He groaned, hitching his pelvis up as she came down, and they both hissed.

  Next thing she knew, Sebastian’s face was a hairsbreadth from her own, his warm breath dusting her cheeks and fluttering the ends of her hair. Shifting beneath her, he rearranged himself so that they were locked together like puzzle pieces.

  Her breasts pressed against his chest. A fine sheen of perspiration coated them both, making their skin slick and salty. She smelled it when she inhaled, tasted it when she put her mouth to his shoulder.

  She linked her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, hugging him tight, while he clasped her back. They moved together in perfect symmetry—hot, grinding, X-rated symmetry, but symmetry all the same.

  He used his hands, his arms, his entire body to lift her, then bring her down again, harder and harder each time. His thighs cushioned her. His lips brushed her throat, followed by the scrape of his tongue and teeth—those wicked, glorious fangs that scratched, but never broke the skin.

  “Sebastian,” she panted, even as the pounding increased, threatening to steal the breath from her lungs completely.

  He grunted in reply, his fingers flexing at her waist, his hips tilting higher to meet her downward thrusts.

  “Sebastian,” she said again as the tension grew. Her arms and legs tightened around him while everything else tightened inside of her. She could feel the climax coiling at her center like a cyclone. She was almost there, so close, her head was beginning to spin.

  But something was missing. Something scary and dangerous and elemental that she shouldn’t be thinking about, shouldn’t want . . . but did. Desperately.

  “Bite me, Sebastian,” she murmured, sure he could hear her no matter how soft the words because of his keen vampire hearing. “Please.”

  His entire body jerked in her embrace, head coming up and gray eyes piercing through hers. He stopped moving, making her moan with disappointment, but if anything, his grip on her grew even more taut.

  “What?” he bit out in a strained, gravelly voice.

  Tipping her head, she shook her hair back over one shoulder and bared her throat. Even she could feel the pulse beating there like a tribal drum. “Bite me,” she said again. “I want you to.”

  He shook his head and pulled back slightly. His mouth was a flat line, and she could practically see the wall going up between them. Not that she had any intention of allowing it.

  Running her fingers through the tousled black hair at his temples, she took hold of his head and held his face directly in front of her own. His gaze met hers, and she saw the battle taking place there, in his mind and his heart.

  “No,” he told her, shaking his head despite her hold on him.

  “Why not?” she wanted to know.

  “It’s too soon. You’re not ready.”

  “I am, and I want it, Sebastian. As much as I want you.”

  “No,” he said again, trying to sound firm, trying to sound resolute, but Chuck thought she heard a waver of indecision there . . . of longing.

  “If you’re going to wipe my memory come morning, then we only have tonight. This is my one chance for the full ‘hot vampire sex’ experience. I’m not afraid,” she reassured him. “And I know you won’t hurt me.”

  Shifting in his lap, driving his rock-hard cock even deeper inside of her, she did her best impression of kudzu, wrapping around him like a sticky, swarming vine. She wasn’t letting him go until she got what she wanted—what she knew they both wanted.

  “I know you want to,” she whispered, pressing her mouth to his ear and his mouth to the side of her throat. “Do it, Sebastian. Please.”

  A low, heartfelt growl rolled up from his chest. She could feel the fight of desire versus apprehension playing out within his conscience.

  Desire won out. With a groan of defeat, his mouth opened wide at her neck, covering the muscles and tendons that ran along her jugular. His warm breath dusted her skin, his tongue darting out to taste the pulse point a second before the tips of his fangs ran over the same spot.

  And then her skin was broken, his teeth were sinking deep, and her blood was pouring out, pounding through her veins and into his waiting mouth.

  She moaned at the sensation, eyes sliding shut. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. The room was spinning even behind her closed eyelids, making her lightheaded, but in the very best way. Heat rushed through her, making her fingers and toes and everything in between tingle.

  And the “in between” was incredible. Rising up over her, Sebastian tipped her to her back, then pressed her into the mattress with his broad, heavy frame.

  His mouth never left her throat, the slow, methodic suckling as he drank almost like another sensual invasion. She would have the mother of all hickies come morning, she thought dazedly, wondering if he could erase that as easily as he’d promised to erase her mind.

  While her lifeblood filled him, he filled her, moving again, sending banked passions flaring to blazing life. He drove into her, no longer gentle, no longer solicitous of her response or weighing every touch and stroke.

  Her blood—or maybe just blood itself, regardless of the donor—had changed him, turned him feral and sexually ravenous. And she loved it. He couldn’t hold her tightly enough, bite her deeply enough, pound into her hard enough.

  She dug her heels into his spine, twisted her fingers in his hair, met his violent thrusts with the lift and tilt of her own hips. And her lips urged him on, though she had no real concept of what she was saying. Yes, yes . . . God, yes . . . please don’t stop sounded about right, but that might have been all in her head.

  Her only clear thought was of the orgasm racing toward her like a tidal wave. She wanted to catch it, throw herself into it, ride it wherever it cared to take her for as long as she could . . . and to bring Sebastian with her.

  And then she was there, screaming as ecstasy slammed into her, taking her over the edge and into the abyss. Surge after surge of pleasure struck her, rolled through her, making her writhe against the satin sheets and shout Sebastian’s name.

  He was there with her. A moment after her climax began, he clasped her close and released her throat as he stiffened and came. Shudders wracked him as he convulsed above and in
side of her, and she welcomed every arch, every quake, every squeeze of his fingers on her buttocks.

  Minutes ticked by before their bodies stilled and their breathing returned to normal, but even then, Chuck felt far from ordinary. Sebastian might clear her mind of any memory of tonight, but she suspected that deep down in her heart and soul, she would always remember that something had happened this evening. Something different and special and life-altering.

  As heavy as they felt, she forced her eyes open, noticing the touch of color just beginning to spread across the far end of the night sky, well past the neon lights of downtown Las Vegas. Morning already, when it seemed only moments ago that she’d been squeezing into Chloe’s costume.

  Morning! The thought—as well as its implications for the man still draped on top of her—registered, and she started to sit up with a jerk. But then a sudden cranking sound filled the room, and thick steel panels slid down over the glass windowpanes.

  “It’s okay,” Sebastian muttered, levering himself up a scant few inches and rolling to his side. Fighting with the covers they were still sprawled on top of, he tugged them loose, then got the two of them tucked comfortably underneath. “They’re on a timer. Down just before sunrise, up just after sunset.”

  So that’s how he managed to avoid sunlight in a penthouse framed by nothing but windows. What a smart man. Smart, and rich enough to afford the very latest in vampire safety technology.

  “Gotta sleep,” he said, sounding sleepier by the minute. Not that she blamed him; she was feeling all kinds of relaxed and ready for a nap herself.

  His arm snaked around her waist, yanking her snug against him, her back to his chest. “Don’t go anywhere,” he mumbled, burying his nose in her hair and his lips to the nape of her neck.

  “Aren’t you going to erase my memory now?” she asked quietly. Now that he’d had his way with her, drunk her blood, given her more pleasure than any ten mortal men combined could ever dream of offering . . .

  “Later. Sleep now,” he slurred, his voice growing softer in the darkness. “Stay. Sleep.”