Maslow's Needs

by Sheri Gilmore

  She batted her eyelashes at him and gave her best fake Southern belle accent. “Why, you don’t want little ol’ me to obey your every command?”

  He snorted and rolled his gaze to the roof. “Yeah, like that will ever happen.”

  Jessi’s mouth opened. She placed her hands on her hips. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “That you are the most independent, stubborn woman I’ve ever met.” He stepped closer and slid an arm through hers, pulling her flush with his body. “You don’t obey anyone, but I’m going to love trying to teach you.”

  The press of his hardened cock against her abdomen sent chills down her spine. His mouth took on a smirk at one side, indicating he knew exactly how she would react to his aroused state. In an instant, the smile disappeared and the serious expression returned.

  “Will you see me while I’m in New Orleans?”

  She nodded with a shiver; he released her. Her happiness soared for a second, then crashed and burned just as fast. “You do ... care about me?”

  “I’ve asked you to date me.” His jaw clenched tight.

  Anger replaced uncertainty. “Well, all that silent dominance stuff might work on those goth-vamp girls, but you’re gonna have to loosen up and do some talking to get a Southern belle. We like romantic nothings whispered in our ears.”

  He hung his head for a few seconds, then scrubbed a hand over his face and through his hair. He looked into her eyes. His gaze softened. A look unlike she’d ever seen since knowing him. “Yes, I think I care about you.”

  “Think?” She pulled away, feeling the prick of tears behind her eyelids. One second he suggested living together, practically married, then he says, I think! It wasn’t enough. She couldn’t give herself, her body, to any man in the way she knew Drayden would insist she give if he didn’t care for her.

  “Jessi ...” He touched her arm. “I’ve never let a relationship get this far.” He raked a hand through long black hair. “Every time I got close to a woman, I would remember my parents’ miserable lives, always fighting, always drinking.”

  Jessi heard the pain in his voice, saw the fear on his face. Her strong, bold vampire warrior had a weakness ‑‑ love. Regret replaced her anger. “It’s okay. We’ll just take one day at a time.”

  Surprise replaced the fear on Drayden’s face. He stroked a finger down her cheek. “I do know I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone else.”

  Soft, simply spoken words, but that’s all it took. She slid her hand into his, willingly, leading him to her aunt’s house. She stepped through the doorway, but he stopped. Jessi frowned up at him. “What’s wrong?”

  His gaze glittered with malicious humor. “I’m a vampire. You have to invite me in.”

  She punched him in the arm. “Drayden Maslow, get your ass in this house.”

  “Ow, woman.” He shied away when she pulled her fist back again. “I’m going to have to tie you up and spank you later.”

  With a laugh, he ducked down and slung her over his shoulder, tripping across the threshold and into the cool recesses of the old house, with Jessi screaming in laughter all the way.

  Epilogue

  Jessi lit the last candle. The walls danced in the eerie light cast by the red and black candles situated around the room. Her skin tingled with excitement and anticipation of what she intended to do tonight ‑‑ the Long Night.

  Tonight many houses and covens gathered to celebrate the longest night of the year and recognize the newest members of their community. After tonight, she would be recognized, maybe not as vampire, but close enough.

  “Ready?”

  Jessi smiled and turned to Drayden’s voice filled with warmth and excitement.

  “Yeah. You?”

  He moved toward her, his body lithe and graceful beneath the fall of his robe.

  The sight made her breath catch. How she’d managed to capture this man’s attentions, she would never understand.

  His arms wrapped around her waist, and he buried his face against the side of her neck. “Umm, you smell good.”

  Jessi smiled and curled her neck inward at the tickle of his tongue over her skin. She would have pulled him closer, but he stepped away, studying her with hooded eyes. Shadows played across his face, hiding his thoughts from her.

  He nodded. “Yes, I’m ready.”

  His fingers slid the length of her arm, sending a trail of awareness in their wake. He offered her his hand. Without hesitation, she interlaced her fingers with his.

  He led her in a circle three times around a small table. The contents of the surface lay covered with a black silk cloth, which matched the cloth draped beneath. With each revolution, he stopped in front of the table and bowed his head, waiting for her to follow suit.

  The whisper of their robes against their thighs pierced the silence of the room. She shivered. Tiny quivers erupted from her abdomen into her limbs.

  Drayden’s grip tightened around hers in reassurance.

  With the third circle completed, Drayden stopped them in front of the table again. When he bowed, Jessi anticipated his move without prompting and bowed, too. He stepped forward, bringing her to his side. With a steady hand he lifted the silken cloth, then struck a match and lit two black candles. The flare enabled Jessi to see the contents of the table. She stifled a gasp.

  This wasn’t just a table. It was an altar.

  Lying within reach were the candles, a silver bell, a silver cup with a sparkling liquid inside, a pentacle pendant, a small wreath of flowers, two small cakes, and an ... athame.

  Jessi swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. Her heart raced, not sure she could go through with the ceremony Drayden demanded they enact since she had decided to move to New York and be with him.

  “The circle has been formed. We seal our protection within with the elements of earth, air, fire, water, and spirit.”

  Jessi jumped at the sound of Drayden’s voice. Although spoken softly, almost reverently, his deep voice carried around the room. He lifted the bell and rang the instrument three times. The silvery tingle raced along her spine and across her skin. Her nipples hardened beneath the robe.

  “We ask the god and goddess to protect us and bless us in our endeavors and accept our offering this night.”

  Jessi had the urge to say “amen,” but didn’t.

  Drayden turned to her. Without a word, he pulled the sash of her robe and pushed the material away from her shoulders. The silky folds glided to the floor. The night air brushed cool against her bared skin. He reached past her, his arm brushing her nipples, and retrieved the wreath of flowers. He placed it upon her head, feathering his fingers across her cheek.

  Drayden removed his own robe.

  Jessi’s gaze followed the descent of the silk to the floor, then back up slowly over the muscled contours of his body. The folds between her legs moistened.

  Drayden grasped her hand with his left hand and reached for the athame with his right. His fingers tightened when Jessi’s muscles tensed. Their gazes met.

  She searched his eyes, looking for reassurance.

  He smiled; she relaxed.

  She hissed as the blade of the athame sliced into the skin of her forearm. She stared in horror at the sight of her blood oozing along the outline of his fingers. She didn’t fight when he moved her arm over the cup of clear liquid.

  Drop. Drop. Drop. Her blood mingled with the fluid.

  Drayden released her arm, pressing her other hand over the wound, and repeated his actions to his own body. Jessi watched as he dribbled his blood into the cup with hers. Picking the chalice up, he swirled the contents together, then set it upon the table. He lifted his hands to an invisible force.

  Jessi glanced around, not moving her head. Scattered flickers of light danced around the room, but no entity could be detected.

  “We come separately to this altar, but ask to leave as one.” His fingers dipped into the mixture, then coated the red candle with their combined blood. He face
d her; she looked up.

  The smile had vanished to be replaced by the most serious expression she’d ever seen on his face. Her heart stopped as she stared into his face, hoping her trepidation about the blood rite didn’t show on her face. She’d been dating him six months, but he had never included her in one of his rituals.

  “Jessica Tanner, I anoint you with my blood and claim you as my soul-mate.”

  He traced a pentacle on her chest above her heart.

  Jessi stood still as a statue, not sure she could breathe. When he had completed his task, he looked down at her, waiting. She darted her gaze back and forth, wondering what he expected her to do. Seconds passed, but he didn’t move or speak.

  Love me. The words brushed the outer remnant of her mind. She blinked, understanding coming like a person waking from a deep sleep. Releasing the cut on her arm, she coated her fingers with her blood. She bit her lip and reached out for Drayden. With trembling fingers, she traced a pentacle above his heart. His chest moved, warm and vibrant, beneath her hand, and she could feel the steady beat of his heart. “Drayden Maslow, I anoint you with my blood and claim you as my ... soul-mate.”

  Her lips quivered, but she got the words out. Tears threatened behind her eyes. She blinked, then glanced up at the man in front of her. His smile curved gentle across his usually stern mouth. In that moment Jessi could see the poet he kept hidden within his hard exterior.

  He lifted the cup. “We are one.” He drank and handed the cup to Jessi.

  She nodded, drank, and said, “Amen.”

  Drayden chuckled. He placed the cup on the altar and lit the red candle, then leaned forward and placed his lips to hers.

  The kiss tasted of wine and blood ‑‑ hers and his ‑‑ blended together like their lives. Jessi trembled at the symbolism. When he lifted his head, she circled his neck with both arms and held him close. She didn’t want to frighten him, but he needed to know how she felt. Her gaze met his. “I love you.”

  A deep growl issued from his chest, and he pulled her against him. His lips crushed hers while his tongue forced her mouth open to mate with her tongue. He circled her thighs with each hand, lifting her legs around his waist. Bending at the knees, he laid her upon the floor on top of the robes, but within the confines of the circle. His large body covered hers, with his cock, long and hard, pushing against the entrance of her cunt. He lifted his head. Jessi protested.

  “Where are you going?”

  She opened her eyes when he didn’t answer. She saw the look of love and vulnerability in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing. Everything is great.”

  “You want to finish this in our new bed?” She wagged her eyebrows up and down.

  He grinned and shook his head. “The ceremony isn’t over.”

  She frowned. “What’s left to do?”

  He nipped her bottom lip, then sucked the stinging flesh into his mouth. “An offering to the god and goddess.” He released her lip to trail kisses over her jaw and down her throat. His teeth latched onto her nipple. “After which, you and I will eat the ceremonial cakes, as is tradition.”

  Jessi arched and dug her fingernails into his upper arms. “What kind of offering?”

  It was Drayden’s turn to close his eyes and hiss. “I love when you hurt me.”

  Jessi laughed. “You didn’t answer the question. What kind of offering?”

  “Sex.”

  Jessi hesitated and glanced around. “You mean ... sex?”

  “Oh, yeah.” A wicked light entered his eyes. “They like the magick created at the point of orgasm, or in this case, multiple orgasms.”

  “I thought that’s how I met your need for psychic energy.”

  Drayden stilled and looked down at her. “You give me everything I need, and I thank all that’s above and below for you.”

  He thrust forward, filling her body with his.

  Jessi gasped and closed her eyes at the sensation of his cock rocking her pelvis up and back, bringing her close to climax.

  “I love you, Jessi.”

  Her eyes flew open to find his face within centimeters of hers. She smiled and traced his jawline. The words she thought would never be hers had arrived. All her needs had been answered, too. She rocked her hips up to meet his thrust. “Let’s make this the best orgasm They’ve ever experienced.”

  Drayden laughed. “Amen.”

  Sheri Gilmore

  When Sheri Gilmore isn’t creating romantic sexual fantasies for her readers, she’s a registered nurse, wife, and a mother of three. Her most favorite cities are New Orleans, San Francisco, and New York City, but she’s always wanted to visit San Antonio, Santa Fe, and Las Vegas. Visit Sheri on the Web at www.sherisecrets.com.

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  Read on for a tantalizing glimpse of

  Desert Moon: Ah-ten

  by Alicia Sparks

  Available Now from Loose Id

  Desert Moon: Ah-ten

  Caire wanted to run her hands along the man's broad chest, to explore the tiny thatch of hair just below his navel, to take his tight nipples between her teeth and watch his deep blue eyes smolder with gold as she had seen so many times in her dreams. But she waited with bated breath, hoping she could subdue him enough, hoping her incense and smoke trick would entice him so that he would willingly come to her. Anything to have her hands in his hair, his body pumping into hers.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she watched the women bathe him. Their tiny breasts floated on the water, just out of reach of his mouth as he sat in the tub, submerged to the waist in the warm, clear water. She would have gone to him herself if she had not meant to test his reaction to the women. In the seconds when they had met, he claimed to be a man who could not be owned by women. Her heart pounded against her chest as she sat in the shadows, anticipation flowing all through her body.

  Medina, one of the young girls with long, dark hair, ran her hands along his chest, leaving a trail of lather in their wake. He tilted his head back as a lazy smile crossed his face. The man might proclaim to be immune to women, but he certainly seemed to be enjoying his treatment at their skilled hands. Corine stood behind him, lathering his thick hair, twisting the dark mass in her small, white hands.

  Caire inhaled a deep breath, wishing she were the one standing behind him, his head on her chest as she wove her fingers through his hair. One command was all it would take to empty the pool of the others. Then she could take her time exploring the warrior's body, taking in his ample chest, the thick mass of hair that covered it, sliding her fingers down lower to wrap around his cock.

  Watching the others surround him both aroused her and angered her. She should be the one attending him. The desire to stand, announce her presence, take control of the situation, was strong, but before she could move, he reached out and took Medina's breast into his hand and gently coaxed her forward.

  Caire's wetness came as no surprise. She had watched others have sex before and had been more than intrigued by their actions. But tonight, watching the man she longed to have, a new surge of yearning swept through her, one that was so much stronger than anything else she'd ever felt.

  He let out a low moan, deep enough for her to hear as the sound echoed through the stillness in the room. Corine had ducked beneath the water and no doubt had his cock in her mouth. Caire licked her lips, imagining how it would feel to have them stretched over his thick rod, his hands buried in her hair as she licked and sucked, moving on top of him.

  She reclined on the chaise, still hidden in the shadows, her eyes intent upon watching the women as they pleasured Ah-ten. Spreading her legs, she imagined him raising himself above her, placing his cock in her mouth. Her hand wandered down her stomach to graze against her soft patch of hair. She let it linger there for a second, imagining how his tongue would feel if it were to sweep against her while she stroked him. Then her fingers moved lower, closing over her clit, which was already swollen with anticipation.

 
Corine came up for air as Medina slipped from Ah-ten's arms and slid into the water. Corine sat astride him, her breasts pressing into his face as his fingers dug into her back. Caire couldn't see, but knew that he had Corine's breasts in his mouth, lavishing attention on one and then the other. From the sounds of the moans floating out to her, Caire imagined his skilled tongue moving swiftly, followed by his teeth, which would sink into her flesh, gently biting, bringing her to ecstasy.

  Finally, her fingers slipped into her wet warmth. One hand moved to cover her breast, to squeeze her nipple as she imagined what Ah-ten was doing. The other worked furiously at her wet pussy, attempting to bring herself to orgasm as she watched Ah-ten take turns with the maid's breasts. She longed for him to lift them out of the water and glide them over his cock, which she somehow knew would be thick and large with deep purple veins that begged to be squeezed to release.

  Her fingers weren't enough. Not when the man who was the object of her obsession possessed something so much larger than her fingers.

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  What people are saying about

  Desert Moon: Ah-ten

  Alicia Sparks has woven a great erotic romance with Desert Moon: Ah-ten. My temperature rose after reading the first few chapters. The many sexual encounters throughout this novel were very intense, frequent, hot and passionate in nature.

  -- Contessa Scion, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

  Ms. Sparks is a talented author with a very creative imagination. This is the first book I

  have read by her, but it will not be the last. I recommend this book to anyone who enjoys

  stories of fantasy and the paranormal.

  -- Susan White, Coffee Time Romance

  Ah-ten is a hero to beat all heroes and Caire is a ruler of intelligence in a fascinating story. Everything combines to create an excellent novel that I recommend to all lovers of romantic fantasy.