Warren couldn’t deny he was attracted to the man. He had Botticelli beauty. So he went to him, sat on the bed, and let the vampire take him in his arms.
Sid wrapped his arms around Warren. He drew him close and kissed his forehead tenderly. “Sex is different once you’re a supernatural. We can’t breed. We’re only made. And we can’t transmit sexual diseases, so you needn’t worry. You’re safe with me.”
He kissed Warren again, sweet and tender this time, as he undid the buttons on his shirt. His long, spidery fingers traced the full muscles of his pecs, the flat plane of his stomach. Warren tasted the sweetness of the vampire’s mouth once more. He pressed his palms against his lover’s waist then drew his hands upward, enjoying the way his muscles tensed beneath his embrace. The vampire was cool to the touch, but there was still heat in his pale flesh.
“Sex,” the vampire said, pulling from the kiss to help Warren yank his pants off, “Is also a bonding ritual for us. When we can’t feed, we can nourish ourselves off sex. It keeps us from killing the humans. We can also exchange information this way. I’m going to see the killer’s face through your eyes, after I plant my cock deep inside you.”
Warren moaned at the shock of his overt confession. That and the vampire’s hand closing around his exposed, stiffening cock. His lover pushed him into the plush mattress and ran an appreciative hand up and down his naked form.
“Think of his face,” he said as he straddled Warren. “Show it to me.”
He bent down and nestled his face into his lover’s neck. His hand coiled around his cock once more, stroking harder still. His lover cried out when sharp teeth broke his skin. The sudden pain shocked Warren, and he almost threw the vampire off of him.
“Shhhh,” the vampire said. “Be still. I won’t hurt you, and my bite can’t harm you. I just want to penetrate you in every way possible.” Blood stained his lips when he looked at Warren and smiled. “It’ll help information flow from you to me even better. Connect us deeper.”
He went back to Warren’s neck, lapping at the holes there while he continued to expertly work his cock. Soft skin slid in a perfect rhythm over rigid muscle. Warren sighed and bucked his hips up, trying to thrust deeper into his lover’s touch.
He cradled the back of the vampire’s head as he urged the killer’s face to the front of his mind. Pulling his lover tighter to him, he sought out the vampire’s cock, wanting to return the pleasure he received. He struggled to let the images of this afternoon, the murder and pursuit by the tall jester type, flow as erotic enjoyment tried to railroad his thoughts.
The vampire’s skin was smooth and soft, and he enjoyed exploring it. His cock was long and thick, with a perfect curve near the glans. The head of his penis was meaty, and he flicked his thumb over the hole, teasing it as he absorbed its pre-cum. His vampire lover groaned out approval.
His lover’s lips moved from his neck to kiss and bite a path between his nipples. He didn’t break skin this time. Just took tiny pieces of flesh between his teeth and tugged. When he reached Warren’s nipples he teased each one with a combination of teeth and tongue, until he writhed beneath the vampire and clutched at his curls.
The vampire’s hot tongue laved a path to his stomach. It poked in his belly button and teased the sensitive nerve center, milking his cock faster, rougher, as he did so. He cried out and his ass left the mattress. The images in his mind almost burst and scattered, but he held on tight and continued to transmit, he hoped.
“Can you see him?” he whispered, just as the vampire’s lips kissed the head of his cock.
“Oh yes, I can see him perfectly,” his lover replied, just before his mouth glided down around his shaft.
Warren lost his mind to pure bliss, and he just hoped his lover got what he needed before his brain clouded with intense sensation. His lover sucked hard on his penis, taking all of it deep into his mouth. But this sheathe of warm wetness enveloped him briefly, for the vampire pulled his lips away to feather light kisses over his inner thighs.
“I need your mind to still,” his vampire lover explained. “I gave you too much too soon, and I chased the image of the others away.”
So he teased Warren mercilessly, denying his cock even the slightest of touches as he went to work on his balls and asshole. He tilted Warren’s ass higher, dug his fingers into his firm, smooth cheeks. A tongue flitted over his tight, puckered hole and he sighed loud and long. His limbs flooded with warmth and his nerves tingled.
Fingers invaded his asshole, but the sensation wasn’t unpleasant at all. He mused to himself how his man on man inexperience edged closer to being lost completely. He didn’t mind at all. It was a fantasy come true, and despite the earlier trauma of the day, he relished in it.
Those slick digits worked in an out his rectum, seeking out his prostrate. There was some pain, but a pleasant pressure grew deep in his ass, flow out to his balls and making them tighten. He pushed his ass into the penetration, urging his lover’s fingers farther up his anal canal. That bit of pain became pure pleasure. His lover’s touch curled and stroked faster, making his prostrate burn.
“Please,” he begged. “Can I cum? Have…have you got what you need?”
His lover gave a throaty chuckle that made Warren shiver. “Would you like to cum hard, Warren? Right now?”
“Ohh, yes… please.”
“Well…” He paused, and a tongue pressed into Warren’s balls, swirling circles. “I do have the killer’s face, and you have been a good boy. Perhaps you deserve some release. Tell me how to give it to you.”
“Please.” He gasped for breath, watching the vampire’s eyes sparkle as he slowly wrapped a hand around the base of his cock. “Suck me. Fuck me. I want to lose my cherry.”
His lover smirked. “Then lose it you shall.”
Once more his cock was encased in slippery, hot bliss. The vampire curled his tongue around his shaft as he descended. He swept his tongue out over Warren’s scrotum as he deep throated him once more. He took his mouth away long enough to nip at his lover’s sac, tugging the skin until Warren yipped and bucked.
“Don’t cum just yet,” the vampire commanded. “I want to bury that sweet cock deep in my ass.”
Warm tightness slipped over his penis. Warren closed his eyes and sighed, letting the sensation fully take him. He focused on the velvet friction encasing his cock. His lover’s canal stretched pleasantly to accommodate his girth, but still gripped him snugly. His lover rocked and rode him in a slow rhythm, and he struggled not to burst.
The door they had entered earlier slammed open. A burly man, whose head almost brushed the arched entrance, charged in. Warren’s orgasm jetted from the tip of his cock, brought to its precipice by a mixture of surprise and erotic stimuli.
The giant’s skin was green tinged. He chuckled low in his throat as he stood just inside the apartment, arms crossed over a barrel chest covered in a leather jacket lined with zippers on the outside. He wore large shades that completely covered his eyes, despite the dimness of the room. Dark brown curls fell past his shoulders, and a thick beard sprouted across his jaw.
He pulled his shades off and pinned the pair of lovers with vibrant yellow eyes. “Color me shocked,” he said in a deep baritone, aimed in Sid’s direction. “I’m framed for murder, and you’re out picking up werewolves.”
Warren looked from Sid to the man. “How’d you know I was a werewolf?”
The man grunted. “Supernaturals can sense each other’s abilities. Tune your senses on me and try it.”
Warren did as he was told by the gigantic man. He could see word pictures and images. The individual who’d just joined them was a troll.
“Warren,” the vampire spoke, after scooting to the end of the bed. “Meet my ex, Avery.” Then to Avery, he said, “And you should be thanking me instead of making snide comments. This one.” He threw an arm over Warren’s shoulder. “Saw your murderer, and he gave me the face.” The vampire tapped his temple.
Avery came
forward, drawing close to the bed. Long arms and massive paws shot out. Thick fingers curled around the vampire’s skull. “Show me.” He grunted again, then nodded as he smiled in satisfaction. “Just as I suspected. An agent of Purity.”
When the troll took his hands off the vamp, Warren looked at him. “Who’s Purity?”
The vampire let out a long exhale then said, “Eugenicist. And there’s nothing wrong with that, necessarily. Except they’d like to wipe monsters off the face of Earth.”
***
You can pick up Waking Up Werewolf The Complete Series at Amazon, Kobo, All Romance, Smashwords, Nook, and Siren BookStrand. For more details, visit: http://wildlawlesswriters.blogspot.ca/2012/10/waking-up-werewolf-complete-series.html
***
Claimed by the Bad Boy
Bad Boys of BDSM Volume 2
By Anita Lawless
Prologue
Corey sat on the bed, head in hands, as Bekka paced the carpet with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Bekka.” He looked up at her and tears streaked his chiseled face. “Don’t do this, please?”
She touched his cheek, running her fingers through his trimmed, dark beard. “I have to, baby.” Bekka dropped her head. “I’m sorry.”
He grabbed her hands—a desperate look in his eyes—as she tried to pull away and continue packing. “Stay, darling, please. We can work this out. I know we can.”
Fighting her own tears, Bekka managed a weak smile, shaking her head as she tossed another shirt into the suitcase. “It’s been three years, baby. Three years, and nothing has changed.” She shrugged and swallowed back a sob. “Maybe we just came together at the wrong time, you know? I wanted to believe in us, Corey. I did…”
Corey got up from the edge of the bed and crossed to the closet, standing in front of it, stopping her progress, folding his well-developed arms over his broad chest. “I can’t let you go.”
“You have to, baby.” She caressed his face and heaved a deep, ragged sigh. “Things end sometimes, for different reasons. You’re not a bad person, Corey, but…you’ve changed. I’ve changed. We’re not the same people who came into this relationship. I think we both want different things now.”
Corey shook his head and grabbed her wrist. “You’re wrong. We can work this out. We just need to sit down, talk—”
“I’m leaving, sweetie.” Bowing her head so he couldn’t catch the pain in her eyes, Bekka pushed him away. “Please, just accept that and let me go.”
Corey backed away from the closet. He stalked from the bedroom, slamming the door as he left.
***
Chapter 1
Bekka carefully unwrapped the package that sat atop her glass display case. It was an H.P. Lovecraft original, and being a lifelong fan of horror she couldn’t help but smile wide as she gazed down upon the book. Damn, she thought, It’s nice to enjoy what you do for a living.
Bekka had rented the space for her rare used books/oddities/antiques store around two years ago, right after her divorce from Corey was finalized. The memory of their uncomfortable parting made her sigh as she ran a reverent hand over the book’s cover.
She thought back to their final day together, remembered Corey and Juanita begging her to reconsider leaving. But Bekka had learned one lesson living with her husband and his stepmother for two years: There was only room for one woman in a man’s life, at least, when it came to living under one roof.
After enduring two and a half years with the meddlesome but well meaning woman, Bekka had to admit defeat. It wasn’t that Juanita had meant to gobble up every spare moment of Corey’s time, or that she meant to horn in on their relationship. It just happened. And Bekka, powerless to stop it but desperately wishing she could, had to do some soul searching before she dropped the dreaded “D” word on Corey.
It had practically killed him. She would never forget the look of hollow sorrow in his eyes that day.
“Why the hell am I doing this to myself?” she muttered to a china Buddha smiling cheerily at her from where it sat in a tall, glass display case.
Glancing at the calendar by the door, Bekka came around front to flip the CLOSED sign to OPEN.
She looked down at the dusty motorcycle boots on the other side of the glass, wood-framed entrance. Her eyes followed them up to black jeans, and she swallowed as her fingers closed over the sign.
Two years. Bekka never thought she’d see him again, even though they lived only forty-five minutes apart.
But there he was, standing on the other side of the door, smiling in at her, wearing a black t-shirt and sunglasses. It gave him that enigmatic, slightly dangerous look she’d always loved about him.
Corey Varkov. Her ex-husband. Bekka stared and her hand trembled on the sign.
Corey pointed to the doorknob, smiled—showing his deep dimples—and raised his eyebrows.
Nodding her head, Bekka forced a smile through her shock, fumbled with the key in her hand, and let him in.
“What…” Her voice cracked and her throat dried. “What are you doing here?” She cursed her words for deserting her at the worst possible moment.
Corey looked around her shop and walked about casually. He took off his glasses and exposed those deadly blue eyes. Bekka flipped the sign quickly and made a retreat behind the counter.
“I’m doing great, Bekka. Thanks for asking. How are things with you these days?” He leaned over the counter and stared at her. Not smiling, not frowning, just wearing an impassive face. The stance he knew unnerved Bekka the most. Damn, how she hated him, but was so incredibly happy to see him in that same moment.
“I-I didn’t mean anything by not asking how you were, Corey.” She crossed her arms tightly over her breasts and set her jaw. “It’s just a bit of a shock, seeing you here all of a sudden like this.”
“Well.” He propped one tattooed elbow on the covered counter. “There’s a good reason for my visit.” Standing upright, he walked toward the wall display of pewter dragons and various mythical creatures. “I just bought the place across from your shop. I’m moving Black Magick Tattoo and Designs into the city. Mom’s got her own things to do, doesn’t really need me around to help much anymore. Plus, she has a new beau she wants to be closer to.” He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “She’s putting the farmhouse up for sale soon. So, looks like I’m on my own, and the apartment above the shop is more than enough for me.”
She was surprised by how quickly he moved back to the counter; his hands now braced on the silk cover that protected the glass top. His stealth used to thrill her. Such a large, muscular man, yet he moved like a cat, while Bekka was as klutzy as a big dog in a china shop.
“We’ll be neighbors?” Bekka frowned and pretended she found a dirty spot on the edge of the display case.
“Looks that way.”
Out of her side vision, Bekka caught his lecherous smile, and a warm heat fluttered in her groin as she swallowed.
***
Had she been affected by his visit? Corey had watched for subtle signs and he thought he’d caught a few, but perhaps that was just wishful thinking on his part.
Damn, it was so good to see her again. Bekka looked even better than she had two years ago when she’d walked out on him. His heart ached as he thought of those big, startled grey eyes this morning, staring at him in surprise. If it took him until his death, Corey was going to get her back. Some way, some how. So much had changed since their split, and he just hoped he could show her that, convince her wary heart that life with him would be different this time around.
It had taken all his strength not to take her in his arms right there in her shop, kiss her hard, and inhale the scent of her hair, her skin. He’d missed her so much these past two years, and he had worked hard to get back on his feet, become a free man, and come after the only woman he’d ever really loved. The only woman that ever really understood him.
It wasn’t that his step-mom, Juanita, meant to come between them while Bekka and Corey had be
en living with her. Corey and Bekka had fallen on some hard times financially back then, and Juanita had offered to help them out by giving them a place to stay until they got on their feet.
Juanita and Bekka had rented a shop in the small town they’d lived on the outskirts of, and they’d ran a successful café in the farming community of Rexton. Corey had started his tattoo business out of the home they’d shared, and now his talent had earned him a well-known name, from Moncton, to Saint John, to Fredericton and well beyond. People thought nothing of driving for hours, even days, to come and have a tattoo done by him. He’d even had people come up from the States to have work done by him.
Just before the divorce, he’d made enough to buy a shop in Rexton, which had been even better for business, since it offered a more central location for his clients. Now he’d sold that place to a tattooist who’d been his apprentice, and with the profit he bought the new Moncton shop and invested some funds.
After Bekka left him, Corey’s sole purpose in life centered on one thing: working his ass off, building up a healthy name and a healthy clientele, so he could move the tattoo shop into the city and have the funds to go after her. It was all because of lack of money and lack of alone time together that their relationship had gone sour in the first place. Not that Bekka was the kind of woman to base a relationship on money. Hell, she wouldn’t have stayed with him through the rough years if that were the case. But now he had the freedom to spoil her the way she deserved, and the freedom to be on his own, so he could seduce her back into his arms properly. And Corey was a stubborn man. He wasn’t giving up.
“Hey.” His young apprentice that came with him from Rexton popped his head out of the tattoo room. “What you want for lunch, man? I’ll go out and grab us something.”
Corey draped his leather jacket over the coat rack close to the opening of the tattoo room. “I don’t know what I’m in the mood for, Jamie. Surprise me.”
Jamie, a sinewy kid that Corey dwarfed by a good six inches, looked at him hard. “You okay, man. You seem somewhere else?”
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