by Dee Carney
Therefore, he could not live.
The invisible mask of stoicism that Corin wore when ordered to execute a vampire slid into place, and Corin brought his mouth to the other man’s throat. Without a second thought or reservation, he bit into the center of his neck and yanked his head back. He pulled while the Reverent Father flailed wildly, trying to free himself, without success. Eyes closed, Corin held on as the man thrashed, his life’s blood pouring out of the new wound. Moments later when the struggle ceased, he dropped the body without looking at it again. Exsanguination of a vampire was lethal and permanent…
“Hey,” a soft voice said.
Startled, he whirled to find Jasmine standing at his side. “Christ,” he murmured, pulling her into his arms. Apparently, she’d used the time to free herself of the last restraint.
He was tired. So goddamned tired, but he knew a roomful of humans and a few remaining vampires separated them from the exit. Their fight wasn’t over yet.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” a woman’s voice said. “This was supposed to be a celebration of life. Not…not this.” Corin watched Moira push through the crowd, which hovered only a few feet from where the Reverent Father and the other vampire’s bodies lay. “We weren’t supposed to hurt her. And we were never to touch her consort. What happened? Why did this happen?”
There were the shuffling sounds of feet, but no one answered her questions.
“I swear to you, she is no more miraculous than you and I,” Corin said, hugging Jasmine closer. “Let us go in peace to live our lives. Find your miracles elsewhere.”
Moira nodded, and the tension still holding Corin hostage released as, one by one, the others in the room began to nod and back away too.
~*~
Jasmine held Corin’s hand as they slowly ambled down the long driveway leading to their home. He was covered in blood—none of it his, thankfully—and she still wore the purple negligee the cult had provided. Fatigue washed over her, but with every step closer to the house, a little more of it dissipated. “You could have let Moira drive us up here,” she admonished, not looking forward to another quarter mile of the trek. They lived in the middle of practically nowhere, just the way they both liked it. No neighbors. Just them and nature.
“It’s bad enough she knows where we live. Wasn’t going to take her right to the front door.”
“She wasn’t part of the problem. I think she just wanted something to believe in.”
“Yeah, well, she’s the Council’s problem now. There are consequences for knowing about the existence of vampires. She’s probably going to find out the hard way that knowing is not necessarily a good thing.” He’d reported the cult’s activities to his superiors, leaving it up to them as to what happened to the remaining vampires and humans.
Jasmine took simple pleasure in the way the damp earth felt beneath her feet. With the moon glowing down on them, it seemed they were being highlighted in the most ethereal way. Cicadas sung into the night, their voices echoing in the trees. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting something better for yourself.”
Corin paused, then twirled her into his arms. “Do you need something better?”
She looked into his eyes, finding comfort in his warm hold, pausing to think over the best answer.
That moment at the ranch when she’d seen Corin falter, hopelessness casting a shadow over him, she recalled his earlier confession about his dreams, and it made an important decision for Jasmine. She couldn’t allow him to continue to feel as if he couldn’t be there for her when she most needed it. Especially when his very presence in her life drove every heartbeat. He’d given her the gift of deciding the fate of her other attacker, Sijourn Vartan; the Reverent Father’s demise was something he’d needed.
“I have almost everything I need,” she responded at last.
A dark eyebrow lifted. “Almost?”
She shrugged. “I’m still hungry. Never did feed me.”
Corin chuckled before stepping away. With a slow, deliberate playfulness, he stripped off the bloody shirt and chucked it into some bushes a few feet away. He went to one knee, tilting his head back to expose the line of his neck. “Come here, mate of mine, lest I accidentally starve you.”
Seeing him make himself so vulnerable for her brought the arousal Jasmine previously ignored roaring back with a furious rush. There didn’t seem to be an inch of her husband that wasn’t solid muscle and placing her hands on his pecs for balance only reinforced that belief. She dragged her mouth over his neck, inhaling the coppery scent coating his skin. When her tongue darted out to taste him in glorious decadence, she shuddered in bliss. “I thought you were hungry,” Corin said in a low voice. Intensely hoarse.
“Very,” she whispered.
Corin reached up and cupped Jasmine’s head, bringing it closer to his. Their lips came together in a kiss that rocked through her being. She moaned a wanton sound, and Corin reacted to her signal by scooping her body into his arms. He gently laid her down on a carpet of grass, his strong arms a safe haven.
Jasmine arched beneath him, needing to connect to him physically. Hardened nipples brushed against his bare chest, sending sparks of pleasure bolting through her. He continued to plunder her mouth, kissing her thoroughly, each erotic brush of lips deepening her want for him.
Her pussy was hot and swollen, and Corin rolled between her thighs, his leg brushing against her center. Separated by the thinnest, barest material, she felt the touch as if it was skin against skin. She writhed, encountering the stiff outline of his erection tightening the front of his trousers. He wrenched his mouth away from hers, and slid his hand to her drenched panties. A sound of supreme satisfaction spilled from him, and he left her throbbing center long enough to release his cock.
She took advantage of the way his neck slid close to her lips and kissed the thumping pulse. The rhythmic beat seduced her with its simple beauty and erotic lure. Her incisors throbbed almost painfully so close to what she needed. Corin lined his cock up with her slick center and at the same moment he thrust forward, Jasmine pierced his flesh with her teeth.
“Gods,” he moaned, roughly.
The sweet, sweet taste of blood flooded her mouth, and overwrought nerves laid claim to her senses as her husband’s thrusts filled her completely. Jasmine’s eyes slammed shut, extreme ecstasy flooding her veins. She clung to Corin, riding out the luscious torture until at last she’d drank her full and licked over the small bite to seal it closed. Better to focus on the other thrill of him.
His hands stroked over her breasts, pinching the tight tips of her nipples. She cried out softly, encouragement for his actions. His mouth met hers, capturing the sound. When his pelvis brushed over her swollen clit, rocking against it as his thrusts grew more forceful, her small moans lifted into the air. His teeth nicked the skin of her shoulder, and it was all Jasmine needed to be shoved to a place where starbursts exploded inside of her.
She trembled as orgasm swept her under, her body bowing and no longer beneath her command. Dimly, she heard Corin’s groan of utter satisfaction as he spilled inside her. Her arms remained wrapped around his back, holding him close, feeling the kick of his heartbeat against her own stuttering beat.
Jasmine kissed his neck. His chin. His lips. “I love you, Corin.”
“And I you.”
Above Corin, stars twinkled in the early night, the large moon watching over them in the field of grass. She swung her gaze back to his face, his dark eyes expressive in their tenderness. Jasmine memorized his features all over again, pride swelling inside of her to know she’d committed the rest of her life with this man. “Will you still love me a hundred years from now?” she asked, already anticipating his reply.
“And a hundred years after that. I will love you until my body is no more than a memory.”
“Even after I’ve born you children and am tired and cranky?”
He chuckled. “Even then.”
“Good,” Jasmine said with a smile. �
��Because I’m pregnant.”
The smile faltered, his eyes widening. For a split second, there was a moment of doubt that perhaps this wasn’t something he’d wanted. That maybe he wanted her to himself for another year or two before starting a family. But then that smile began to grow, widening until it was all she could see through swimming vision. His cock, still semihard inside of her, stirred, and after a glacially slow thrust forward, Corin swept his lips across hers. “Mellita,” he whispered before beginning to make love to her again. The word one spoke a thousand, declaring his love, pride and wonder.
And all Jasmine’s doubt vanished.
The End…for now
Author Bio
Dee Carney is an award-winning, best-selling author of paranormal and contemporary romances. She lives at home in Florida, surrounded by four-legged writing partners. To learn more about all of Dee’s books, please visit her on the web at http://www.deecarney.com, http://www.twitter.com/dee_carney, or http://www.facebook.com/deecarneywrites.com.
Hunger Awakened (March 2013)
For more sexy vampires in dire situations, keep reading for an excerpt from Hunger Awakened by Dee Carney.
Prologue
“He’ll know of you sooner or later. He might come looking for you.”
“Who?”
“What happened to the left-for-dead? He wouldn’t have allowed himself to be taken.”
“Who? Oh, him.” John Doe. She shrugged. “Taken away in an ambulance not too long after the incident. What do you mean he’ll know of me?”
“You’re his kindred now. You carry something like a genetic marker that will make him aware of you.”
What did it matter? “So?”
Corin walked to the accent chair by her vanity and sat. “We live a very, very long time. Not a life of immortality as fiction would have you believe, but long enough to grow bored and restless. If he’s mature, he might not care. Maybe he’ll come after you just to satisfy some curiosity and merely watch from afar.
“Or he’ll come after you because he’s angry. Intentional or not, he’s broken a law and there will be consequences for that. He might take that anger out on you.”
Hunger Aroused
Chapter One
The only reason he noticed her was because of the depth of despair shining from deep-set blue eyes. Hunched against the side of a red brick wall, she looked a little too thin. Hungry in a way that didn’t remind him of food. The poor woman might have been attractive in her day, but her pale skin seemed to have lost a little of its luster. Just like those horribly sad eyes.
Something about her intrigued him though. Almost enough to make him forget about going inside, where already the scent of the nightlife called to him. The smell of densely packed bodies. Lust. Sin. As he waffled, those enticements made up his mind for him.
He’d come to the nightclub to get laid. Period.
Bast Kent strode inside without bothering to look back, the woman and her haunted eyes forgotten within seconds.
Ignoring the seductive looks a few women gave him on the way in, he went straight to the bar, twisting in between bodies that bumped and gyrated. Touched and fondled. Danced, so they called it.
Laying a crisp hundred on the spit-shined wooden surface drew the attention of a bartender without having to open his mouth to back it up. Benjamin was always a good friend to have in a place like this. A place he didn’t frequent often. There were better venues for finding willing booty. But he had his pick of slurries in a club. And slurries were so much easier to bleed… “Armadale. Neat.”
The blonde woman tilted her chin and filled the drink order without saying a word to him. At the same time she stopped pouring with her right hand, she used her left to palm the c-note.
He slammed down the vodka, savoring the smooth burn of alcohol sliding down his throat and heating his belly. If he needed another, he’d return, but with as much adrenaline pulsing through him tonight, he wanted to get sexed up sooner rather than later. No pretending he was interested in buying anyone a drink of any kind, especially not a Goddamned cosmopolitan. Definitely no small talk about what she did for a living or what she liked to do for fun. Just one good, long fuck. In the club’s restroom, in her car, her place. Whatever.
Bast searched through the writhing bodies of people on the dance floor, looking for just the right woman to bed that night. A human, preferably.
His teeth pulsed with a familiar ache, and his favorite appendage thickened at the impatient prospect of a long night of sweaty sex and decadent feeding. For whatever reason, his libido had kicked into high gear over the past couple of weeks and in this past week particularly. No matter how many times he alleviated the problem himself, he never felt relieved. So, if his own hand wasn’t going to solve the problem, he might as well let a woman with legs from here to eternity solve it for him.
No, this place wasn’t his scene, but it would serve the purpose. Undulating bodies moved like liquid to the beat of the blaring music. He scented their perspiration and a heady mix of alcohol and sex on the dance floor. A subtle haze of fresh blood drifted to him from time to time and he knew he wasn’t the only vampire on the hunt here. A lot of the humans were already so high or inebriated with alcohol, they were ripe for picking. Low-lying fruit on a tree.
And Bast was so hungry.
Yeah, he should give a fuck about using them, but it’s why their kind existed. To keep him and his kind fed and sated. In exchange, they were kept very unaware of the turmoil that raged on around them. Bast and warriors like him kept the danger of other creatures of the night far away from their doors.
He signaled to the bartender. “Another.”
The vampire nodded and went to work pouring the next one. Had to be another vampire simply because the place was too noisy for people to hear themselves think above the din, much less a few feet away.
“Hey, sweetheart. You buying?”
Bast turned to the exotic woman at his elbow. She pressed a finger into one ear and leaned close enough that he was afforded a healthy blast of her warm breath when she shouted. Some Asian ancestry ran through her genes. Bone-straight hair and distinctive eyes declared it for her. The makeup around her eyes had been plastered on, the lipstick she wore too bright, but she was pretty. And based on the way she ogled him, about to become the next notch in his bed post.
“Just out playin’ the game,” Bast replied. No sense in getting her hopes up for anything more. She’d either stick around or head for deeper pockets. He swallowed down the vodka chaser, already scanning the crowd for another woman in case this one didn’t pan out.
“Yeah?” She edged closer, allowing her breasts to brush his torso. “What are you packing?”
Bast’s lips twitched with amusement. “Enough. You interested?”
She peered past him, and her moment’s inattention gave him the opportunity to notice too-large pupils. The chick was high and whatever she floated on was taking her for a nice ride. When he fed from her later, it should give him a nice momentary buzz too. The prospect of fucking her became that much sweeter.
A few weeks ago he might have felt like a shit for taking advantage of her state, but lately, he couldn’t stop the craving. It had become almost unbearable. He needed to feed, and she’d do nicely.
“Today’s my birthday,” she said with a smile. “Why the hell not? What’s your name?”
The polite thing to do would have been to at least offer a “happy birthday.” At the very least, toss her a fake name to call him by. Instead, Bast took her by the hand and wound them through the throng of bodies and into the back. His gift to her would be allowing her some dignity by staying out of the restrooms, but against the wall in a dark corner proved an appealing idea.
“Always had a thing for the strong, silent type,” she muttered. Sensitive hearing picked up every syllable over the rhythmic beat of music. Bast grinned to himself. He didn’t have the abilities of full-born vampires, but his lineage offered him enough bennies.
&
nbsp; The smugness faltered for a moment when he thought of what he was doing—what he was about to do.
He was going to feed, yes. But while he drank from her, another need, some primal call, demanded to be sated. The urge taunted him, and he felt an addiction to something he’d not yet partaken of. Something in the back of his mind tugged at him, whispered of caution. Ravenous Bast ignored it.
By the time they’d crossed the room, he couldn’t get them away from the crowd fast enough. He swore he felt the blood race through every vein. Inside of him swelled with life, as if something within was trying like hell to get out. The urge, the gnawing in his belly, the craving became almost unbearable. He staggered as a wave crashed into him. Heat flared like summer in the air-conditioned room.
“Hey, you okay?”
Bast nodded, hiding a grimace behind tightened lips. “Fine. One shot too many.”
Vampires didn’t get inebriated off two shots of booze, and they sure as shittin’ didn’t get sick. Whatever this was almost had the ability to frighten him. Almost.
The woman’s grip on his hand tightened, but she kept pace with his long stride, winding with him through bodies and toward their ultimate destination. He knew once he got them there, he would feel better. He would feed, and the sensation would die away.
He’d been training too hard. Ignoring his basic needs for too long. That his body finally retaliated made sense.
“Are you sure?” His companion might have been tipping toward oblivion a few minutes ago, but a new edge to her voice at once made her seem sober. “You’re kind of warm.”
“Warm?”
She tugged on his hand, forcing him to slow. He caught the concern on her face when he glanced at her over his shoulder. “You might be coming down with something, sweetie. Maybe tonight’s not your night for this.”