Vampires! A Bundle of Bloodsuckers

by Hilburn, Lynda

  “Tempest?”

  His voice roused her from the pleasant daydream he’d planted, and she tightened her legs around his hips, her vagina contracting around his cock again.

  “That was right up there with the top ten best fucks I’ve ever had. You’ve got some awesome equipment there, pretty boy. And you’re not too shabby in the performance department, either.”

  He laughed. “I was just getting warmed up. The night is young.”

  “You got that right.” She eased her hips back, freeing his erection and slid down his body. She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the bedroom.

  Malveaux allowed her to take charge this time. He knew from tasting her blood that they’d be a good match. She would serve him well. He allowed himself to relax for the first time in months.

  “I want to see the body that’s underneath these clothes.”

  She maneuvered them next to the huge, king-size bed. This time when she attempted to pull his t-shirt over his head, he cooperated. She discarded the shirt on the floor, then ran her hands over his smooth, muscular chest and leaned in to lick his nipples.

  “Do you work out or is this just another one of your genetic bonuses? Or are you really from the planet Krypton?”

  “I’m just one of those lucky guys with a great metabo –”

  His words were interrupted by an unexpected loud groan as he reacted to her yanking his leather pants down his legs before sucking his cock into her mouth.

  He lowered himself down onto the bed, fisted his hands in her hair, and guided her head in a gentle motion, encouraging her to take more of him as he became rock-hard again.

  Energetically twirling her tongue around his shaft as she slid it out of her mouth, she sucked at the opening in the tip, and then left his cock bobbing in his lap.

  “Let me get those boots off, Superman.”

  She removed the black boots, pulled the leather pants off his legs, then threw them back over her shoulder.

  He smiled and discovered he was enjoying their little game. Allowing her to be in charge for this brief period was more enticing than he would’ve imagined. He had to admit he actually liked this human female. After she drank his blood tonight, he’d have his first offspring. Pride and satisfaction flowed through him. He hoped having a regular blood and sex partner would calm down his urges, at least for a while. His maker felt compelled to create legions of devoted thralls to meet his twisted demands. Would it be the same for Malveaux? How many offspring would he need?

  Tempest slid her hands up his legs, caressed his balls, and then rose to her feet. She crawled around him onto the huge bed, and settled in the middle, spread eagle. “Come and show me what you can do with that tongue, pretty boy.”

  He wondered if this night could get any better. He really did love eating pussy.

  Ready for the next round, he ambled to the end of the bed and sent her the mental command to bend her knees and open her legs wider. His gaze locked on the glistening pink wetness, and he felt his cock twitch, eager to get in on the action.

  Chapter 8

  “Holy fuck,” Tempest muttered. Had she hit the jackpot tonight, or what? Some drop-dead gorgeous slice of manhood showed up at the dive bar, and now here he was, smiling at her, his humungous cock jutting out in front of him like one of those lances they used for jousting, ready to lick her pussy. She must’ve done something right in a past life.

  Her clit ached in excited anticipation.

  She studied him as he stalked toward her. He had the most amazing eyes. Amazing, but weird. Sometimes they appeared as blue as the summer sky, and then they turned into mirrors. Maybe she was having some kind of LSD flashback.

  And that hair. Long hair didn’t work on all guys. Sometimes it made them look wimpy or stupid, but Malveaux’s hair was a turn-on: silky-soft under her hands, thick, and glossy. A real aphrodisiac. Then there was his body. Thinking about his body made the moisture drip from her hungry cunt.

  He slid toward her from the foot of the bed, moving like a predator. Just before he lowered his head between her legs, he paused, grinning. “Remember, they have great soundproofing here. You can scream as loud as you wish. I’m going to make you come so many times that you’ll beg me to stop.”

  He hooked an arm under each leg and spread her wider. She felt him stroke his long tongue up one side of her clit, then the other, already building her toward orgasm. She arched her hips and moved rhythmically against his tongue, heightening every sensation he drew from the sensitive area. When he teased her clit into his mouth, she screamed, exploding in pleasure.

  She felt a quick, sharp pain as he sucked on her tender skin, but was overwhelmed again by a swelling tidal wave of satisfaction. She was so wet she was surprised he didn’t get swept away onto the floor. The thought made her smile, before another orgasm crashed over her.

  She couldn’t remember ever having so many intense orgasms in a row. Malveaux was one helluva lover, but she was getting sore–tender. Damn him. She was going to have to make him stop, at least for a while. What the hell? He didn’t even have beard stubble.

  “Come up here.” She grabbed his hair, and lifted his face from her crotch. “I want to taste myself on your lips.”

  He lifted himself, as if performing half a push-up. “Is that your way of begging me to stop?” he whispered, playfully.

  “Yes, damn it, but I do want to taste your mouth, and I want you inside me.”

  He crawled up her body until the tip of his cock rubbed against her hot, pulsing opening. She closed her eyes to savor the body rush that his soft movements triggered. He sucked on one nipple then the other, causing her to arch her back with desire. Then he raised himself over her, and moved the tip of his thickness very slowly over her clit. She took his face in her hands, drawing his lips down to hers.

  The kiss was deep, sensual and intimate. She tasted herself, musky and salty, as their tongues wrestled gently together. She had a momentary thought about how interesting it might be if Malveaux stuck around for a while. She wouldn’t mind spending some time training this one. It was always good to grab onto a firm possibility whenever one arose.

  He eased his cock inside her very slowly. She could feel him fill her, stretching her one slow, torturous inch at a time. He moved in and out in long, deep strokes. She heard him making little moaning noises low in his throat.

  Close to peak, Tempest wrapped her legs around him and took him deeper. Instinctively she squeezed the muscles in her pussy to invite Malveaux along for the ride.

  He raised himself up, gazed into her eyes, and she suddenly became fuzzy, as if she’d had too many beers. She felt him kissing his way down the side of her neck, and then gasped at a sudden, sharp pain. While she moaned, he pumped his cock wildly inside her and sucked roughly on her neck. Waves of ecstasy slammed through her as he did whatever he was doing to her neck. Where the hell had he learned to fuck like that?

  Her head filled with cotton candy, she struggled to remain conscious, and watched him rise over her, something red smeared all over his mouth. He seemed to be doing something to his neck. Making a cut? She thought he said “drink,” as he lifted her head toward the wound.

  She’d just curled the tip of her tongue along the wet, copper-scented place on his neck, when suddenly he dropped her head back onto the pillow, stopped moving his cock inside her, and went completely still. She tried to shake the cobwebs from her brain. What happened? What was that sound? Was someone outside the door?

  “Shit!” Malveaux bolted from the bed.

  Chapter 9

  “What the fuck?” Malveaux said to nobody in particular as he tuned into the fumbling sounds in the hallway.

  He could’ve staked himself for getting so caught up in playing with the human female that he’d let the Neanderthal vampires get all the way to the door of the suite before he sensed their presence. How could he have gotten so distracted? What the hell was the matter with him? He hadn’t done anything that dense since he was a newborn. And h
e called himself an assassin. The buffoons’ primitive thoughts were so clearly broadcast that he’d have to be telepathically deaf to miss them.

  He shook his head, put the brakes on the self-recrimination and reordered his priorities.

  First on the agenda: buy some time.

  He focused his consciousness, then sent a burst of thought to the group in the hallway, demanding that they retrace their steps back to the elevator and descend. The sound of shuffling, stumbling footsteps confirmed the vampires’ resistance, as their meager will force struggled against the command he’d sent. How did Quade always manage to recruit such inferior minions?

  While it was relatively easy for Malveaux to control all of them for a short time, he knew they’d be back the moment the power of the suggestion diminished. What they lacked in brain power, they made up for with brawn. He figured he had about three minutes before they kicked the door in.

  Turning his attention to the woman on the bed, his eyebrows winged up.

  He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t what he found. Tempest was no longer lying there, entranced from the mental command he’d given her while he sucked on her neck. Not even close. She was sitting up, arms folded under those bodacious breasts, watching him intently.

  “Tell me more about you not being in the mob,” she said, a wicked smile flirting with the corners of her lips. “I love a good fairy tale.”

  Malveaux became momentarily distracted by the smell of blood still oozing from the bite marks on Tempest’s neck. He watched the vibrant red slide down her sweat-slick, white skin, etching out a path between her breasts. He ran his tongue over the tips of his still-descended fangs. He’d obviously created larger wounds than he intended when he’d been enthusiastically feeding. He cocked his head, studying her. Odd that Tempest was coherent enough to talk to him, but hadn’t noticed all that blood yet. Or at least she hadn’t reacted to it. By all rights, she should be out cold. Her mind must be stronger than he originally estimated. The notion of creating an offspring who was a near equal was highly arousing. He looked down at his cock, which was twitching again.

  Now that he thought about it, he’d never been so turned on in his life, or in his death. His ramrod-stiff dick throbbed, and his fangs ached. He hadn’t been able to finish either part of the enslaving process, and he didn’t think his visitors in the hallway would wait patiently while he emptied himself into the woman and gave her his blood. Fucking miserable timing.

  He stepped quickly over to the bed, leaned down and kissed Tempest’s lips, still red and swollen from his torrid kisses. “I apologize for the abrupt and inconvenient end to our evening, but we will definitely meet again.”

  Before she could respond, he captured her eyes with his and whispered, “Sleep.” She fell back against the pillows, her now-seemingly boneless body vulnerable and limp. Sliding his tongue eagerly over the drying blood on her chest and neck, he licked away all traces of his feasting. To stop the blood flow, he concentrated some of his vampire saliva into the bite holes. Within minutes the entire wound would be healed. Soon, there wouldn’t even be a pink spot to mark his territory, but next time, she’d be his forever.

  Moving so quickly that if any mortals had been watching he would have appeared to them only as a blur, he wrapped Tempest in the bedspread and scooped her up from the bed. Carrying her like a human burrito, he strode out of the master bedroom, through the large living room of the suite, and into the guest bedroom at the far end of the spacious accommodations. As he approached the mirrored closet doors, the strange vision of a colorful, silk brocade bedspread-encased body floating in midair drew an unexpected laugh from Malveaux. Since he hadn’t spent much time around mirrors, every experience brought the realization of his invisibility back with fresh surprise and amusement.

  He pulled open one side of the closet, deposited his future offspring on the carpeted floor, and shut the door. She’d awaken with very confused memories, but that couldn’t be helped. He would adjust her recollections soon enough. Striding back into the master bedroom, he sensed the moment his control over the uninvited vampires snapped, and they moved as a herd back toward his suite.

  Not usually choosing to be so dramatic, but needing to indulge this time, he put aside his pragmatic nature. He scanned the area, and planned his special exit. A distraction was in order, and he hoped the obviously newly turned vampires would be easily dazed and confused. It would require a bit of theater to divert their attention away from Tempest’s hiding place. Malveaux rolled two pillows inside another of the blankets from the bed, made the bundle appear as human-like as possible, and lifted it into his arms. He noticed his leather pants crumpled on the floor, remembered he was still naked, and considered getting dressed, but it really didn’t matter since he planned on changing form soon. Clothing would only get in the way, but what a waste of good leather.

  Timing it perfectly, Malveaux ran into the living room just as the suite door blasted open with a loud crash. Several large bloodsuckers, resembling an undead football squad, stumbled into the room, and rushed toward him like mindless zombies.

  Malveaux smiled, clutched his faux-human to his chest, and launched himself through the floor-length window glass that framed the downtown skyline. The force of his impact shattered the window and sent hundreds of tiny shards of the custom-designed, high-tech glass cascading out into the howling blizzard. Immediately, the powerful wind pushed the deadly blades back into the room with the velocity of a hurricane.

  As he hovered in the air outside the building for a few seconds before initiating the change, he glanced back over his shoulder. All four of the vampires screamed and flailed, attempting to rip the glass projectiles from their bodies, blood everywhere. He hoped they’d act instinctively and follow him out the window. He knew that, as newborn vampires, they wouldn’t die when they hit the cement below, but they’d be out of commission for quite a while. Their entire bodies would have to regenerate. They didn’t have the ability yet, if they ever would, to change form.

  He willed the transformation from body to mist, and had the usual sensation of his consciousness spreading out like spilled water. The shift was disconcerting and uncomfortable, as if what made him a distinct individual had dissipated, fragmented. He dropped the bedding he’d been carrying and lost all awareness of physical form. He’d just made the complete transition, when he felt the four vampire bodies fall through him.

  If all four of them were tumbling down twenty floors toward the asphalt below, that meant Tempest was safe, at least from this particular group of nightwalkers. When Malveaux was finished with them, what remained wouldn’t constitute much of a group. Whether Tempest was safe from him, though, was an entirely different question.

  He floated fog-like, misty, all the way down the side of the hotel, noticing at least a few mortals standing at windows along the way, their faces registering shocked surprise. No doubt they’d seen the bodies fall. If he wanted to add a paranormal element to their window-gazing experience, he could transform his white fog into something that would stand out against the falling snow. Maybe something that could ooze, but he couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for fun and games. There was too much to do.

  It would be interesting to see how the hotel explained the damage to the room and the rumors of flying bodies. Not to mention the naked woman in the closet. If their much-advertised soundproofing lived up to its reputation, perhaps it would be a while before anyone discovered the carnage.

  He came to rest in the alley behind the hotel, then reversed the transformation and eagerly shifted himself back into his normal vampire shape. The sensation of reforming into the physical was as unpleasant for him as the opposite had been, but not exactly painful, because he couldn’t experience pain. He was too old for that, except, of course, the kind of pain that would come from having his head chopped off or his heart extracted. If he could get through the night without having those experiences, he was probably going to be pain-free.

  Standing in
the alley, naked, in the midst of a once-in-a-century blizzard, he searched for the temporarily stunned bodies of the bloodsuckers that’d dived out of the window after him. In the short time it had taken him to descend as fog, the snow had already covered over the motionless stooges. Since Malveaux hadn’t paid much attention to the storm, discovering that the snow had already hidden the vampires was an unexpected bonus.

  In fact, as he noticed the faintest lightening of the eastern sky, it occurred to him that the pitiful oafs probably wouldn’t survive to terrorize the city another night. The sun would exact revenge enough, even if it was obscured by storm clouds.

  If he didn’t want to become a pile of ashes in the snow himself, he’d better get his naked ass under cover, and he’d be damned if he’d leave without his car. His leather was one thing, but his silver baby was quite another.

  Normally, he wouldn’t parade around nude in downtown Detroit, but the blizzard had driven everyone indoors, and if he did happen to encounter anyone, he’d just suggest that they’d never seen him. He had to admit that his mind control ability was one aspect of being a vampire he really loved. Oh, the joy of never arguing with anyone.

  He jogged up the alley toward the hotel’s main entrance, assuming the parking garage would be close. When he reached the corner of the hotel, he stopped to make sure the street was empty. Finding that was the case, he stepped out onto the snow-buried sidewalk and navigated toward the driveway into the hotel’s underground level.

  Only able to sense one stream of human thoughts and emotions nearby, he moved with vampire speed into the parking garage and discovered the human attendant sleeping in his booth. He sent a suggestion to deepen the man’s sleep and located his keys immediately on a hook near the drooling human’s head. He’d been sure his would be the only keys with a little coffin dangling from the ring.