Taming the Vampire: Over 25 All New Paranormal Alpha Male Tales of Contemporary, Military, Shifters, Billionaires, Werewolves, Magic, Fae, Witches, Dragons, Demons & More

by Mandy M. Roth

  “I want you.” He managed to struggle the words out, watching her face for any signs of distress. He was being forward, but then again, he wasn’t. In his heart and mind, and in his tiger’s, she was already theirs.

  “Take me. God, make me yours. Please.” Her voice was husky with yearning, matching the scent of her. Her eyelids were heavy with desire.

  Étienne’s fingers slid between her slick folds, the goal, her already swollen center, he rubbed in fast circles.

  She writhed in his arms, nails digging into his arms, scoring the flesh, fueling his hunger.

  Her movements spurred his fingers to rubbing her faster and faster while she moved, pulling him closer with her grip on his arms.

  She whimpered, a low, carnal sound that began to build toward a peak until she screamed and hung on to him, her body giving in to the release.

  “Étienne!” His name was one long moan as it left her lips. He dove in, claiming her mouth, his tongue twirling over hers, then dominant in the same way he wanted to claim all of her.

  Her legs trembled as she watched him removed his pants with one hand and sit on a log, bringing her onto his lap in an embrace.

  Bodies lined up just so, as if meant to be, his hardness found her moist entrance. With abandon, no control whatsoever, yielding to the hurricane force of passion that raged within him, Étienne pulled her down, harder than he’d planned, his length filling her, stretching her, but not all the way in.

  A loud gasp escaped her as she took all of him.

  As if this was not their first time, so well positioned and matched they were, she fit on him as if molded to him. Étienne moved his hips and she ground down, so deep, he groaned.

  He was filled with the power of their desire. Heat traveled through his body, energy through his veins.

  He groaned when she rocked her hips, fighting the urge to release. He was in her full hilt, the sounds of her passion pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

  She thrust backward, her breasts arched up, her muscles tight around him.

  Étienne leaned in, taking her nipple in his mouth, sucking on the stiff peak, relishing the way it pebbled further in his mouth.

  “Celine. Ah, woman.” He needed her. He wanted her. He craved her. All of her.

  His tiger released a snarl in agreement. Years of emotions escaped Étienne as he opened his mouth and let his tiger’s sentiments come out in a roar.

  Celine leaned forward, drinking in the sound, taking in his pain and hope, making it her own.

  Her complete melding to him was his undoing, pulling back with a grunt, he thrust deeply into her, filling her.

  Her outcry matched his own. She gave as good as she got as she grabbed his shoulders, and pulled herself in, taking even more of him.

  His tiger growled deeply within Étienne. The growling persisted until Étienne finally understood what the tiger was trying to communicate. He wanted Étienne to mark her as theirs. To bond with her, to couplebond, giving her a longer life, keeping them together. That sacred bond that no man or shifter could render asunder.

  She has to want it, he reminded his tiger.

  The tiger snarled.

  “Are you mine?” he asked Celine. “Are you truly, forever mine?” Those were his tiger’s words, this he knew, but he felt them as well, just the same.

  He thrust with every word, she thrust back, meeting his ferocity with as much passion as he had.

  “Forever, Étienne. Forever,” she cried out as her body began to yield to the climax.

  He felt his tiger pushing on him. Not desiring to shift, but to bond with her. The tiger insisted, pushing Étienne closer to coming undone.

  That would be the moment to bond, when they met at the pinnacle of their climax.

  When another of Celine’s moans filled the wooded area, matching the one when she’d climaxed earlier, Étienne picked up speed, sliding into her over and over, pounding against her body, yelling her name.

  He leaned in, his mouth on the soft flesh where her shoulder met her neck and dug his canines in while his essence released deeply within her body, melding with her orgasm.

  Celine rested softly in Étienne’s arms, their passions sated, their hearts beating as one. She glanced up at the man she’d give her life for. “That moment, when you bit me, that was…”

  “A bond was formed, a couplebond. We are mated, forever.”

  She sighed, leaned into his chest, her breath warm against his flesh. “Perfect.”

  Epilogue

  A few months later…

  Étienne had moved into Arceneaux Plantation, had shifted his business interests south and lived with the woman he loved on the property he’d come to love.

  He sat on the veranda, enjoying a leisurely weekend breakfast with his mate.

  “I have something to show you,” Celine took his hand.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Hush, no questions. Just come.” Celine led him down the path, past the cabins, making a beeline for the cemetery.

  Étienne saw it long before they came upon it. A glowing, beautiful pink marble stone, dark maroon veins coursing through the pink hues, placed at the head of Nana’s grave.

  “Ah, Celine. You did not. But clearly you did.” He was overwhelmed by emotion. “Words cannot express.”

  She squeezed his hand.

  It was then he noticed. “What’s the second stone about?” another stone, matching his grandmother’s.

  “Your mother.”

  “Really? That’s where she is? I always wondered. Nana never said.”

  “I found some papers in the attic. It seems after your grandmother died, they put her possessions in a trunk. Somehow it ended up in the attic.”

  “And the papers…”

  “Confirmed what I knew. My father may have loved my mother, I don’t feel I have any reason to doubt that, but your mother was the love of his life. He never forgot her. And your grandmother knew that. She also feared for both of them, so she kept Olivia’s grave a secret, and let Phillip leave broken-hearted.”

  For some reason, that gave Étienne a measure of comfort, though he knew if he were asked to explain it, there’d be no way he could.

  Étienne lengthened his strides, eager to see the stones up close.

  There, next to Nana’s marker, the matching one. “Olivia, daughter of Marguerite, loved by Phillip. I left space to add, mother to Étienne.” She studied his face. “If you’d ever like to.”

  He couldn’t speak. Celine was the mate for him. He and his tiger had done well. She was more than his mate. She was his soul mate.

  “Thank you,” he said, barely managing to get the words out, choked with emotion.

  He felt the moisture on his back, knew it wasn’t sweat, knew it had begun as they’d walked near the cabins.

  He knelt at the feet of his mother’s and grandmother’s graves. “Thank you, Celine. Thank you for the tribute to these two remarkable women.”

  One woman who gave birth to him, the other, the woman who raised him.

  “I have more plans for the cemetery. I have bids for upgrading, putting an ornate fence around it, some landscaping.

  “Celine,” he kept his tone gentle. “I want it to stay as is.”

  She quirked a brow. “Truly?”

  “I can’t explain it. I need it to stay the way it is, the way I remember it. Except for the markers.”

  She nodded. “I can appreciate that. I really can.”

  “I told Claudette we’d take her to lunch, but before we go there’s something I want to talk to you about.” Concern flickered in her eyes. “We have to leave the plantation permanently. We cannot stay,” Celine whispered.

  “We cannot leave. This is your home.”

  “I will not choose my home over you.”

  “Why do you have to make a choice?”

  She touched his shoulder gently. “Your back. The blood.”

  “I’m not leaving. This is our home.”

  “Then
you have to let me get you help.”

  “Who can help with this?” he asked. But as soon as the question left his lips, he knew the answer. “You want to take me to see Latrice?”

  “She can help.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you’ve already talked to her?”

  Celine nodded. “We spoke.”

  “In that case, there is something you should know.” There was no way he could keep the truth from her, she was his mate. She was his tiger’s mate.

  He told her about Lucia.

  “Your past is your past. It’s who you are and what made you the man I love. Perhaps one day I can meet Lucia.”

  “She is a remarkable woman,” he said, wishing he knew more about Lucia, wishing he could simply reach out and have her meet his mate, be a part of his life, let her be a part of his.

  Celine accepted Lucia being his daughter better than he’d thought. She took his hand. “Any other secrets I should know about?”

  “None. None that would ever threaten the love I have for you.”

  “I have one for you. Lucia is not the only child, you know,” Celine said.

  “So that’s what I was hearing…” Étienne cocked his head. “A second heartbeat. A baby.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and swung her in a circle, laughing. “We will create a new Arceneaux dynasty.”

  “One that will outshine the tarnish of the past.” Celine laughed. “I’m getting dizzy, Étienne. Slow down.”

  In his head, his tiger roared with happiness.

  The next day, Celine sent for Latrice, who’d met them at the cabins.

  Latrice turned to Étienne, her expression unreadable. “I can make you forget everything.”

  “I do not want to forget everything. There is nothing served from forgetting the evil that men do. I want to always remember, but I have to find a way to live with it.”

  “The bleeding,” Celine added, “it has to stop.”

  “I can do that.”

  Latrice stooped to pick up some dirt, then walked to the nearest cabin and pulled bark off the outside wall. “Come check tomorrow. See if you are free of this.” And just like that, without another word, she was gone.

  The next morning at daybreak, Celine’s lips pressed against Étienne’s, waking him.

  “Woman, did you not get enough of me last night,” he teased.

  A slow growing blush kissed her cheeks. “Let’s test your back.”

  “Now?” He knew already he would pass. He could sense it in his tiger, but he humored his mate, dressed, and led the way to the cabins.

  Étienne strode up to the structures, never missing a beat, Celine behind him, while he just kept on marching, secure in the knowledge that Latrice’s spell had worked. He had felt it work when his tiger had finally been at peace.

  He kept walking until he’d entered his grandmother’s cabin, the remnants of the vampire long cleaned up. It was Nana’s place again. He turned around and around, then raised his shirt over his head.

  “Any blood?”

  Celine kissed the long scars that had healed and never reopened. “Not a bit.”

  She traced each one lovingly. “Will they ever disappear?”

  “They never had before, but perhaps, now, maybe. Do you want them to?” He took her hands in his. “Tell me the truth.”

  “No. They are you. Do you want them to disappear?”

  He’d not thought of that. The only thing he gave thought to these days was life with Celine. “Not sure.”

  “What will you tell our child?”

  “What would you have me tell him?”

  “Him?” She smiled. “Wishful thinking?”

  “Hardly. I can differentiate the heartbeats.”

  “Tell him the truth. It is said, it shall set you free.”

  Étienne lowered his lips to hers.

  “You have set my spirit free.”

  “And you, mine.” She raised to her toes and sealed the covenant of their love.

  The End

  About Elle Thorne

  Elle spends her time writing stories about hot men, sexy women, and the stuff that happens between them. On occasion, those men and women are aliens, shifters, demons. This makes them so much hotter!

  www.ElleThorne.com

  Highlander Blood Moon by Carmen Caine

  Highlander Blood Moon by Carmen Caine

  A message summons Dorian Ramsey home to discover his village ravaged by a mysterious Night Viper and his sister caught in web of treachery. To save her, he must make a choice—a choice that alters his destiny forever.

  Chapter 1

  Wolf Moon

  Present day, New York City

  Dorian Ramsey stood high above New York City, feet placed wide apart on the massive, steel beam of a construction crane. Tossing his head back, he took a deep breath of the crisp night air. The stars in the inky sky twinkled above, mirroring the vast stretch of city lights glimmering beneath his feet.

  But he scarcely noticed either. He saw only the moon.

  Wolf Blood Moon.

  He shuddered, closing his eyes as the pain washed over him.

  “Dorian,” a soft voice echoed in his mind.

  He took a moment to regain control before lifting his lashes and turning to meet his sister Gloria’s concerned gaze.

  She stood there, slim, lanky, and freckled, still looking very much like the young lass of seven hundred years ago—except the hair and clothing. Back then, she’d worn her auburn braids long over the one Ramsey plaid and rough, homespun gown in her keeping. Now, she favored a practical, shoulder-length ponytail and organic t-shirts, jeans, and sneakers.

  “I didn’t want you to be alone,” she said aloud, stepping up and threading her fingers through his. “Not on Wolf Moon.”

  Dorian gave her a crooked smile. “’Tis nothing now save a wondrous night,” he said, wishing that simply saying it would make it so. “The night of our turning.”

  For a moment, they stood in silence, brother and sister. Then she spoke again. “There hasn’t been a Wolf Moon these seven hundred years that I have not blamed myself—”

  “Nay, dinna speak foolish words,” he cut her short. “’Twas destiny, lass. Nothing more.”

  But Gloria didn’t listen. “It’s my fault you haven’t seen the sun—”

  Reaching over, he placed a finger upon her lips. “Nor have you, lass. Enough.”

  Aye, he did miss the sun. Sunlight hadn’t kissed his skin for centuries, nor had he witnessed the beauty of white clouds towering in an azure sky. Of all things, he missed sunlight the most. While night held its own dark allure, nothing replaced the warmth of daylight.

  But on Wolf Blood Moon, the pain welling deep in his soul had little to do with the light of day.

  Gloria’s next words reopened his wound and seared through his heart. “I can’t forgive myself, Dorian. I’m the one who ripped you away from her … your Elizabeth.”

  At the sound of her name, his lips parted in a silent gasp. Elizabeth. Lady Elizabeth Rowle. The love of his life.

  “I did it,” Gloria whispered, bowing her head.

  “Ach, you were a lass and still a bairn at heart,” Dorian murmured, throwing his arm about her slender shoulders and drawing her close in a warm hug. “’Twas over seven hundred years ago. ‘Tis time we thought of other things, aye? There’s no use dwelling on the past. We’ve serious matters to attend to now.”

  She responded to that by lifting her chin and allowing her blue eyes to flash a little. “At last.”

  Dorian expelled a breath from his nose. He recognized the look. “Do you think of ought else other than revenge, wee fool?” he asked mildly. “Revenge breeds mistakes.”

  “I’m not going to make any mistakes this time. This time, I’m righting the wrongs,” she swore, jamming her hands into her jean pockets. But then her brow clouded. Suddenly, his fierce wee sister appeared vulnerable. Unsure. She continued, “Emilio’s trying to retrieve the rest of the … the Mindbreaker’s po
wers for him … it’s all happening again, isn’t it?”

  Few still knew how uncomfortably close the Mindbreaker had come to reasserting his unholy control over the Charmed those seven hundred years ago. And back then, the Italian vampire, Emilio Marchesi, had been in the thick of things, twisting Gloria to his bidding before ripping everything from Dorian’s soul. Revenge. Aye, he could understand it. But he couldn’t live with himself should he let revenge eat at his soul.

  “Happening again?” he repeated with a wry twist of his lip. “I dinna think it ever ended, lass. But we’ll stop Emilio and we’ll find the Mindbreaker this time. He’s blundered by fathering Cassidy. He’ll be close to her. We’ll find him.”

  No sooner had he said Cassidy Edward’s name than he knew he’d made a mistake. Ach, Gloria couldn’t control her hatred of the Mindbreaker’s wee, monster-cursed daughter, a being even less ‘alive’ than himself.

  “She’s dangerous, Dorian,” Gloria spat. “She’ll finish what her father started. We won’t be able to stop them. No one can stop her. I tried.”

  “Aye, and that I know,” he stated mildly, knowing full well that Gloria had ‘killed’ Cassidy over a dozen times, just as he once had himself. But her banshee, specter soul combined with Lucian Rowle’s puppet curse rendered her as immortal as any vampire—maybe even more so.

  “She can’t be anything but evil,” his sister continued stubbornly. “We must find a way to destroy her, but we’ll have to take out the warlock first. Lord Lucian Rowle must—”

  Lord Lucian Rowle. Of late and for some inexplicable reason, every fiber of Dorian’s being jolted at the mention of the lad’s name. Instinct opened his lips, and he heard himself disagree, “No. No. You’re wrong.”

  Gloria’s lips thinned.

  Dorian took a deep breath and for the first time, spoke words he hadn’t known he’d carried deep in his heart. Perhaps it was the fault of the moon. Perhaps it wasn’t. It didn’t matter. For the first time, it was almost a relief to acknowledge what he’d long sought to bury. “I canna harm him, Gloria. The lad … he has her eyes.”