Lucifer (Vampires in America: The Vampire Wars Book 11)

by D. B. Reynolds

  Once inside, he closed the door, then crossed to the big windows, checking to make sure they were closed and locked, before securing the shutters and pulling the drapes against the thinning darkness.

  When he turned from that task, Eleanor was watching him with a new wariness, as if she’d finally realized how truly, dangerously angry he was.

  Lucifer took his time, intentionally doing a thorough scan of the room, to be certain he hadn’t missed any danger that might have snuck in during the night. And then he stalked toward Eleanor with all the deadly intent of the alpha predator he was. His attention was focused and unwavering, catching every furtive movement that signaled her intent to escape, every spark of defiance in her big, blue eyes.

  She glanced over at the closed door to her bedroom and began to back away in that direction, as if that flimsy barrier could stop him.

  “Lucifer,” she said slowly, warning him off. But he was too far gone for that.

  He strode right into her personal space and grabbed her upper arms, careful to temper his strength despite his anger. Her vampire physiology could handle far more than a little rough handling, and would sustain little or no damage, but that didn’t matter. This was Eleanor. He could never intentionally hurt her.

  “Don’t you ever risk your life to defend mine,” he snarled.

  Eleanor stared at him. She’d known he was angry, but clearly hadn’t understood why. It didn’t take her long to recover, though, as surprise was quickly eclipsed by outrage.

  “Are you kidding me?” she snarled right back at him. “Hello! This is what I do. You get that, right? You might be the vampire version of Sherlock Holmes, but I’m a fucking bodyguard, you ass! I’ll risk whatever I need to—”

  “The hell you will. You’re not my bodyguard. You’re too important to waste your—”

  “Important? I’m nobody, a security grunt. You’re way more—”

  “You’re important to me, damn it. I lost you once, and I won’t do it again. I can’t.”

  His growled words shocked both of them into stillness, inches apart, staring at each other, their chests heaving with angry, uneven breaths.

  When they finally moved, it was as one, pouncing on each other, attacking with teeth and nails, shredding clothing, nipping hungrily at every newly bared inch of skin. Moving his grip to her waist, Lucifer lifted her off her feet and slammed her against the wall, holding her there with the press of his upper body, as he ripped off the rest of her clothes . . . until there was nothing left, nothing beneath his fingers, nothing under his lips, except smooth, delicious skin. Eleanor. Christ. It had been so long since he’d touched her, so long since he’d first loved her, and yet nothing had changed. His senses remembered every tiny detail.

  Her skin was still creamy pale and silky soft, her neck an elegant column as he licked his way down to the full, round globes of her breasts, with their petal pink areolas and large nipples. She moaned when he rasped his tongue over the swollen tips, crying out when he bit down gently, not breaking the skin, not yet. He’d waited twenty-three years to taste her again. He was going to make it last, lingering over every single lick and suck, and then he was going to fuck her until she screamed his name just the way she used to.

  “Lucifer,” she moaned. It wasn’t the scream he’d be hearing later, but the soft, hungry sound had his dick stiffening, crushed against the zipper of his jeans, as he recalled every moan, every cry she’d ever uttered, as clearly as if he’d just left her in his bed a few hours ago.

  The realization crushed him.

  He stopped, and cupped her face in his hands, studying every perfect detail. “Eleanor,” he whispered, trying to convince himself that this was real. He’d had this dream so many times; he half-expected to wake up and find her gone.

  Her beautiful blue eyes opened, filled with crystal tears. “Lucifer?”

  “I love you, bella,” he murmured against her mouth as he kissed her. He took his time about it, savoring the brush of her soft lips, the stroke of her tongue against his as they tangled in a slow, sensuous dance. A tear slid down her cheek to mingle with their kiss, and Lucifer licked it up, relishing the satiny, salty flavor as he followed it to her elegant jaw and down even farther. Running his tongue along the smooth line of her neck, he sucked gently, scenting the rush of her vampire blood beneath the skin, feverishly hot and spiced with euphoric.

  He lifted his head with a growl, his eyes clearing as he gazed at her, worshiping her body with his eyes and hands, stroking the firm muscles of her smooth arms, a vampire’s muscles. Stronger now than when he’d last made love to her, but more beautiful than ever. He leaned back just enough to drag his hungry gaze up and down her body, lingering at the sight of her pale pussy with its bare dusting of curly blond hair. She was perfection.

  “Put your legs around me,” he growled, and pressed her up against the wall once more, freeing a hand to rip open his own jeans, reaching in and fisting his cock as she obeyed, lifting her slender legs, vampire strong, to band around his hips, holding him tightly, as if fearing he’d try to escape.

  Never.

  Studying her with eyes narrowed beneath half-lowered lids, he pumped his cock with deliberate slowness, up and down, seeing the desire in her gaze that matched his own.

  “Lucifer,” she whispered, betraying a thread of anxiety that he’d leave her empty and longing, aching. His heart soared and his cock swelled at the soft pleading in her voice, the need. For him.

  Guiding his cock to the heated opening of her sex, he teased her, rubbing the tip in the satiny cream between her swollen pussy lips, feeling the sticky wetness of her thighs that gave proof of her arousal. Eleanor’s head rolled back against the wall, and her eyes closed as she repeated his name over and over again.

  Lucifer held back, reveling in the feeling of having Eleanor in his arms once again, wet and begging for his cock. He remembered everything about her, had dreamed of this moment so many times. From the earliest days of her leaving, when he’d been certain she’d return, to the desperate realization that she was gone forever. He’d never stopped longing for her, had still dreamed that someday he would find her.

  And now that the moment had come, he didn’t want it to end. He wanted to remember every second of this night, to burn into his memory the elegant curve of her cheek and brow, the delicate flush of her pale skin, and the golden silk of her hair as it fell over her creamy shoulders. It was all so familiar, and yet, it was if he was learning her for the first time.

  His cock jerked hungrily. Lucifer might want to stare at her for hours, but his dick had other plans.

  “Look at me,” he ordered.

  Her eyes flashed open. He hesitated a fraction of a second, and then pushed deep into her body, riding her slick arousal into the hot, tight glove of her cunt. So tight. If she hadn’t been so thoroughly aroused, he’d have been hard pressed to squeeze his way into her pussy.

  He’d no sooner had the thought, and wondered at the reasons for her tightness, than they both froze, staring at each other, shock and desire warring in their identical gazes.

  “Lucifer,” she murmured, as fresh tears filled her eyes.

  “Baby,” he whispered, his chest aching with emotion, with fucking relief that he’d found her, that she was safe, and she was his. No matter what else came of this hunt, he was never letting Eleanor go.

  Gripping the firm round globes of her ass, he held her in place and fucked her, pounding in and out of her slick pussy, driven by the agony and frustration of all those years of wondering where she was, and why she’d gone. He fucked her mindlessly, determined to imprint on her body, to brand her soul, so that she’d never leave him again.

  ELEANOR’S HEART was racing, thudding against her rib cage like a trapped animal, as Lucifer fucked her so much harder than he ever had before. He’d always been a wonderful lover, so car
ing, so skilled. And almost too gentle. But he wasn’t being gentle tonight. He was ferocious and greedy, an animal claiming his mate, pounding his big cock in and out of her body, until she could feel the heat of its passage along the delicate tissues of her trembling sheath.

  She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close, needing the skin to skin contact of her breasts against his massive chest, her nipples scraping the scattering of soft, dark hair spread over his pectorals. But more than the contact, she needed to hide the hot tears flooding from her eyes to soak into the skin of his neck. It wasn’t pain. Or rather it was, but not from the brutal slam of his delicious cock. It was the realization of everything she’d missed, everything she’d thrown away. This moment and a thousand like it, with Lucifer’s gorgeous eyes filled with such joy, such relief at having found her.

  She couldn’t remember anymore why she’d ever run.

  The suppressed emotions finally spilled out of her in a choked sob. Her lips opened against his neck, sucking up the salty sweat, the slight taste of blood. It made her hunger for him. She wanted every part of him to be hers. She bit into his skin, burying her tears in the heady taste of his blood . . . vampire lord’s blood, powerful and intoxicating. He might not be a lord yet, but he would be someday. Blood didn’t lie. And she drank it in like the sweetest nectar.

  Lucifer growled, and his cock seemed to swell inside of her as his blood flowed from her bite, dripping down her chin. His fingers speared through her hair, and he squeezed, gripping so tightly that her scalp burned, the pain mingling with the seduction of his blood. Her pussy convulsed, grasping his cock so tightly that he could no longer move.

  They groaned in the same moment, hers muffled where her lips were still molded to his skin, his a deep vibration of warm air against her ear.

  “Eleanor,” he murmured, like a prayer, and then he started moving again, forcing his way through the greedy clutches of her pussy, scraping every tiny nerve and muscle as he thrust in and out.

  Glorious sensation spread from her pussy to her clit, throbbing, pounding in time with her heart. Each pulsing beat was a fresh wave of erotic pleasure, until she thought she’d shatter with the sheer, overwhelming passion of it. But Lucifer held her together. Lucifer with his strong arms and powerful blood, with the love that seared her soul with every glance from his golden eyes.

  “Come, Eleanor,” he snarled. Uncompromising, a demand. His gaze was hard and deadly as he stared down at her. But it wasn’t the demand that sent a spark of desire shooting from her clit to the tips of her breasts. It was the vulnerability that hid behind the cruelty in his eyes.

  Eleanor screamed as her body surrendered to the need in Lucifer’s gaze, drowning in the ecstasy that swept over her in waves, each swell deeper than the last, lighting up her nerves and bowing her back, as Lucifer’s fingers dug into her ass, holding her open to his carnal assault until, with a guttural roar, his cock bucked and he filled her with a rush of heat.

  LUCIFER DRIFTED, sliding his cock lazily in and out of Eleanor’s creamy pussy, smiling at her occasional gasp when her body jolted, as if firing the final sparks of her climax. She clung to him, her arms loose around his neck, her breath hot on the still throbbing wound where she’d bitten deeply enough to drink his blood. He rubbed a soothing hand down her back. His blood was potent, and not something he shared lightly. In fact, he’d never shared blood before with any other vampire.

  But now, Eleanor was his. He’d claimed her with his blood, and his cock.

  And as for the rest, for Eleanor’s half of the claiming? He didn’t need to drink any of her blood to be hers. He was already. She’d claimed his heart a long time ago.

  Moving his hands to a more secure grip on her sweet ass, he straightened, pulling her away from the wall. Eleanor murmured a soft protest, and he shifted to carry her in his arms, heading for his bedroom.

  She was in his bed now. Back where she belonged. And where she was going to stay.

  Chapter Seven

  ELEANOR WOKE ALL at once, the way she always did since becoming Vampire. And as always, she lay perfectly still, taking in her surroundings, running down a checklist of sound and smell . . . She froze for a long moment, and then sighed in almost reluctant pleasure.

  Lucifer.

  She could never forget this. The intense heat of his body, the masculine scent. The sheer size of him that had always made her feel so delicate. So safe.

  She was a vampire now, strong and capable. A highly trained bodyguard who could take down a man or woman three times her size, whether vampire or human. She wasn’t a potential lord like Lucifer, but she had power, and she knew how to channel it into her fists and feet, wielding her bo staff with deadly skill. She had far more power than her petite frame might indicate, and she certainly didn’t need anyone to take care of her anymore.

  But that didn’t make her feel any less cherished when Lucifer wrapped his big arms around her and pulled her against his chest, surrounding her with his powerful body. Because it wasn’t his physical size or his vampiric power, it was love. Lucifer had always loved her. She’d never doubted that.

  Until she hadn’t been human anymore.

  The treacherous thought made her stiffen in his arms, made her remember all the reasons she’d run. Reasons that still held true.

  “Talk to me, Eleanor.”

  “About what?” she said cautiously, but she already knew. He’d felt her stiffen, how could he not? He wasn’t asking her for conversation, he wanted the talk.

  “Eleanor,” he chided. “Tell me what you’re thinking. Tell me why you hate it when I manipulate humans into spilling their guts, or even when I killed that vampire bastard, Torres.” His arms banded abruptly tighter, preventing her from escaping . . . again. “God damn it, Eleanor, tell me why you ran away.”

  “I told you. I didn’t think you’d want me after—”

  “Why?” The single word was filled with such grief that she felt guilty. Because the truth was that she’d known within days of running that she’d made a mistake. She’d told herself that she couldn’t go back, that Derek Pratt, the bastard who’d changed her, would claim his rights as her Sire. But it was a lie. She simply hadn’t wanted to see the look in Lucifer’s eyes, the disappointment that she was no longer human, or even worse, that as a vampire she wasn’t strong enough to be useful.

  She’d learned the lie of that eventually, too. Once she’d pledged her loyalty to Lucien, the old Canadian vampire lord, and then to Sophia as his successor. She’d been shown the true nature and depth of her power. But by then, it was too late. Her path was set, and so was Lucifer’s. And they were thousands of miles and years of history apart.

  Eleanor buried her face in the warm crook of his neck, her arms around him, squeezing tightly, as if she could make up for the pain she’d caused him if she just held on long enough.

  “I’m sorry,” she said against his skin. “I was just so confused.”

  He sighed, his body slumping against her in surrender. She felt even guiltier than before, but more than that, she felt humbled by the abiding nature of his love. That after all these years, and all the pain she’d caused him, he loved her exactly the same.

  “Tell me what happened. Tell me what he did to you.” There was reluctance in his voice, but it was tempered by determination, by the need to know.

  “He didn’t rape me, Lucifer,” she assured him softly. “It wasn’t that.”

  He laughed sharply. “Oh, I know that, cara. I scrubbed that fucker’s brain to shreds before I let him die.”

  She winced.

  “That,” he snapped. “That right there. Tell me what the hell happened that makes you reject me mind-fucking even that asshole Derek Pratt. If anyone deserved—”

  “It’s not him,” she interrupted, and felt him stiffen against her.

  “Someone else? Tell
me who, and I’ll—”

  “No. Jesus, Lucifer, you can’t hunt down and kill every vampire I’ve encountered in the last two decades.”

  “Try me,” he snarled, and she breathed a soft laugh.

  “The problem is me,” she explained. “I mean, yeah, it started with what Pratt did to me, but I didn’t understand back then.”

  “Understand what? That you had the right to consent to whatever the hell he wanted from you?”

  “But that’s just it. I did consent. But it wasn’t because I wanted to. He invaded my thoughts, took over my will. He made me want what he was offering, made me want him.”

  “Tell me,” he demanded. And so, she let her mind drift back to that awful night.

  1993 New Orleans, Louisiana, USA

  ELEANOR HAD NO idea where she was. It was dark, and vaguely musty smelling. Like the place needed a good scrubbing. She lay perfectly still, terrified, struggling to remember. Where was she? How had she gotten here? And then her memory slowly returned, and she wished it hadn’t—Derek crushing her against his body, his hands everywhere, squeezing her breasts, her ass, even—she shuddered to remember—even shoving his fingers into her pussy, while she writhed in his arms.

  She sat up, choking on the horror of what Derek had done, of what she’d become. And with it came the knowledge of where she must be. This was Derek’s place, and he’d brought her here. She did a cringing survey of her body, dreading what she might find. She was naked, which was bad. But other than sore breasts, and some minor tenderness between her thighs, there was nothing. He might have intended to rape her, but something had delayed him. Maybe he’d feared Lucifer would show up at her place, which should have been true. Where was Lucifer?

  A door opened across the room, casting a pale rectangle of light on the dark room. Eleanor raised a hand to shade her eyes against a light that seemed far too bright for what it was.