A Torrid Celebration!

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A Torrid Celebration! Page 10

by Whiskey Creek Press Authors


  "Oh, that's amazing.” She tilted her hips up and down while she watched him eat her. “Don't stop. Oooh, don't stop!” She stroked his curls. He pleasured her with a combination of licking, sucking, and biting; she was his moaning convert.

  "You'll beg me for release before I'm finished with you, my sweet." His telepathic words heightened her experience as intended.

  He played and explored before swiftly penetrating her with two fingers. “Mmm...” She pumped her hips to meet his thrusting fingers.

  He stroked until her muscles clamped around his fingers, then withdrew them. “I want more,” she moaned.

  He rose. “Oh, I haven't even begun, my love.” He wound his fingers in her hair and kissed her hard. “Your turn,” he whispered.

  Nadia unbuttoned his white shirt and peeled it off his broad shoulders. His form was superb, his skin smooth and unblemished. She leaned in and kissed his neck and chest. The scents of musk and sandalwood pervaded her senses. She slid her hands over his muscular torso and down to his abdomen. “Hmmm ... perfect."

  Nadia caught his look and smiled. She slid down, unbelted his dark trousers, and lowered them along with his underwear. Once he was completely naked, his form rivaled Michelangelo's finest sculptures.

  She enclosed his cock in her hand, her tongue batting across the engorged head. She sucked and drew it inside her mouth, her teeth lightly grazing his flesh. Her lips sucked, and her tongue molded around his cock. She worked her fist up and down, following her mouth, until he stiffened and was about to come. Then she stilled all movement.

  "Arrgh! Pleasure me.” He thrust his hips at her. “Now."

  "Patience, my dear.” She laughed softly as she began to fondle and kiss his cock again.

  He groaned his appreciation as his dark eyes pierced her, watching her suck him off.

  Beautiful and thick, his cock pulsed against her lips. It tasted delicious against her circling tongue. She suckled the engorged head, enjoying its silkiness.

  He thrust his hips at her, his fingers tightening in her hair. “Ah. Suck it all."

  She obliged, eventually taking his entire penis inside her mouth. It wasn't long before he spilled his excitement down her throat, and she savored his distinct flavor.

  He pulled her up his body, wrapped his arms about her waist, and buried his face in her hair. “You're perfect,” he whispered. “I knew intimacy would be as good for us as it was eight hundred years ago."

  "My dream male has come at last.” She stroked his rich curls, savoring their silkiness. “I am again questioning whether this is real."

  "You're not crazy,” he said, kissing his way over the side of Nadia's face to her forehead.

  Being in his arms feels so right to me, better than the dreams, more enriching than anything I've ever experienced. Giddy with excitement, she couldn't help smiling.

  "It's time to use that golden key,” he said, once he'd recovered.

  "What's it for?"

  "Come, and I'll show you.” They now stood before a closed timber door. “Open it."

  "Will I be able to transport myself as you do?"

  He grinned. “Of course, my love."

  Her heart hammering, she turned and fiddled with the key until it unlocked the door. She angled her head and met his intense gaze, and he nodded. “Go on.” She pushed the door wide to reveal a room full of chanting immortals, all of them surrounding a stone altar.

  "It's not just some reoccurring dream this time. It's actually real,” Nadia whispered, more to herself than to Charles. She reached out to him, sighing in relief as their hands connected and long fingers laced with hers.

  "Don't be afraid. I am right here with you."

  "I-I know you are.” She gulped for air. I trust him. Now that I know this is real, I want this badly, but it doesn't stop me from feeling anxious.

  "Do you remember your promise to me?” He caressed her cheek.

  She nodded. “One I'm very happy to fulfill. I can't go yet, though. What about Muffie, my cat?"

  He kissed her gently. “Bruce is my guardian; he'll fetch her for you."

  "But..."

  "I trust him with my existence."

  "Very well. Muffie is extremely sensitive, though. She likes tuna for breakfast and warmed milk all day long."

  He smiled softly. “Your cat will be here with us tomorrow. She'll be fine."

  "What about my work?"

  "You can still write novels, you endearing creature. I can't have you getting bored now."

  She sighed in relief. “That's good."

  "You'll do all the things you do now, with the exception of waking in the morning, exposing yourself to sunlight, visiting human residences without permission, and consuming human food."

  "At the restaurant?"

  "Oh.” He nodded in understanding. “Our own special wine."

  "Blood."

  "Hmm."

  "I see. You watched me, didn't you?"

  "You know I did."

  "I felt you."

  "Anything else?” He waited patiently.

  "No. I have all I need now."

  "Come, then.” He led her to the altar. “They must witness our union and your making."

  "Lovemaking, too?"

  He nodded. “It's part of the ritual."

  "Oh."

  "We just pleasured one another in front of others downstairs. Does it matter?"

  She giggled. “No. I guess not."

  "How do you feel?"

  "A little scared."

  He squeezed her hand. “I won't let anything dire happen to you."

  "I know. I trust you, Charles, my beloved."

  "Ah, ‘tis all coming back to you, milady."

  "Indeed ‘tis, my lord. A relief to know I'm not completely bonkers."

  Charles led her to the altar amid the rising chants. Once there, he scooped her up in his arms and laid her on the altar, then positioned himself beside her. “Forget about them. There's only you and I.” He bent and kissed her trembling lips. “Don't be afraid. I'll not leave you, not ever. ‘Tis forever, my beloved. From this day on, we are one. What wounds you, hurts me.” His captivating eyes searched hers. “There'll be no others, understand?"

  "I do understand, and I would have you no other way. I pledge to devote myself to you. I'll always be loyal. I need nor want any other, Charles."

  "And I promise to devote myself to you, my darling. I am yours and yours alone. No one else has, or will ever have my heart."

  "Awww. Come here, you beautiful male."

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged. His lips tenderly brushed hers, his tongue sweeping over her lower lip before he moved to nuzzle her cheek and neck. As he moved over her, she clung to him, opening her legs and resting her feet on his ass. His cock was poised at her entrance, then his dark gaze ensnared hers as he gradually filled her.

  "Oh, Charles.” She arched up to take all of him.

  "Oh, baby, you feel beautiful,” he said hoarsely.

  She ran her hands down his back and pressed her feet against his ass. Drawing him closer, she arched her hips to meet his.

  "Oh, that's it,” he said hoarsely. His breath fanned her neck, his tongue sweeping along its pulsing vein.

  "Oooh."

  Her trembling heat constricted his thickness as every mouthwatering inch of him filled her. Nadia trembled as his teeth raked the column of her throat. She wrapped her legs around him tightly and spurred him on.

  The immortals chanted even louder.

  Her belly tightened. “Oh, Charles."

  He thrust into her with measured consideration, drawing out her pleasure, urging her towards an intense orgasm. Her pussy contracted with his throbbing heat.

  His mouth teased her throat as his powerful form trembled violently. Sharp incisors bit into her neck and pain sliced through her body. His lips suctioned onto her neck, and he feasted as though he'd been starving.

  She tried to dislodge him but he was too powerful, and her strength was r
apidly depleting. “Charles!"

  Nadia welcomed the darkness which blotted out the remaining light.

  His soothing voice brought her back from the brink, and she followed the stream until she could make out his words. Something splattered on her lips and then into her mouth. It was blood—his blood.

  "Drink my blood. Bond with me forever, my love."

  She swallowed weakly at first, but her strength improved as she drank. Her body felt strangely sensitive, her senses more acute. The more she drank, the more effervescent she felt. She liked the taste of him, and his scent too.

  Charles removed his wrist, stilling her hand when she tried to fetch it back. “You've had enough for now.” He stroked her cheek. “Get some rest, my beautiful bride."

  "Nocturnal offering?” she added.

  "Much better,” he whispered. He smiled and gently kissed her mouth. “The dawn brings forth your rebirth. It will be my greatest pleasure to share that with you."

  Nadia followed the lone crimson tear that tracked down his cheek with an index finger. “I love you, Charles."

  "And I you, Nadia."

  "Forever, yes."

  He nodded. “Forever. I promise."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  MASKED DESIRES

  by

  Christy Poff

  Chapter 1

  "You can't be serious!” Kate gasped.

  "I am very serious,” Ava Clinton stated emphatically. “Steven's gay. I caught him with his lover and believe me—I couldn't wait to get away from them. If only he'd been honest..."

  "But why did he hide it? The company's so open about different lifestyles."

  "Except when you're trying for a huge promotion and appearances mean everything."

  "But surely it's not like that,” Kate argued.

  "Evidently it is very much so,” Ava said. “He needed the perfect girlfriend to impress Matthew Lord."

  "I'd take that as a compliment if he..."

  "I wouldn't have minded if he'd only been honest and up front."

  "Hey, ladies,” Jaime Earl said as she passed by on her way to the copy room. “Are you going to the costume party?"

  "What costume party?” Ava asked.

  "The annual one the Lords host. It always falls after the last krewe marches in the Krewe of Bacchus Parade. It's a lot of fun."

  "I doubt I'll go,” Ava said. “I hate going alone and besides, aren't most of those parties by invitation only?"

  "I'm sure we can get you one,” Jaime assured Ava.

  "Don't go to any trouble. I'm not sure I want to party at this point."

  "That's exactly what you need to do,” Kate stated. “After Stevie boy, you need to get out and see what life has to offer."

  "You make me sound like I'm a damned basket case. Besides, if I do, I'd be crashing some party I'm not invited to."

  They chatted a few moments more before returning to their desks after lunch. On Ava's desk sat a white envelope with gold lettering, her name written in flourishes and swirls. She took it and slid it into her desk drawer, not wanting the others to see it and start making a fuss about it.

  In New Orleans, gala parties after the parades usually raised money for various causes and most people who attended had lighter wallets when they left to go home. She knew she couldn't afford to go so she resigned herself to attending one or two of the larger parades then going home and watching the highlights on the local news channels the night after. All-in-all, she enjoyed her life but she'd taken a hit to her confidence when she learned exactly who Steven Ridge pretended to be. Why didn't he just come out and tell me? I would have helped him...

  Ava went through the stack of papers on her desk dealing with Lord, Limited. A small but very influential firm, they dealt with high-tech electronics for the auto industry and several other fields. Her boss happened to be the son of the owner—Matthew Lord, III—a tall man with light brown hair, brown eyes to match and a smile that melted her every time she saw it. She'd heard him sing once, remembering his gorgeous baritone voice. She preferred his take on Sixteen Tons because it sounded to her like he'd gone just a little lower on some notes than Tennessee Ernie Ford did in the original.

  She caught herself watching him at times, trying to act nonchalant about the fact he sent heat through her just by saying hi. She pushed these thoughts aside, sorting the stack of papers into piles then filing them. She picked up a piece of paper he'd written some notes on, jolting from the heat she felt coming off the paper. What the...

  "Ava, could you get me the file for Jaguar?"

  "Yes, sir,” she said before she stood and walked across the office to the file room and the cabinet where the file she wanted sat. Finding it, she took it into his office and placed it on his desk then turned to leave.

  "Thank you, Ava,” Lord said. “Will you be available for a business trip the Monday after the ball?"

  "I don't see a problem so, yes,” she answered, not needing to look at a calendar. As far as she knew, her social calendar would be open for a long time.

  "Good, make reservations for you and me in London."

  "The usual hotel and..."

  "Yes, whatever,” he said, not once taking his eyes from the document he read.

  "Right away,” she said. She walked out of the office closing the door behind her.

  Yeah, right—me with him? Never happen...

  * * * *

  Matthew Lord watched her out of the corner of his eye, his cock straining to find comfort inside the woman he'd been in love with for months. Considering his father's policy on interoffice relationships, he'd tried extremely hard not to betray his true feelings for Ava Clinton but each day it became more and more impossible.

  She promoted to her present position as his personal secretary when Mrs. Cleary suddenly passed away. His mother had offered to help find a replacement but Matthew quickly told her he'd take care of it. He didn't tell his mother he'd seen the perfect replacement and wanted to get to know her on a more intimate level—years before, his father would never hear of anything like that. Matthew kept his feelings secret, hired Ava eight months before and lived in agony ever since.

  Physical desire had gotten the better of him and pushed him to secretly place a gold-engraved invitation to the Lord, Limited's annual costume ball on her desk while she went on break with two friends. He watched her slide the envelope into her desk drawer, obviously not wanting the others to know she'd received it—definitely a point in her favor.

  He realized if anything happened between them, her friends might be involved in one way or another and he'd decided if keeping them in the loop so to speak would help keep her in his life, he'd bear their presence. He had never been overly fond of them, feeling they truly didn't appreciate Ava. He'd learned Ava Clinton was a caring, gentle and giving woman who had the misfortune of befriending the wrong people.

  Matthew Lord, III, had never been a snob but he was a good judge of character. Jaime and Kate could be very nice but they wanted what Ava had and he could tell she sometimes mistook their emotions for something innocent. He knew both had been openly jealous of Ava's promotion and it bothered him—Ava didn't need betrayal.

  He thought of Steve—her recently outed ex-boyfriend. By accident, Matthew learned of Steve's relationship with his male lover and the reason he'd kept it hidden. Another wanting a promotion, he went old school and found someone who could be considered the perfect girl to be with in order to get where he wanted. Because of some extremely calculated timing on Matthew's part, Ava had walked in on Steve and his lover in her bed.

  I hate that it happened but you needed to find out...

  Matthew had gotten rid of two thorns in his side when Ava learned the truth. First, how could he honestly trust a man in a high-level position when he couldn't be honest about his love life? That alone told Matthew more than he needed to know about the man. Second, it got the asshole out of Ava's life. Now I can see if she'll even consider me.

  He had taken the
first step by inviting her to the ball. Now will she go?

  Matthew saw her through the small side window at the door and could no longer take their close proximity. He called her, told her he planned to leave for the day then hightailed it out his private entrance. He walked down the street to a door leading to a private men's club and went inside.

  He'd been a member for years—another secret kept from his father. If only you knew about this ... What he adored about the place—it had been kept as the original owner intended. Brant Dalton opened The Men's Club in the twenties as a way he and his friends could enjoy vices while Prohibition loomed. Membership had been by invitation only and had remained that way to the present. Brant had made a haven for men to go eat, drink and be happy—in more ways than one.

  Right now, Matthew needed some relief. He hoped this would be one of the last times he'd have need of Valerie's attentions but if the encounter at the ball didn't work out, he knew he'd be back.

  * * * *

  Ava pulled the white envelope from her desk drawer and slipped it into her handbag. After grabbing her jacket, she put it on then left the office for another uneventful night at home. Since her break-up, she'd experienced many of them and this evening would be no exception.

  Stopping for Chinese take-out on the way home, she decided if the envelope turned out to be what she thought, she'd go and enjoy the evening. Hell, a masked ball—no one will know me...

  Once home, she ate her dinner while it was still hot—won ton soup and cashew shrimp did wonders when she felt down. After that, she took a long hot bath, soaking in magnolia scented bath oil. Afterward, she went to her bag and finally looked at the mysterious envelope—hand addressed in gold script.

  Slowly, she slid the contents out discovering a coveted invitation to the Lords’ Annual Masked Ball. She couldn't believe it though she wanted to know why after all this time. She'd been at the office for the better part of eight years and had never received an invitation. Now she trembled holding it.

 

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