Wicked Seduction (Venice Vampyr Book 5)

by Michele Hauf

  "What has happened?"

  "She fainted," Marcello said. "Why are you two out? I left Jane…" Well pleased in bed. Why her sudden need to dress and go out? Had she followed him? "Do you even know where you are?"

  "No, I became lost. As I suspect Jane did, as well. I saw her leave the palazzo and ran to grab my cloak to follow her, but she walks so swiftly at times. She likes to walk in the moonlight. A habit that ever vexes me. And when she twisted around corner after corner, I momentarily got turned around. Why did she faint?"

  "Not sure." He lifted the light woman into his arms. The hug of her breasts against his chest reminded him how, not long ago, he'd had them in his mouth as he'd licked and suckled at them. How her moans of pleasure had made him so hard—and unwilling to take her completely—he'd had to seek a more intense satisfaction with blood.

  "Home is that way," he muttered and stalked onward.

  At the palazzo, he deposited Jane on her bed and left her to Prudence's care. He sent up water and tea and then retired to his room. With a clutch of the heavy drapes to bring the space to utter blackness, he hissed in frustration.

  The woman had once told him she liked surprises. But only the good ones. Surely, if she had seen clearly tonight, such a surprise had shocked her.

  Why did he care what she thought of him? She was…an obnoxious Englishwoman. An overly dramatic female taken to fainting spells and long streams of conversation that meant little to nothing. And yet, she appealed to him on a deeper level than the lust that had drawn him to kiss her mouth and her breasts and lift her skirts to tease at thrusting himself inside her.

  There was something about Jane Emery that had gotten inside him. And it was sweeter than blood.

  Yet, if she learned what he was, that could change everything.

  * * *

  After sipping tea until she felt ready to drown, Jane tucked into bed. About half an hour later, she heard Prudence slip out of the room. The woman had an eye for Marcello's servant, Adamo, and Jane would not begrudge the woman her late-night liaisons.

  And thinking of a late-night liaison, she sat up and pushed the linens aside, dangling her feet over the side of the bed. What she'd seen in the alleyway when Marcello had turned to her… It hadn't been real, had it?

  "Yes," she whispered, clutching a hand to her chest. "I saw his teeth." And the blood.

  Was he really one of those creatures she'd oft read about in the penny bloods—the brief serial novels so captivating with their artistic woodcut covers—or those she’d made up her own versions of in childhood tales? But he was a man. A very handsome and kind man. Signore Sebastiani was not a creature.

  She tapped her teeth, wondering. Pondering.

  She wouldn't sleep peacefully tonight. Not without learning the truth.

  Slipping into her robe, she tied it loosely over her nightgown and wandered down the hallway and up the stairs to the fourth floor. The entire level was his private area. She shouldn't presume that he would want to speak to her. He'd left her to her own devices after carrying her in. He may have thought she followed him earlier. But the boldness that shivered up her spine and gave her a warm thrill urged her forward. They had been intimate with one another. Surely, he would allow her to question him about what she had seen. And if he had nothing to hide? All would be well.

  The door to his bedchamber was open a crack. It was dark within, save for a glimmer from candlelight. Jane quietly crept forward, daring to invade his room without permission. He would not leave a lit candle unattended. And while she should call out, announce herself, she did not.

  When she stood in the center of the room on the plush Aubusson carpeting, she spied him leaning over a vanity. He wore no coat and his trousers hung low on his hips. No shirt to hide the broad back and impossible muscles that the candlelight bronzed invitingly. She'd love to lash her tongue over those ridges and contours, tasting him, feeding upon his virile sexual energy.

  Jane gasped at her audacious thoughts.

  Marcello spun about, but this time, he did not flash fangs at her. Instead, he clutched a frustrated fist before him and let it fall to his side. "You must stop doing that!"

  "Doing what?"

  "Sneaking up behind me. You dare to enter my bedchamber unannounced?"

  She inhaled deeply then let her shoulders drop resolutely. "I do dare. As you have dared so much with invading my personal boundaries."

  "You allowed that invasion. Quite happily, if I recall."

  So stating her weakness for his touch wasn't going to win him any points now.

  "I've come to get some answers."

  Marcello winced and then shoved a hand through his hair. "I've no answers to the greater universe. What makes the world spin? Where is God? Or what makes a man's heart beat."

  "Are you a creature?" There had been no other way to go about it but to put it boldly out there like that. Jane clutched her fingers into loose fists, then shoved them behind her back, clinging to the bravery that threatened to fade. "I saw you in the alleyway."

  "You saw nothing in the darkness save for what your wild imagination conjured."

  "I admit I do have a wild imagination. But I was in complete control of my senses when the moonlight beamed onto your face, and I saw what I saw. So show me now. I want to see your teeth."

  He smiled, a tight smile that leaned more toward the vile and malevolent than anything mirthful. Yet he exposed no fangs. That she could see.

  Jane stepped forward, eyeing his mouth curiously.

  Of a sudden, he lunged for her, spinning her about and putting her shoulders up against the wall. She almost cried out, but at sight of the sharp fangs amidst his upper teeth, she couldn't find words. Instead, dread hazed her thoughts. She blinked.

  He shook her by the shoulders. "Don't faint now, Jane. You wanted this. Look at them. Look at me. If you dare."

  If she dared? She most certainly did dare!

  Shaking her head obliterated the oncoming faint. Jane boldly looked at the man's face, lit from below by the candle.

  The fangs were twice as long as his regular teeth. And…they were exquisite. Dare she think them pretty?

  "May I touch them?"

  He slapped one hand to the wall above her head and leaned in even closer. The scent of him alchemized moonlight with cool air and salty waters. "Go ahead."

  Inhaling for courage, she glided a finger down one brilliant white fang. She dared to touch the tip— "Oh!

  He caught her hand before she could bring her finger to her mouth. His fang had pricked her. The man licked the bead of blood then took her finger slowly into his mouth.

  Jane sighed. The silky nightgown teased her nipples rigid. But she would not succumb to his seduction…yet. She pulled her finger from his mouth and tucked her hand behind her back.

  "I need to know, Marcello. Are you…?"

  "Vampire," he answered.

  Mercy. And yet… "D-do you want to bite me?" she wondered.

  He smirked. And as she watched, his fangs ascended to align with his other teeth. "Not yet," he said. "But there is something else I'd like to do to you."

  "W-what is that?"

  Again he lunged, slipping a hand up and along her back and drawing her torso flush against his. And in his deepest, most sultry voice, he said, "I want to fuck you, Jane."

  Chapter 7

  He was done being the gentleman. Standing aside while he gave the woman all the pleasure. Now, Marcello would answer the intense pull to please himself as he also brought Jane to climax. She had only momentarily looked frightened, as he'd allowed his teeth to lower to give her a good look at them. And the V-word had been uttered.

  But he didn't want to have that 'talk' right now. He needed sexual stimulation, not blood.

  She wore but a thin gown beneath a damask wrap, and the silky fabric skimmed his bare abdomen and chest, stirring his nipples to tightness. He pushed down the shoulders of her robe, revealing the swells of her breasts. Her cheeks blushed, as did her bosom.


  "Jane, you can play up the dramatics all you like, but I know you want this." He shoved the wrap away from her body, and it fell around their feet. "Next comes the chemise, yes?"

  She nodded. Eagerly. So he tugged the blue ribbon bow placed between her breasts and pulled it free, loosening the neckline and allowing it to slip off her shoulders. Her pale skin, warmed to a heady blush, did not preach patience. Hands cupping up under her breasts, he dove in to kiss them. Why women bound their breasts so tightly with corsets all the day baffled him. These lovely, small yet full globes were treats to be admired. And supped at.

  With his teeth, he pulled the shift lower and up popped her tight, ruby nipples. He growled at the sight of them, then met her gaze in the flickering candlelight. She looked worried.

  "No biting tonight," he said. "You needn't worry."

  Her lips parted, and she nodded, silently granting him her trust.

  Squeezing one breast in his hand, he lowered kisses to the other and then lashed his tongue firmly across her rigid peak. Jane's cry of pleasure penetrated his skin and rushed through him in a heated flood. His cock grew blissfully hard. He leaned up against her, pinning her to the wall, and nuzzled his erection against her thigh.

  "Oh!"

  His chuckle sounded almost sinister as he pushed down the chemise even farther and then lifted her against the wall, putting her breasts right…there, at his tongue's mercy. Wrapping her legs about his hips, she rocked her loins forward, grinding against his erection.

  "That's right, Jane. Show me how much you enjoy this."

  "I like it too much," she said on a breathy gasp. "You make me so…"

  He lifted his tongue from her nipple and met her gaze. "So, what?"

  "I cannot say."

  "You can't say, or are you too much of a prude to say? Do I make you wet, Jane? Tell me. Tell me how I make you feel. Inside."

  "Oh, I…oh…"

  He lingered above her nipple but didn't touch it again. Not until she told him exactly what she wanted.

  "Oh, Marcello, yes, you make me…burn. And…and want. I want so much from you! And yes, wet. I'm slick between my thighs. And it's because of you."

  "Is that so?" Propping her easily on one hip, he slid his hand down between her thigh and his and tugged the chemise farther to expose her golden nest of curls. His vampiric senses detected the sweet, saltiness of her sex. And a slick of his finger found she was indeed wet and wanting.

  He kissed her jaw and up to her ear where he whispered, "You are ready for me, Jane."

  "I-I am."

  He sensed that she was reluctant tonight. Secrets had been revealed. She was no longer standing in a man's arms, but that of a vampire. So he accepted her skittishness. But that would not dampen his fervent need to have his wicked way with her.

  Unbuttoning his trousers, he shoved them down. His cock sprang free and hit hard against Jane's mons, enough that she gasped.

  "Oh, I think that might be very big," she suddenly said as he pressed his length against her.

  "Are you worried I won't fit?"

  "I certainly hope that you do. Oh, my mercy! Did I just say that?"

  Amused that she was at once aroused and shy, Marcello guided his thick hardness toward her pussy. Gripping his shaft, he felt the sensitive foreskin taut beneath the mighty crown, and he teased the head of it over her slickness. By the gods, it felt as though he skated across molten fire, but they were the sweetest flames, and he would be content to let them burn and mark him forevermore.

  Nudging into her, he slowly worked his length into the fire. Indeed, it was a tight fit. Jaws clenched and eyes closed, he lingered in the exquisite hug that threatened to make him come before he had fully sheathed himself.

  A deep, bellowing groan spilled from his mouth as he worked in slowly, deeper. Jane's fingers clutched at his biceps, and he thought to ask, "I'm not hurting you?"

  "No," she whispered out. "So…oh… Yes… Deeper. Please, Marcello. Now!"

  A little bit of the whore reared up in his sweet Jane, and, granted permission, Marcello hilted himself with a guttural moan. He thrust slowly at first and then faster, losing himself in the chase to the finish. His muscles tightened, and his body began to tremble. He would come quickly—

  He would not deny himself tonight.

  "Yes," Jane gasped near his ear. "I've never… Oh, mercy, I shall die a happy woman."

  No one was dying tonight. But someone was coming. Right now.

  His body shuddering, Marcello met gazes with Jane. He bit his lower lip as his thrusts brought up spurts of his seed. And she bracketed his face with her hands, holding his gaze to hers. It was a maddening yet soul-spearing moment. And he growled again as he spent himself inside her, jamming his hips tight to hers as he rode the wicked high.

  With a kiss to her eyelid and a nuzzle of his nose into her flowery hair, he then tugged out from the hugging heat, knowing it was too late to worry about using a French letter, and not caring.

  His manhood slid along Jane's thigh, and he nuzzled his face against her neck. "So perfect inside you," he said. "For the first time."

  * * *

  Never before had Jane felt so…much when having intercourse. And much being the word for Marcello's member. It was thick and long and had filled her completely. She'd never noticed when her husband had been inside her, quickly rutting away with his eyes squeezed tightly shut. She'd only been glad when he finished and then rolled over and fell into a snore within minutes.

  Which is why she'd been compelled to grab Marcello by the face and look into his eyes when she had known he was climaxing. The intimacy of that moment had been incomparable. They had connected. Had been one in that instant. Mercy.

  She could never return to her husband now. Not that she'd intended to do so, but—just no. Marcello had ruined her for other men. In the best way possible.

  Now, he carried her to the bed and tore away her gown, which had tangled about her legs. He set her down then stood beside the bed, easing his fingers around the base of his proud erection. It was almost an involuntary move as he stood there looking over her. But it drew her eyes to that amazing piece of anatomy.

  "It's hard again so quickly?"

  "With you as my wicked muse? I am always hard."

  "May I…hold you?" She pointed to his member. "I've never actually gotten the chance to look closely at one before."

  "I can believe that. Your husband keep all the candles snuffed and then a quick in and out?"

  Jane's shoulder dropped. "I don’t wish to talk about him, if you please?"

  He touched the scar above her breast and leaned down to kiss it. "It's what you please, Jane. And I promise I won't mention him again." He slid onto the bed and sat up against the stacks of pillows. His arousal bobbed with the motion. "Look all you desire. Touch it. Kiss it. Do whatever you’d like with it."

  Feeling a sudden giddy opportunity to explore, Jane rubbed her palms together, then bent to study the bobbling instrument that still made her throb between the thighs in the most wonderful way. It was deeply colored, and the head of him was thick as a plum and nearly violet in color. It looked angry, actually. So she touched the shaft tentatively.

  Marcello hissed.

  She flinched away. "Does that hurt?"

  He shook his head. "Feels great. But don't be shy. It won't bite."

  Her mouth dropped open as she met his gaze. He then realized what he'd said and shrugged. "Very well, I might bite. But it won't."

  She wanted to learn all about his vampire condition, but he'd deftly avoided her earlier question by pinning her to the wall and having his way with her. And now with such a fascinating treat displayed before her, Jane felt compelled to do as she wished with him.

  Talking could wait for later.

  Wrapping her fingers around his shaft, she could not touch her fingertips together. It was as though she held a piece of suede-covered metal that had sat near the fire overlong. He smelled of musk and salt. And when she moved her h
and down and up, it rubbed the skin over thick, pulsing veins. An exquisite object. Difficult not to marvel over it. And the head glistened with what she suspected was the ejaculate that had come out when he had climaxed by the wall.

  Gliding the fingers of her other hand through his nest of black curls that hugged the magnificent shaft, she leaned closer and kissed the head of him. It was not repulsive as she’d imagined; she rather wanted to taste more of him.

  "May I…?" She glanced up at him.

  "Oh, you may." He swung his arms up and clasped his hands behind his head, giving her free rein. "Just don't bite."

  "I would never," she said with affront. And yet…the night had only just begun.

  Kissing him up and down his length, she delighted in pressing it against her cheek and drawing the heady warmth into her skin. And then she dared to lash her tongue along the length of him, exploring a pulsing vein along the hot, intense shaft before drawing her mouth up to tease the rim of its mighty crown.

  Marcello's moan vibrated in her chest. She had done something to make him happy. So she did it again, laving along his length as if a starving woman. And then she squeezed her hand around the heavy sac that hugged up against his root.

  "Gentle with that," he murmured. "The jewels are very sensitive."

  She let up on her firm clasp and then clutched the thick rod with her other hand as she performed a gentle up and down twist.

  "Oh, yes." Marcello raked his fingers through her hair. His fingertips gently dug into her scalp as her tongue dashed the crown of his erection. "You learn quickly, lover."

  "You like this?"

  "Every touch, every taste. Every part of being with you, Jane. Oh…Jane!"

  And like that, his hips bucked and he spilled hot, creamy seed over her hands.

  Now that was what she called an adventure.

  Chapter 8

  After he'd come down from the climax, Marcello retrieved a wash linen for Jane, and as he wiped her hands, he kissed each finger and the knuckles. The delicate appendages were capable of such masterful control over him. Fancy that.