Samson's Lovely Mortal

by Tina Folsom

  “May I have another one?” Her voice was smooth, silky, temping. Did she know this was foreplay?

  He placed a canapé into her mouth and provocatively let his finger linger at her lips until she responded to him by closing them over the tip of his finger. In slow motion he withdrew his finger and let it slide over her closed lips.

  He could already feel his body respond to her. Ten more seconds, and she would give him another raging erection.

  “Do you like my choice of food?” It wasn’t his choice of food he wanted to discuss. “I could get you anything else you wanted.” The question of what else was implied. Preferably a portion of his body. Preferably the one which was currently begging for more space in his pants.

  “No, this is quite perfect.” Her eyes roamed over his body, sending a tingle of anticipation into his loins.

  “More?” How many hours would she be able to keep up with him before she’d collapse in his arms, naked, hot, and exhausted?

  “I’m quite hungry today.” She was playing his game, and he liked it. There was nothing shy about her. She showed him what she wanted and wasn’t embarrassed about it. A sign of a strong woman. He couldn’t wait to find out what she would be like in bed—if he ever made it to a bed with her and didn’t fall over her someplace else. Which was a definite possibility.

  “I guess I’ll have to keep feeding you. I don’t want anybody to start a rumor that I don’t feed my guests. Nobody is going to leave my company hungry. For anything.”

  She responded by licking her lower lip, and it looked like she didn’t even know she was doing it. His gaze was involuntarily pulled to her breasts as soon as his peripheral vision noticed a change in them: her nipples had hardened and were pressing through the fabric of her top. His cock responded in kind and tilted in her direction.

  When he gave her the next canapé she held onto his hand, and as soon as she’d swallowed the food, her lips opened again. Slowly and deliberately she pulled one of his fingers into her mouth and licked it clean. He drew in his breath. She sucked on him gently, and her eyes locked with his.

  She did the same with the next finger. Samson felt his cock strain toward her, asking to be next in line to feel those luscious lips. When she released him, he traced her lips with his moist finger.

  “Delicious.” Delilah shifted, changing the way she crossed her legs, drawing his eyes to her smooth calves. He admired the gentle curves of her flawless flesh.

  He wanted nothing more than to kiss her, but he had to wait. For now he wanted to bring her body temperature to boiling point and enjoy the view of her hardened nipples. Unfortunately, it was his own body temperature which was rising. Maybe he should ask Carl to turn on the air conditioning.

  The ride to the theater was too short, especially since he was having so much fun. How he would make it through the two-hour performance he had no idea. He was in the right mood to give the tickets to the next passerby and take her back to his house immediately. But he was worried that his uncontrolled desire for her would scare her and make her retreat. He couldn’t risk it.

  “Sir, we’re here.” He heard Carl’s voice as the car came to a stop.

  Delilah watched Samson intently as he helped her out of the car like the perfect gentleman, almost as if the few minutes of erotic play hadn’t happened. He was deadly sexy, and the touch of his fingers on her lips had aroused her more than she would want anybody to know. If a simple touch did that to her, she’d be heading for the abyss shortly.

  She could barely believe how bold she’d been in the car. She wasn’t normally the type to go after a man, but all her inhibitions had gone out the window as soon as he’d fed her the first piece of sushi. Potentially the whole situation could have been embarrassing, especially if he had withdrawn his fingers. But he hadn’t. He’d participated.

  On the marquee of the theater she saw that the play they’d come to see was the musical Wicked. She’d heard good things about it and had wanted to see it when she was back in New York.

  As Samson led her through the crowd, his hand rested possessively on the small of her back. It was a commonly accepted gesture for a date, but after what they’d shared in the car, it felt more sexual than anything—and she didn’t want to change a thing about it.

  They were seated in the middle rows of the orchestra with a great view of the stage. His shoulder brushed against hers as they sat next to each other. He reached over to hand her the playbill. Their hands touched as she took it, and it sent a wave of fire through her core, low in her belly. She’d never met anybody who could send such sensations through her body with a simple touch. She couldn’t look at him for fear he would see in her face how aroused she was.

  “I hope you’ll enjoy this.” She felt his whisper close to her ear and wasn’t sure he meant the show. Or was she the only one with a one-track mind? She turned to him to try to read him. No, she wasn’t the only one. The wicked glint in his eyes confirmed it.

  “I think I will.”

  His mouth was only a couple of inches from hers. How easy it would be to kiss him.

  “I’ll make sure of that.” She would hold him to his promise.

  The house lights dimmed, and slowly the chatter of the audience ceased. Everything went quiet in anticipation. She could almost feel the electricity prickle between them, when she suddenly felt his hand on hers. The sexiest man she’d ever met was holding hands with her in the dark of a theater. The touch conjured up images of hot, steamy sex, and she felt her body temperature spike as a result.

  Samson kept holding her hand during the entire first act and only released it when there was occasion to clap. She noticed him looking at her from the side several times, but she didn’t return his gaze. She was too worried her good manners would desert her like the rats leaving a sinking ship, and she’d jump his bones right there in the theater. She didn’t need or want an audience for what she wanted to do with him.

  When the lights came up for intermission, he let go of her hand.

  “It’s gotten warm in here.” She fanned her face with her hands.

  “Downright hot. Would you like a drink?”

  What she needed was to splash some water onto her face before she spontaneously combusted. Or maybe a cold shower to douse the flames she felt shooting through her belly.

  “That’d be great.”

  They got up and made their way through the crowd toward the bar. Samson was right behind her, his hand on her waist guiding her in front of him. When she reached a bottleneck at the door, she stopped abruptly, unable to get any further. His body suddenly molded itself to her back. His chest felt strong and hard, and his hand, which had rested on her waist, now slid around her stomach to hold her close to him.

  “I guess we’re stuck here for a little while.” Despite his comment, he appeared unconcerned about the hold-up. His hand lay intimately low on her stomach, his fingers leisurely tracing the seam of her panties through her skirt. Subtly she pressed her body into his and felt the rigid outline of his erection against her lower back. His hand on her stomach held her in place so she couldn’t rub herself against him any further. Had he noticed what she was doing?

  “Delilah, we’ll have to be patient.” She felt his warm breath on her neck and his lips almost brush her skin. His words told her he’d caught her naughty movements and knew exactly what she was up to. Why didn’t she feel embarrassed about her brazen behavior?

  “Patience is overrated, don’t you think?” Her retort elicited a chuckle from him, but he didn’t release her from the intimate position she was locked into. On the contrary, it felt as if he pulled her closer into him, or was his erection growing? His fingers seemed to slip slightly lower, provocatively pressing against the top of her mound.

  “I’m sorry, are you getting too hot?” His voice sounded almost innocent, when his hands were anything but.

  “I like it warm.”

  None of the other theatergoers could see his response to her admission, but Delilah could feel
it.

  Samson slowly rubbed his thumb against her sex, the thin fabric of her skirt barely providing any barrier. His nostrils picked up her scent: the sweet scent of her arousal. She surprised him with how far she let him go, and if there weren’t that many witnesses around, he’d fuck her right here, standing up.

  All it would take was to hitch up her skirt, strip her of her panties, and she’d be his for the taking. Without even touching her, he knew she was already wet—wet enough for him to slide in without resistance. What if he pulled her aside and found a dark corner somewhere in the theater? Would she be game?

  Before he could form a plan, the bottleneck dissolved, and he had to release her from his intimate embrace. They moved into the bar.

  “What would you like?” He had a hard time making his voice sound normal again. In his own ears he could only hear the lust and desire his body had difficulty getting under control.

  “Just some water, please.” As he ordered, Delilah excused herself to find the ladies room and left him at the bar. His eyes followed her. She had curves in all the right places. How could a woman like her still be unattached? Were all those human guys out there blind? Just as well; at least he wouldn’t have to fight off the competition. She would be all his soon—very soon.

  “Wishful thinking.” The voice behind him was one he hadn’t wanted to hear ever again. Should he ignore her and leave?

  “I said—” she repeated.

  Samson spun around. “I heard you the first time, Ilona.” His voice had the razor-sharp edge to it which he always employed when dealing with enemies. He glanced at the tall beauty in front of him. She was dressed to the nines, her long red hair artfully draped over her naked shoulders. The tight corset of her dress accentuated her breasts, and the dark green of her gown complemented the color of her hair and skin. She was stunning, but he wasn’t fooled, not anymore.

  “A little tense, are we?”

  “None of your concern. Shouldn’t you be heading for a costume party somewhere in Hell?” Samson took the bottle of water the bartender handed him and paid.

  “Definitely tense. So it’s true then?”

  He gave her a sharp look, unwilling to even guess where she was headed with her insinuation.

  “Go play your games with somebody else. You should have realized by now that I don’t care for your company.”

  “You once did. In fact, you craved it. Don’t you remember?”

  Oh, he remembered. “I don’t recall much about that time, given that I was temporarily insane back then. So why don’t you move along. There must be plenty of rich guys in town you haven’t bedded yet. Or have you slept your way through them already?”

  “At least they can get it up.” Her light tone belied the venom in her words. She sipped nonchalantly on her glass of wine.

  Samson hissed under his breath. How he would have liked to snap her little neck. He could almost hear the sound it would make when breaking.

  “You should be careful about the lies you’re spreading,” he warned her in a low tone. “Lies can kill people. Even people like you.”

  “They’re not called lies if they’re true. So, it looks like I broke you.”

  Damn Holly! She really spread gossip faster than anybody he knew.

  “Don’t flatter yourself. It doesn’t become you.” He never wanted to feel Ilona’s touch again. The very thought disgusted him. How he could have ever enjoyed her evil hands on him, was a mystery.

  “If you come back to me I can fix you,” she hummed, obviously convinced of her seductive powers.

  “You can’t fix what’s not broken.” True. He had been broken only a day ago, but now, thanks to Delilah, everything was working just fine.

  “Liar.”

  “I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last woman on earth. So, leave me alone.”

  Samson turned, and she put a hand on his arm. He whipped back around and shot her a venomous look, jerking his arm away from her.

  “Darling, sorry to keep you so long,” Delilah’s voice suddenly chirped next to him. He felt her warm hand on his arm, instantly relaxing his taut muscles. Gratefully, he turned to her.

  “Here’s your water, sweetness.” In the corner of his eye he could see Ilona’s surprise. She stood there frozen as she watched them, while he placed his hand on Delilah’s back to pull her away.

  “Thank you.” He kept his voice low as they walked through the bar area.

  “It looked like you wanted to get away from her.” There was an unspoken question in her voice.

  “I did.”

  “Somebody you know?”

  Should he tell her? It wouldn’t do any harm. “Ex-girlfriend.”

  “Oh. She’s beautiful.” Delilah sounded deflated.

  “Only on the outside.” Samson knew what she felt. Women, whether humans or vampires, were predictable in one way: they always compared themselves to other women. He had to stop her from worrying about it. He pulled her into a corner and looked deep into her eyes.

  “You are more beautiful than any woman I’ve ever met. And if there weren’t so many people here, I’d show you just how desirable I think you are.”

  His fingers stroked her cheek softly. He wanted to kiss her, but not here, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop once he started. Instead he pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingertips. Her skin was warm and sweet. He nipped at her index finger and pulled it between his lips, closing around it and letting his tongue play with it.

  “Samson …” Her voice was but a whisper.

  He watched her as she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, until he let go of her finger. He was more than satisfied with the effect he had on her. She responded to each of his seductive movements, and he wasn’t even using vampire mind control. That’s right, he wasn’t! He hadn’t even noticed. Every interaction with her had been completely and utterly devoid of any mind control on his part.

  Vampires used mind control to place thoughts in their intended victims’ minds to allow them to approach them and feed from them, and then later, to wipe their memories clear so they wouldn’t have any recollection of the events.

  Since Samson didn’t feed off humans unless it was an emergency, he rarely had the need to use mind control. He drank blood acquired through a blood bank and was content with it. It wasn’t quite the same as the warm, pulsating blood coming straight from a human’s veins, but it was sufficient to satisfy his hunger and nourish his body.

  Of course, when he’d been a new vampire, and there had been no such thing as a blood bank, he had taken blood directly from humans. Sometimes he’d taken too much and had accidentally killed humans. Over the years he’d learned to control himself better. When blood had become more readily available on the commercial market, he’d switched to it.

  He hadn’t used mind control in a while, and it hadn’t even occurred to him to use it on Delilah, though he wanted to make absolutely sure to have sex with her tonight. Using mind control would have ensured him that.

  But her response to his touch had given him absolute certainty of the fact that he didn’t need to use his vampire skills on her.

  “We should go back to our seats. We don’t want to miss the second act.”

  “No, we wouldn’t want to miss anything.” The husky tone in her voice told him she wasn’t talking about the play. Samson felt his pants tighten instantly. This was not the time to have another erection, but alas, he had no control over it. Better to hide in the dark of the theater.

  He looked at her from the side as they quietly watched the second act. He wanted her so much, it was painful to wait. In the dark, he reached for her hand and found her willingly accepting his touch. He needed more. It was stupid to feel like a schoolboy, fumbling in the dark, but he couldn’t help himself. Hesitantly he guided her hand to his thigh where he left it. Would she pull it back?

  He couldn’t follow the action on the stage when there was a much more exciting mystery unraveling right next to him. As he let
go of her hand, his body was tense. It was the moment where she was free to pull her hand away, or to leave it where it was, burning through the fabric of his pants, sending shockwaves of heat through his body.

  Delilah did neither—her hand didn’t pull away, but it didn’t stay where he’d placed it either. Instead, her hand gently moved along his thigh, up and down, stroking him, moving higher up now. Damn, she was killing him! His hard-on was straining against his pants, and he had no way of shifting in the tight space to make himself more comfortable.

  Her warm hand moved up to the apex of his thighs. He was almost ready to come right there and then—when would this damn play be over? Samson held his breath until he noticed her look at him. She chuckled silently. What was so funny?

  Delilah leaned into him, and he felt her mouth close to his ear.

  “You shouldn’t play with fire if you can’t take the heat.”

  Bloody hell, she was playing him like a fiddle, turning him into putty in her hands. And she knew it all too well. He’d always thought of himself as being the predator, but she’d turned the game around, switching into his customary role. He couldn’t wait to turn the tables on her later.

  “Payback’s a bitch.” And he would thoroughly enjoy it.

  “Shh!” a voice from behind reprimanded him.

  Samson took hold of her hand again, stopping her from caressing him any further, but still keeping it on his thigh. He could handle that—just about. He hadn’t had this much fun with a woman since he’d been a teenager and human. As a vampire, everything to do with sex had been hot and heavy without real fun and games. Well, this was hot and heavy too, but at the same time he could sense the humor in it all. He wondered whether she could awaken his lighter side and make him feel carefree and relaxed again.