The Last Vampire- Complete series Box Set

by R. A. Steffan

  Eventually, the feeling of drowning in him grew too intense, forcing me to wrench my lips free of his so I could gasp in air. “This,” I panted. “I want this. I want you to make me lose control.”

  If I could help him turn everything off for a while, maybe he could do the same for me. Now that I was sober, real life threatened to come crashing down on me again—all the fears, all the worries, all the problems and mysteries I couldn’t do anything about until daylight returned. Rans’ remark about the neighbors not being able to hear me scream replayed in my mind, making me shiver with anticipation regarding the kinds of things he might do to me if given free rein.

  He held himself above me on hard-muscled arms. Beyond the window, clouds sculled across the moon, dimming its light and blurring the details of his features into grayness broken only by the shining blue of his eyes.

  “Hmm,” he mused. “Let me see, now. A freshly unearthed voyeurism kink and a desire to lose control. You know, I don’t care that you were draining their life force. Your exes were barmy not to stick around longer, luv.”

  I wrinkled my nose at him, not sure if he could see the expression in the deeper darkness that had overtaken the room. The huff of low laughter seemed to indicate that he could.

  “Don’t move a muscle,” he warned. “I just need to grab something. Back in a tick.”

  With that, he kissed me quickly on the lips and rolled off the bed. I lay still, heart pounding with anticipation. As promised, he took only a moment.

  “What is it?” I asked breathlessly, unable to make out detail now that the moon was hidden behind clouds.

  The lamp switch clicked, casting a circle of warm light outward from the bedside table. It threw the planes of Rans’ body into gold-limned dips and shadows, distracting me for a moment from the object dangling from his hand—a braided leather belt, the free end threaded through the buckle to form a small loop at the bottom.

  “Give me your wrists, Zorah.”

  I didn’t even think before I extended my wrists, feeling blood thrumming through every vein as my heart galloped wildly. Rans gathered my hands together, pressing his lips to the knuckles of first one, and then the other. He slipped the loop over them and tugged it closed, pressing my palms together as if in prayer. Leaning forward, he drew my arms over my head and tied the loose tail of the belt around one of the spindles in the headboard.

  When he was done, he straightened and looked down at me with a serious expression. “The buckle isn’t clasped,” he said. “You can pull and struggle against it as much as you like, and it should hold, but if you really want to get loose, all you need to do is press your wrists apart to open up the loop so you can slide your hands out. Try it.”

  I tugged against the belt, first lightly, then harder until I could feel the soft leather biting into my wrists. Then I relaxed and wriggled my hands back and forth, feeling the loop widen as the buckle slid along the leather. I nodded, confident that I could easily slip my hands free if I needed to.

  “And if you don’t like something?” he asked, still regarding me seriously.

  “I’ll tell you to stop,” I said in a breathy voice.

  He smiled, letting his gaze slide down the length of my body like a caress. My nipples hardened, the points visible through the silky black material of my nightgown.

  “So lovely, stretched out and on display for me like this,” he murmured, brushing a fingertip over the nearest breast—the barest suggestion of a touch.

  An electric tingle zapped from my nipple straight to my clit, and I caught my breath as a pulse of wetness soaked my inner thighs. Rans’ nostrils flared, and a flush of heat rose from my neck to my cheeks—hopefully hidden by my dusky complexion.

  Or maybe not.

  “You’re blushing,” he teased. “And you’re wet for me after a single touch? Succubi everywhere would be proud of you.”

  “Fucker,” I said. I made a show of tugging and squirming against the belt, in hopes that it would hide the way I was rubbing my thighs together in an attempt to ease the pressure between them.

  “Still blushing,” he said, amused. “How far down does that flush go, I wonder? A pity all of that black silk is in my way—makes it hard to tell.” A strong, callused hand slid over the silky material from breast to hip, igniting every nerve along the way.

  I jerked against my bonds again for good measure. “Too bad you didn’t think of that earlier,” I taunted, already enjoying this new game. “It’s going to be impossible to get it off me now, with my wrists tied like this.”

  Shit. Where had this kind of sex been all my life? My skin felt too tight, my body hot and needy and ready to be filled—all this from only a few minutes of teasing and play-acting.

  The smile on Rans’ face grew predatory, something about it sending a new pulse of urgency to my throbbing clit.

  “Oh,” he said, drawing out the word, “I don’t need to untie you to get this flimsy scrap of cloth out of my way, little vixen.”

  “No?” I asked, breathless.

  “No,” he confirmed. His hands grasped either side of the plunging v-neck that displayed my cleavage, and the silky fabric ripped to my navel. My breasts spilled out, bare to his burning gaze. “Much better,” he murmured.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” I cursed, my body on fire with the need to be touched. Taken. Used.

  “Blasphemy, Zorah?” Rans accused, mock-appalled. “I’m shocked.”

  “You’re the one who told me I was part demon,” I gasped. “You’ve got no one to blame but yourself. Now, touch me, goddamn it!” I writhed against the restraint for good measure.

  He laughed, arranging his body in an elegant sprawl near the edge of the bed—giving me a clear view of his erect cock, but too far away for me to touch him, bound as I was. “No,” he said, “I don’t believe I will just yet.”

  I made a sound of frustration and struggled harder as he leaned casually on an elbow, only to freeze in place when he started stroking himself again, my eyes zeroing in on that slow slide of hand over dick. I could feel it... feel the steady rise of his lust flowing between us. I wanted that cock. I ached for it. Hell, I was practically salivating for it.

  “Mmm,” he hummed. “Edging. Never really saw the point until now. Nice to know you can still learn something new after seven hundred years.”

  I had no fucking clue what he was rambling on about, and I didn’t really care. His orgasm was approaching, I could feel it. So close, so close, and I’d be able to feel that delectable flood of pleasure washing over me... soaking in to fill up the empty places inside me. Any second now...

  He stopped, his hand stilling on his twitching cock, squeezing the base as a bead of pre-come dripped from the tip. All of that lovely, pent-up energy wavered on the brink... and stayed pent up. I made a pitiful noise, straining toward him but unable to reach.

  I could feel the promise of his release sliding away as he continued to clamp his fingers around the base of his erection, his imminent orgasm subsiding. I lay there, panting and shivery, until he started jacking off again, smearing the pre-come over the head of his dick to use as lube. I could feel that it was even better for him that way, and I held my breath as he brought himself back to the edge—

  —only to stop again.

  Over and over he teased me with the promise of his release, only to pull it away at the last instant. By the fourth or fifth time, I was struggling in earnest, cursing him both silently and aloud. As if he’d sensed that I was about five seconds away from getting my wrists free and jumping him, he released his cock with a low growl.

  “Christ. There’s only so much of that I can take while I’m watching you writhe around with your wrists tied to the headboard,” he said.

  “Good,” I snarled, giving my wrists another jerk for good measure. “Now get over here and give me what I want, or I’ll—“

  Whatever threat I might’ve come up with, it was cut off in a gasp of ecstasy when he ripped my nightgown the rest of the way open a
nd palmed my sex roughly. Shameless and desperate, I ground my clit against the heel of his hand. I was so wet it should have been embarrassing, but concerns like that had fled long ago before my overwhelming need for what Rans was offering.

  Instead of teasing, he was trying to drown me in pleasure now, or so it seemed. Long fingers delved inside me—stretching and probing—looking for the place along the front wall of my passage that made me arch wildly off the bed. His thumb brushed my clit, and just like that, I was coming with the promised scream—a mindless, wild thing bucking beneath him.

  “Bloody fucking hell, luv,” he cursed, poised over me as his magic fingers drew out my release and urged me toward a second one without so much as a pause for me to get my breath back. “I’ll give you what you need, don’t worry. But first, you’ll give me more of this.”

  I whimpered, tugging fitfully at the belt even though I was exactly where I wanted to be. The feeling of being trapped here, subjected to pleasure at Rans’ whim was addicting, and we hadn’t even gotten to the best part yet. I couldn’t have remembered my own name at that point, much less rattled off a list of the things I was supposed to be worrying about. I was completely in the moment, inhabiting the present with no thought for anything except my body’s shuddering response to Rans’ touch.

  “Don’t stop,” I begged, as those deft fingers wrung more and more pleasure from me until I thought I’d go mad. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop...”

  Lips brushed my ear. “Stop? I could keep you here until you pass out from what I’m doing to you, Zorah. And when you came around, you’d find yourself still tied to the bed, still with my fingers inside you, driving you mad. Maybe I’d wake you up by sucking on your clit at the same time.”

  I moaned, trembled, and came even harder, my voice rising to a high-pitched keen. Rans chuckled.

  “Like that idea, do you?” he asked, and nipped my earlobe. Lips brushed down the length of my throat and lower. He sucked on first one nipple, and then the other, drawing on the pebbled points before letting them pop free. “Well, then—far be it from me to disappoint...”

  When his mouth reached my clit and latched onto it, my heels scrabbled at the bedclothes—trying to get closer? Trying to get away? I wasn’t sure. When the next orgasm rolled over me, I went limp, the fight going out of me all at once. The room spun. Nothing existed except Rans’ mouth on me; his fingers inside me.

  “There’s my sweet little vixen,” he murmured against my folds, lapping gently at my oversensitive clit while his fingers continued to stroke over the place inside me that sent starbursts erupting behind my closed eyelids. “Now you can have what you want from me.”

  With a final kiss to my folds, he slipped his fingers free of my clutching passage and prowled up the length of my body until his hips were cradled between my legs. His hard cock found my opening and slid inside with a single, unforgiving thrust.

  And... oh, god—this.

  This was bliss. I needed nothing more from life at this moment than the feeling of our flesh joining—of his animus flowing into me. He reached above my head one-handed and tugged at the belt until it fell away from my wrists, freeing my arms to circle his back and hold tight. I had become a peaceful, empty vessel, free of all cares and worries, existing only to be filled up with this wonderful feeling.

  In turn, I would empty Rans of his troubles as well, leaving us free to just be... for a little while, at least, until we both had to go back out into a world that didn’t want either of our kinds to exist.

  We rocked together for a very long time, pleasure cresting and waning like a slow tide. Until finally, my teeth brushed Rans’ collarbone in a fleeting nip, and he groaned low, spilling into me. Giving me everything he had to give.

  I held him close as he filled me up, trading his vital energy for a brief stretch of serenity—giving me what I needed to survive, in exchange for the lesser gift I could give him in return. After his shudders finally stilled, he rolled us over until I was draped over his body like a blanket. Together, we drifted into dreamless sleep.

  FOUR

  FOR SOME REASON, it still surprised me to wake up and find that I wasn’t alone. That Rans hadn’t left as soon as I’d fallen asleep. This probably said something deep and psychologically disturbing about the way my brain worked.

  Self-esteem, said the little voice in my head. Try getting some, one of these days.

  After that initial jolt of surprise passed, I realized a couple of things.

  One—I felt safe and protected, tangled up with Rans in a stranger’s stolen bed. It was a feeling that sat oddly in my chest after a couple of decades spent with the knowledge that in the end, very few people in my life really cared all that much what happened to me.

  Two—my body felt fucking fantabulous. Well, okay. It felt fucking fantabulous except for a distinct soreness between my thighs that I couldn’t really bring myself to mind. Other than that, though, I was rested and pain-free.

  And in terrible need of a shower. Unfortunately, while drifting off in a lover’s arms after a night of wild sex might be great for the psyche, it ignored several practical problems related to hygiene.

  Oh, well.

  I lazed for a few more minutes anyway. At some point as I’d slept, my lower body had slid off Rans, though one of my legs was still draped between his. I was still using his chest for a pillow, though. With his upper body bare, it was harder to tell if I’d drooled on him this time, so I decided to pretend that I hadn’t.

  He seemed pretty far out of it. His stillness was kind of disconcerting until I realized that I was expecting his chest to rise and fall beneath me. Which, of course, it wasn’t doing because he was a vampire, and didn’t need to breathe.

  No breathing, no heartbeat. And yet, I knew exactly how much life resided inside that still form. I’d felt it. Several times now, in fact.

  True, it was borrowed life—taken from those whose blood he drank. And I probably should have pressed the issue of him drinking from me harder last night. It was pretty obvious that without the turbo boost from my succubus blood to offset it, sex with me had drained him pretty badly.

  Or maybe that was what he’d wanted? After all, here he was—completely relaxed and seemingly oblivious to the world, long hours after we’d finished. I wasn’t about to begrudge him that.

  It was still early, judging by the golden light slanting through the window. Now that I was conscious, though, reality was starting to clamor for my attention again. I was wide awake now, practically brimming with the energy I’d stolen from the man beneath me. With slow movements, I extricated my body from his, pausing to press a kiss to his lips when he stirred.

  “Shh,” I whispered. “I’m just going for a shower. It’s still early.”

  He settled back, and I slid off the bed. The spaghetti straps of my ripped nightgown were still looped around my shoulders, leaving the ruined garment hanging down my back like some sort of bizarre cape.

  Super Slut, I thought, a flush of giddy heat rising at the memory. But, shit, I was apparently the granddaughter of a sex demon and I’d somehow bagged a seven-hundred-year-old vampire as a fuck buddy.

  I was damn well going to own it.

  I let the silky fabric slide down my arms and grabbed it in one hand. Totally ruined, as I’d suspected... and still worth every penny. I debated the merits of dragging the ripped nightgown around in my single piece of luggage, versus throwing it away in a stranger’s house for them to find and wonder about later.

  I shoved it in the suitcase. Apparently Super Slut still had a few issues to work through before flying her freak flag for the entire world to see.

  To make up for it, I grabbed Rans’ discarded shirt from yesterday off a chair in the corner of the room where he’d placed it. Fair was fair. He’d been responsible for the cruel and unusual treatment of my lingerie; his punishment was the loss of a shirt. I slipped it on, only bothering with a couple of buttons, and went to take that much-needed shower.

/>   I returned dressed the same way—with the addition of clean underwear—to find Rans still asleep, although he had at least shifted position. Filled with the need to do something even though it was stupidly early in the morning, I staked out an area of carpet between the bed and the door. The yoga routine relaxed my muscles and kept thoughts of my father and the danger we were facing from completely taking over my mind.

  “Wait. You’re wearing knickers?” came a rough, freshly woken voice from behind me. “Seriously? And things were shaping up so promisingly there for a few minutes.”

  I broke position, twisting out of my textbook downward dog to face him. He was leaning on an elbow, looking rumpled and thoroughly fucked. And... yeah, okay. It was a really, really good look for him.

  “Are you ogling my ass while I’m trying to do yoga?” I asked, crossing my arms and playing at being offended.

  He laughed. “Your arse is smashing, luv, but I was ogling the whole package.” His expression grew proprietary. “Along with the fact that your package is currently wrapped in one of my shirts.”

  I gave him a sugary sweet smile. “Yes, well—someone seems to have destroyed the perfectly nice nightgown that I only bought a few days ago. With Guthrie’s money, I might add.”

  “It was in my way,” Rans said carelessly. He looked me up and down, a speculative expression crossing his face. “Tell me... were you ever trained in dance?”

  My eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Not unless you count ballet when I was, like, seven,” I said. “Why?”

  “I’m trying to decide the best way to teach you to fight,” he said, as though that wasn’t a completely off-the-wall statement. “You have a dancer’s build, and good flexibility. Classical dance is one possible avenue into the martial arts.”

  Were we really having this conversation? I stopped myself before saying something dismissive... or disbelieving. It would have been hella-useful to know how to fight when Caspian’s goons had tried to drag me into his car. True, I’d already been near collapse that evening—but given what my life had become now, who was to say that I wouldn’t need better self-defense skills in the future?