by Mac Flynn
His deep, lustful voice washed over me and made me shudder. He slipped one hand over my neck and removed the black band. "He's not quite as dangerous as I."
He ducked down and pressed a kiss against my neck where lay the bite wounds. I gasped as my body filled with delicious heat. He leaned his back against the seat and slipped me onto his lap. I groaned when I felt the hardness of his need press against my hot, trembling womanhood. His hands massaged the firm muscles of my rear as he nipped and kissed at my neck.
I grasped his shoulders and leaned my head back. "Why. . .why are you doing this?" I gasped.
He paused and chuckled. "Because you are mine."
I bit my lower lip to hold back the moan of excitement created by his words. One of his hands slid up my stomach and cupped my breast. I felt myself fall into a hot blanket of pleasure that enveloped me in its lustful warmth. His hands, his kisses sent my body into a fever of excitement that I never wanted to shake.
He slipped my coat off and pulled my shirt over my head. His deft hands unclasped my bra and the thin fabric soon joined my shirt on the floor of the car. He leaned down and licked my pert nipples. His cool hands left shivers on my heavy mounds of flesh. I found myself gasping for every breath as I let him have his way with me.
"Mine," he growled.
I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from agreeing with him. His other hand unbuttoned my jeans and slipped into my underwear. I jumped when his finger brushed against my wet, sensitive nub. Hot lust raced through me. I closed my eyes and groaned. His delicate, teasing touches were too much. I couldn't fight against the agonizingly wonderful sensations they created inside me. I was his to do with what he desired, and I knew I would enjoy all of it.
My tongue flicked out and wet my dry lips. "Oh god," I whispered.
He chuckled against my breast. "Your one and only."
He placed his hands on my jeans and slid them over my wide hips. My underwear went with them, and in one deft move too fast for me to see the clothing joined the rest on the floor. His own shirt and pants disappeared, leaving us naked with me astride him. His thick, pulsing manhood teased my wet opening. My heart quickened at the thought of what pleasure we would enjoy together.
Unfortunately, Certus's voice over an intercom interrupted us. "Sir?"
Simon ground his teeth together and growled. He pressed a button on the panel beside us. "What is it?" he snapped.
"There seems to be a car following us. The plates indicate the vehicle is licensed under an alias used by associates of Mr. Eres.. Would you like me to lose them?"
Simon sighed. "It seems our drug-dealing associates have recognized the car from the warehouse. How very careless. Lead them to the house."
My eyes widened and I leaned away from him to get a good look into his face. "Lead them to the penthouse?" I yelped.
"Yes, sir," Certus replied.
"What the hell are you thinking?" I questioned him.
Simon returned his attention to me and chuckled. "We are not going to the penthouse, but to a home owned by one of my many aliases. It also happens to be near the location of one of our prospective partners." His hands grasped my hips and I was reminded of our delicate position. He looked into my eyes and our lust was rekindled. "But where were we?"
I gasped as he slid his thick manhood inside me. My wet walls stretched and embraced him in their heat. He shifted and rubbed against my tingling nub. Hot spasms of pleasure rippled through me.
I leaned my head back and bared my breasts to him. "Oh god, yes," I groaned.
"Mine," was his reply.
He thrusts were agonizingly slow. Each one teased my body with promises of a climax that would consume my body and soul. Our hips rocked together in harmony as we built up lustful momentum. Our sweat-soaked bodies glistened in the dim light. The friction between our union strained my self-control. I craved-no-I needed more. More thrusting, more pleasure, more of him.
I looped my arms around his neck and pressed our upper bodies closer together. "Please," I groaned.
He looked into my eyes and his were completely red. There wasn't even a black dot in the center. "Please what?" he growled.
My heart quickened. I gasped for breath. "Please take me. Make me yours."
His crooked smile slid onto his lips. "You're already mine."
I shuddered and moaned as he quickened his speed. His thrusts grew harder and faster. The ache inside me consumed my thoughts and swallowed them in a haze of lust and desire. We strained against each other hoping for the climax that was promised in every penetration.
He wrapped his arms around me and pushed faster. I couldn't match his delicious movements. Every thrust stroked my bundle of nerves and sent waves of pleasure through my body. I grasped his head and leaned back. My panting voice chanted our familiar song of love and lust.
"Oh god. Oh yes. Faster. Please faster," I groaned.
He grunted and pressed me against his hot body. I clung onto him and reveled in the feel of him against me and inside of me. He was my everything, and I was his lover, his possession, his plaything. My body and soul craved his attentions, and his sweet, possessive love-making.
The first tingling of my climax raced up my body. A smile slipped onto my lips as I leaned my head back. My eyes saw nothing, but my body felt everything as my orgasm overtook my senses. I cried out my joy to the world.
"Yes! Yes yes yes!"
My lover pressed once, twice, and he came inside me. He slumped back against the seat and I fell atop his sweat-soaked chest. The only sound was our heavy breathing. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my temple. I looked up and blinked at him, and he coyly smiled at me.
For a woman who insists she is not mine you certainly have some strange affections for my touch," he teased.
I glared at him and pressed my palms against his chest to push myself away. His stronger grasp kept me where I was. "Maybe if you weren't a vampire-"
"Like you," he reminded me.
My heart sank. I turned my face away from him and stared at the empty seat beside us. "Lucky me. . ."
He grasped my chin between his fingers and returned my eyes to his. A small, kind smile graced his lips, and his voice was soft. "I consider myself very fortunate to have found you."
Certus's voice over the intercom interrupted our tender moment. "Sir, we're only five minutes away from the house."
Simon sighed and dropped his hand to press the button. "Very well." He returned his eyes to me and nodded at our clothes on the floor. "That was Certus's kind way of informing us to dress."
I cringed and a faint blush warmed my cheeks. "He didn't hear anything, did he?"
Simon chuckled. "No doubt everything, but let's dress before we arrive to greet our followers."
CHAPTER 8
Fortunately, there were cleaning supplies in the limo and we cleaned ourselves before we dressed. I caught myself staring at Simon as he slipped into his pants and shirt. His eyes flickered to me, and I hurriedly looked away.
I felt a tingle in my mind and a sly grin spread across his lips. "I'm glad you like what you see."
I whipped my head in his direction and glared at him. "Don't do that!"
He set his hat on his head and tipped it towards me. "Ever your faithful servant, mademoiselle."
The car slowed to a stop and I hurriedly slipped into my last articles of clothing. Certus opened the door and stepped aside. Simon exited first and I followed for my first view of the area.
The neighborhood was much changed. Gone were the many suburban houses and in their places was a wide expanse of lawn covered in thick groves of ancient trees. Their thick limbs blocked out the sunlight and cast long shadows across the green grass.
The car was parked atop a gravel driveway, and behind us down a steep-sloped hill lay the gated entrance to the property. Rows of hedges obscured much of the view on either side of where we stood, but I could see a stone wall ten feet tall surrounded the area. Beyond the wall lay other walled prope
rties with towering homes of recent construction.
The car and we stood before a large mansion of considerable age. The high-peaked roofs hinted at a Victorian origin, but the stone walls of the lower floor of the house told an older story. The tall, narrow windows with heavy curtains glared down at us, and a half dozen chimneys cut into the bright sky. An elevated and covered porch wrapped completely around the square-shaped home. They were reached by a half dozen steps that led up from the walk and to the front door.
A cool wind blew past us and I recognized the scent of open water. I turned to Simon. "Where are we?"
"The eastern shores of the bay," he told me. He half-turned to look out over the sloped hill. "I recall a time when this house stood alone on the hill and you could see the distant town as it grew into a great city."
I followed his gaze, but my eyes fell on the front of a black car that peeked around one side of the black gates.
Simon also noticed the car and he pursed his lips. "But it seems reminisces must wait." He turned to Certus. "Park the car in the garage and scout the grounds for their point of intrusion."
Certus bowed his head and slipped into the driver's seat. He drove the car down the sloped driveway to a separate garage that lay in the opposite direction of the gates. Simon turned to me and offered me his arm.
"May I show you my home?" he requested.
I jerked my head towards the gate. "What about those guys?"
He grinned. "They will be dealt with in their own time, but there's something I wish to show you. Will you come?"
I shrugged and took his arm. "Why not?"
Simon led me down the stone path and onto the porch. He opened the door and guided me inside. A large entrance hall greeted us, and on either side lay the main rooms. A wide hall ran the depth of the house. Its walls were lined with portraits of men in period costumes. Our footsteps tapped along the wood floor as Simon steered us down the hall.
I glanced at the portraits and furrowed my brow. "Are these your ancestors?"
He chuckled. "In a way. They are me as I was in those eras."
"Seriously?" I stopped and studied a portrait of a man in a white papered collar and puffy vest with gold buttons. Thin brown leggings covered his legs and he wore billowing shorts. The man sported a short beard with a thin, waxed mustache. I turned to Simon and jerked my head towards the portrait. "That's you?"
"Can't you tell?" he teased.
I studied the man again, and this time paid special attention to the face. I started back when a familiar pair of eyes stared back at me. "This-" I pointed at the man and glanced at my companion, "-when was this taken?"
"It was painted three hundred years ago," he told me.
I looked over the hall and the other paintings. Each one represented an era of fashion, the highs and the lows. There was a simple suit from the early nineteen hundreds, a more complicated pair of tails from the early eighteen hundreds, and everything in-between.
"You-" I glanced back at Simon who likewise studied his many faces, "-you really are that old, aren't you?"
He didn't look at me, but he bowed his head. "I am."
I furrowed my brow and leaned towards him. "How did you do it?"
He turned to me and raised an eyebrow. "Do what?"
I jerked my head towards the paintings. "How'd you want to live that long?"
His smile turned somber as he looked ahead of us down the hall. "Patience."
I tilted my head to one side and blinked. "Patience? What were you waiting for?"
He chuckled and led me forward. "To show you this."
We walked down the hallway of his remembrances and to a rear door. The exit led onto the back side of the porch and house. The lawn stretched out in front of us with trees on either side of the house, though none stood in front of us. We had an unobstructed view of a white-sand beach and the vast waters of the calm bay. The tide flowed in and out and lapped gently at the pebbles of sand.
I swept my wide eyes over the view. "Wow."
Simon stepped down the stairs and looked up at me. "Then you approve?"
I snorted. "I'd be crazy not to."
He guided me down the steps and onto the green grass. "Then you don't mind waiting here for a few minutes while I take care of our guests."
I turned to him and frowned. "What do you mean 'take care' of them?"
His hand slipped from mine, and he stepped around me and onto the porch. "I'm sure I don't have to tell an intelligent woman such as yourself what must be done to the men who followed us."
I spun around and crossed my arms. "More killing? Is that all you know how to do?"
Simon opened the back door, but paused in the doorway. "I pride myself on also being a very good thief, but this is a discussion for another time. If you'll excuse me." He stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
I threw up my arms and turned towards the bay. "What the hell is with that guy? All he thinks of is-" Something in the corner of my eye caught my attention. I slowly turned my head and felt the color drain from my face. "-death?"
In the depths of the trees lay a narrow dirt path. The path created a tunnel that led to the top of a low hill, and atop the gentle slope, barely visible to my eyes, were a dozen tall stone slabs. Among them were statues that stood on square granite bases. I walked across the lawn and into the wilderness of trees and low shrubs. The little-used path led through the lowlying tree branches to the first of the many tall, thin stones. I reached the first one and jerked to a stop.
It was a tombstone. A name and dates were engraved in the hard gray stone. The markings were too worn by time for me to decipher all but the final date. 1816. I walked up to the grave marker and set my hand on the top. My eyes swept over the area and they widened.
Before me stretched an ancient graveyard. The grave stones were haphazardly lined up in crooked rows. Here and there were tall granite statues that marked a person of wealth and importance. Simpler plaques lay hidden beneath centuries of dirt and grass. Here and there arose an ancient oak tree that covered the graves beneath its massive canopy. The resting place was surrounded on two sides by a gate of iron bars that leaned at odd angles and was partially swallowed by un-mowed grass. In front of me and to my right were the sides without a fence. The beach lay fifty yards off, but the graveyard was hidden from the open water by the wild trees and a line of shrubs that took the place of the missing fence line.
On the opposite side of the wilderness some hundred yards from where I stood rose a ten-foot tall stone wall. The graveyard lay within the boundaries of Simon's property.
"That's not the right way to cast a spell."
I started and whipped my head to the left. In the depths among the tombstones sat a woman on her knees. She was seated in front of a large marble statue of a weeping angel. Above the angel rose one of the ancient oaks.
I ducked down and crept closer until I was within twenty feet of where she sat. A half-toppled headstone shielded me from her view as I studied her.
The woman was about thirty-five with long brown hair and pale skin. A black cloak was thrown over her shoulders, but her sneakers peeked out from beneath the cloth. Her hands were clasped together and her eyes were closed. She sat on a towel and before her was a shallow wide-mouthed bowl filled with plants.
I looked around for the source of the voice. It had been a man who spoke. I saw no one but the woman.
The woman opened her brown eyes and looked up at the face of the statue. "By the powers granted to me by Hecuba, I beseech thee to call upon a spirit to assist me in this task."
"Still not the right way," the male voice insisted. I whipped my head to and fro, but still couldn't find the source of the voice.
The woman stared ahead of her and frowned. "What do you know?"
"I know that you forgot to light the plants," he pointed out.
She picked up a long match and struck it against the thick square base of the statue. "I was getting there! Don't rush me!"
I felt a
cold breeze sweep past me and the voice was suddenly behind me. "Oh, and by the way, there's somebody watching you."
The woman straightened and turned to face me. I ducked behind the gravestone and pressed my face close to the engraved words.
That's when the head popped out of the stone just inches from my face.
CHAPTER 9
I screamed and fell backward onto my hands. The face was that of a man of thirty with sandy blond hair, but it wasn't the features that so startled me. It was the fact that I could see through those features to the stone from where his head protruded. The rest of his body floated out of the solid stone and hovered over me. My mouth flapped open and shut as he leaned down so our faces nearly touched.
"Boo."
I screamed again and scrambled backwards until my back hit another gravestone. The phantom sat back and laughed while the woman joined him by his side. She folded her arms over he chest and rolled her eyes.
"I don't see what's so funny. She's not supposed to be here," the woman pointed out.
The ghost gathered himself and waved his hand at her. "Live a little, will you? It's not like we can't take care of her. She's halfway to a heart attack already."
The woman turned her attention to me and frowned. "Who the hell are you?"
"She's with me," a voice spoke up. I whipped my head over my shoulder and watched Simon step from the shadows of a large statue.
A smile spread across my face. I scrambled to my feet and rushed over to him. He opened his arm and wrapped me against his side while I half-turned to the woman and spirit.
The woman raised an eyebrow, but a sly smile slid across her lips. "Hello, tall, dark and handsome. What are you doing out here this time of day?"
The spirit floated to her side. The sunlight flowed through him and made him difficult to see his form, but I noticed he wore a plain t-shirt and jeans that ended in sneakers. "Digging up some company, probably." He laughed and slapped his knee.
The woman curled her lips at the spirit. "Cool it, Specter, and let him talk."
Specter raised his head and glared back at her. "Stop with the googly eyes, Annabella. He's not that into you."
The woman's eyes widened in anger and she curled her hands into fists at her sides. She swung around to face him and stomped her foot on the tall grass. "Don't call me that! It's Maeve! Maeve!"