Taming the Vampire: A Paranormal Romance Novella

by Chloe Hart

  He leaned in close. “Let me be the strong one, just for tonight. Just for an hour. And then my strength will belong to you,” he reminded her.

  That did it. He felt her muscles relax, and he wasted no time in pulling her skirt down her body and tossing it on the floor.

  He forced himself to look at her face and not between her legs, even though the scent that rose from those damp curls was almost killing him.

  He reached for her tee shirt next, and she didn’t resist him. He tugged it up over her head along with her bra, and then she was naked, too.

  “Have you ever wanted to pretend?” he asked, looking down at her.

  “Pretend what?” she whispered, her green eyes enormous as she stared up at him.

  “Pretend you belong to someone,” he said, grasping his cock in his hand and stroking her slit with the head, drawing even more moisture from her depths.

  “Never,” she said firmly, but her eyes closed and her head arched back against the pillow.

  “Will you now?”

  “Will I what?”

  “Pretend you belong to me.”

  Her eyes snapped open and she stared up at him.

  He couldn’t know how tempted she felt. How his words stoked some kind of yearning in her, so deeply repressed she hadn’t known it was there. If she let her guard down, if she gave up control, would it destroy her?

  Jack was staring down at her as though she, and not he, was the one with the power. Which she would be, in a matter of minutes. Could it really hurt to surrender just once, to let him be in control?

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He kissed her, hard. “Spread your legs,” he told her, and she was surprised at how eagerly she complied.

  He grabbed both her wrists and pinned her hands above her head. “Leave them there.”

  She nodded, so turned on she didn’t trust herself to speak. She was more likely to moan than utter a coherent word.

  He looked so magnificent looming over her, like a gladiator or a barbarian prince. In the next second he’d be inside her, and it didn’t seem soon enough.

  But then, instead, he headed south.

  “Hey!” she cried out, grabbing his head with both hands.

  He looked up at her with his eyebrows raised, his head poised an inch or two above the danger zone.

  “I’m fairly certain I told you to leave your hands where I put them,” he told her, his voice a low, warm growl.

  If there was any man in the world she’d allow to go down on her it would be this one, but that particular act had never appealed to her. Sexy undead barbarian guy notwithstanding.

  She cleared her throat. “Sorry,” she said gruffly. “But I don’t do that. Or, well, have it done to me. Whatever.”

  “I know.”

  “What? I mean, how could you know that?”

  “Because you’re a warrior. You’d never let yourself be that vulnerable with a man unless he was very, very sure of himself—sure enough to convince you—and none of the guys you’ve dated have been that confident.”

  He was grinning now, and she glared back at him. “I’ve been with plenty of confident guys.”

  “If they never tasted you, they weren’t confident enough. Or else they were just bad in bed. Not that it matters. Between us, it’s not negotiable.”

  “What do you mean, not negotiable? This is my body we’re talking about.”

  “Not right now. Right now, you belong to me. Remember?”

  She opened her mouth to protest, to take it back, but he grabbed her wrists again, pinned them above her head, and brought his mouth down on hers.

  God, that vampire could kiss. He kissed like he fought, every bit of his strength and passion and energy fused into a single physical act.

  He kissed her into submission, and when he knew it, he pulled away.

  “Your hands stay there, Liz. I mean it.”

  This time, Liz closed her eyes and kept her hands exactly where he’d put them, above her head on the pillow.

  He knew the exact moment she truly surrendered, and he settled down between her legs with his hands on the curve of her hips.

  For a moment he just breathed in her scent. Desire, strength, vulnerability—a thousand different things. Then he lowered his head and licked softly.

  A shudder passed through her, and he smiled into the sweet tangle of curls. Then he licked again, a little light-headed from the flavor of his warrior, and he wasn’t sure if the next tremor he felt was Liz’s or his own.

  He pulled back slightly and moved his hands down to frame her. Strange that a warrior should have such softness at her very center, such satin and rose petals. He let his thumbs press into that silky skin, spreading her open. He blew cool air against her and felt her whole body shake.

  He needed to taste the deep places. He settled himself in for a slow assault, his tongue tracing every inch of her honeyed folds. Liz’s muscles spasmed and her legs started to close in, pressing against his shoulders. He grabbed her thighs and spread her wide again.

  He thrust his tongue deep inside her, the heat and flavor so intense he had to fight to keep his demon down. Liz was close now, her clit swollen and throbbing, and he flicked his tongue across that nub of flesh again and again, feeling the tremors taking his girl to the place he wanted her to be. When she finally fell apart she screamed, and Jack almost fell apart himself.

  He felt her drift slowly back to earth and he made it as sweet for her as he could, licking her softly, his tongue as delicate as a cat’s, before levering himself up to cover her body with his own, absorbing the final waves of pleasure as he kissed the sheen of sweat from her shoulders, her neck, her face.

  He lifted himself up on his elbows, and her eyes fluttered open.

  “Tell me who you belong to,” he said, knowing it was foolish, pathetic even, but wanting to pretend she was his for as long as she’d let him.

  “You,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed and her eyes dilated. Maybe he’d had to drug her with lust first, but it was sweet to hear her say it.

  “Tell me what you need.”

  “You! Need you inside—please, Jack—”

  And because he couldn’t wait another second he slid in, to the hilt, and she was so hot and tight and wet stars burst behind his eyelids.

  Liz had been sure a split second ago that nothing could feel as good as Jack’s tongue. Ten minutes before that she would have sworn nothing could feel as good as Jack’s fingers.

  Now she knew she’d been wrong. Twice.

  He was filling her, stretching her, touching places no one else had ever reached. She opened her eyes, and saw him staring down at her as if she were the only woman he’d ever wanted. His neck muscles were corded, his jaw tight.

  “Liz,” he said. His thrusts inside her were hard and deep and possessive, each one sending a shock through her over-loaded system.

  “Liz,” he said again. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

  Something inside her began to crescendo, and she could hardly believe it. “I can’t come again,” she gasped.

  He lowered his forehead to touch hers, and she thought he was smiling. “Yes, you can,” he told her. “I’ll come with you, this time.”

  His words sent her over the edge. Her muscles spasmed, tightening around his cock, and she felt his whole body jerk as he slammed into her one more time, calling out her name.

  A flash of light, a sound like thunder. Her body was hotter than fire and colder than ice.

  “Jack!” she shouted, confused by the light, the noise, the riot of sensation that had replaced the sweetness she’d been feeling just a moment before.

  She reached out blindly, but Jack was gone, his body no longer covering hers.

  “Jack!” she cried out again, feeling for him, and found him lying beside her. Her vision cleared, and he was there, on his side, his face contorted with pain.

  She rose up on her knees, frantic. “Jack—what’s happening to you?”

  The spell was
hurting him, maybe killing him. She slid an arm under his shoulders, and suddenly she was holding him against her chest, cradled in her arms.

  He didn’t weigh anything.

  She carried him out of the bedroom, into the living room, intending to end the spell by stamping out the burning herbs.

  “Liz—I’m all right,” Jack panted. She looked at him and the pain was gone from his face. She set him on his feet and he stared at her.

  “My God,” he said.

  Liz looked down at herself and saw that she was glowing, tiny motes of light clinging to her skin in a nimbus of radiance.

  “I always knew we’d be good together,” he said, and Liz looked up at him. He was smiling, but he looked exhausted and ill.

  “Jack, this isn’t a good idea. The spell...it’s hurting you.”

  “No,” he said quickly. “It’s taken my strength, but I’m not hurt. I’ll be fine, I promise. The spell worked perfectly. You should go now and find the Kraken. That’s what tonight was about.”

  She didn’t move.

  “Go,” he said, his voice sounding stronger. She hesitated another second, then turned to leave.

  “Liz?”

  She turned back immediately. “What?”

  “I’m a little particular about who gets to see you naked. The Kraken is not on my approved list. Maybe some clothes?”

  “Oh. Right.” She paused abruptly, looking at him but seeing something else. “Jack, I can sense it. I know where it is.” She took a deep breath. “It’s down by the waterfront. Near Battery Wharf.”

  She hurried back into the bedroom. She tore some clothes before she figured out how to control her strength, but after a few minutes she was wearing her usual jeans and tee shirt and was striding along the deserted city streets. She could still see the Kraken in her mind’s eye, down at the harbor, and she knew the power flowing through her was giving her this ability.

  The spell had worked, all right. The way she felt now, she’d be willing to take on the Kraken, King Kong, and Godzilla with one hand tied behind her back.

  Feeling strong was what she lived for. Fighting evil was what she lived for. She should have been exhilarated, on top of the world.

  But all she could think about was the vampire she’d left behind.

  Chapter Seven

  She was a goddess.

  Not because of the spell, although the golden halo helped from a special effects standpoint. But Liz Marlowe had always had the power, grace, and beauty of Artemis. Of a divine warrior.

  Once she left the apartment Jack had gone stumbling after her, his steps slow and uncertain, his body fragile with humanity.

  The spell hadn’t hurt him—it had just made him human again. Human without a heartbeat, or breath, or life, or those things that made humanity endurable.

  His instincts told him to wait in the safety of Liz’s apartment until the spell ended. But he couldn’t stand thinking of her out there, fighting the Kraken, without at least trying to follow.

  Jack found them near the end, coming to the docks in time to witness the last minutes of their battle.

  They were caught in a kind of embrace, darkness and light together. The Kraken’s deadly cold against Liz’s blazing heat.

  She was incredible. In all his long life, he’d never seen anything to equal her. Fearless and glorious and full of grace, she was an angel burning with divine fire.

  They had each other by the throat. Her light diminished just for a moment, and Jack stumbled towards them. But Liz never wavered, never faltered, and with a wild, keening cry she fought back, glowing brighter and brighter as she grappled with her enemy, until looking at her was like looking at the sun.

  There was a flash of light so bright he was blinded. He closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them again, Liz was casting a lifeless, tentacled body far into the ocean.

  She stood looking after it for what seemed like a long time. Jack was in the shadows several yards away, leaning against the wall of an old warehouse. He wanted to call out to her, to cross the space between them and take her in his arms, weak as they were.

  But he’d told her it was just for one night. She’d surrendered to him because of that. She would never have made herself vulnerable if she’d thought he’d want more, demand more. She was a warrior. She’d never be vulnerable with him again.

  Jack ducked around the corner so she wouldn’t be able to see him if she turned around. He walked a few more feet, then closed his eyes and leaned against the building.

  He would have to leave Boston, he realized with a sick feeling in his stomach. He’d fallen in love with Liz Marlowe, and he’d never be able to stay in the same city with her.

  “Hey, man, you okay?”

  He opened his eyes to see a teenager standing in front of him, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Had one too many I guess.”

  The boy shifted his feet. “Then I guess you can give me your wallet, and your watch if you’ve got one.”

  Jack stared at him in disbelief. “Kid, you should move on. Now.”

  A glint of silver, and it wasn’t so funny anymore. Jack reminded himself he was under the weather, to put it mildly, and anyway he didn’t fight humans—even when they richly deserved it.

  He held out his hands. “I don’t carry a wallet, and I don’t wear a watch, but—”

  There was a snarl of rage, a blur of golden light, and Liz had her hands around the kid’s throat.

  “Liz! He’s human. Not a shining example of the species, but human.”

  Jack felt a rush of sensation. He turned his head towards the harbor, and saw that the eastern sky was turning pink.

  The sun was coming up. The spell was ending.

  He looked back at Liz, and saw the glow around her fading slowly, until she looked like an ordinary woman again.

  Not that Liz Marlowe could ever look ordinary.

  “Lady, chill out!”

  “Chill out yourself, you little scum bag,” Liz spat at him, her hands still around his throat. “If you laid a hand on him I’ll knock your teeth down your throat. Did you?”

  “Jesus, lady, what’s it to you? Do you even know this guy?”

  “He’s mine,” Liz said between her teeth.

  Jack reeled back, and if he hadn’t bumped into the building behind him he would have fallen to the ground. She’d used the words of the claiming ritual, the words no vampire used to anyone but an intended mate. Earlier that night they’d been pretending, but this?

  Even if she meant it, she didn’t understand. She didn’t know what those words meant to his kind.

  But that didn’t matter to his demon. The beast in him was straining at its bonds, and Jack was petrified. His strength had returned, but not his control.

  Liz brought the kid’s face close to her. “Did you hurt him?” she asked, almost wishing the answer was yes so she could punch him into next week.

  “No!”

  She let him go abruptly. “It’s your lucky day, then. Get the hell out of here.”

  The boy ran, and Liz turned to Jack, who was leaning against the building as though he could barely stand. He seemed dazed. She could tell the spell had ended, so why wasn’t Jack back to normal?

  “He hurt you. Did he hurt you? Or is it the spell? Why aren’t you—”

  “I’m fine.” His voice sounded strained. “Liz, you need to get out of here.”

  “What? I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what—”

  “Damn it, Liz!” His eyes turned yellow, his expression feral. Fangs burst from his gums. “I’m not playing here, warrior. Get the hell away from me.”

  Liz had seen Jack in vamp face before, but this time something strange ran down her spine. “Jack, what’s going on? Are you mad at me?”

  He was gripping the brick building with one hand, and suddenly a piece of it crumbled beneath his fingers. He stumbled backwards, and when she went to follow he held up a hand.

  “Go. Now. Li
z, I can’t—”

  What the hell was going on? “Is it the spell? Please, Jack, just tell me what’s going on. Why are you trying to send me away?”

  “Liz, please!” He looked desperate, and words came tumbling out of him. “You laid claim to me. You didn’t mean to, but...if you don’t run right now, I’ll lay claim to you. I’ll make you mine. I can feel the demon, feel it inside me...but it’s not just the demon...Christ, it’s all of me. You’ll try to stop me, and the only way—Liz, I won’t stop until you kill me. Please—I can’t—oh, God, I can’t—”

  Liz stood frozen. Staring at Jack’s face, the torment there, she knew they were at the brink of something irrevocable. If she went tumbling off there was no coming back.

  She was terrified. To the roots of her soul, she was terrified. She should take the way out Jack was giving her and run the hell away.

  But if she did that, it would be herself she was running from. And she didn’t want to do that anymore.

  Even so, she was a heartbeat away from doing it. From running.

  Only she waited a second too long.

  Jack had never looked less human as he came for her, a savage growl in his throat. If reason and logic had any part in this, she would have reminded herself reasonably and logically that he probably wasn’t intending to attack her—at least not in the fight-to-the-death kind of way. But she was still in the grip of fear, the deepest fear she’d ever known, and when he came within striking distance, she struck.

  He parried the blow with ease and came at her again, and Liz, falling back on instinct, went into full-blown warrior mode. And Jack was Jack, powerful and relentless, and it took every ounce of her skill and strength just to hold him off.

  This was their last battle. She could kill him, or she could surrender, body and soul. This was her final stand, and she knew it.

  Not a word was spoken. Liz was panting, but that was the only sound outside the dull thud of fists and feet, of flesh striking flesh, and muffled grunts when a blow landed.

  Jack’s demon face was feral, inhuman, and should have inspired nothing but fear. And yet she was filled with a strange exhilaration.

  They were perfectly matched. The warrior in her felt a rush of joy, a sense of completion she’d never felt with another opponent. She saw herself in Jack, this glorious, savage being, everything in him actualized in the raw intensity of physical passion.