by Aubrey Ross
Easing back until just the head of his cock remained between her lips, she looked up and asked permission with her gaze.
“I said anything you wanted.” His voice sounded almost strangled.
She pushed past the tight ring of muscle and slid into his ass. He was hot and soft inside. Was this how she felt to him? She slid in and out, and his cock jerked against her lips. He took her face between his palms and urged her closer to his body. His cock filled her mouth and she worked a second finger into his tight hole.
With a hoarse cry, he pulled out of her mouth and pulled down on his balls, determined to postpone his climax. “Bend over the bed. Now!”
His face was contorted with lust and she’d never felt so powerful. Thrilled by his lack of control, she bent over the bed and rested her forearms against the mattress. He opened a compartment behind her, and she tried to see what he was doing. She knew better than to ask, but she heard the sound of a condom wrapper tearing open.
He turned her head back around and said, “Look straight ahead.”
Her bottom cheeks were pulled apart and something cool oozed into her crack. He rubbed the slippery substance over and into her bottom. She closed her eyes. Oh God, he was going to fuck her ass!
“I wasn’t going to do this tonight, but I’ve reconsidered.” His fingers pushed into her, sliding easily in the lube. “You come harder when I touch you here than anywhere else. I suspect you’re going to love this as much as I do.”
Anticipation sent shivers down her spine. Finally, a man who wouldn’t apologize for wanting to fuck her every way possible. Then an image of his cock flashed into her mind, and her eyes flew open wide. He was fucking huge! Could he even get that thing inside her?
The blunt head of his cock pressed against her anus, and she bit down on her lower lip. “We need to do this together. Push back on to me while I push in.”
His hands grasped her hips and he drove forward. She pushed back, her fingers twisting in the bedspread. Wider and wider she spread. Pressure spiked into pain and she cried out. His flared cock head slipped inside her and he paused. Reaching around from the side, he circled her clit as she adjusted to the invasion. The sting receded, leaving overwhelming pressure.
“You are so fucking tight.” He groaned.
“You think?” She couldn’t help the sarcastic jibe. “Push in or pull out. This is killing me.”
“As my lady commands.” He drove steadily inward, stealing her breath and invading her soul. Their bodies fused and she tossed her head. Lights danced before her eyes and her breath escaped in a low moan. He pulled back and hot tingles raced in his wake.
“Oh God!” Cascading ripples of sensation followed his cock like the tail of a comet.
He chuckled and executed another slow stroke. The inescapable pressure was one thing, but her entire body seemed to come alive each time he slid outward. Another coating of lube eased the last of the sting. He moved smoothly, steadily, his fingers lazily strumming over her clit.
“Was I right? Do you like it?”
“Yes, sir. Don’t stop. Please, fuck me hard.”
He whispered her name as his massive cock drove reality away. Higher and hotter, she’d never felt anything like it, never dreamed sensations could be so intense. His presence drove into her mind with his next stroke and she came hard, gasping and welcoming him home.
Her pleasure only sped his pace. His free hand pinched her nipples and rubbed her clit with no apparent pattern. She never knew where the teasing touch would appear, only that it wouldn’t leave her entirely.
Beyond acceptance, she shoved back against him, taking him deeper with each thrust. He moved through her mind, weaving their souls together. Her nipples beaded and her core pulsed, desperate for penetration. If only he had two cocks! As if he sensed her lust-addled thought, his long middle finger slid into her feminine core. She cried out sharply as another orgasm rushed up to claim her.
Her body clenched and rippled, the pleasure momentarily robbing her of coherent thought. He thrust deeply one last time and joined her in the abyss. His harsh breathing echoed in her ear as his being slipped from her mind. They shuddered together, his fingers prolonging the spasms as he gently pulled on her clit.
Strength bled out of her legs and she collapsed across the bed. He carefully separated their bodies, disposed of the condom, and crawled onto the bed beside her. “Are you all right?”
“You know the answer to that.” She playfully punched his shoulder. “Don’t be so damned smug.”
“Me? Smug? Never.” Sprawled out on his back, he pulled her on top of him and leisurely kissed her mouth. “I think the only thing I haven’t done is let you ride me.”
She smiled against his kiss-dampened lips. “And when can we mark that off your list?”
“Is something wrong with right now?”
She wiggled a bit to determine the validity of his claim. “I know good and well you came. How can you be hard again already?”
“I’m part vampire, remember? I’m pretty much hard anytime I’m not totally engrossed in something else.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She folded her legs beneath her and pushed up against his chest. “I like being on top.” Reaching down between them, she guided his cock to the mouth of her passage.
“Well, enjoy it while it lasts, sweetheart.” He grasped her hips and brought her down hard. “It’s about my least favorite position.”
“I’ll just bet.” He cupped her breasts as she found the rhythm, and they both enjoyed the ride.
Chapter Five
Mesmerized by the flashing lights and musical cacophony, Darius stood inside the casino and waited for his senses to adjust to the stimulation. He’d seen Las Vegas on television shows and in magazines. Still, nothing prepared his preternatural senses for the barrage of sights, sounds—and smells. How did humans tolerate this chaos?
“Darius.” Monique strolled up to him and looped her slender arm through his. “How have you been? It’s been ages.”
Her dark hair had been cut in a sleek, chin-length bob that artfully framed her lovely features. A strapless cocktail dress outlined her elegant figure and cunning gleamed in her jet-black eyes. At first glance she appeared almost fragile, but Darius knew the vicious predator concealed beneath her charming façade.
It was an insult for Samcillian to send his daughter to greet a fellow ancient, but Darius would rather speak with Monique anyway, so he let the rudeness slide. “I’ve been well enough, I suppose. Is there somewhere we can speak privately?”
She led him to a bar in the far corner of the casino. High, round booths created semiprivate enclosures along the back wall. “Will this do or should we go upstairs?” Her lustful expression promised more than conversation if he insisted on complete privacy. Fucking her would be no sacrifice, but he wasn’t in the mood to play.
“This is fine.” Ella’s disappearance wasn’t really a secret. In fact it wasn’t even important to anyone but him.
She slipped into the booth and waved the waitress away. “So, what can we do for you? Father sends his regards. He would have attended you himself, but we’re dealing with some employee issues that needed his personal attention.”
“I’m sure this place keeps you busy. I’ll try not to take up too much of your time.” He slid in across from her and folded his hands on the tabletop. The environment was more subdued here, less overwhelming. Perhaps Michael was right. He really did need to get out more, reacquaint himself with the world around him. “Ella is missing.” He came right to the point. “The last person seen with her was Taerok.”
“How unfortunate. Taerok is dead.”
“I suspected as much, but I wanted to be sure.” He lowered his voice, speaking so softly no human could process the sound. “If you don’t mind my asking, how did Taerok die?” He knew the answer. He just wanted to see if her answer would be truthful or some clever lie.
“He was killed by his half-brother’s soldiers.” She dropped her
voice as well. “They call themselves Sentinels.”
“I’ve heard of them. Is your father planning retaliation for the murder?”
She laughed and leaned back against the booth. “You really are old school, aren’t you? Taerok reaped the ramifications of his own choices. My father disowned him long ago. Nothing Taerok did has any effect on my father.”
“Taerok was a direct descendant of your father’s bloodline. How can you dismiss his loss so casually?”
“Taerok was on a quest to transform himself into a day-dweller. We are nocturnal and proud of it. Father warned Taerok that his obsession would likely cost him his life, but Taerok wouldn’t listen. Retaliation would serve no purpose. Taerok was the aggressor. The Sentinels were only protecting their own.”
“Do you know what happened to Taerok’s toy?”
“Raze?”
“I don’t know his name. He was unusually attractive, with dark, reddish hair.”
“Yeah, that’s Raze. I didn’t realize he was involved in this. Our intel only mentioned Taerok. Have you checked with George Feddar?”
“I’m not familiar with that name.”
“George was Taerok’s business manager. In fact, I think he managed many of Ella’s interests too.”
“Human?”
“I honestly don’t know. He’s not a vampire, but he doesn’t seem quite human either.”
Darius nodded. “Where can I find Feddar? And if he doesn’t know anything, how do I contact the Sentinels?”
“Try Feddar first. If he can’t help you, you’ll have to talk with Father. I’ve never interacted with the Sentinels.”
* * *
Catering to the unique needs of vampires and other paranormal beings, Station X was hard to find, exclusive, and very expensive. The ground floor was a dance club like any other, but the upper level housed private rooms and specially equipped “session halls”. The amenities of the upper level were even more costly than the drinks, so they’d arrived in a borrowed Ferrari and Max had been flashing wads of cash ever since.
“What’s Taerok’s connection to this place?” Colette leaned in and shouted so her voice would carry above the pulsing music. Per Max’s instructions, she wore a figure-hugging black minidress and thigh-high boots. Beneath the dress she was naked and she had never felt so naughty. A velvet choker encircled her throat. The discreet loop at the front identified her as a pet without broadcasting the fact needlessly.
“He may or may not own the place. We weren’t able to determine which, but he’s definitely provided them with talent on several occasions.” Max wore black pants and a simple short-sleeved shirt. With a subdued gray and blue pattern, the shirt was about the most colorful garment Colette had ever seen him wear. Faded fatigues and a black T-shirt were far more his style.
The manager’s office was situated above the stage and a large two-way mirror overlooked the dance floor. They needed to draw the attention of the manager before they attempted to access the private rooms.
Max led her onto the dance floor and Colette ignored the tension gripping her stomach. She’d been wild and uninhibited last night. All she had to do was draw on that same sensuality and respond to the smoldering hunger that erupted each time Max touched her.
His hands skimmed down her sides from her armpits to her hips. She swayed toward him, letting the music flow through her. He pushed his knee between her legs and drew her near, pressing her sex against the hard muscle of his thigh.
She rested her hands on his shoulders and rocked in time to the music. Heat flared and their gazes locked. He slid one hand upward, his thumb resting beneath her breast as she undulated her hips.
All around them couples gyrated and ground against each other. How were they supposed to appear more provocative than anyone else?
We’re shopping for a third. Look around at other men—or other women. His hand squeezed her ass as he added the last suggestion.
He’d sent his thoughts to her before, but she hadn’t tried to reply. He was so damned gorgeous. How was she supposed to convince anyone she wanted someone else?
You don’t want someone instead of me. You want someone in addition to me.
Finding the link he’d established, she sent her response to his mind. I have no problem with telepathy, but don’t read my mind.
He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. I apologize. You’re just extremely easy to read.
Rather than letting the comment annoy her, she immersed herself in her role. Grasping his upper arms, she rubbed her pussy against his thigh. The muscle teased her folds and awakened her clit after just a few seconds. As soon as the familiar melting sensation curled through her abdomen, she forced herself to look around. She boldly swept her gaze over every attractive man she saw and even eyed a few women.
Max grabbed her ass with one hand and her chin with the other, glaring into her eyes. “See anything you like?”
She quickly lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry, sir.”
He shoved her back then grabbed her wrist and pulled her off the dance floor. Intentionally bumping into people as he passed, he made as much of a disruption as he dared without being thrown out of the club.
Marching away from the stage gave them the best chance of being spotted by the manager. He pushed her up against the wall near the open staircase. His hand slipped between her thighs and Colette instinctively grabbed his wrist. She had no way of knowing if the manager was watching, but half the heads in the bar were turned their way.
His fingertips barely grazed her curls, despite the position of his hand. Her pussy ached, uncaring that they were making a spectacle of themselves. She eased the tension on her thighs and Max slid his middle finger into her folds. Her senses hummed, her arousal amplified by all the curious glances.
“Do you need assistance, miss?” The bouncer was not as tall as Max, but he was even more heavily muscled.
“She’s fine,” Max snapped.
“I didn’t ask you.”
“I… No, I’m fine.” She tried to smile and failed.
“You hesitated.”
She pushed Max’s hand away from her crotch and stepped to his side. “There’s no problem. Just a misunderstanding.”
The bouncer touched the small transceiver nestled in his ear and nodded. “Mr. Bronstein would like to speak with you.”
“Who the fuck is Mr. Bronstein?”
“The owner.” He motioned toward a doorway behind the stairs.
“What is this about?” Max crossed his arms over his chest. “You heard her. There isn’t a problem.”
“I suspect you’ll want to hear what he has to say. It’ll just take a minute.”
Max wrapped his arm around her waist as they followed the bouncer. The doorway led to a hallway lined with storage rooms. At the back was a private staircase, which brought them to a narrow corridor. The bouncer knocked on the door and pushed it open for them, but remained in the hall as they stepped into the posh office.
A thin man in a business suit stood in front of the two-way mirror overlooking the dance floor. He didn’t turn around as he spoke. “Are you aware of our invitation-only amenities?”
“I’ve heard about some of them, but I’m not sure what you offer is worth what you charge.”
With the hint of a smile curving his lips, the man turned around. “I’m Randolph Bronstein, owner of Station X.”
“Your thug told us your name.”
“Would you like something to drink or do you prefer a direct source?”
“My feeding habits are none of your business.”
“True enough.” His gaze swept over Colette before returning to Max. “You seemed dissatisfied with the experience downstairs. What can I do to make your evening more enjoyable?”
Max pulled Colette in front of him and wrapped his arm around her waist, staring at Bronstein over her head. “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?”
“She’s truly beautiful and very obviously yours. Does she require punishment perhap
s or—”
“Don’t presume to know what she needs.”
“All right. Please explain what she needs. I’ll do my best to accommodate you both.”
“She wants someone she can play with, someone who will cuddle her while I’m away.”
“And you’re reluctant to establish such a relationship?”
“Relationship?” Max scoffed. “She’s all soft and submissive whenever I’m around, but how do I ensure her loyalty when I’m not there to command her?”
She made a soft, distressed sound, but didn’t speak or make eye contact.
“I’m away a lot. It’s not unreasonable for her to want companionship. I might even enjoy having a second pet.”
“Please don’t be offended, but it would be helpful if I understood how you and the young lady became…attached.”
“I bought her, of course. How else do you ensure the obedience of a pet?”
“I see.” He moved toward his large desk, his disappointment clear. “I’m afraid I can’t help you. I don’t utilize slaves or indentured servants. I can, however, refer you to someone who does.”
“I was told Taerok had the best flesh on this side of the Veil. Do you know how I can contact him?”
“Actually, this gentleman associates quite closely with Taerok. I’m sure George Feddar can assist you with your selection.”
* * *
Darius fidgeted on the wooden chair, impatiently waiting for Feddar to acknowledge his existence. This was absurd. No, it was intolerable! He liked Los Angeles even less than he had liked Las Vegas. Fifty years ago Feddar would have been prostrate before him, begging for his indulgence and offering sexual tribute. Instead Darius was kept waiting in this sleazy bar as if he were a common visitor.
Michael was wrong. The traditions were there for a reason. The Charter must be upheld.
A woman wearing only a black lace thong danced and shimmied, arranging her body in obscene poses not far away. Males of several races crowded around the small stage. They tucked money in her g-string and whistled as she displayed her assets for their lustful perusal.