The Vampyre Legal Chronicles - James

by CC MacKenzie

  She tried to swallow and found she couldn’t as he toed off his handmade shoes.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, he tugged off his socks and tossed them and his shirt.

  He stood, tilted his pelvis and his rock hard shaft tenting in his trousers caught her attention.

  She needed more, needed him to give it to her. Because no matter what had happened between them, no matter how hard it was to love him, she was and always would be... his. Arousal wept between her thighs as his hands went to his belt and whipped it through the trouser loops. He unbuttoned his trousers. The sound of the zip had her eyes fly to his as he pulled them off along with his Calvin's and tossed them.

  Still those dark eyes stayed on hers.

  He took his swollen shaft in his fist and pumped once, twice, three times.

  "Come here," again the command in his voice made her vampyre snigger.

  As if.

  She desperately wanted to jump him, but this time she listened to her vampyre and shook her head.

  "You come here and kiss me again, vampyre."

  Dark brows winged into his hairline.

  The tip of his tongue ran across his top teeth, a sure sign of annoyance.

  "Charlie, darlin’. Do not push your luck. Come here."

  The final two words were no more than a growl which made her vampyre grin.

  Again, she shook her head.

  After a breathless moment, James shrugged in a whatever gesture and moved towards the bathroom.

  Oh no, he wasn’t walking out on her after getting her all hot and bothered.

  The dynamic in this relationship had changed and it was about time James Gillespie knew it.

  Her husband moved to open the bathroom door to find it stuck fast.

  He pushed.

  He shoved.

  It didn’t budge.

  Slowly, he turned his head to look at her.

  Charlotte stared back at him with big wide eyes.

  They were in the middle of a battle for control, something the old Charlotte would have done anything to avoid in case she upset the status quo between them. The new and improved Charlotte called the shots and it was about time James Gillespie came to terms with that fact.

  His eyes narrowed into slits.

  Her response was a toothy vampyre smile.

  This was fun.

  James moved to the bed and blew out the candle leaving the room in darkness.

  He got into bed, snuggled under the comforter and turned his back to her.

  With the flick of a finger the candle lit and the comforter flew off him to float in the air.

  His eyes opened.

  Rolling to the edge of the bed, he sat as if deep in thought as his hand rubbed the shadow of his beard on his jaw.

  His tongue did the licking of his bottom lip thing before his eyes lifted and met hers.

  She gave him a cheeky grin and fluttered her lashes like a camel in a sandstorm, all the while her vampyre was doing a bum boogie and singing, ‘Whatyagonna do? Whatyagonna do? Whatyagonna do when the witch has got you?’

  His vampyre flashed in his eyes but Charlotte held her nerve.

  Her fingers fluttered and the French doors slammed shut and locked with a loud click.

  Abruptly, the atmosphere in the room became hot.

  The only sound was their steady breathing.

  Seemingly unconcerned, James lay back against the river of fat pillows put an arm behind his head as he spread his long legs and stroked his thick, heavy shaft from root to tip.

  "You want somethin’ from me, darlin’? Wanna come and get it?"

  The glint in his eyes seriously annoyed her now.

  In her mind her vampyre hissed.

  Charlotte assured her, ‘Don’t you worry, sweetheart. I’ve got him sorted.’

  Her eyes never left his for a second as her fingertips gripped the bottom of her vest and she whipped it over her head and tossed it.

  Then her thumbs went to her panties, she tugged them down her hips before kicking them away.

  With a flick of her hand the French doors flew open.

  Another finger flick had every light in the room beam on, outlining their penthouse to the world.

  Charlotte gave her husband slitty eyes as she strolled out onto the balcony and raised her hands through the heavy curls of her hair before reaching for the heavens.

  The mistake she made was turning her back on him.

  Even her vampyre was caught off guard as she was picked up and tossed through the air to land and bounce twice right in the middle of the big bed.

  The French doors were banged closed so hard the room shook with the force of it.

  James moved fast.

  And Charlotte’s vampyre leapt.

  Chapter Eighteen

  James stalked his wife around the bed.

  She was on her feet and matching him step for step.

  No fucking way was she going to use her witchy woo woo stuff on him.

  No way.

  However, he’d learned a lot by watching her show off her new-found skills.

  She’d used her hands to create her... spells.

  Not a problem, sister.

  The rise of her vampyre triggered his and James let it go.

  "You wanna take me on, baby vampyre girl?" he taunted in a low growly voice and made a come on then sign with his fingers as he bent from the knees in a stealthy pursuit of her around the bed.

  She turned keeping pace, step by step.

  Somebody needed to tell her to wipe that smirk off her face because it was seriously pissing him off.

  He made a dive.

  She feinted, dancing on her tip toes.

  Her bouncing breasts distracted him for a millisecond.

  That was all it took as James found himself flat on his back on the floor.

  Stunned disbelief had him stare up at the ceiling.

  His vampyre roared like a lion and leapt to his feet.

  Charlotte howled with laughter, holding herself as tears streaked down her cheeks.

  James wrapped his arms tight around her as he flew backwards with her onto the bed.

  Even as he rolled her under him and caught her wrists above her head, she was still sobbing with laughter.

  "What’s so funny?"

  Her green eyes danced into his and his vampyre immediately took a back seat.

  "Your face. It was priceless. I’ve never seen you look so shocked."

  She blinked frantically, but then her forehead creased as she shook with silent laughter.

  Christ, he adored her.

  His aching shaft twitched against the silky skin of her thigh.

  She opened her legs to let him settle right into the cradle of her pelvis.

  With one hip thrust, he entered her.

  She was so hot, so wet and so tight he gasped into her mouth with the shocking pleasure of it.

  "Kiss me again, vampyre. Don't stop," she urged him on as she gyrated her pelvis.

  He couldn't help it, his mouth curved against hers. His wife was commanding him. So he kissed her with all the passion he'd long withheld from himself, with all the hope and longing returning. Now he was losing control. Dark needs came for him to do wild and wicked things to her body, and he knew he must obey those needs.

  "I'll never stop. Never, until the day I take my last breath."

  For the first time in over two hundred and twenty five years, James let himself go.

  Slowly, slowly his hips rotated and her moan vibrated through his whole body in a way that made him even harder. Every nerve in his body was centred on the ache that was both a pleasure pain and he shuddered as they found a rhythm that had him groan against her throat.

  God, she smelled fantastic and his fangs shot through his gums.

  Now she arched against him, pulling his head closer to her carotid artery.

  "Yes," she hissed. "Take me, James. Take all of me."

  He sank his fangs into her tender flesh and drank.


  The addictive flavour of her, dark rich honey, made him shudder as he took his fill. And all the while pounding into her tight, slick heat.

  A tiny part of his mind registered that the taste of her blood held something exotic, an alluring, tantalising flavor of something his instincts told him was strictly... forbidden. But his vampyre simply growled a warning that he would no longer be denied his woman.

  With the flat of his tongue he sealed the pin pricks in her neck.

  Her hips strained to meet his as he stared into the strange amber eyes of her vampyre.

  "Bite me," he commanded.

  The strength in her arm was impressive as she gripped the back of his head and pulled his neck towards her exposed needle sharp incisors. And they sank into his vein like a hot knife through butter. This time she didn’t feast, but took a small taste, as if she was unsure or scared to take too much, before her tongue slicked over his flesh to heal the tiny wound.

  Their love making now slowed down to a delicious beat, a joyous ache, as their inhales and exhales merged. As she kissed him, she was pulling the breath from his lungs as if she owned him body and soul.

  Again he experienced the faintly tingling, pin prickling sensation over his flesh that warned him something fundamental was shifting inside him. He'd felt it before, but was so far gone he couldn't remember when.

  And in his mind his vampyre, suddenly anxious, asked the question,

  ‘What is this?’

  Charlotte’s vampyre responded with a soft, an almost breathy, whisper,

  ‘We are as one, my love. Heart to heart, breath to breath and soul to soul.’

  Alarm now swept through him.

  ‘What is this?’

  ‘Magic.’

  With a roar of utter fury James withdrew from her.

  As if she'd been thrown off a cliff from a great height, her emotions all over the place, Charlotte keenly felt the loss, not just of his body, but of the connection from her mind and her heart. Dread, delight, desire, and an indisputable sexual hunger fought within her. Her mind was spinning, bewildered. All she knew for an absolute certainty was that her body so badly needed the release, she whimpered. Why wasn't he kissing her the way she wanted it? Possessive, fierce and loving. Now she couldn't think, couldn't begin to reason why he'd stepped away from her. Incomprehensible wants destroyed her - to sample his skin, to have his heavy body crushing and grinding into hers.

  She took a shuddering breath to try and clear her mind.

  Okay.

  Her vampyre had made a mistake by telling him they were as one and that their blood carried magic.

  A big mistake by the look of things.

  Panting, heart sprinting with alarm, she lay on her back.

  And stared up into searing eyes the color of molten lava.

  Into the eyes of one very angry, very aroused vampyre prince.

  "How dare you use magic on me while we make love. How dare you?"

  He stood over her on the bed, legs spread apart. His heavy sac hanging low. His huge erection glistening with the evidence of her arousal stood to attention against his rock hard belly. It occurred to her that he had the body of a Deity. Strong. Divine.

  His fist thumped his chest once, twice.

  "I am vampyre!" he roared and threw his head back.

  The whole apartment shook as if hit by a sonic boom.

  She hadn't used magic on him, on them.

  Didn't he understand her magic, her white magic, was in his blood now that he'd fed from her?

  Her vampyre was confused.

  Charlotte was confused.

  What had she done wrong?

  Taking great care not to further enrage the beast standing over her, Charlotte slid up the bed until she found her bare back pressed against the fine silk of the padded headboard.

  Since becoming vampyre she’d developed heightened olfactory, auditory and thermoception senses so when the temperature outside on the balcony plunged along with the sound of heavy feet landing, she realized they were Centuri guards responding to James’s fury.

  "Leave us!" he bellowed like a raging big bull.

  The Centuri left as fast as they’d arrived and now his eyes dropped to her.

  And what she read there, an outraged ferocity, had her vampyre whimper.

  Oh my God.

  "I don’t know what I’ve done wrong, James. But I’m very sorry if I've upset you," she said with a sincerity even he couldn’t mistake as anything other than genuine.

  His eyes narrowed fractionally.

  He jumped from the bed to land on the floor and those eyes burned a possessive path up over her body until they reached her eyes.

  "Kneel before me, wife."

  She opened her mouth but before she could utter a syllable, Charlotte found herself lifted, dumped unceremoniously on her feet and forced to her knees.

  James stalked around her.

  His vampyre had full control.

  He knew he was frightening her and couldn’t be sorry for it.

  The time had come for him to complete her education in the ways of his people and if she so much as uttered a sound she was in deep shit.

  "Ezekiel tells me you are a white witch."

  She went to open her mouth and his finger point silenced her.

  Just as well.

  "Do not say one single word, darlin’, or your arse will be crimson by the time I’ve finished with you. Do you understand me?"

  She took a shaky breath, nodded, her eyes glued to the floor.

  Excellent.

  His vampyre was very happy as he kept his deep voice low and spoke nice and slow so she couldn’t misunderstand him, "We do not mate with your kind... witch. Ever. And the reason for that is very simple. Our species are not compatible. There are laws, there are rules, all laid down for excellent reasons, which must be obeyed. I am in the unfortunate position of being married to a witch. A witch I love."

  Now her vampyre rose and took control.

  Her head snapped up and vivid amber eyes searched his.

  He read hope, relief and something else which looked very much like triumph.

  Well, he was going to shatter that little illusion.

  "If you ever use witchcraft on me at any time or in any way I will walk out of that door and never come back to you. I am hanging on to our marriage by a thread here. As you know I’ve been in New York. The vampyre Jurastic Council ordered me to annul our union. Do you hear and understand me, Charlie?"

  She closed her eyes and swayed.

  Hell, he hadn't meant to tell her the bad news that way.

  He'd planned to take his time, to discuss their situation like the adult he was.

  The way her face went too white too fast told him he had her full and undivided attention.

  "I gave them an undertaking, a firm promise, that you loved me too much to ever use magic on me and they have agreed to keep an eye on our... situation. Do you love me?"

  Her amber eyes opened, riveted to his and he read the truth even as she whispered the word,

  "Yes."

  Silence.

  Those big eyes, imploring, anxious and alarmed never left his.

  And what he had to do next made his mouth feel as dry as the Sahara.

  It would be a test of endurance and a test of the depth of their love and if she failed it, it was over.

  His vampyre took his erection in his fist and stroked in a smooth rhythm.

  "On your hands and knees, wife."

  Chapter Nineteen

  Anais and Marcus were back in bed, too.

  His wife stared up at him, her almond shaped eyes filled with worry and alarm.

  "What on earth would the Order say about me? I'm an empath."

  Under the flat of his hand her heart rate sped even faster.

  He understood, she couldn't help but be alarmed.

  "Empaths are not magical creatures. You are safe."

  The way her thoughts raced across her expressive face, he could see the penny dro
pping as she realized becoming vampyre was a complicated business.

  If it wasn't one thing it was another.

  According to Anais, Charlotte was growing physically stronger every day. She was even taking daily self-defence classes with Saira and Ian Macpherson. The sheer physicality of exercise was lifting her spirits.

  "Vassili and Voltaire might be priests, but they sound diabolical to me. Explain the Dyunik Monastery and where it is?"

  "It is an ancient monastery deep in the mountains of the Northern Caucasus between the Black Sea and the Caspian Sea that forms part of the traditional border between Europe and Asia."

  "And what do these priests do there?"

  Marcus wondered how much to tell her. He didn't want to hide the brutality of vampyre history from her, too, but neither did he want to scare her. He held her close, enjoying the sensation of running his hand down the silk of her nightwear, caressing her tight little bottom. He loved these intimate moments and looked forward to them more and more every day. They were a first for him and he was making the most of it. Three days and nights away from her had not been fun. Next time he travelled, he promised himself, he'd take her with him.

  "During the time of the great magic purge, witches, wizards, all magical creatures were taken to Dyunik to be tested, to see if their magic was dark. If positive proof was found, they were sent unto The Fade. Usually by fire."

  He felt her tremble in his arms.

  "They burned them? It sounds like the witch trials in Salem."

  "Yes. Who do you think led those trials?"

  She blinked as she stared into his face. "Vampyres?"

  He nodded.

  She heaved a great sigh. "There is so much I don't understand, so much I need to learn."

  True.

  But she didn't need a history lesson this night, she needed love.

  "You have plenty of time to learn, hundreds of years. Dinnae fash yersel, my wee darlin’."

  "Pardon?"

  He smiled. "Do not worry yourself."

  "Don't know why you couldn't have said that in the first place," she grumbled.

  In a smooth move, he rolled her onto her back and caged her between his arms and legs.

  "Did you miss me while I was in New York?"