by Carter, Mina
He opened his eyes and looked in the mirror. His reflection looked back at him. A tall, fairly normal-looking man. His dark hair was cut short these days, no longer the loose, shoulder-length locks he'd preferred when he was alive. Ice blue eyes looked back at him, their dazzling, almost luminescent color richer than any mortal eye.
He concentrated and the intensity faded. There, he could just about pass for human now. If you knew what you were looking for, though, you would know him to be an immortal. The pale colour of his skin and the way he held himself would give him away. The elegance Grace displayed as she danced, and Jaron’s more masculine version of that same elegance, was indicative of vampire blood.
Another quick glance in the mirror reassured him he was fit for company, and a shudder of relief shook his shoulders. He needed to be careful of his reactions, especially around Grace. With his blood already swirling through her veins and his control on a knife edge with her, she was doubly dangerous to him. All it would take to start the conversion would be his bite. For him to take her blood. She’d taken his willingly, albeit unknowingly, and the tiniest nip from him would seal her fate.
Red on yellow. The smell of blood in the air. Screaming. His screams as Julia died under the wheels of a carriage rather than face what he was. Face being married to a monster...
***
“You’re letting me go? You can’t do that.”
Grace sighed, her arms folded over her chest as she looked at her cousin. Fayte’s colour was up, her eyes flashing in anger. Never a good sign.
“Actually, I can, Fayte.” Grace kept her cool. She didn’t want to get into this argument right now but as Fayte had just handed her an expenses form for the last month then she figured it was overdue. Especially since she hadn’t needed a caregiver for months and from the form in her hands, Fayte was using the time to indulge herself, at Grace’s expense.
She nodded toward the stage. “As you can see, I don’t need you to care for me anymore—“
“But you can’t do this, I’m family. After all I’ve done for you these last couple of years…you-you can’t treat me like this.” Fayte’s eyes widened, tears shimmering in them as the corps de ballet trooped past.
Grace gritted her teeth at Fayte’s dramatics. Great, now the gossip mongers would go nuts about her mistreating the cousin who’d looked after her. Never mind dancing, Fayte should have gone on the stage. She was a natural.
“Can the tears, Fayte. You were in it for the money and you damn well know it,” Grace snapped, her patience giving out. She grabbed her cousin’s arm and hauled her bodily into one of the empty dressing rooms.
“Now you’re welcome to live with me as long as you like, there’s plenty enough room. All I’m saying is you need to get another job,” she said as the door closed behind them, giving them a modicum of privacy.
Fayte snatched her arm out of Grace’s grip.
“Right. Fine. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can, don’t worry about that. Don’t want to be around with you and your pervert of a boyfriend anyway.” She stormed past Grace to the door. Once there, she threw a look back over her shoulder, malevolence in her eyes. “Just how long do you think you’ll keep him now you’re fit and well? He obviously has a thing for cripples and helpless women. Probably won’t be able to get it up now you can walk. You’ll regret this Grace, I promise.”
Grace jumped as the door slammed, the sheer hatred in her cousin’s eyes shocking her to the core. In a daze she followed, closing the door with a gentle click behind her before walking to her dressing room.
“You ok?” Jaron’s deep voice greeted her as she stepped through the door. She nodded and turned to him, her heart skipping a beat. He was lounging on the couch at the back of her dressing room, legs spread. Impossibly handsome, irresistibly sexy. Irresistible for her, anyway. He seemed to be doing a damn good job of resisting her. He hadn’t touched her since that first night and it was driving her out of her mind.
“Just a run in with Fayte. She wasn’t happy when I told her she had to get a new job. I think… You know I think she tried to threaten me.”
Grace headed behind the screen to change out of her stage costume. She slipped on a fitted blouse and a knee-length skirt. Since starting on Jaron’s treatments and returning to dance she’d regained her confidence in leaps and bounds. She was still a little self-conscious of the scars on her calves. Smoothing thigh-high stockings over her legs, she adjusted the deep lace at the top. Slightly thicker than normal, the opaque nylons hid the marks on her legs nicely.
“Threaten you in what way?”
“I’m not sure; it was weird.” Grace laughed a little uneasily as she stepped from behind the screen and headed over to the mirror. Her hands moved automatically as she started to remove the heavy make-up she wore on stage. There had been something about the look in Fayte’s eyes that bothered her, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. Whatever it was, it made a shiver crawl up her spine, and a niggle of worry settled at the base of her skull, hammering away like a woodpecker.
“She’s harmless.” Jaron’s voice was distracted.
Grace flicked a glance at him over her shoulder. He was watching her from the darkness; she could feel his eyes on her, wandering over body. Her heart faltered again, then slammed against her breastbone as manic butterflies took up residence in the pit of her stomach.
“Are you ok?” she asked, swiping at her face with a lotion-loaded cotton ball until her skin was clear. Something to keep her hands busy. She dropped the dirty ball into the waste bin, glancing away from the mirror for a moment. Before she could take another breath, his hands clamped down on her shoulders.
“Jaron.” She squeaked in shock, her gaze shooting to his in the mirror. The dangerous expression on his face made her voice trail off. How the hell had he moved so fast?
His thumbs stroked across the skin of her captive shoulders, skin that felt far more sensitive than a second ago. Her whole body came alive at his touch. Slowly he bent down, his gaze never leaving hers as he pressed a kiss into the side of her neck.
A dark thrill shot through Grace at the sudden change in his manner. Commanding, sure of himself. Dominant. There was something about Jaron that said he knew exactly where the line was. And now he'd decided to cross it.
She bit her lip, still watching him as he straightened up. His hand slid up over her shoulder, across the top to curl around her neck. She suppressed a shiver as his fingers fanned out, tilting her chin up.
“Grace, do you remember what I said the day after I gave you the first vial?” His voice was low, a mere whisper in her ear as he pulled her against him. Her back met the hard planes of his chest as his other hand spread over her stomach. He pulled her hips back against his, letting her feel the hard, swollen shaft of his erection pressing into her. She gasped, heat spreading like wildfire through her body. She'd been worried he didn't find her attractive, but the rigid erection against her ass said otherwise.
“Uh-huh. I think... I don't re—” She shook her head. It was impossible to think when he looked at her like that. As though she were a delectable morsel on a buffet he wanted to sample—over and over again.
The warmth of his hand over her stomach burned though her clothes and made its way inward, through to her womb. Her hips jerked instinctively, pushing back against his hard cock. She stifled a moan. She needed more, needed to feel him thrusting inside her as he filled her completely.
“You don’t remember?” His lips quirked as he rotated his hips. His eyes darkened another notch, as though he'd heard her thoughts, felt her need as clearly as if she'd spoken aloud.
A flush covered her cheeks. She rarely even admit to herself what she wanted, what she truly craved, so how the hell was she supposed to tell someone else? It wasn’t the sort of request you could just drop into polite conversation, was it? That you wanted to be held down, or tied up…wanted to give up control to someone else and be screwed insensible. Forced to live out your wildest fan
tasies.
His fingers moved on her throat. Strong, powerful fingers. How had she ever thought him weak, a playboy with nothing better to do with his time than lounge about and look good? Held against him, she could feel the strength in his body, the latent power. Something deep inside told her he could snap her like a twig if he wanted to. Far from scaring her, that knowledge burned though her veins straight to her loins. Her pussy clenched.
His eyes blazed in the mirror. “I said there would be a price, Grace.”
Memory and realisation jostled for space. He had, she remembered now. At the time, she’d told him she’d give anything, but she’d assumed he wanted money. Not payment of a different kind.
“Uh-huh,” was all she could manage as he kissed along the curve of her neck again. He paused for a moment, running his lips against her, back and forth over her skin. Not a kiss, not precisely. Almost as though he was—was he smelling her? A deep breath filled the chest behind her and he shivered, his eyes fluttering closed. When they snapped open again a second later, the blue was almost swallowed by the darkness. Something else looked out of Jaron’s eyes. Something that both scared and thrilled her.
“You said anything.”
“Uh-huh.” Christ, couldn’t she say anything more intelligent? Her senses and her responses had gone AWOL as he held her in front of the mirror. His hands were firm, allowing no escape, not that she planned any.
“Do you know what I want, Grace?” His voice was temptation itself, beautiful and terrible at the same time.
“Wh-what do you want?” There. Finally, a response other than ‘uh-huh’.
“You said anything.”
He seemed to be waiting for a response, or an agreement. Grace gave a mental shrug. What could she say? She had promised, had agreed to pay the price, whatever the cost. Apparently, the time had come to pay up.
Bollocks, Grace. Admit it; you’re hoping he wants sex. You want him to follow up on that sexy look, on that hard-on you can feel.
“Yes...”
“I want you, Grace. That’s my ‘anything’.”
Chapter Five
Hearing the words, seeing the expression on his face as he stared at her in the mirror, made Grace pause. She wanted him; desire swirled in her veins until there was no room for anything else.
She swallowed, needing to play this game more than she needed her next breath. “Just sex? Nothing kinky?”
He smiled a slow, sexy smile that stopped her heart in her chest. “Maybe. But nothing you won’t agree to. Nothing painful or degrading, I promise. Trust me, Grace. You’ll be safe, I swear.”
“And if I refuse?”
He misread her hesitation, his face growing hard. “Your call, Grace. I can leave tonight and you’ll never see me again...”
He didn’t say the words but Grace knew what he meant. The treatments would stop. Her cheeks burned as she dropped her gaze. Her decision had been made weeks ago. All she’d been waiting for was the smallest sign he might be interested. His fingers stroked her throat, a reminder. Maybe. He’d answered maybe to anything kinky. Perhaps...
Her gaze lifted to his. Perhaps he wouldn’t be adverse to her most secret desires. The strange need inside her she’d always hidden. The need to be dominated, held down and loved completely.
“Not adverse at all,” he whispered, as though she’d spoken aloud.
Or read my mind. She pushed the weird thought out of her head as he spoke again.
“I’m going to kiss every part of your body. Touch, caress, lick you until you come and then I’ll hold you down. Pin you under me as I take you. Love you until you come screaming my name.” He nipped her ear as color rose in her cheeks.
He spun her around. The force of his eyes, the heat in them, burned her as he looked down at her. His hand fanned out and cupped her nape to hold her in place.
“Oh God, yes, please.” She lifted her hands, curving them around his neck to draw him down so she could kiss him.
His lips took hers, warm and firm. Two feather-light brushes that made her mouth tingle. She arched against him, silently demanding more. He moved, his arms tightening around her as he gathered her closer and deepened the kiss. A harsh, passionate kiss as his tongue swept out to demand entrance. Demand her surrender.
A surrender Grace was happy to give. Her fingers curled into the short hair at the nape of his neck as she yielded to him. Her knees turned to jelly as his tongue thrust into her mouth, twining along hers, mimicking the possession she knew, hoped and prayed, was to come.
He broke away to kiss her jaw. One large hand smoothed along her leg, hooking behind the knee to hitch it over his hip. Grace whimpered as the hardness at his groin, still confined by the fabric of his pants, pressed against her feminine core. He rolled his hips again, only a few layers of cloth between them stopping him from doing what they both wanted and thrusting into her.
Grace bit her lip, worry and arousal battling in her chest. Someone could walk in at any moment and catch them like this. Find them almost having sex up against her mirror. Despite the fact they were both clothed there was no question what was going on.
“I want you.” His lips explored the curve of her throat and found the spot under her ear that made her squirm. “I’m going to make you scream with pleasure as I fuck you.”
Her pussy ached with need. A moan escaped her as he pressed into her, the scent of aftershave and pure, warm man making her heady with desire.
His hands moulded her body feverishly, pulling at the hem of her skirt so he could smooth his palms over her thighs. His lips blazed a trail down her throat and she dropped her head back to allow him better access.
Her scent drifted up to Jaron. He could smell her arousal mingled with her perfume and the scent of her skin. Sheer ambrosia. The temptation to shove her skirt up around her waist and bury his cock in her luscious pussy nearly got the better of him.
He drove his hands into her hair, scattering pins with abandon. With devastating finesse he deepened the kiss, holding her head in his hands to plunder her lips as he pinned her against the counter, her back against the mirror. Her blood hummed under her skin, so close he could almost taste it.
He growled, the beast inside too close to the surface to be totally denied. “God, you smell fantastic,” he murmured against her skin, his hands sliding along her thigh. He hooked his fingers into the lace of her panties, pulling them down inch by inch. The lace reached mid-thigh and stopped. Grace opened her eyes in confusion.
“I’m going to strip you and fuck your brains out.” He yanked on the panties again. The scrap of fabric slid to the floor. Locked in his embrace Grace couldn’t look away from his heated gaze.
“But first, I’m going to taste you.” He pulled her skirt up as he sank to his knees in front of her, urging her up onto the slight ledge in front of the mirror.
Is he going to—? Oh god, he is…
Hard hands supported her as he opened her thighs until her legs were spread wide. She moaned as her pussy was exposed, the cooler air in the room whispering over the heated flesh.
“Perfect.”
Grace didn’t get time to reply to his comment before he leaned in, his tongue stabbing deep into her pussy without warning. She cried out as her body melted. She must be literally dripping by now, needing him to fuck her. Embarrassed at her body’s reaction, she tried to squirm away, convinced he couldn’t find her pleasant. His hands clamped over her hips.
“No, I’m not done with you yet,” he whispered, the hot puff of his breath against her clit almost driving her out of her mind. “I’ve not even started yet.”
His tongue slid along her folds from slit to clit, his fingers parting her wider. Grace collapsed back against the cool mirror as his clever tongue danced over the sensitive nub of flesh. He circled and licked, flicking it with his tongue and sliding back down to thrust into her needy body until she was ready to scream. But he didn’t let her come. Every time she approached her release, he moved away from her clit. Dee
p rumbles of appreciation sounded in his chest as he dropped back to deliver long, slow strokes with his tongue, letting her calm down and drop away from the peak.
“Jaron, please. I can’t take much more,” she muttered after the third or fourth time, her body pulled tighter than a violin string. She’d lost track of everything apart from the need to come.
Without warning he stood up, pulling her to her feet and whirling her around. He bent her over, scattering her cosmetics to the floor.
“You can and you will, sweetheart.” He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head on the cool glass, holding them there with one hand. His chest pressed against her back. She squeaked in surprise at the sudden change.
“You wanted to be taken, Grace. Forced, owned. So that’s what you’re going to get,” he said, pressing his stiff cock hard against her ass.
“By the end of the night, I’ll have taken you every way possible and you’ll be begging me not to stop.” He taunted as he started to strip her. His hand reached around to the front of her shirt, curling into the neckline and pulling. Buttons tore and popped, scattering over the carpeted floor. A chill rushed over her exposed skin and her breasts tightened in her black lace bra.
“By the time I’m done you’ll be begging me to fuck you...”
Her nipples peaked, pressing against the fabric, desperate for his touch. He didn’t keep her waiting long; his large hand cupped her, fondling her through the thin material. Whimpering, she arched her back to press harder into his hands, the words he was whispering in her ear sending fire racing through her veins.
“You’ll be begging for my cock in your tight little pussy.” Fireworks exploded behind her eyes as he rolled one hard nipple between his fingers.
His hand moved down her body, and his fingers slid between the wet folds of her sex. He drove two fingers deep inside her and she moaned. Wet heat gushed around his fingers as she clamped down. She moved her hips, seeking the release he kept denying her, but he was already sliding from her. His fingers blazed a damp trail across her hip and over her butt cheek.