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Poking the Vamp (online version complete)

Page 12

by Celia Kyle


  His balls were hard and tight against his body, just waiting for the chance to explode and fill her with his cum.

  But first, he had to wait to be inside her.

  Just as quickly as the kiss began, it ended, and he swallowed his whimper.

  Knight Protectors did not whimper. Ever.

  “Joce,” she rasped. “Don’t you know I love you too?”

  “No,” he shook his head, unwilling to believe her words. Not after the pain he’d caused. “I—”

  “Showed me what it’s like to love. No one is perfect. No relationship is perfect.” She gave him another soft kiss. “But you and me together? That’s perfect.”

  Before he realized her intent, she lifted her hips, stealing her intimate heat. But not for long. No, her pussy returned, but instead of merely caressing him, she enveloped him. She slid down his shaft, her slick walls stroking his full length as she continued to accept his cock. Her sheath hugged every bulging vein, giving him a firm squeeze once her hips met his once more.

  “This right here? It’s perfect.” The truth lurked in her multi-colored eyes, the unflinching certainty that she… loved him.

  “Perfect?” he murmured and she nodded. “No, not quite perfect.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  “Because you’re not moving, chéri.” He encouraged her to lift her hips and then lower once more. He shuddered from the pleasure the move sent jolting through his body. “Now we’ll find perfection… together.”

  Perfection together? She’d find it before him if he kept tormenting her with the slow glide of his thick cock within her throbbing pussy. God, throbbing didn’t begin to describe it. Spasming. Clenching. Desperate. All of the above and then some.

  Joce had done that to her, his words, his sexy body, and his seductive eyes.

  He loved her.

  Her.

  Somewhere along the way between sewing him up at the hospital and nearly dying in his arms, they’d fallen in love.

  Because she loved him too. So, so much.

  Pleasure slithered through her body, tingles of burgeoning ecstasy taking hold with every rise and fall. She rolled her hips when their bodies met, rubbing her clit on his pubic bone, taking that extra snippet of pleasure from their connection.

  Then she repeated the movement, a gradual rise, a slow fall, a tiny swivel. It wasn’t a hurried pace, a rush to the finish line, but a slow, sensuous seduction.

  He stroked her, cool hands sliding over her heated flesh. He petted her back, fingers tracing the line of her spine until he reached the top of her ass. There he delved between her cheeks, teasing her forbidden flesh.

  That soft touch made her arousal spiral higher, added a hint of darkness to their growing passion and sent a spear of joy down her spine.

  “Joce,” she whimpered and trembled.

  “My beautiful fire. How you burn for me,” he murmured in response, those taunting digits still tracing the line of her ass.

  Kate simply whined and then moaned, snatching every bit of pleasure from him that she could, absorbing every snippet and letting it fill her from head to toe. It was glorious. The tremors and bolts of ecstasy burned, but it was so different than the heat of the sun. It scorched her nerves with the bliss, setting her soul alight with the sensations.

  Her clit pulsed with each meeting of their hips, body reacting to the caress.

  “That’s it, chéri. Burn,” he urged her and she was powerless against his demand.

  She gradually increased her pace, Joce’s firm hands guiding her movements as she slid up and down his firm shaft. He pulsed and throbbed within her sheath, twitching and swelling to press against her innermost walls. His veined cock stroked her intimate nerve endings, the head of his dick rubbing over that delicious bundle of nerves deep within her.

  Soon he lifted his hips to meet hers as she drew him inside her, the tip of his length nudging her G-spot with each entrance and exit.

  His free hand wandered to her breast, his large palm cupping her fullness and then he captured her hardened nipple between forefinger and thumb. He tugged the nub and a soft gasp left her lips as the hint of pain shot to her clit.

  “Joce,” she breathed. He repeated the motion, drawing another soft exhalation. “Joce.” This time the pinch was hard and unrelenting, the shock of pain slamming through her veins and her pussy reacted, tightening around his dick. “Joce.”

  “That’s it, chéri.” He rubbed the abused bit of flesh gently, brushing off the sting.

  Kate trembled, the combination of his voice and lingering ache sliding along her nerves. She rolled her hips in an undulating wave, changing the angle of penetration and adding pleasure to the growing bubble of ecstasy slowly consuming her. It was a seductive ebb and flow of bliss, rising and falling in time with the shift of her muscles.

  “God, s’good, Joce.”

  “Ride my cock, chéri. Take what you need. Give yourself to me.” He urged her, his fingers tracing her naughty crease while the other returned to tormenting her breast.

  “Always. Everything.” At her breathy words, his eyes blazed red, glowing in the cottage’s dim interior.

  Joce leaned forward, mouth slightly parted and she closed the distance between them, desperate to have her lips on his. It started as a soft kiss, one of gentle exploration. Their tongues carefully tangled, sliding and tasting in time with the shift and slide of her hips. She teased him in that delicious rhythm, taunting them both in an echo of their bodies.

  She flicked his fangs with her tongue, first one and then the other. On the third graze she pricked herself, letting a hint of her blood wash over his taste buds. The move had the reaction she’d anticipated. Joce’s grip tightened and his movements transformed from sensuous to rough and sharp.

  He pulled her down roughly and then urged her to rise before yanking her down once more. Their hips slammed together, the slosh and splash of water joining the sounds of their heavy breathing.

  Their tongues tangled, Joce slicing his own on her fang and she suckled the nubile muscle, drawing his sweet blood into her mouth. The seductive flavors filled her, sliding over her tongue and down her throat. Her stomach clenched and her mouth watered, body thirsty for his blood, for his very essence. She wanted all of him, everything he had to give and more.

  Joce ripped his mouth from hers and nuzzled her neck, rough cheek scraping the long column of her throat. Then his fangs came out to play, the sharp edge scraping her vulnerable flesh. Kate whimpered and moaned with the small sting, reveling in the painful sensation and the way it amplified her burgeoning pleasure.

  Burgeoning? It nearly overflowed. It nearly consumed her and drowned her in the sensations.

  He licked a long line from her collarbone to just beneath her ear. “Katherine.”

  She whimpered, the deep rumble going straight to her clit. “Joce.”

  “Will you come for me?”

  She shook, muscles clenching, pussy milking his thick cock. He had no idea how close she was to coming right then. It wouldn’t take much to shove her over the edge, to send her spiraling high with bliss.

  She nodded, unable to speak. She was close. So very close. She knew it wouldn’t take much more for her to shatter in his arms, to break into a million pieces. She hoped he’d catch her when she fell.

  No, she knew he would.

  “Then come for me, chéri. Come on my cock.”

  Kate was powerless against his seductive voice, against the low murmur and soft demand.

  But she had a request of her own. “Drink from me.”

  A rush of heat consumed them both in a rolling wave and then those fangs were poised at her vein once more, the tips scraping a hint harder than before. “With pleasure, if you do the same.”

  “Yes.”

  As if he could stop her.

  Her pace increased, the glide of her body up and down his length quickening until she found herself perched on the edge, riding the thin line between burgeoning pleasure and utter ecstasy
. She lingered there, waiting to be pushed into the abyss of joy and then…

  Then he struck. Joce sank his fangs deep into her throat, sending a rough shard of pain and on its heels came pleasure.

  Pure. Unadulterated. Pleasure.

  The only thing that could make it better was the taste of his blood on her tongue. So that’s what she did in return, she opened her mouth wide and sank her fangs into his flesh, giving a giant pull once her mouth latched.

  Then her world centered on those three points: her shoulder, his shoulder, and his cock deep inside her pussy.

  She rolled through the sensations, the overwhelming strength of her orgasm and the pure bliss of his sweet blood on her tongue. She moaned as it filled her mouth, sinking into her body in rhythmic waves that mimicked the meeting of their bodies.

  The pleasure grew and grew, continuing to drive her release on and on. She trembled beneath the weight of the bliss, her muscles shaking and body no longer her own as the pure passion overtook her very being.

  With every suck, it resurged, drawing out the pleasure until it bordered on pain and it didn’t end until a soft whimper escaped her lips. The quiet sound drifted from her mouth and then their lust ebbed, lessening as Joce slowed his drinking.

  Kate mirrored him, gentling her mouth and then finally withdrawing her fangs. A soft swipe of her tongue had the wound sealing and then she rested her cheek on his shoulder, still panting from the strength of her orgasm.

  Trembles continued to wrack her body, catching her off guard as a remnant of bliss slithered through her. Joce’s cock, still thick and heavy, remained firm inside her even though he’d come deep within her sheath.

  He stroked her back, hands soft as he gently caressed her and her passion lessened further, lowering from desperate need to languid awareness.

  “Joce,” she whispered his name. “That was…”

  “Perfection.”

  Yes, perfection. The two of them together—fire and vampire—could be nothing but perfection.

  “Are you sure?” She grinned against his neck. “Maybe we need to try it again. We might not have gotten it right that time.”

  Joce grasped her hips, large hands bracketing her waist. “Perhaps you’re right. I think we have a few more hours to practice.” He nuzzled her neck. “Let’s go explore a little… perhaps the angle wasn’t right…”

  Three hours later, Joce found himself back in the mansion, Kate at his side, as they padded through the home. They’d made love, explored the cottage grounds, and then made love some more. Each moment calmed his fire further, the natural sun and purity in the area allowing her to settle her fiery nature. Her skin buzzed with tingling warmth now, the surroundings nudging some of her calm away, but it was nothing like what she’d experienced before venturing outside.

  Which allowed him to relax. At least a little. He still worried for her, concerned that whatever happened would change her forever, would break his fire until he was left alone once more.

  He wasn’t sure he could live without her.

  Joce didn’t slow when they got to the protector library, home of the round table. Normally no one but protectors were included in meetings, but Tory changed all the rules by “crashing the party,” as she called it. At the time, he’d been annoyed by her actions. Now he appreciated that she’d laid the groundwork.

  Because he wasn’t going anywhere without Kate ever again.

  He took two steps into the room and stuttered to a stop, his fire crashing into his back. Griffin had his fire, Wren, on his lap. Liam cradled Victoria. Joce’s seat nearby was empty and waiting for him, but there was an extra chair at the round table.

  For the witch.

  The witch who helped Jemshir and Galla. Once his immediate concern over the two women ebbed, fury at the witch had grown exponentially.

  “What are you doing here?” He turned his glare on the vampire at her side. “What is she doing here?”

  Warin glared back. “Don’t speak of her like that.”

  “She nearly had my fire kidnapped.”

  “She—”

  “She nearly had my fire killed.”

  Anger suffused the other vamp’s features.

  “Sit down, Joce,” Carac snapped.

  “She shouldn’t be anywhere near this room.”

  “Sit. Down.” Carac’s order whipped across his flesh. His blood tingled, muscles attempting to follow his sovereign’s compulsion.

  “She should be banished from the manse like any other traitor,” he growled and Kate gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

  “Joce…” she whispered.

  “No. She granted Galla access to that cell. Laila brought her in and her subterfuge nearly took you from me.” He ignored the witch’s tears.

  “Protector, cease,” Carac shouted, but Joce remained in place, brushing off the vamp’s power with a roll of his shoulders.

  Carac continued to snarl and growl, but Joce only had eyes—and anger—for Laila.

  Then a hand encircled his bicep, the grip firm as whoever touched him forced him to turn. “What game do you play?”

  Confusion had him furrowing his brow. “I apologize, Sovereign. I—”

  Carac shook him and Katherine growled. That could not end well.

  Then the vampire stared at him, those eyes intent. “You did not do it intentionally.”

  “Do what?”

  “Resist me. Defy me.”

  “I apolo—”

  “No,” he shook his head. “My compulsion did not work.”

  “Oh, shit,” Victoria gasped. “Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.”

  When Carac did not correct the young half-vamp, he realized the sovereign was just as stunned over…

  “What?”

  “You resisted his compulsion. I mean, what did it feel like?” Tory rose and placed her hands on the table, leaning forward as if to hear them better.

  Had he resisted? Yes. Yes, each time since binding himself to Kate, it’d been a conscious choice to listen or not. It’d been a choice.

  “Like water,” Katherine answered. “Like a current urging you to go one way, but still giving you a choice.”

  “I had to work a little to defy him, but it didn’t hurt,” Joce agreed.

  Carac remained silent a moment and then two before sighing. “This is why they were hidden from us. This is why their existence was erased.”

  “Why what?” Katherine sounded confused, but the truth emerged in Joce’s mind.

  “Politics, fear, hid fires from us.” Joce’s mind finally wrapped the concept around him and the implications were staggering. “If we found our fire, we could resist the masters, the elders, any of them. Our allegiance would no longer be to our sires…”

  “But to your fire.” Carac’s voice was grim. “I am overjoyed you found her.” He grimaced. “It just makes things more difficult, more dangerous.”

  “I don’t understand.” Katherine squeezed his hand and he explained.

  “The men—some of them—who hid the truth about fires from the race are still alive. Somewhere, anyway. They didn’t want your existence known then. I doubt they want the knowledge spread now.”

  “What are we gonna do?”

  “We do what we were charged to do by our original king. Protect and defend. From within and without.” Carac’s voice was firm, his words a declaration and a promise. “Now, please,” he drawled. “Bring your fire and come sit. There are other items to discuss.”

  Joce kinda liked not having to listen. But the ability to brush off orders didn’t change his respect and dedication to both Carac and the protectors. With a gentle tug, he led Kate to his position around the table, settling in the chair before bringing her to rest on his lap. His entire body pulsed with warmth as her happiness at being with him filled her. He reveled in her emotions, the sense of wellbeing that came from her along with the joy.

  He absently listened to the meeting as it began. Tory recapped the recent events, explaining what she’d discovered
.

  Or rather, hadn’t discovered.

  “There’s nothing,” she said. “Literally nothing about vampires merging with other species.” Victoria shook her head. “I mean, I definitely didn’t find anything when I went hunting for info about daevas, but elementals are secretive. They just… are. I found more about witches,” she gave Laila a side eye, “than I did about them. And witches are a secretive bunch.”

  Laila grimaced and nodded in agreement.

  “So what do I do now?” His fire trembled.

  “You try not to suck the life force out of everyone?” Simond drawled.

  “Damn, that’s what I planned for tomorrow.” Katherine’s voice was equally bland.

  “Lailani,” Carac ignored them both, “what do the witches think?”

  “Lailani?” Kate whispered to him.

  “He refuses to use nicknames,” he murmured back.

  Huh.

  “Witches no longer concern themselves with vampires beyond payment for tasks,” the young witch’s voice was nearly inaudible.

  “I… see.” Carac sighed and leaned back. “And they do not care that their race will be eliminated by the One?”

  Lailani nibbled her lower lip and squeezed her eyes shut. “They feel humans do not care for the earth and the protectors care for and protect them. The protectors, all of them, are on their own.”

  Tension thrummed through the sovereign, his muscles flexing, and he sensed his leader’s growing anger. It increased in strength, ticking higher with each passing second. Yet, as quickly as it flew high, it released and settled to resigned frustration. “Very well. We will do our best to protect them when the time comes.”

  The elder vamp’s gaze traveled over their motley crew, some vamps clutching females, others alone, but all with the same goal—defeat the One.

  “What do we do in the meantime?” Kate voiced the same question that filled him.

  “We fight. We pray. We hunt the king of kings. We explore your gifts and we search for answers within these walls.”

 

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