Blood Secret

by Sharon Page

She approached him cautiously. With his cheek resting on the smooth leather of the bench, he grinned. “I want you to lie like this, my dear. I would like to massage you.”

  “I cannot lie anywhere like that. I am wearing my stays.”

  His relaxed laugh rolled over her. He sat up, swinging his long legs over the bench, and crooked his finger. She couldn’t help but stare at his wobbling penis. The head of it glistened in a way that made her blush. Trails of a silvery fluid dribbled from a tiny opening in the acorn-shaped head.

  Lifting her hem, she walked to him. Holding her hips, he made her turn, then he swiftly undid the fastenings of her dress. He moved with more expert speed than her maid, and had her undressed to her stays and shift in no time at all.

  He drew down her garters and her filmy stockings. Then he pushed up the lace-trimmed hem of her shift and kissed her inner thighs.

  “Goodness! That tickles,” she gasped. She half-turned and saw his smile. Locks of his golden hair shielded his face, but there was no doubt he was grinning gently at her.

  He couldn’t blame her for his nephew’s disappearance—how could he continue to smile at her if he did?

  Unlacing her stays, he drew them down. Balancing her hands on his shoulders, she stepped out of her stockings, then her stays. And he whisked her shift off.

  She swallowed hard as her breasts bounced and her naked body was displayed, mere inches from his face. She had been intimate with him but she still felt shy.

  “You are very beautiful,” he murmured. He leaned forward, flashing a much naughtier smile and he buried his face in the fullness of her breasts.

  Beautiful was something Lucy did not feel. She felt awkwardly naked. She didn’t know how to stand, where she should put her hands, or if she should touch him. She rested her knee on the bench while he played with her breasts, but she felt unbalanced and awkward and slid her foot back to the ground.

  Suddenly, he settled his hands on her waist and lifted her off the ground. He traded places with her so quickly she barely had time to register what had happened. Then he was easing her down, turning her to lie on her stomach.

  His hands coasted over her back, firmly but carefully stroking and rubbing her. He massaged her muscles.

  Closing her eyes—it felt easier to experience this with eyes shut—she gave a murmur of pleasure.

  His fingers kneaded their way down her back. Each stroke made her relax more.

  Suddenly Greystone lifted her bottom. Something slightly scratchy brushed against her cheeks—it was the thick hair at his crotch. His penis stroked her private place, and she was so wet, the taut head immediately slid in. She turned her head and saw him. He was balanced on the bench on his knees, and her bottom was lifted up in the air.

  He thrust into her, in long, slow strokes, his penis driving deep. His hips bumped against her bottom with each thrust. He spread her legs wide, holding her with his hands to open her for him. It was rather erotic. She clung to the bench and focused on the way her bottom jiggled when his pubis hit her. She felt the sway of her breasts. Her nipples were hard and long.

  Heat washed over her. She was panting, working toward her pleasure, sucking in breaths.

  “Let me play with you here, Lady Lucy.”

  His fingers came around her hip and plied between her nether lips. He stroked her clit, and she gasped in shock. The orgasm slammed into her almost instantly.

  She shook with it. Her body was so hot ... she was melting.. . .

  Heavens, her muscles were jerking and jolting. She was changing.

  She tried to pull away, but he held her to him. He had plunged deep and was gripping her, so she would ride through her climax on him.

  She had to escape. But he was too strong and he would not let her go.

  Panic made her desperate. “Please. You must let me go. I need to ... I must go to the retiring room. Please!”

  His hand stroked slowly down her back. “It is all right, my dear. I know what is happening to you. I know what you are.”

  She blinked. Dazed from lovemaking and panic, shaking from the strain of trying to resist the change, she wasn’t certain she had heard correctly. “What do you mean?”

  “You are a dragon. I know that. I know your family are dragons.”

  She tried again to scurry away from him, but he held her too tightly. How could he know? Jack must have told him. But she could not allow him to know. She had to make him believe it was not true. “I’m not a dragon. I am a female. I mean, I am human. A properly brought up lady. Whatever you were told about dragons, I can assure you it was not true. How could it be? That is the stuff of fairy tales—”

  She broke off. How could he have believed it so easily? How could he say it so calmly now? Why would anyone accept such a mad and preposterous story?

  Greystone tipped his hips back, letting his erection slide free. For a moment she had the hope she could flee, but he pulled her back, drawing her onto his lap. “That’s what you are trying to force yourself to be. You are trying to fight your dragon nature.”

  She bolted up from his lap and landed on the floor. Her breasts jiggled but she didn’t care that she was naked now. She wrapped her arms around herself. “It is not true. There is no such thing as people who turn into dragons. Of course it is impossible for a woman to be both a lady and a dragon.”

  “That is exactly what you believe, isn’t it?”

  How gently he spoke.

  “But you are both, aren’t you, Lady Lucy? You are both a responsible lady and a fiery dragon. And the reason I know what you are is because I am not merely a duke. I am a vampire.”

  A vampire—could it be possible? She reared back. She knew of vampires—they were undead creatures, not immortal shifters like dragons were. Vampires tended to keep together, just as dragons did, and witches did, and demons. She had been told there were peers of the realm who were really vampires.

  “It’s all right, my dear. I won’t hurt you. I don’t intend to drink your blood.”

  “You don’t?” She hugged herself. “Are you sure? Is this why you lured me here?” If he attacked her, she would have to shift shape and fight him as a dragon. A vampire would be far too strong for her otherwise—

  Suddenly she realized she had controlled her shift into dragon form. It hadn’t happened. When he had told her he was a vampire, she had forgotten what was happening to her body. And somehow that had helped her control the change.

  He regarded her with amusement, which she found preposterous at this moment—when they were discussing drinking her blood.

  “With you, love,” he growled, “I would prefer to feed on sex.”

  She frowned. “That’s not possible. Is it?”

  He grinned. “For me, it is. And you, my beautiful Lady Lucy, promise to be a sumptuous feast.” Then he sobered, his eyes serious but still mirror-like. She now knew why his eyes glittered so much—it was because he was one of the undead.

  “You are stunningly beautiful, love,” he said. “Don’t try to hide what you are. Being a dragon gives you incredible power.” His smile dazzled her again.

  “But,” she said, warily, “I am not certain if it gives me enough power to subdue a hungry vampire.”

  With eyes twinkling, he murmured, “What would make you feel safe with me?”

  She swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”

  “You could tie me up.”

  She jolted. “Tie you up?”

  “Mmm. Bind my hands together or tie me to the bench. Would that make you feel comfortable? I give you my word that I won’t hurt you, but I understand, love, why you might be scared.”

  Would it make her feel more at ease? She was not sure. But he appeared to be so excited by the idea. Flushing, she nodded.

  “All right, my dear. Let me teach you how to tie me up.”

  She had no idea it would prove so arousing to tie the duke’s wrists together.

  Lucy squirmed on the bench, very wet, very aroused, and quite pleased with her handiwork. Lo
oping the ropes around his wrists, she had tied his hands together in front of him, then, following his instructions, she had crisscrossed the ropes, wrapping layer after layer, until he was well and truly captured.

  He teasingly batted his eyelashes at her. “I wish I could touch you—stroke your silken cheek, push back your unruly curls, stroke your lush, beautiful mouth—but unfortunately I’m a little tied up right now.”

  It made her smile. It banished nerves and doubt. She didn’t care that he was a vampire. How could she, when he accepted she was a dragon?

  He wiggled his bound hands and flashed a grin. “Come up here, my love, and sit on my face. Even though my hands are bound, I can use my tongue to pleasure you.”

  A hot flush touched her cheeks. But to her surprise, as she stepped over the bench, and carefully walked until her quim was over his face, he winked. “A few more inches. Then lower down so I may kiss you.”

  Strange how she listened to his commands. She couldn’t quite figure out what the duke wanted, and it made her willing to play his game. Heavens, it made her hungry to play his game. Her breath came fast, her heart raced, her legs trembled.

  She lowered and the duke licked a place behind her quim—a bridge of flesh that made her moan helplessly. His tongue darted to the entrance of her bottom and lightly stroked.

  Stars exploded before her eyes.

  He dropped back. “Do you know, my love, how sensitive your bottom is?” he asked hoarsely. “You have the most lush and beautiful arse I’ve ever seen. I would love to give you an orgasm by pleasuring it.”

  “Pleasuring my bottom? What do you mean?”

  “Lie on your stomach, my dear, and I will show you.”

  Slowly she did, but she stiffened as he approached. Why would he not answer questions and demand she trust him?

  Something warm and wet stroked over the curve of her bottom, gently following, tickling her skin. Gasping, she glanced back, over her shoulder. Through the screen of her hair, she saw he had bent to her rump. He had licked the cheek of her bottom. Now, puckering, he planted a kiss on the plumpness of her right cheek. It jiggled.

  “You are beautiful, love. So generous.” He rained kisses over her curves, kisses that tickled, that made her giggle. Then he caressed her with his tongue, roving the wet tip over sensitive flesh.

  Apparently a woman’s bottom could be pleasured.

  Greystone lifted his head. “That was just the beginning, Lady Lucy. If you say yes, there is more pleasure to be had.”

  She swallowed hard once more. And whispered, “Yes.”

  “Good. What I intend to do involves some sexual toys.”

  6

  Wanton

  The duke was lying on his back on the leather bench, and he held a long ivory rod in his teeth. The “sexual toy” as he called it was preventing him from speaking now, but he had made his request very clear.

  He had told her to slowly, gently, carefully take the rod up inside her rump. Gently, he had caressed her bottom with oils. His finger had slightly invaded her. The pressure had shocked her at first, making her toes curl and her fists clutch into tight balls. But he had coaxed her to let him continue, to relax and accept the slow thrusts of his finger.

  She’d had no idea she was so sensitive there. It was even better than his kisses.

  But this ...

  Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, she straddled his hips, her legs on either side of the bench. The first touch of the entrance of her bottom to the rod made her squeak. It did feel good. She lowered a little—

  Then quickly stood upright. That particular invasion had hurt.

  “Slowly,” he said, around the toy held in his mouth.

  She blushed. She could not quite believe he wanted her to put her bottom down on his face, but he had seemed to be very enthusiastic about the idea. Taking his advice, she tried again, bending her knees to go just a bit further, to take a tiny bit more inside.

  This time it didn’t shock her and make her tense. She rose and thrust down again. Panting, moaning, she worked on him. Slick from the oil, her bottom took the long rod in easily. She kept her eyes closed, though, embarrassed by what she was doing.

  She moaned. Oh, it was good.

  Then he shifted, releasing the rod with his mouth. It was up inside her, the end sticking out a few inches. And she was blushing fiercely.

  “Take my cock inside your rump, too, Lucy,” the duke said huskily.

  She blinked. “Two things ... inside me?”

  “Yes, love. You’re a dragon at heart. Fiery, feisty, and you can indulge in pleasures that most gently bred ladies cannot.”

  She should say no. But she was aroused. Wet and aching with need, and she wanted to be filled. To bursting—goodness, the idea was so exciting. But he was big, too, and she wasn’t sure ...

  She ached so much, she was so tense and shaky with lust, she had to try. Her bottom felt aroused and ready, and she wanted to push her limits, her boundaries. Maybe it truly was the dragon inside her, wanting a pleasure that would make her burst into flames.

  “God, angel, yes.” He growled. “Take me inside you,” he rasped. Then he gave a raw laugh. “Would you move the mirror, love? Turn it to reflect us, so we can both watch.”

  In front of the cheval mirror, she frowned. Her naked rear was positioned in front of the looking glass. The beautiful ivory rod stuck out between her cheeks. She held it, and slowly lowered on the duke—but she was too unsure to take two in the same place. She slid him into her quim instead.

  But she could see what she looked like when she was riding him. It looked so erotic, her knees almost crumpled.

  She pulled back, then thrust deeper. Her bottom tingled with pleasure, her quim ached, and she wanted more. Wanted it deeper. Moaning, she worked furiously, thrusting the rod and his erection in further and further and the duke groaned with every stroke.

  She was very well stuffed—so much so, her feet tingled. The duke was right. She was a dragon and she liked this.

  “God, they are both all the way inside you, love. Right to the hilt. You are the most amazing lover I’ve ever had.”

  He was watching them in the mirror, too. His eyes glittered at her—vampire eyes, but eyes that snapped with desire. She’d never had a man look at her like this. As though she was the most delectable woman in the world.

  Outside, the lights of the street gleamed, and there came the cacophony of clattering wheels, trotting hooves, the shouts of coachmen. The street would be packed with carriages, with outriders with torches, all the bustle of a busy Mayfair street.

  “Christ,” he muttered. “You are so amazingly tight.”

  She breathed hard, trembling. “I am not hurting you, am I?”

  “No, my dear. I’m indestructible.”

  His words set her on fire. Made her wild and bold. She felt as strong and wild as she did when she became a dragon.

  A grin twitched his lips. “Ride me, my dear.”

  She did.

  “God, I can’t hold it back,” Greystone growled. Then his hips arched up, driving his cock inside to the hilt. She squealed as the thick rod and his huge size filled her completely, pushed deep. Her fingers curled. It was so good. But she didn’t climax.

  The duke did. His head arched back, and he howled in pleasure. Then he slumped back on the bench. “Lady Lucy, come here. Turn. Kneel on my chest.”

  She hesitated, but he chuckled harshly. “I can support you, love.”

  As Lucy daintily got into place, he grasped her hips and drew her forward. The duke held the rod in her bottom and began moving it in long slow strokes. He took it all the way out, then pushed it forward so it made a luscious pop going inside. Then he flicked his tongue over her clit. He suckled her and thrust the rod in her bottom.

  In seconds, an orgasm screamed through her. She cried out and he slid his fingers inside her pulsing cunny. She felt her walls squeeze him.

  God, she’d never felt anything like this. She was writhing wildly, and s
creaming so terribly loud—

  Then everything went black.

  When Lucy dazedly opened her eyes, she was lying on the duke’s chest, and his arms were wrapped around her. He must have eased the rod from her rump, for she didn’t feel it. He kissed the top of her head and smoothed her hair. “There, love. Do you feel all right?”

  “I feel wonderful,” she breathed. She should get up. She must. But her feet were twitching a bit, her legs were weak, and she felt overwhelmed with sensation.

  Oh goodness, what had she just done?

  All sorts of astonishing, erotic, wonderful things.

  The duke turned her into something quite different than the well-bred lady she was trying to be. He transformed her into a wanton creature.

  She had tried so hard to keep the dragon inside her captured within her tightly laced corset. But for the first time, she wondered if she would be better to let it out a little more often. Not actually change shape, but become wilder and stronger, more sensual, more aggressive, the way she was when she was a dragon.

  Sinjin smiled. Lady Lucy gazed at him sleepily. He cupped her cheek, and used the contact to try to look inside her thoughts. Had she been lying? Did she know where his nephew was? Did she know what his nephew was? To his astonishment, thoughts slammed into his mind. The messages were snippets of swift thoughts and he fought to grasp them.

  Something quite different than the well-bred lady I am trying to be, she thought. He transformed me into a wanton creature.. . .

  Let it out more often... .

  Jack, what have you done this time ... how could you hide while we were so worried about you ... please, let me find you safe and sound... .

  Will the duke really take me to Jack ... I want to trust him ... but am I a fool?

  He knew that vampires could trade thoughts with other preternatural beings, but only when both parties were willing to send their thoughts.

  “We will go and fetch your brother very soon.” He said the words softly, the way a mesmerist tried to push his will into another’s mind. And he sent more thoughts back to her. Was there a boy your father spoke about? Did your father ever tell you about a boy named James?