by Evie Byrne
He stopped and gave her a serious look. The train cars were designed as a trysting place for vamps and their partners.
“There’s nowhere more private than that, is there?” Maddy gave him her best innocent smile. “We can have a toast, just us. A moment of quiet.”
He changed direction. She couldn’t believe he fell for it. The train cars were her favorite part of the club. Inspired by the Orient Express, a string of faux private train cars circled the mezzanine about the ballroom. They were VIP booths, essentially, private rooms for blood play. Each car had a curtained window from which you could look into other car windows, or down over the dance floor. “Riders” could share their activities with the wide world, or pull the tasseled curtains shut.
They were already in use. Maddy could hear voices and moans through the walls as Gregor led her down the narrow, gas-lit corridor that connected the cars. Through a door left ajar she saw a glimpse of a couple intertwined, and her desire flared. One thing she’d realized of late was that feeding without fucking was like eating an Oreo and skipping the cream filling.
When she fed from Gregor, all she wanted to do was straddle him, and take him deep inside. There was something irresistibly compelling about the idea of taking him both ways at once, about being linked at two points. She sighed with frustration, and her breasts swelled up, rising frighteningly close to her chin.
The corset was weird, but definitely a turn on—for both of them, judging by Gregor’s greeting. Already her nipples were hard and tender, tight against the leather cups. As an added benefit, it functioned to secure all her hardware, and that freed her mind.
Oh, please Gregor. Let loose.
The best car was reserved for the house. Gregor pulled a big gold key out of his pocket and showed it to Maddy with a smile. Once inside he locked the door and shut the drapes. The sconces gave off low, golden light. Maddy leaned against the flocked wall-paper, breathing fast and shallow, her knees wobbly with need for him.
“It’s perfect,” she said. “And very…cushiony.” Most of the narrow room consisted of a womb-like day bed covered with tufted red velvet.
He took a crystal decanter off a shelf above a tiny marble sink and poured them two glasses of wine. As he did, she noticed a knot of chain above her head. It was attached to a small winch on the wall. “What’s that?”
Glasses in hand, he followed the direction of her gaze, and swallowed. “It’s a restraining device.”
“For?”
“Some people prefer to feed standing up.”
Maddy raised her arms over her head and crossed her wrists. “Like this?” She batted her lashes at him.
“Here.” He shoved a glass at her. St. Gregor.
“To Elixir,” she said, clinking his glass. The wine warmed her throat, made her lick her lips. Her diet might be limited these days, but somehow everything was extra tasty. “I’m so proud of you.”
“To us,” he said. “And our future.”
She sidled close and slid her hand around the back of his neck. He went stiff, and not in the good way.
“Gregor—”
“Maddy,” he said, warning in his voice.
“Don’t you have first rights to this fine, puffy couch?”
“It’s too soon. Felix said—”
“I don’t give a good goddamn about what Felix said. I’m ready.”
Gregor put down his glass and took her by the shoulders. “Lover, only four weeks ago you died in my arms.”
That surge of real emotion softened him, and he opened his mind to her. It wasn’t that she heard his every thought, it was more like a subtle joining of hands, or an invisible embrace. They were together, and because of it, everything was better. He kissed her on the forehead.
Maddy reached up and loosened his tie. He didn’t stop her, so she began to unbutton his shirt as well. That he made a token gesture against, but she pushed his hand aside. “You asked me to walk into a new life with you.”
She stripped off his shirt and jacket at the same time, and yanked his undershirt over his head, ignoring his grumbling. What she paid more attention to was how fast he breathed and how he swayed on his feet. The man wanted to be seduced. It was not hard to push him down onto the deep, tufted velvet.
He groaned, and she knew it was a groan of resignation. He pulled her on top of him, and she got the kiss she wanted, long and deep.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured as he left her lips to work her throat. With a single click the heavy garnet choker slid off her skin and into the cushions. He nuzzled her bare neck.
Yes. She sunk her hands into his hair and held him tight. Yes, baby, you want to feed. She’d be damned if she didn’t feed him before they left this car.
Gregor skimmed his fingers inside the cups of her corset, found her nipples and teased them up until they poked over the tops. He ran his hands down her cinched waist and over her hips “I didn’t know they made librarians so hot.”
“It’s all for you.” She slid her hands under her breasts and lifted them out of the cups, offering them to his rough tongue and hungry, sucking kisses. Between her legs his erection was growing more insistent, and she circled her hips against it, imagining it inside.
Running his hands up the shiny leather on her thighs, he said, “Just how do I get into these pants of yours?”
Maddy smiled the smile of Eve. No way was he holding back on her once he saw this.
“Zipper,” she said, nipping his lower lip. Turning away from him on her hands and knees, she presented him with her rear. “There’s a tab at the small of my back.”
That was when Gregor realized the zipper that ran all the way from back to front. His throat went bone dry.
Holy Mother of God.
He found the tab and pulled. The black leather slowly parted, revealing her bare, sumptuous ass. That view was enough to last him a lifetime, but he kept pulling, and made another discovery. She’d been waxed.
“So how do you want me, Faustin,” she said over her shoulder. “Like this?” She waggled her ass. “Or like this?” She turned over, leaned back against the padded wall and spread her legs.
A barrage of images—him defiling her in every way possible—broke over his mind. They were her fantasies. All the different ways his filthy-minded wife wanted him.
Gregor couldn’t see straight after that. A fine sweat broke out all over his body. Okay. All right. His original plan of giving her a quiet orgasm wasn’t going to cut it for either of them. Maybe it would be safe enough to do a little more. Just a little more.
He kicked off his trousers and leaned back naked against his own section of upholstery. With one hand he stroked his pulsing cock. Maddy stared at him—stared at it—and licked her lips. She parted her pink flesh for him and stroked herself until her fingers were shining wet.
“Why don’t you come over here?” Gregor said, his heart slamming against his ribs. Somehow he had to control both of them enough for them to have some nice, easy sex.
Obedient, she slithered back over, ran her tongue up his belly, his chest, along his throat, coming at last to his mouth.
“I want you to claim me in the Old Way,” she whispered against his lips.
Uh uh. That was way out of bounds. He growled his disapproval, but could not stop kissing her. Her skin tasted so damn good, the scent of her arousal made him crazy. Gold dust glittered on her cheeks. She was a goddess, and she was his—and her damn leather pants were crotchless. How strong did a man have to be?
“We need to complete the bonding,” she said, her voice low and smoky. “There’s no need to wait any longer.”
“No. Absolutely not.” Felix had said to wait six weeks before he could feed from her or engage in strenuous activities. They had two more weeks to go. And claiming her was different from feeding on her by several orders of magnitude.
“The correct answer is yes, Faustin.”
To shut her up he kissed her, and his mouth ran over with blood. Her blood. Gregor’s e
yes flew open in surprise. He tried to draw away, but she held his head tight, ruthlessly sealing her mouth against his, forcing her blood on him.
It was a trap. She’d cut her lip open with her pearly little incisors. In that moment he realized that she really had become a Faustin.
Nearly choking, he swallowed convulsively. Madelena’s new blood was as smooth and powerful as the finest aged scotch. It was as he remembered her, but so much more. There was no weakness in this woman at all. She could probably wipe the floor with him.
What had their combined blood made her into?
My mate.
The sound of a hammering pulse filled his ears, and everything went red.
He sank his teeth into the high curve of her breast, and let them break the skin. The pain made her cry out, but also gasp in pleasure. A little spurt of blood filled his mouth. He moved to the opposite breast, and made an identical wound, and drank again. And again. Each swallow intoxicated him more. Each bite made her gasp and writhe. He threw her on her back and pinned her down, taking her as he pleased. Again and again he bit and drank, covering her arms with small wounds from wrists to shoulder. Maddy whimpered beneath him, her mouth open, her eyes blind. Need poured off her, raw and hot, fueling his own.
It should have been enough to see her this way, begging beneath him, but his deep instincts demanded more, wanted to see proof that she could not escape. He reached between the cushions of the banquette, drew out one of the coils of satin rope that were stowed there, and lapped it around her joined wrists. Maddy’s eyes widened, but she did not protest. Both of them were playing out an ancient drama.
He tied the end of the rope off at the wall of the booth, stretching her arms over her head.
The words came out of him without thought. They’d been waiting to be spoken all his life. “You belong to me now, body, blood and soul.”
Eyes heavy, she mouthed, “Yes.”
Gregor hooked his arms into the crooks of her knees and thrust into her, sinking himself in a single stroke. Maddy moaned, her body taut, the whites of her eyes visible beneath her lids. There was no quarter here. This was not lovemaking.
He wrapped his arms beneath her and held her throat to his mouth. Staying deep inside her, moving slow, he worked up and down the length of her throat, nipping and sucking, taking more of her heady, powerful blood with each puncture. Madelena was the true elixir, the substance which would sustain him for the rest of his life.
Wrapped around her, buried inside her, his bloodstream suffused with her, even the physical boundaries between them blurred. He thrust faster and faster, bruising his hipbones against the battery belt. Her legs came up around his hips, and her high heels dug into his back. She was straining against the rope, she was crying his name—their thoughts were one, their bodies were one, they were so very close to the edge, bound together, agonized, ecstatic.
Madelena’s breath caught on a high cry, and she went still. He latched onto her throat, closing the circuit, and her orgasm began to flow. Drinking deep, Gregor rode it with her for a few seconds before his own began. Caught in a feedback loop, their climaxes amplified and echoed one another, trapping them in a firestorm of pain, love and pleasure combined.
Gregor held on to sanity by his fingernails, ripped apart by an ejaculation that went on and on like nothing he’d ever experienced. Was it her orgasm?
Shuddering and shaking, Maddy sank her teeth into his neck, jacking into his blood supply. She swept through him. The claiming was mutual. Her cunt contracted over and over, milking him as he gave and gave, gave her everything he had. And all the while, her blood was in his mouth, singing to him about love even while it was killing him.
He lost track of time, of place, there was just this connection, this exquisite, dragging torture, slowly becoming less and less, until there was only them, and they were quiet.
For a long time, neither of them could move. Eventually Gregor untied her wrists. Neither said anything because words seemed intrusive. They just shifted positions so that they were spooning, and Gregor held her close. Maddy’s cheeks were still wet with tears, she didn’t know up or down yet, and she was dizzy with blood loss, but it felt amazing. She was reborn.
They intertwined fingers and she kissed his hand. Or was he kissing her hand? The division between them was very thin. She floated high, flushed with happy chemicals, her consciousness twining and twirling with Gregor’s in a slow, eddying dance.
Bit by bit, the music from the dance floor asserted itself—she hadn’t even noticed it the whole time they’d been together—and they settled back down to earth, and reality, a small room strewn with his clothes and a club that needed tending. They were no longer joined, but they could be again, with just a wish.
Gregor kissed the back of her neck, as he always did when they woke up in the evening. He started to say something, then had to stop to clear his throat. “Is your plug still tight? You okay?”
Maddy slapped his hand off her cord. “Gregor, I swear to God I will beat you—”
“Alright, alright.” He laughed.
Maddy rolled to face him. Despite fucking themselves within an inch of their lives—or rather, because of it––he appeared ten years younger than he had when they came into this room. His eyes were brilliant, his cheeks pink.
“You’re ready to conquer the world.” She brushed his hair out of his face. There was no way she could love him more.
“Done that.” His grin was all too satisfied.
“Now what, then?”
“Enjoying the spoils, I guess.” He kissed her. As gentle as it was, it stung. Her lips were thrashed.
“Settling into domestic bliss, you mean?”
“Mmm, domestic.” He circled his finger around her tender nipple, which was ringed with bite marks, demonstrating his notions of domesticity: bed, snacks, bed, snacks in bed, bed then snacks.
“Does that include wedding plans?”
Gregor scowled. “What do you mean? We’re as married as we’re going to get. That was it, sweetheart. We just did it right.”
“Not according to our moms.”
“Ah, Jesus.” He rolled over and covered his face with his hands.
“Exactly. Jesus wants us married—in a church. Which one is up for debate. To that end, my mother wants to invite your folks over for dinner.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Maddy shook her head. “She wants to know what kind of broth your parents like best.”
“Tell her she doesn’t have to cook at all.” Gregor grinned, showing all of his gleaming teeth. “If she’ll just sit still, my parents will serve themselves.”
He deserved the punch—he really did.
About the Author
Many author biographies claim that the author has been writing stories since she could first wrap her stubby little fingers around a crayon. Not me. All my life, I’ve been an artist. If I picked up a crayon or pencil, I drew a picture with it. Now I'm drawing with words and have never been happier.
Please visit me at www.eviebyrne.com, or send email to [email protected]. I’d love to hear from you!
Look for these titles by Evie Byrne
Now Available:
Called by Blood
Coming Soon:
Damned by Blood
Is she a victim of a madman’s agenda, or a willing player in his demonic games?
Forsaken Talisman
© 2009 Ashleigh Raine
Talisman Bay, Book 2
Kidnapped and mind-wiped by the Shadow Walkers’ greatest nemesis, Skylar has no memories of her own, except for her name. All she knows is what memories she does possess belong to someone else—as does her face—and that she can’t trust anyone, including herself.
Shadow Walker Dusty Clements goes against direct orders to rescue Skylar and take her into hiding. It’s the only way to get to the truth, and keep her out of the hands of an enemy who could use her to wipe out the entire organization. The last complication Dusty
needs is to fall for her.
As Dusty and Skylar work to uncover the secrets of her past, they discover a mystery more than twenty years in the making, and a love they can’t deny.
The enemy has one more trick up his sleeve though—a magical kiss capable of probing the deepest secrets of the mind. All he needs to bring the Shadow Walkers down is to get his lips on Skylar one more time…
Warning, this title contains the following: Sex in an interdimensional cave. Hot men ripping demons apart bare-handed. Liberal use of the f-word as verb, adjective, threat and sexual promise. Oh, and wet and soapy sex in the shower followed by warm bodies sliding between cool sheets—yes, sex in a bed. It’s almost normal!
Enjoy the following excerpt for Forsaken Talisman:
When he set it in the cradle, a slow song started playing. It wasn’t offensive, so Dusty let it roll.
“Is this ok—?” The word got mangled in his throat when he turned to face Skylar. She wasn’t lying in bed anymore, but stood next to it instead. The light from the fire pit in the center of the cave made her skin glow…and made her nightgown damn near see-through again.
Those dirty thoughts about her rocketed to the surface. His cock got so hard so fast it actually hurt. He didn’t want to scare her, far from it. She’d been through enough tonight. Maybe if he stayed a reasonable distance from her until he got himself under control she wouldn’t notice his predicament.
Smiling, she arched up onto her tiptoes and rocked back down, bouncing in place. “Dance with me?”
She said it as though she didn’t have a care in the world, and he almost believed it too. Except right after she spoke the invitation she drew her bottom lip between her teeth and smoothed at her nightgown, before twisting her hands together in front of her.
Innocent temptress. Self-assured one minute, nervous the next. It just made him want her more.
He’d danced with a lot of women tonight, but not a single one of them made him feel like he was more than a stand-in until another better man came along. Even Mariah and Twyla had only danced with him because the person they wanted to be with wasn’t available. Skylar though…