by Lynsay Sands
"Russell and Francis pulled over at once when we were forced off the road," Dante continued. "Apparently shots were exchanged and then the kidnappers must have decided not to risk themselves. The van pulled away and Russell and Francis gave chase, but we were only miles from town. Russell and Francis had to slow down once they reached the more populated area to avoid harming innocent mortals. The van, however, did not and they lost them. Russell and Francis then came back for us."
"I see," Mary murmured, accepting the fork he handed her. She managed to wait until he'd reclaimed his seat, then dug in. Literally. She was suddenly starving, her stomach churning with it, so she started with some sort of pasta dish that was quite nice, then halfway through it, picked up a chicken leg and began to alternately gnaw on that and scoop pasta into her mouth until she realized that Dante was watching her with amusement. Realizing what a disgusting picture she must make, she set down the fork as well as the chicken leg and reached for the glass of water he pushed toward her.
Mary took a sip of the cool water, then set it down and asked, "Is it the nanos that are making me this hungry? Am I always going to be wolfing down food? And if I am, how the hell are the nanos going to keep me at my peak condition?"
Dante chuckled and shook his head. "You will not always be this hungry. No doubt this is a result of a combination of the turn and not eating for four days. As for the nanos keeping you at your peak, they will. It is as simple as that. You can eat all day and night and they will keep you at your peak. They will also use a great deal of blood to do it, however, which means you would have to consume more of it."
"Oh." Mary had picked up her fork again, but now lowered it to the table and glanced down at her new hands worriedly. She hadn't considered that part of the deal. It was awesome and lovely to look and feel young and strong again, but he had turned her to do it. She would have to feed . . . on blood. Mary wasn't sure she could do that. She didn't even like rare steak. The blood turned her off.
"Eat Mary, you can worry about everything else later," Dante said gently.
She hesitated, but then gave in and picked up her fork again. Her stomach was still churning with hunger, and she hadn't eaten for four days. She reminded herself of that and then decided that starving herself would probably mean taking in extra blood too.
Once Mary started to eat again, Dante picked up his own fork to continue eating. They were both silent for a bit, and then Mary said, "Everything smells so . . . much," she ended finally, because she couldn't think of another way to put it. The good smells still smelled good, but were stronger, and it was the same for bad smells. Mary had never cared for blue cheese, the smell had always bothered her, and there was a very small, thin slice of it on a steak on a plate in the center of the table, probably more as a garnish than anything, but it smelled to her like there was a pound of blue cheese under her nose.
It was just one of the scents assaulting her, though. Mary could smell everything as if it were concentrated and set directly under her nose . . . including Dante. He had a deep, almost smoky scent combined with a higher note that was slightly coppery. It was quite wonderful, and to her, smelled more delicious than any of the food on the table.
"I did tell you that the nanos improved skills and senses," Dante reminded her softly.
"You said they improved speed, strength, eyesight and hearing," she countered. "You did not mention smell."
"Ah." He shrugged. "I was born immortal, so have never experienced the difference myself. I can only tell you what I was told by others," he pointed out. "I suspect the truth is the nanos improve pretty much everything."
"Hmm," Mary murmured and turned back to her food. After a moment, however, she jerked her eyes to him again and said, "This means I won't need my glasses anymore, doesn't it?"
Dante's eyebrows rose. "You wore glasses?"
"Oh." She flushed, and dropped her gaze. "I only needed them for reading. I never needed them when I was younger. I had better than twenty-twenty vision then. It was only as I got older that I started having trouble with reading and such."
"I see. Well, you will not need glasses anymore," he said softly, and then grinned and added, "Although that might be a shame. I suspect you were sexy in glasses."
Mary laughed at his teasing, but merely shook her head and returned to eating. Between the two of them they finished off everything on the table, and still she was hungry.
Giving a little dissatisfied sigh, Mary set her fork back on her plate and leaned back in her seat, her gaze shifting to Dante. Now that all the food was gone, the smells in the room had been reduced a great deal. The primary smell filling her nose now was Dante, and he did smell delicious.
"Your eyes are glowing," Dante announced quietly after a moment.
"Are they?" Mary asked with disinterest. Then she smiled seductively and stood to walk around to where he sat. Pausing in front of him, she whispered, "I must be feeling passionate then."
Dante stood at once, but rather than take her in his arms as she'd hoped, he moved around her and walked toward the small fridge in the entertainment center, asking, "Are you thirsty? Would you like something to drink?"
Mary scowled at his back. No she didn't want a bloody drink. She wanted him to take her in his arms so that she could lay her head on his shoulder, bury her face in his neck and lick, nuzzle and nip her way along the vein pulsing there and--
"Dear God!" Mary gasped and turned away in horror.
Hearing Dante approaching from behind her, she turned, mouth opening to warn him to stay away. She never got the words out; the moment she turned to warn him, he slapped a bag of blood at her mouth. Mary blinked in surprise, automatically reaching for the bag, but he dumped the other two bags he'd brought with him onto the table and caught her hand with his now free one as he held the bag in place with the other.
"Relax," he instructed. "Your fangs will do all the work."
Mary tried to relax, but it was the oddest sensation. She could feel the cold liquid moving up her fangs. She couldn't feel it after that, but she could feel it in her fangs and she wasn't sure she liked it. In fact, she was quite sure she didn't. It was blood after all. She was consuming blood. She was a vampire. One of those horrid creatures that fed on mortals like a leech, filling its belly on blood from people like her friends, her children and grandchildren.
Mary's eyes widened with horror as it occurred to her to wonder how this would affect her life in more ways than just her looks. How was she to explain this to her children and grandchildren? How was she--?
"Mary," Dante moved closer.
She glanced to him and saw the concern on his face. It seemed pretty obvious that he could see her mounting distress. Sliding one arm around her, he pulled her close, and then tugged the blood bag from her teeth. She waited to be splashed with the red liquid, but wasn't. The bag was already empty, she saw with surprise as he tossed it to the table. Dante then caught her chin in his hand, turned her face back to his, and kissed her.
Mary hesitated, but quickly gave in and kissed him back. She didn't want to think about what she was now and everything it meant. She didn't want to consider the complications, and his kisses seemed a good escape from her thoughts.
The moment she opened her mouth to him, Dante caught her by the bottom and lifted her to sit on the table, pushing the dishes back with her behind as he did. Mary didn't protest, she merely wrapped her arms around him and then her legs and kissed him hungrily. She didn't realize her fangs were still out until she tasted blood in her mouth and realized she'd nicked him.
Moaning, Mary immediately found herself sucking on his tongue, drawing the warm, coppery liquid from the small wound and swallowing it eagerly. Some part of her mind immediately stepped back from her when she did that, horrified that she could enjoy the crimson liquid, and she feared Dante was doing the same when he suddenly broke their kiss, but then she found another bag popped to her fangs. She blinked at him over the bag, worried and grateful all at once, and Dante kissed h
er on the forehead. It was a sweet gentle kiss and made her feel better at once.
When she relaxed against him, Dante took her hand and placed it to the bottom of the bag. Mary automatically grasped it, and the moment she did, Dante grabbed the third bag and placed it in her free hand, then scooped her up off the table and carried her to the bed. Once there, he dropped to his knees, lowering her to sit on the end of the bed as he did. He then sat back on his heels in front of her.
Eyes wide, Mary tipped her head down and watched wide-eyed over the bag of blood as he took one of her feet in hand and lifted her leg so that it was extended. He paused, seeming to examine it, then ran his fingers lightly up the leg he held and murmured, "You have the loveliest most shapely legs. I noticed that when you came out of the bedroom in shorts the morning we breakfasted at the Round Up."
Mary's eyes widened even further. He'd liked her legs even then? When she'd looked her age? The thought startled her, but not as much as Dante did when he suddenly bowed his head and began to nibble his way up the inside of her calf.
Grunting in surprise, Mary dropped the third bag of blood she'd been holding and reached out to try to catch him by the hair and stop him, but he merely caught her hand in his and then continued to kiss his way up to her knee. He then set her foot back on the floor and it wasn't until he moved forward to kneel between her legs that she realized he'd set her foot down so that her legs were spread.
Before she had even fully processed that, Dante was tugging at her towel.
Mary immediately released the bag at her mouth and tried to grab at his hands. Fortunately, there was so little left in the bag at her mouth that it didn't fall away and splash everywhere. Unfortunately, Dante was quicker than her and by the time her hand reached his he'd pulled the sides of the towel apart, exposing her. Mary clutched his wrist anyway and squeezed her eyes closed as she felt a blush rise up over her face. She hadn't been bothered at all at his seeing her when he'd walked up behind her as she'd been examining herself in the bathroom mirror. But then, she hadn't been so exposed then, her legs spread to him. Then too, the body in the mirror hadn't really felt like hers yet in that moment. In truth, it still didn't, but she wasn't looking at a mirror, she was sitting with her legs wide open as Dante--
Her stomach gave a sharp jolt and Mary blinked her eyes open as he pressed a kiss to her stomach. It was such a sweet, tender action . . . and then his hands closed over her breasts and his mouth moved to claim one already erect nipple.
Mary nearly bit right through the dwindling blood bag then. Managing to restrain herself, she eased her grip on it and then moaned around the plastic as he suckled first one nipple, then the other. He was so enthusiastic in his attention that she was surprised when the moment the last drop of blood had been drawn from the bag at her mouth, he was aware of it and reached up to pluck it away and toss it to the floor. Dante immediately wrapped his hand around her neck and drew her forward for a kiss. Mary kissed him eagerly back, one hand covering his where he was still caressing her breast, and the other sliding around his shoulder to pull him closer against her.
Dante let her have her way and, releasing her breast, slid both arms around her, pressing her close and then shifting his chest across hers. Mary moaned and found her legs wrapping themselves around his hips as the soft cloth of his T-shirt brushed across her erect nipples. Hearing, sight, taste, and smell were only four of the senses. Touch was the fifth one, and Mary was quite sure the nanos had improved that too and made her more sensitive. Certainly she had never been set afire by such a light caress. A butterfly's wings probably would have been stronger than that brush of hair, but her body responded eagerly to the caress and her kiss became a little more desperate.
Dante responded by thrusting his tongue into her mouth and urging her back onto the bed until she lay flat with only her legs hanging off from the knees down. He kissed her thoroughly, once, then broke the kiss and slapped the last bag of blood to her fangs before rising up and backing off of her.
This time Mary groaned in disappointment at losing his kiss as well as his touch, but he was not done. She could feel his hips still between her knees, then he began to press kisses to her stomach, blazing a trail down to her hip and nibbling there briefly before moving between her legs.
Mary cried out against the new blood bag, her hips bucking as his mouth found her sweet spot. It was really quite amazing that she didn't split the bag with her hands right then, but she somehow managed to keep from crushing it, all while twisting her head on the bed, her body jumping and trying to move simultaneously away from his caress and into it at the same time. It didn't move anywhere, however. Dante was holding her down with his hands and arms as he worked and Mary was left to tremble helplessly under his ministrations until the bag at her mouth was finally empty and she could tear it away.
Throwing it to the side, Mary promptly sat up then and reached for Dante. The moment her hands touched his shoulders, he lifted his head, then rose up on his knees again. Now able to reach him, Mary immediately began tugging at his shirt, eager to get him as naked as her. Much to her relief, he helped, pulling the T-shirt off over his head the moment she got it free of his jeans. His hands then lowered to the snap of the black jeans he wore, but Mary already had that undone. He however, lowered the zipper and stood to push the heavy cloth down his legs. When he stepped out of them, kicked the jeans aside and turned back to face her, Mary simply stared. She'd seen him naked when they first met, of course, but not really, not fully, just glimpses and peeks before forcing herself to look away, and then she had been full of guilt for doing so. Now Mary took a good long look without that attendant guilt . . . and he was absolutely beautiful.
A small sigh slipping from her lips, she raised her gaze to his face, then shifted and stood up on the end of the bed to wrap her arms around him and kiss him. Dante's arms immediately closed around her in response and he quickly took over the kiss, his hand tangling in her hair and tilting her head to the angle he wanted as his tongue thrust between her lips.
Moaning, Mary accepted his offering, her tongue dueling briefly with his before he broke the kiss in favor of latching on to one of her nipples. While she was five four and shorter than him by a foot and four inches, standing on the bed had placed her breasts at his face level. He took advantage of that now, his hands closing around them and kneading as his mouth closed over first one nipple to tease it with his tongue before suckling, then shifting to the other to do the same.
Groaning, Mary leaned her lower body against him and closed her arms around his head. It was all she could do really; everything on him was out of range except for his head. She bore the attention as long as she could, but it wasn't long before she moaned his name and tugged at his hair.
Releasing her breasts, Dante lifted his head to her kiss again, and then caught her under her legs, urging her to wrap them around him. Once Mary did, Dante let her drop down a bit until her face was lower than his. Now he was the one having to bend his head to continue the kiss, rather than her. It also positioned her so that the core of her rubbed against the top of his penis, pressing it flat against his stomach between them as he shifted to kneel on the end of the bed. When he then moved forward across the bed on his knees, the movement drew a groan from Mary's throat as the friction sent shockwaves of pleasure through her. She was almost sorry when he stopped moving and dropped to sit on his heels with her straddling him.
Almost. Until Dante caught her by the waist and raised and lowered her against him, pleasuring them both with the friction.
"Dante," Mary moaned, tearing her mouth from his. "I need--Ah!" she gasped as this time rather than just rub them against each other, he lifted her high enough for his erection to slide forward, then lowered her onto it.
Mary stared at Dante through wide, incredulous eyes as he filled her. She had been so wrapped up in the pleasure the caresses had given her, that until that moment Mary hadn't realized she was experiencing his pleasure too, but when he filled her .
. . it was like nothing she'd ever experienced and she dug her nails into his shoulders, holding on for dear life as wave after wave of keen need drove through her.
"Dante," she gasped uncertainly, not sure she could handle this, and then he covered her mouth with his and rose up slightly, pressing forward. Mary felt the headboard of the bed at her back, and reached out to hold on to it with her hands in an effort to keep from scratching his back and shoulders to ribbons. Dante immediately raised one hand to the wall behind her to brace himself. His other hand, though, slid down between them to caress her as he began to pound into her.
Mary kissed him furiously as the pleasure grew inside her to unbearable levels. She felt like she would die from it, like her body would just shatter and explode, and then the pleasure inside her seemed to do just that and she broke their kiss to throw her head back on a scream that quickly died as she lost consciousness.
Thirteen
They were in a little heap when Mary woke up some time later. She was still straddling his legs, but was slumped back against the headboard, her arms draped over it and her head back and to the side in a most uncomfortable position. Lifting it with a grimace, she glanced to Dante and then smiled crookedly. He too had apparently lost consciousness as she recalled him saying they would. However, he'd fallen back on the bed, one arm splayed out, the other falling across his chest. His hair lay around his head on the bed like a dark nimbus, and his face . . . it was perfect in repose. He looked even younger than his normal appearance of about twenty-five without the usual worry that had shadowed his face since she'd encountered him.
Mary stared at him silently, slowly becoming aware that she was hungry again. This time she knew better than to assume that it was for food. Dante smelled just too delicious. She found her gaze focusing on the vein pulsing in his neck, sure she could hear the blood rushing through it, and felt saliva fill her mouth one second before she became aware of a sliding sensation in her mouth and felt something poke her bottom lip.
Her fangs had descended, Mary realized. She needed blood.