Honeymoon Bite (Golden Vampires of Tuscany)

by Sharon Hamilton

  “This is nice, very nice. I know some places where you will be showered with lovelies in every color. But I like you best like this.” He released the clasp of the bra and black silk fell to the ground.

  The captain spoke, signaling they were about to take off. The steward had left a chilled bottle on the table in its holder and two poured glasses of the ruby colored drink beside it. Marcus handed one to Anne, then took a seat in the recliner, holding his glass and motioning her to join him. Topless, she sat, leaning her back into his chest as he strapped them in with one long seatbelt, securing them for takeoff. She turned slightly to lay her head against his chest.

  “A toast?” he asked. “I am parched.” With their arms entwined, the two flutes touched with a ring. “To us, may we love forever.”

  “Yes, Marcus. To us forever.”

  The bubbles made her nose feel itchy, and she rubbed it. The sensation of drinking something other than blood was odd. But she had to admit it was pleasant.

  “Do we get drunk?”

  “Not really. Takes an awful lot of alcohol. We usually get sick before we can get drunk. We are immune to most the effects of alcohol, but we can enjoy the taste. I’m actually going to make some very good wine.”

  After they were airborne, he unhooked them and brought the bottle over for a refill. “I’ve always wanted to do this. Indulge me, okay?”

  He held the flute up to Anne’s breast and pressed it against her nipple to wet it with the red mixture. Her nipples hardened from the cold liquid, but glistened and quivered. He put his mouth over the nipple and sucked the champagne from her body. Anne felt the place between her legs gush.

  “Shall I do the other one?” He kissed her, searching for her tongue and pinning it down with his own.

  “Yes,” she moaned into his mouth. “Please.”

  He dipped her other breast into his flute, spilling some on her pants. He feigned horror. “Oh, my, you have soiled your pants. You must remove them. Jason will wash them for you.” He slipped his fingers along the waistband, unhooked the clasp at the front, and pulled down the zipper one bit at a time, kissing her, wiping her lips with his tongue.

  Anne was about ready to pass out. Marcus was the best kisser she had ever known. He was skilled in the art of seduction, doing things she didn’t even know existed. She was grateful for his experience, for she would be his last lover.

  She stood and let him remove her jeans. There she was, in the black thong with just enough lace to drive him crazy.

  “Ah, I like this view very much,” he said. He knelt in front of her, kissing her through her panties.

  “Marcus, I have always wanted to do something. Indulge me, okay?”

  He smiled at her imitation of his play.

  She bid him to stand. Then she kneeled and undid his trousers, slipping the zipper down his front, kissing the opening. She smoothed his pants down his legs to his ankles, then prodded him to step out of them. She removed his silk boxers. His erection was throbbing, lurching with each little touch of the back of her hand, her fingers, or her hair. She gripped him in one hand and held her champagne flute in the other, holding it up to him.

  “More.” He reached for the bottle and emptied the contents into her glass. She guided his cock to the flute, and with delicate fingers, dipped him in the cool red bubbly. He jumped at the cold. Anne’s eyes were fixated on his velvet shaft. She wet her lips, set her glass down, and covered his head with her mouth, sucking the champagne from him.

  “Mmm. This tastes just wonderful. You taste so good.” Marcus was almost overcome. She stroked him, massaging his scrotum with her hands, sometimes kissing and sucking. He slammed his hips upward, thrusting his cock deep into her hungry mouth. The tip of one of her fangs nicked him and she tasted just a drop of him as his bulbous head shoved past. At last he came into her mouth, filling her. She shuddered as she took every drop.

  He took her hand and led her to the bathroom, then drew bath water. He held her the full length of him, his cock still hard, pressing against her lower belly.

  “How many times can you do this? You don’t get soft? Ever?”

  “Not with you, pet. I’ve never had my fated female. Nothing else compares, my love.”

  He slipped off her thong with one long forefinger, which then found the hot spot between her legs. God she wanted him there, but his finger would have to do for now. He picked her up and set her on the granite vanity surface, her back flat against the mirror, raising her knees to over his shoulders. He stroked her now with two fingers.

  “I want your cock inside me, Marcus. Please. Please, can I have it?” She felt him inhale. She almost thought he would ram himself into her at that moment, but he moaned and sank to his knees. He spoke the ancient words. Anne could feel the insides of her body vibrate to the rhythm of his voice. He played her like an instrument. Every part of her sang. She felt the long smooth orgasm send radiations of pleasure all the way to her fingertips.

  “Ah, my pet,” he said into her ear as he raised and kissed her. “I want to so bad, so bad. Help me be strong. We mustn’t.”

  “Why? You said so yourself we are fated.”

  “It would be unfair of me. I have to ask permission.”

  Anne frowned at him. “Permission? You need to have permission to have sex?” That was about the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.

  Chapter 15

  Laurel cut fresh flowers from her garden, then wrapped them in newspaper after tying them together with a rubber band. She placed the bouquets on top of an envelope addressed to Paolo, her oldest brother. It would be good to see him. It had been almost seven years. She missed his warm, gentle ways. He always maintained contact with her, in secret. None of the other family members, his two other sisters and three other brothers, had anything to do with him, not even Marcus. But she was able to pass on to Paolo family news. His own news stayed with her alone.

  She heard his light tap on the front door of the villa. She eagerly ran to the door, pulled it open, and was greeted with a blast of warm sunshine and Paolo’s big grin, full of startlingly white teeth.

  “Paolo.” She whispered into his shoulder as he hugged her fiercely. “I have missed you so much.” He smelled of the woods, his favorite place to be.

  “Yes, my favorite sister, I have missed you, as well.”

  “Can you stay awhile? Marcus comes, and he brings his fated female. He will be here tonight.”

  “Maya?”

  “No, her name is Anne. She was mortal when he met her, but he knew right away.”

  “She is no longer mortal?”

  “No.” Laurel felt her face fall. She looked down to avoid eye contact.

  “I see,” Paolo whispered. Laurel looked up to his thoughtful frown and ushered him in.

  How can I explain things? Everything has changed since Marcus met Anne. Laurel fixed her hair, bringing the fine strands that had escaped the tortoise shell clip she wore at the back of her neck back under control. It felt like wiping the cobwebs of doubt from her mind.

  Paolo stepped into the hallway, then stopped, scanning the carved ceiling covered in gold leaf. Laurel remembered the balls they had attended here, first as children and then later when her brothers were eligible bachelors. She had watched the beautifully gowned ladies her brothers courted. One by one, each of them had found their fated females. Except for Marcus and Paolo. Two of her other sisters had married over a hundred years ago. Their children were now having great grandchildren. Almost two centuries had passed before Paolo declared he’d had enough. It broke her heart that he left their family to seek his own way, to live among mortals. He never had children, but she knew he had married. Three times.

  “How is your wife?”

  “She is fading, but free from pain at least. This one is living longer. She’s seventy now, but still as beautiful as the day I met her.”

  “You are a good husband to her, I just know it.”

  “The best. She is my third, you know. This is the
painful time for me.” Paolo had lost both his other wives when they were young.

  “Perhaps you will find your fated female in our kind, then you won’t have to go through the heartache again.”

  “No. That won’t be. I don’t believe in the fate. Look at the mess it’s made for Marcus and yourself.”

  “I am patient. Mine will come, and I shall wait for him. Perhaps he is yet human and hasn’t undergone the change. In the meantime, I have my bachelor brother I must tend to. Come, I have something for you.” She took his hand and led him into the kitchen. She handed him the flowers and then the envelope. He smelled the bouquet while dropping a kiss on the top of her head. Then he went to the thick envelope.

  “What’s this?”

  “A surprise. Open it.”

  He broke the seal and his eager fingers flushed out several old pieces of paper. They were letters. Paolo looked up at Laurel, a question in his eye.

  “Father wrote these about his choice to stay mortal,” she said. “I thought you would enjoy them. I found a whole trunk full of many of his writings. I had no idea he had written so much. He had opinions about everything.”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “He saw in you a big part of himself. You should read what he wrote, Paolo. In the end, he wished he had chosen differently. But Mother would not be swayed, so he chose to stay with her.”

  Their parents had lived as mortals, something their kind could choose. Upon puberty, they were given a choice, to remain mortal, or become a golden vampire. The Monteleones had both held off the decision until they were sure, something they encouraged all their seven children to do as well. The parents chose to remain mortal and passed on almost two centuries ago. All seven of their children elected to become vampire when the choice came to them; they were so affected by the devastating loss of their parents after they died within one year of each other.

  But Paolo had regretted his decision, almost from the day he had turned, Laurel recalled. He had fought it and had been tormented ever since. Finally, he’d had to leave.

  He’d returned for a visit, requested by his mortal wife who wanted him to consider reconciliation with the family at the wedding of his younger brother’s granddaughter. And then he’d abruptly left again. It had been at a particularly difficult time in his “mortal” fantasy life.

  Her nephew Lucius entered the ballroom. He came to Laurel’s side and leaned into her, holding her skirts.

  “Don’t be shy, Lucius. This is my oldest brother, Paolo.” The boy’s eyes were round and large. He had the dark features Marcus had, the unmistakable sensual Monteleone nose and lips. Even his hairline was like all three of the brothers, with a slight widow’s peak at the center.

  “Maya and Marcus have agreed to let him stay with us for a spell so he can become acquainted with the family, in case—”Laurel stopped, sharing a conspiratorial stare with her brother.

  “In case of what, Auntie?” Lucius asked. Even though Marcus had not openly admitted the child was his, Laurel allowed Lucius to call her Auntie. And she loved it.

  “In case your mother has to leave for extended periods of time.” Laurel sighed and looked again into Paolo’s knowing eyes.

  Lucius stepped forward and extended his hand to Paolo. He had been trained well. Laurel was proud of him.

  “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  Paolo squatted and looked at the boy. Their eyes were at the same height. He shook his hand. “Nice to meet you too, Lucius.” Though Lauren had told her brother about the boy, this was the first time Lucius and Paolo had met. He touched the boy’s cheek. Lucius pulled away. Lucius didn’t appear comfortable with being touched. Especially by a stranger. Family or not.

  Paolo chuckled and stood. He mussed the top of the boy’s head and then left him alone.

  Laurel studied her brother. “He’s a wonderful child. Very smart.” Lucius scrunched up his nose upon hearing this. “Good with numbers. He’s already gone through all the books I have up to the seventh grade and he is only six.”

  “Six point two-five.”

  “See what I mean?” Laurel laughed. Paolo nodded, smiling. “He reads practically day and night, don’t you?”

  “I’ve read the Twilight series four times,” Lucius said with pride.

  Paolo tented his eyebrows and whistled. “Impressive, young man.”

  The youngster basked in the admiring light between Laurel and Paolo.

  “We were just going to do some gardening,” Laurel said. “Later I have to run him over to his grandmother’s house. Why don’t you two go pick some apples? You could take some home to your wife, Paulo. She would love them.” The Monteleones gave away most of the fruit they raised, since they had no need. It gave them some good will with the community. Laurel baked berry pies for Lucius every week. It was his favorite food, other than ice cream.

  “Show Paolo the orchard, and the berry patch.” She knelt before him and poked him in the chest with her forefinger. “Sweet pea, try not to get berry stains on your shirt, okay?”

  She touched his cheek. “Your beautiful skin we can wipe off, but the shirt could get ruined.”

  Lucius took the initiative and shyly grabbed Paolo’s hand, then pulled him across the terrazzo floor to the back. Laurel watched her brother run in little steps with the boy, bending down to make himself shorter. They were instantly in conversation, but never out of earshot.

  Paolo occasionally looked at Laurel, who waved back at him as she continued to work in the garden. She probably heard all of Lucius’s questions. Paolo thought he did a fairly good job of answering them. The two had put up a ladder, and Lucius was at the top, Paolo holding onto him.

  “You don’t have to hold me, you know. I won’t break, and I never fall.” Paolo was struck by the boy’s confidence. He realized perhaps he was being a little too protective.

  “Alright. But I know your mother, and if anything happens to you, well, let’s just say my life in this universe would cease.”

  “Yeah, she’s like that.” The boy laughed. “How well do you know my mother?”

  “Oh, we all grew up together. But she always had her eyes on Marcus. She only danced with me to make him jealous.”

  “Did it work?”

  “I can’t even remember. It was a long time ago.” Paolo sighed and looked Laurel, who stood up and massaged her lower back, then looked their way.

  “Paolo, can I ask you a question?”

  “That’s a very grown up way to say it. Good job, young man.”

  “Marcus told me to ask permission before I ask something someone may not want to answer.”

  Paulo stood still, searching the boy’s face as Lucius poured apples from the basket he had made with his shirt into the bucket Paolo held.

  “Okay, shoot. What is it you want to know?” Paolo leaned in and whispered so Laurel would have a harder time hearing him. “You’re too young to have the sex talk.”

  Lucius burst out laughing so hard he almost fell off the ladder. “Sex, sex, sex, everyone’s always talking about sex, whatever that means.”

  Paolo thought how grown up Lucius was. Old and comfortable in his body, at his age. He wished he had some of the inner peace this little-six-year-old had.

  “Exactly, my man. People make too much of it. Way too much. Lucius, my friend, we’ve just found the first point of agreement between us.”

  “Yes, gentlemen should find more agreement than disagreement.”

  This sounded just like Marcus. His brother had done well influencing this young lad, Paolo thought. Just when he thought he’d been able to avoid a query he wouldn’t be able to field, Lucius remembered his question.

  “Is Marcus my father?”

  “Ah, why do you ask that? What has he told you?”

  “My mother’s told me he is. But he never calls me his son. If he were my father, wouldn’t he want to do that?”

  Paolo was suddenly heartbroken for the boy. This must be a very trying situation for Marcus, being such a respon
sible person. And he felt the little heart beating in the six-year-old’s chest, still a mortal, still trying to figure out his life and where he stood. It touched Paolo. The pain was identical to what he experienced as a mortal child, not knowing where he belonged in the scheme of things. The sense of not belonging only increased after he chose to become vampire, wishing he had made a different decision.

  Paolo also knew Maya would use Lucius for her own ends, and this made him angry. She was not a proper mother. He hoped Marcus would just claim him and take him away from her, for the boy’s sake. But until that day, Maya would use this boy as her pawn in a giant chess game. Not vampire. Must be witch. Her whole family was a thorn in their side, all of them.

  “Lucius, I would trust what Marcus tells you. I would believe him. I presume you’ve asked.”

  “I’m afraid to.”

  “Afraid? Why?” Paolo took a few more apples from the boy’s small hands.

  “I want him to be my father. I really do. He says he loves me. But I’m afraid he’s not my real father.” Paolo could not help but melt when he saw the lone brave tear fall down the boy’s red puffy cheek. He grabbed Lucius off the ladder, almost scaring him, then held him close for several minutes as the child’s little feet dangling off the ground. The boy struggled at first, then buried his head in Paolo’s shoulder and sobbed.

  Paolo drove Lucius over to his grandmother’s house. He felt better about leaving Lucius with his mother’s family after learning Maya was in America, chasing after Marcus. She wasn’t expected back any time soon. The shared arrangement meant Lucius was to spend half the time with each family. But now there was talk of sending him to California to live with his mother and be closer to Marcus, who now spent all his time there. Laurel gave Paolo strict instructions not to mention Marcus coming to Italy.

  Paolo enjoyed the time he spent with Lucius. They had picked berries, and a warm pie was setting in a box in the back seat floor, something Lucius would have all to himself, as all others in the household had no need, being that they were all vampires.