Nectar: DD Prince

by Prince, DD

  She tried to ignore the feelings that stirred in her, “If I was in my right mind I’d never have stopped fighting, I’d fight to the death. And if you won’t let me go then what’s gonna happen to me?

  “We’ll have to wait and see.”

  “Wait for what? For you to get bored with me then kill me?”

  “That’s not likely,” he whispered, “I’ve never had this. Never had anyone like you in my bed.”

  He gently tugged at the bandage and pulled it off her neck and nuzzled the bare skin. She winced; it still hurt. His breathing steadied and he was almost instantly asleep, his arms held her and his nose was buried into the crook of her neck, his lips touching that sore spot. His lips were like a tonic on it, though, and it started to actually feel better.

  Was it part of his plan, to keep working to mesmerize her into a trance so that she’d just let him do whatever he wanted? Was it beginning to work? She was like a walking contradiction struggling with the fact that despite how her head felt her body was relaxed and now that his mouth was against her throat, it didn’t hurt.

  She leaned back to look at him and the pain returned. He nuzzled in again and the pain stopped.

  She fell asleep for a while and when she woke up, her head was on his chest and her hand fanned out across his shoulder. Her throat no longer hurt. He continued to sleep soundly, both arms around her. She looked up at his face.

  What an enigma he was. Monster one minute, affectionate puppy dog the next. She blew her hair out of her eyes and picked up a shirt button from the bed and fiddled with it. He stirred and pulled her closer, if that was even possible.

  If he wasn’t going to let her leave and wasn’t going to kill her, what would she be? A human blood bank? Sex slave? An all he could drink and fuck buffet?

  Shit. Fucking karma.

  He looked like he could be a Calvin Klein underwear model or a movie star or a rock star or a Greek God. Kyla was 5 foot 6 and he towered over her; he had to be 6’2- 6’3”. It was so cozy right now in his embrace and she shouldn’t be feeling this way. She should be plotting her escape while he slept, not gushing over his looks, looks that were undoubtedly designed to be disarming and seductive. She needed to formulate a plan…now, while he slept, before he tried to drain her dry again. She tried to inch away. He tightened his grip, “Uh, uh, uh…”

  Dimples. Shit.

  She choked back a sob, suddenly overcome with the memory of how awful it was earlier when his eyes had gone black and that horrible feeling that had spread through her veins like wildfire.

  He looked at her with remorse, “I’m sorry. Just be here with me. Can you just let me…” he rubbed her shoulders.

  She cut him off but really didn’t know where to start. “I have to think. I just can’t seem to think straight.” She grabbed her temples with her fingertips and the button fell.

  “Same here,” he whispered, “I think I know what’s happening here; you’ve cast some sort of spell on me.”

  She shook her head, “That doesn’t even make sense.”

  He started feathering kisses all over her face again.

  “Stop that,” she pointed at him. He gave her a boyish smile and there were those dimples again.

  “You say that I’m not in a trance but the things I’ve let you…” she stopped.

  “You are lucid.”

  “You keep using your super sex hypnosis and those thousand calorie kisses. I’m not an all-you-can-drink-and-fuck buffet, okay?”

  He started to chuckle and caressed her cheek, “My kinda buffet! Super sex hypnosis? I have never heard of such a power. And what kind of kisses?”

  “Just let me leave,” she pleaded.

  Tristan shook his head, “Not that simple.” He leaned over, looking like he’d been swept away by his thoughts. He absently brushed a button off the bed.

  “Why? You’re afraid I’m going to reveal what you are? I told you I won’t. What can I do to convince you?”

  “There’s something about you. I need to figure it out,” he flicked another button.

  “What do you mean? Because I can’t be put in a trance?”

  “Yeah. And not just that. Something in your blood. It’s different. It’s…”

  She waited for him to finish.

  “And what you do to me…” he nuzzled under her chin and licked the base of her throat.

  Kyla tried to back up, digging her heels into the mattress, but he had a firm hold of her.

  “What do I do to you? Turn you into a vicious animal?”

  He sighed. “Don’t, baby. Don’t fight this time. You want me; I feel it.” He climbed on top of her and parted her legs with his knee.

  Not again.

  “No, no, Tristan. Please.” He groaned. Shit. I said his name! “I don’t want you. I don’t. I need to talk this through, make you understand that you need to let me go. Go find some other girl who will submit for you.”

  He made a primal growling sound and covered her mouth with his and parted her lips with his tongue, deeply kissing her, then said, “I don’t want that. I want this. You. Now. Right now. Feel that? You can feel it, can’t you?”

  “Feel what? No.”

  Of course she could feel it. What was it? Magnets? Her resolve melting? She started to sob into his mouth. His kiss tasted, this time, like an orange Dreamsicle.

  “I won’t feed this time, baby. You need to re-gain strength. Please don’t fight with me this time. Let me have you. I’ll be gentle. I’ll make you feel so good.” His voice was husky, sexy.

  No. Don’t be sexy. Be your cocky asshole self so I can continue to hate your stupid vampire guts.

  Goosebumps rose all over her flesh. He was being all sweet and acting desperate to be intimate with her and have it be mutual but she had to ignore what he was doing to her body and make him let her go. She was all tingly but she didn’t want this. She tried to get up but he pinned her. He was too strong.

  “Please don’t. I’m sore,” she pleaded. She was aching from the sex, especially the punishment sex. She was just…spent. It was like her heart was splintering into her chest. “Please.” This was so confusing. Her body was responding to him but her head told her she must make it stop.

  “Isn’t it the best kind of sore, though, Kyla? I’ll be gentle.” he said but then gave her a wicked smile and grabbed her butt roughly. She groaned out of exasperation and put her hands over her face. She didn’t have the resolve to fight with him when there was a battle going on inside of her already. He started to gently kiss her shoulder and rub her all over with his warm hands. He ran his fingers through her hair and rubbed his hands up and down her torso. Then he lifted her hands off her face, lacing her fingers with his and pinning them above her head, then kissed the bridge of her nose.

  In no time her body was responding to his. He had promised her last night that he was good at this. He certainly was. He let go of one hand and rubbed between her legs, pulling a nipple into his mouth, sucking it slowly, and then he entered her slowly, nibbling on her lower lip, her shoulder, but not breaking the skin, going deeper an inch at the time and watching for her reaction as he did.

  She squeezed her eyes shut tight and tried to fight the urge to respond but before she knew it, her nails were digging into his back, her legs were wrapped tight around his waist, and she was moaning. As she got close to climaxing he breathed heavily into her ear, “Say it.”

  Fuck it. Maybe if I stop fighting he’ll stop wanting me.

  But then nausea swept over her. She didn’t want a repeat of last time, when he went violent after she refused to say his name. She didn’t understand his fascination with it, why saying his name sent him over some unseen edge but she didn’t want to be drained dry due to refusal to say it, either.

  “C’mon baby,” he growled, low, grabbing her face and giving her a sexy burning stare that turned her into putty.

  “I hate you, Tristan,” she whimpered.

  “Yessss,” he hissed, driving into her, eyes bla
zing, “Again. Like you mean it. Then admit to me that you want me to fuck you.”

  She dug her nails into his back and pulled him to her and held on tight and as they both climaxed together she grunted, “Fuck you, Tristan.” Then she was whimpering as she was coming, legs trembling, liquid fire in her veins.

  “Oh wow, baby” he breathed into her ear. “I wanna bite you so hard right now.”

  Why did that sound so hot?

  He flipped her over onto her side and gathered her backside up to his crotch, spooning her. He snuggled close and kissed her shoulder.

  “No cuddling. Off. What are you going to do with me? Why did you take blood from my arm?”

  “So much for basking in the afterglow,” he said, leaning over her, looking surprised, and kissed her shoulder again. He trailed his fingertips from her shoulder down to her hip. Her body felt like jelly.

  He let her go and rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling for what seemed like ages. She sat up, pulled the blankets up to cover her chest and folded her arms across her chest, waiting for him to speak and wanting her body to stop with the aftershocks, the shaking.

  Finally, he tossed the blanket back and got up and walked over to a dresser across the room and poured two glasses of something amber from a decanter and fetched underwear from a drawer. She averted her gaze, trying to ignore the urge to admire his beauty. He walked back over and sat down, passing her a glass and then easing his way into a pair of snug black boxer briefs. It was beginning to get dark. She tried to push away thoughts of how sexy he looked, his tall and muscular profile in the dim of the room with a bit of light coming from the wall of windows, and a set of double doors that opened to that courtyard.

  He took a swig of the liquid and walked over toward the balcony doors. Kyla drank, too. It was a strong whiskey and it burned going down but she relished its warmth. Maybe the numbing effects of alcohol would help her settle her anxiety. He stared out the window. She stared at his back and eyed the muscular detail of his back, his shoulders, his arms, his tight buns. Sex. On. Legs.

  “Now we’re not both naked so do I get clothes, too?”

  He reached into another drawer and pulled out a black t-shirt. He tossed it over to her. She caught it.

  “You haven’t landed in the bed of just any vampire,” he said, “You might say I’m what others would call vampire royalty.” She blew out a long breath, pulled the black cotton tee over her head, wishing it’d been a bra instead. Her boobs hadn’t been left free for this length of time since before her first training bra.

  Royalty? Just my luck.

  “Told you last night it was my birthday,” he said, “We’d already been celebrating. Then I got some good news so two of the guys who work for me went out and found you, brought you as a gift to celebrate my … promotion. They often find someone for me.” He paused, took a swig, and continued, “They stopped at that bar you were working at and you met my preferred specs and that’s why you were brought here. They tried to talk you into leaving with them.”

  She scoffed. A lot of guys made offers as she poured drinks. She never paid much attention to them.

  “You didn’t bite so Joe got a bit overzealous and they decided to grab you.”

  Kyla blew air out of her mouth snidely and shook her head.

  “Then, as you know, you didn’t fall under my direction. That was even more peculiar as I am pretty powerful in the persuasion department. I decided to have some fun. It became a challenge. One I hadn’t realized I’d wanted so much until it happened. It was…” he paused, took a swig from his glass, then added, “refreshing.”

  “Having someone taken? Being given a person as a gift? That’s pretty twisted, don’t you think?” she took another big sip of the drink. It was too big and so it went down rough.

  He was still looking out the window with his back to her and shrugged, “It’s the natural order. It’s what vampires do. Perks of life at the top of the food chain. Do you ask a tree for permission to pluck off a piece of fruit? Do you ask a chicken if you can have some of her eggs?”

  Kyla was stunned at the logic.

  He continued, “At first I thought that you were on something. Some drugs temporarily block persuasion but you weren’t. There was something about you that seemed different. Then when I went down on you…I knew there was something way different. The way you taste. And when I tasted your blood…it was like --- like nothing I’d ever tasted.”

  She was sure she’d turned ninety-nine shades of red.

  “I know what happened this morning has you scared. And I’m sorry about that. I’m always in control; things like that never happen. I’m not used to hearing No and while I typically find it amusing when you say it, this morning… I… didn’t want to hear No. I’m having your blood tested. I need to get to the bottom of this, of why you’re having this effect on me. Shit, I don’t apologize…listen to me,” he shook his head and drank some more.

  “Tested? For what?”

  “We shall see.” He downed the rest of the contents of his glass.

  “What if you let me go now, then when the results…” she started, about to offer some sort of bargain.

  He slammed the glass down. She jumped, startled, “Not happening. And what you pulled today with Joe, that can’t happen again.”

  She got out of bed, happy that the t-shirt was covering her butt, and started to pace. Mr. Romantic was now back to being Mr. Arrogant.

  “I mean it,” he said, “No one gets a taste, even a whiff, of your blood. It’s too dangerous.”

  “No one? You mean no one but you?” She folded her arms across her chest.

  “That’s right,” he said, mirroring her body stance and looking at her as if to challenge her to do something about it.

  “So, I’m supposed to just let you keep, keep doing things… to me?” She couldn’t fight the tears.

  “You don’t seem like you mind so much.” He smirked.

  She let out a frustrated grunt and threaded her fingers through her hair, circling her temples with her palms.

  “Please,” his face changed and he looked serious, “I need to know you’re not going to try to escape again.”

  “And if I do run, what?”

  “You do not want to go there,” he said, glowering at her, “I’m being very generous by asking. I don’t typically ask. I’m giving you a chance to cooperate. Do us both a favour and do things the easy way. For a change.”

  They stared each other down and the tension was palpable. He looked away first, making her feel intensely satisfied. She’d never lost a stare-down yet. To anyone.

  “Why should I do you a favour? And you’re probably going to kill me eventually so I might as well try to escape. Nothing to lose and all…”

  “I have no plans to kill you. I’ll have the tests back soon so make this one thing easy, will ya? Test me and try to get away and I’ll restrain you. You need to stay put while I figure this out. For your own safety.”

  What a prick! What happened to Mr. Sweetheart who just wanted to hold me?

  “Restrain me?”

  “That’s right.”

  “That’s really fucked up. So much for Mister ‘just let me hold you.’”

  “Could be fun,” he ran a finger down her arm, “We could do things the easy way or the hard way. You seem, so far, like you usually pick the hard way.” He added emphasis to the word hard and his eyes twinkled,

  “Back the fuck up,” she growled.

  Tristan laughed, “Such a potty mouth! But you’re adorable. And Mister ‘just let me hold you’ would happily hold you,” he leaned forward, “I’m not usually a snuggler but with you I’ve made an exception.”

  She held her palms up, “Don’t.” But her insides were turning to goo.

  He looked back toward the window and got a faraway look in his eyes. She got hold of her senses and glared at him.

  “It’ll be easier soon, Kyla.”

  “Huh?”

  He didn’t answer.
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  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

  “Never mind,” he let out a sigh.

  Finally, after she was unable to bore a hole into his back with her eyes, she took a deep breath,

  “Is he okay?” she asked.

  “Who?” He spun back around to face her again.

  “Joseph? Joe?”

  A surprised look spread across Tristan’s face, “I didn’t end him, if that’s what you mean. How you managed to knock him out? Beyond me. Maybe the blood tests will help with that little mystery, too. It was a first. He’s lucky that he spoke fast when I got there. When I smelled fresh blood on you I thought…well, he came close to being a dead vampire, let’s just say that.”

  “Uh, aren’t vampires already dead?”

  He snickered, “No, being a vampire isn’t like being a zombie, an undead thing. It’s more like…” he paused, “like being an enhanced human who has more strength and speed, plus some have other talents. Some vamps are stronger than others and some have unique talents or assets. I have more speed, strength, and control than the average vampire. I have a few talents. Some new and emerging ones, in fact. The control thing is important, here. I suspect that your blood in less controlled hands would have pretty dire consequences for you. If Joe had smelled your blood…”

  “Joe did get a whiff my blood. I think that’s how I knocked him out. I caught him off guard with my bleeding finger.”

  Tristan’s eyes widened and then he slammed his fist down on the nightstand and looked furious. Kyla jumped, startled. He took a few deep breaths and rubbed his temples. She thought back to how insatiable his thirst had been when he was angry. Only her pleading and saying his name had brought him back from the verge of, of what? Draining her dry? Ripping her head off?

  “Are you hungry?” he asked, seeming to rein in his temper.

  “No,” she said softly, not looking at him.

  “Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face, Kyla.”

  “Pfff. Don’t bother bringing me more food. Not unless you wanna wear it.”