by Ava McKnight
Lured
Ava McKnight
When Cass’ cyber lover invites her to the hedonistic Hunter’s Moon Ball, she’s thrilled to shed her inhibitions behind the guise of a risqué costume. Yet Cass quickly forgets the man she’s there to meet when she spies the devilishly handsome Marcus, a dark and sinfully sexy vampire who wants to devour her in the most delicious ways.
She loses him in the crowd, and finds herself unwittingly lured into a ritual sacrifice orchestrated by demons. She must fight for her life against beings she never knew existed—until Marcus saves her. Their attraction is undeniable and the passion between them is scorching. Now Cass must decide if she can make the ultimate sacrifice for the only man who has ever satisfied her.
Lured
Ava McKnight
Chapter One
The invitation was an alluring one.
Cass Armstrong logged on to her laptop and launched her email and instant message programs, and there it was in her inbox. An advertisement for the Hunter’s Moon Ball, sent by her online chat buddy, “TaxMan4U”, aka Darien. A suggestion they meet in person?
She’d heard of this happening with online dating services, of course, but that wasn’t what she’d signed up for when she’d gone looking for someone like Darien one late and lonely night. Cass hadn’t been searching for in-person companionship at that point, nor was she interested in using video chat programs—she preferred a measure of anonymity.
Given the hours she put in at the accounting firm where she worked, she didn’t have much free time to date or get overly involved with someone. Nor did she excel in social environments, so the web had appealed to her. Others at her firm had casually mentioned chat rooms over the years and it had taken that long for Cass to gather the nerve to seek one out herself.
The first few interactions online had been overwhelming, what with trying to find a chat room of interest—she’d inevitably selected one for single professionals in Seattle—and then seeing dozens of people with unique usernames all posting comments almost simultaneously. She’d invested quite a bit of effort into learning how to scroll and reply and connect with others out there in cyberspace. Then she’d started communicating regularly with Darien, given their common interest in tax law, and that had led to a request to join him in a private chat room, which had quickly led to, well, cybersex. Which they mostly enjoyed via IM these days.
She’d been shocked, yet titillated, when his casual flirting had turned enticingly lascivious. Cass had never considered herself the type to motivate someone to ping her with an “I want to suck your nipples” kind of message. Then again, one could be sexy and daring when using this particular medium, and she’d let her wild side come out to play, despite it not being her standard demeanor in real life.
That first comment of Darien’s had initially taken her aback. Cass had stared at her laptop screen with a scowl on her face, unsure as to what to do—shut down her computer or…respond. She’d ultimately chosen the latter, the sexually deprived in desperate need of stimulation. Not surprisingly, she’d found it much easier to communicate over the net than in person, and that had spurred her on.
She was a bit ashamed of her wanton online behavior and would never in a million years discuss it with anyone, but it’d become addictive. And Lord how her exchanges with Darien had spiced up her otherwise humdrum existence! So, regardless of how tawdry it seemed by the light of day, she logged on three nights a week to “get it on” with a man she’d never met in person.
Yet now he was hinting at taking their online relationship offline?
Apprehension gripped her at the mere thought of how badly she could botch this good thing she had going. Conversely, as she read the ad for Seattle’s notorious ball, a scintillating thrill shimmied down her spine. She contemplated the hedonistic costume party she’d never dared attend. Truth be told, she’d never considered herself cool enough to even attempt to land a coveted invitation to the underground, though highly speculated about, rave.
“I could do this,” she whispered as excitement raced through her, chasing away her previous anxiety. “I could be the person I’ve been online. For one night, at least.”
While Cass considered what it’d take to pull off this monumental feat, an IM from Darien popped up, asking her what she was wearing. It had been a long day and Cass was mentally exhausted, but charged by the unexpected turn of events with the Hunter’s Moon Ball ad. Her body hummed like a livewire at the prospect of what might lie ahead with Darien in the future, and most definitely over what might transpire this evening. She settled more comfortably into the corner of the sofa where she’d curled up in front of a crackling fire.
With her laptop balanced on the throw pillow she’d placed over knees that were almost drawn to her chest, she began to type.
“Red nightgown. Short hem. Lacy cups.” She whispered the words as her fingertips glided over the keyboard. It seemed more personal when she could hear the dialogue rather than just see it on the screen.
“Mm, nice,” he responded. “I’d like to run my hands over your bare thighs, slide my fingers past that short hem and drag your panties slowly down your legs.”
“Thong,” she typed. “Also red lace.”
“You’re making me hard.”
She smiled as she reached for her glass of wine and took a sip. She hadn’t made up her attire—she really was wearing the red nightie. Sure, she’d lied the first couple of times, when she’d said she was dressed sexily, but instead was drowning in too-big-for-her flannel pajamas. Her interactions with Darien had inspired her to ditch the drab nightwear and now, when she was online with him, she dressed provocatively. Even if he couldn’t see her, it made her feel sultry and sensual.
She wrote, “I’d spread my legs wide so you could settle between them as you lie on top of me.” It’d been entirely too long since she’d felt the weight of a man on her. Missed it sometimes, particularly lately, as her and Darien’s exchanges had heated up and she’d begun to yearn for physical contact.
“Would you wrap your legs around my hips as I thrust my cock into your wet pussy?”
She bit her lower lip as exhilaration shot through her, making her inner walls clench tight at the mere mention of having a hard penis inside her. Christ, it really had been too long since she’d had sex.
“Yes,” she responded.
“Good. I’d want you to hold me tight as I peel away the lace at your breasts and lick and suck your nipples while plunging deep into your pussy, making you scream from the pleasure.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Her clit tingled and those nipples he wanted to attend to puckered as she stared at his words for endless moments.
“Still there?”
She smiled again. “Yes. Just getting the visual. Your hand cupping a breast as your tongue flicks over my nipple, making it tighter. Making it ache to be sucked into your mouth, your teeth gently scraping over the sensitive tip.”
She was getting good at this. Their first few “conversations” had been mostly one-sided, with Darien telling her everything he wanted to do to her and Cass touching herself where he directed her to until she came with the fingers of one hand in her dripping cunt, the other hand scrolling down the screen to keep up with his wicked commands.
“That’s hot, Cass. I’d squeeze your tits while I ram my thick rod into you, fucking you hard as you begged for more.”
He’d “taken” her in myriad ways, but this little fantasy they typed out was especially erotic because she actually did long to feel him on top of her, to feel his body pressed to hers, to have his bare skin and warm breath caressing her quivering flesh. She’d been daydreaming about this exact scenario a lot lately. So maybe she really was ready to meet him in the real world.
Shifting on the sofa and tos
sing aside the pillow, Cass balanced the laptop on the plump cushion on which she sat as her hand skimmed over a breast. She gave the full mound a quick squeeze, pretending it was Darien’s hand on her body. She tweaked the nipple with her finger and thumb, making it harder. Then her hand eased over the red satin covering her stomach. Spreading her legs a bit wider, she touched the apex, slowly stroking herself through the lacy material of her thong.
With her left hand, she carefully typed, “Then what?”
“*wg* You naughty girl.”
“Would you fuck me faster if I wanted it? Thrust harder into me, until I was just about to come?”
“I’d make it last a bit longer.”
She grinned. “Good.”
“I’d come up on my knees and hold your legs wide open while I slid my cock in and out of your cunt. You’d watch as my thick shaft pulled almost all the way out of your pussy, then slammed back in, filling and stretching you. Making you gasp for air and beg me to do it to you again.”
“I would,” she typed as the pads of her fingers covered her clit and stroked the sensitive nub in a quick, circular motion. “I’d want to feel you thrusting deep into me.”
“I’d rub your clit with my thumb as I hammered into you. Making you writhe and moan.”
She did moan. Excitement rippled through her at the mental image she conjured. Darien had told her he had blond hair and a professional appearance, yet for some reason, Cass pictured him differently. The way he corresponded with her and had coaxed her from her shell made her think of a tall, dark, devastatingly handsome man fucking her hard, doing whatever it took to get her off.
“I like it hard and fast,” she wrote.
“I know you do, baby. I’d give it to you.”
She swept aside the lace that covered her and worked a finger into her slick pussy, plunging deep, then stroking her inner walls as her gaze remained locked on the computer screen.
“Can you feel me inside you?”
“Yes.” Though in truth, what she felt was her slender finger that didn’t quite do the trick. She withdrew the appendage and reached for the center drawer of the coffee table.
Extracting a black velvet bag, Cass eyed the large pale-pink dildo she’d discreetly ordered online last week. She’d yet to use it, but tonight called for a little walk on the wild side. Her body was wound tight and the throbbing in her cunt demanded attention. She needed a powerful release. One that would satiate her so she could sleep and be refreshed in the morning for a seven a.m. meeting.
A personal lubricant wasn’t necessary. She was so wet, the toy slid right into her pussy. She let out a sharp breath of air as the dildo filled her.
“Are you close?” The words appeared on the screen.
She settled back into place and, with one hand, pecked out, “I have a new toy.”
“You’re turning me on even more. Are you fucking yourself with it while thinking about me inside you?”
“Yes.”
She pushed the fake penis deeper in, nearly pulled it all the way out, then pushed it in again. Her hips rocked as she picked up the pace. Her pulse accelerated and her breath turned into short, sharp pants.
“Imagine what it would feel like to have my cock inside you. Fucking you harder and faster.”
The tempo between her legs kicked up a notch. The dildo felt good, sparking a fire in her belly. Her tight nipples grazed the lacy cups as her chest rose and fell quickly, her breathing escalating. She could feel the climax swelling inside her as though it was a balloon with too much air filling and expanding it. She felt the pressure, the tension, the need for release. The desperate need for release.
“My hips would jerk forward as I pushed even deeper into your tight pussy. You’d moan and beg me to make you come.”
“Make me come,” she managed to type out.
“Oh yeah, baby. I’d spread your legs wider and fuck you so hard, you’d come all over my cock. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Cass? To come so hard you’d scream my name as your hot cream covered my dick?”
She couldn’t hold back a second longer. His dirty words and the whole risqué nature of what they were doing made her insides blaze bright. The fire roared through her body and the balloon burst, sending erotic sensations shooting in all directions and making her cry out as she came. Her inner walls contracted around the dildo, squeezing tight as she savored every moment of her orgasm.
She hadn’t even realized her body had bowed off the sofa until she collapsed back onto the cushion, making her laptop take a tumble to the floor.
“Oh shit!” She withdrew the toy and reached for her computer. The screen was still lit. New words appeared.
“Did you come?”
She grinned. “Oh yeah,” she typed. “So hard, my laptop fell off the couch.”
“LOL I came too. It was good, Cass. But…”
She stared at the screen, her heart sinking. She hadn’t anticipated a “but” on the horizon. That was never a good thing. Cass had lived through a few too many “I really enjoy your company, but…” scenarios to not automatically be on edge when she heard—or, in this case, saw—that one nasty little word.
A pang of loneliness crept in on her, but she tamped it down. There was no point in giving in to the feeling. It had haunted her the whole of her life and could rule her existence if she allowed it to…which she didn’t.
Yet…what about that invitation he’d sent her?
“What’s up?” she typed when he didn’t continue his thought.
“It’s just that…this is great and all, but…I’d like more than this.”
She stared at the screen, rereading his last comment. Her heart jumped into her throat and a strange sensation she could only peg as hope began to seep through her like cleansing rainwater that washes away all of life’s grit.
Her teeth clamped down on her lower lip as she wrote, “What do you have in mind?” Though she already suspected.
“A party this coming weekend. The Hunter’s Moon Ball—I sent you an invitation. Will you meet me there?”
So she’d been right all along. Cass debated the situation once more. On the one hand, she truly was in need of more personal contact—physical contact, to be exact. But her track record with men was a dismal one. She had difficulty holding a man’s attention for more than an hour at a time, because she inevitably began rambling about work and tax laws and the stock market. Making her a romantic buzzkill right off the bat.
“Check your email,” he instructed. “I forwarded the ad to you earlier and just sent over a VIP e-ticket. It’s a costume party. Send me an email telling me what you’ll be dressed as so I can find you.”
Her pulse raced at the prospect of a date. Her first in years.
“Say you’ll be there.”
The words appeared on her screen and Cass could not deny she wanted to meet him, even if he didn’t look exactly as she’d fantasized he did. She easily convinced herself chemistry could transcend IMing and, if he turned out to be remotely attractive and was, indeed, a tax attorney, as he’d told her, she’d be into him. And he wouldn’t mind her discussing tax laws if she fell out of character, right?
Jumping off the cliff, she wrote, “I’ll be there.”
“Great. I can’t wait to see you in person, baby.”
“Looking forward to it.”
They signed off, but Cass continued to stare at her computer. It was sad to say this was the longest relationship with a man she’d ever had. And it wasn’t even a relationship.
It was cybersex interspersed with some personal details here and there. Brief descriptions of themselves. An occasional anecdote from their day, which she had to keep to a minimum, lest she bore him to death with everything she really had to say about her work. Even among her peers, she overdid it. They’d eventually roll their eyes and ask if she ever took a break from her job.
Unfortunately, being a professional overachiever was the only way for Cass to feel halfway decent about herself every time her mothe
r went off on one of her “I just don’t understand you, Cassandra” tirades.
At twenty-nine, Cass really shouldn’t give a rat’s ass what anyone thought of her, including her overbearing, too-perfect-for-words mother. But Cass had always been a disappointment in the woman’s eyes. She’d never been interested in the girly-girl things her mother had wanted her to partake in, like ballet and gymnastics. Cheerleading and baton twirling. Piano and tap dancing.
Cass’ mother was a dainty, perfectly coiffed and elegantly dressed Southern belle. Even into her late forties. She’d won every beauty pageant she’d entered back in Louisiana and had impressively taken several state and national titles. She’d been runner-up in the global pageant she’d competed in and had never forgiven herself for not winning. For not being the most beautiful, most eloquent, most desired contestant.
Thus, she’d cast all her angst over her shortcomings onto Cass, who was clearly never meant to be a Southern belle or a beauty queen, much to her mother’s never-ending dismay. The main reason Cass hadn’t been able to get out of Louisiana quick enough when she’d graduated high school.
Though she didn’t have trouble attracting men and was always complimented for being attractive, she was the direct opposite of her mother in appearance and personality, which seemed to be a thorn in her mother’s side. Cass didn’t have perfectly styled hair. She had long curly dark-auburn hair and a fiery attitude to go with it, when she let it out. Which wasn’t often, mostly because her mother had assured her from the time she was a little girl that it was unbecoming for a young lady to be independent, confident and opinionated. Her mother preferred she be needy, demure and quiet. Like a soft whisper in the library. A well-behaved puppy. A china doll who sat prettily on a pedestal. Someone who never spoke unless first spoken to.
Eventually, Cass had become all of those things in her personal life, while inside her head, a voice screamed at her, demanding she not constantly hide her true nature just because her mother found it offensive.
Having cybersex and attending the Hunter’s Moon Ball would most definitely go against the grain, not that Cass intended to tell her mother about any of this. She didn’t purposely do things to displease the woman. Sometimes, as in this case, it was just how the ball bounced. The reasons she kept so much of her life to herself these days.