Just One Bite Volume 6

by All Romance eBooks LLC

  “Oh, I’m certain that we could.” Given what happened the night they’d hooked up, round two could only be better. When it came to mad bedroom skills, they were evenly matched. “But vamps have advanced sniffers. Wherever we went, they’d find us.”

  “Well, how about one for the road?” Mikkel stood, brushed the sand off his seat, then moved between Blake’s forcefully spread legs.

  “What are you—”

  Mikkel grinned as he dropped to his knees. In short order, he had Blake’s jeans opened, his boxers down, and his suddenly very hard cock in his hungry mouth.

  Eyes rolling back, Blake didn’t struggle or speak or do anything to stop Mikkel. A blowjob before death seemed about the only way to go into that long goodnight. Mikkel’s talented tongue slid over his flesh, taking him from simple pleasure into a zone of sublime bliss. As Blake climaxed, he thought this might be as close to heaven as he was ever going to get.

  “For a dead guy, you taste incredible.” Mikkel tucked him back in his faded jeans and fastened them up with strong, calloused fingers. With death so close, Blake seemed to be hyperaware of everything, including the fact that Mikkel had long fingernails. Not girly long, but long enough for him to lightly scratch his skin as he dressed him.

  “I wonder if all vamps taste good.” His maker had tasted of cinnamon and copper.

  “I think it’s just you.” Mikkel licked his lips.

  “I could return the favor.” Blake dropped his gaze to the delectable bulge in Mikkel’s shorts, then peered up into his eyes.

  Mikkel stood. He glanced up and down the shore. “This might be about the kinkiest thing I’ve ever done.”

  “Getting blown on the beach?” Blake could only watch as Mikkel peeled down his shorts with excruciating slowness.

  “Getting blown on the beach by a vampire in bondage.” Out came his marvelous prick--thick, hard, and nestled in dark brown hair.

  Since Blake couldn’t move, Mikkel had to do the work, which didn’t seem to bother him a bit. With teasing seduction, Mikkel lowered his cock to Blake’s lips. Just as Blake opened his mouth to welcome him within, Mikkel backed off.

  “I just wanna make sure you’re hungry for it.”

  Moonlight caused his perfect smile to glow as Mikkel tauntingly eased his cock into Blake’s waiting mouth. Rocking his hips while holding Blake’s head steady, Mikkel bit his bottom lip harder the closer he got to climax. Just as he jetted, he bit hard enough to draw blood, the scent of which sent Blake into a flurry of sucking. Before he realized his intent, Mikkel was back on his knees, but this time he plastered his mouth over Blake’s.

  Sinfully sweet blood, just the barest bit, exploded his canines from his gums, returned his cock to hardness, and caused a craving that nothing but drinking from Mikkel could assuage.

  If his tongue weren’t furiously licking at the tiny cut in Mikkel’s mouth, Blake would have berated Mikkel for his foolishness. But then again, trussed up, he couldn’t very well chase him. All Mikkel had to do was walk away, but Blake knew he wouldn’t. This was what he’d wanted all along. Still, once Mikkel pulled away and saw what Blake had become, he would run screaming. Oh well, at least he got a parting blowjob.

  Mikkel wrenched himself back from their deep kiss and opened his sapphire blue eyes.

  Blake braced himself, but the shock and horror never came. Rather, Mikkel smiled broadly.

  “Your eyes are glowing red.”

  “They do that when I taste blood.” Especially blood that he’d longed for since they’d hooked up.

  “And what long teeth you have.”

  “The better to suck you with.” Considering his mellow reaction, Blake frowned. “You knew what I’d look like in bloodlust.”

  “I did.”

  “And you think, what? In this state I have no self-control?” When he’d first been turned, that had been true. His hunger had been obscene and so compelling he didn’t care who he ate, or even if he killed them. Once he’d sucked his fill, he’d lapsed into a blood coma. Delirious with satisfaction, he’d then wanted to fuck in the same wild frenzy with which he’d fed. If not for his maker, he feared he might very well have fucked someone to death. As it was, he’d just expended his lust on his maker until the rising sun drove them to seek shelter. By the time night rolled around, Blake had his needs in check.

  “I was hoping I could compel you to bite me.” Mikkel offered up a mischievous grin that caused Blake’s control to slip.

  “Naughty boy. You’re not ashamed of what you’ve done, only abashed that I caught you out.”

  Mikkel leaned back. “You are the only guy I know who uses words like abashed. Must be that east coast education.”

  “Or more brain cells from less alcohol.”

  After a chuckle, Mikkel’s attention wandered down. “You’re hard again.”

  “Now that ability did come with my vampy powers. Even as a teenager, I didn’t cycle this fast.”

  “Seems a shame to let a beautiful man die with a boner.”

  “Beautiful?”

  “Oh yeah.” Mikkel leaned close as if he were imparting a tremendous secret. “Black hair, perfect pale skin, eyes so dark they’re almost black, and your cock--” He released a long, low whistle. “You are utter perfection.”

  Blake didn’t argue, not when he was too busy enjoying the anticipation of having Mikkel’s perfect lips against his again. After the slowest descent possible without moving backwards, Mikkel’s mouth finally pressed against his. As he parted his lips to taste him, he flicked his tongue over the bite, licking it open and spilling just enough blood to prime his entire body. When he groaned, Mikkel matched the sound with a husky growl that lifted the short hairs along his neck.

  “I’m not letting this go to waste.”

  Before he knew what was happening, Mikkel had Blake’s cock exposed and covered in a condom.

  “I’m not going to turn you, no matter what you do.”

  “Right now I just want you to fuck me.” Down and off his shorts went. “But it looks like I’m going to have to do the work.”

  Since Blake was bound with his arms up on the handrails and his legs at the base where the staircase met the sand, he couldn’t move his hips more than a few inches. Mikkel was not perturbed. Straddling his restrained body, Mikkel lowered himself until Blake’s prick was buried between his cheeks.

  Snarling out with pleasure, Blake followed that with a frustrated groan that he couldn’t move. All Blake could do was watch as Mikkel fucked himself on his cock. Up and down and oh, God, he had a way of wiggling side to side that drove Blake out of his mind.

  “Bite your lip again, feed me just as I start to climax.”

  Working his hips, Mikkel watched Blake carefully, waiting for the right moment. When it came, he bit his lip and kissed him.

  Bloodlust and climax were a potent combination that practically put Blake into orbit. It was a good thing he was bound or he might not be able to stop himself from drinking Mikkel dry.

  “If I cut your pants off, I can fuck you.”

  Blake imagined what that would look like from a distance. A pale man bound with a bronzed god riding him like there was no tomorrow.

  “Do it.” Blake realized there was no tomorrow for him. Why not go out utterly satisfied?

  Mikkel whipped out a Swiss army knife that looked ancient, but the blade was sharp enough to cut through the faded denim of Blake’s jeans. With three careful strokes, he cut a flap in the seat of Blake’s pants.

  “And now for your boxers.”

  Mikkel’s muscles bulged as he ripped Blake’s cotton underpants apart. The predatory look his eyes as he literally clawed his way into Blake’s trousers was possibly the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

  Leaning back, Mikkel grabbed his shorts.

  “What the hell are you waiting for?”

  “Condom.”

  “Right.” His maker told him vamps didn’t get or give any STDs, but Blake would never take that risk, especially not w
ith Mikkel.

  Condom on, body poised, Mikkel stopped. “Christ, Blake. I didn’t even ask if you want me to--”

  “God yes, I want you to. Fuck me, Mikkel.”

  And he did.

  Hard and fast, Mikkel rode his bound body, muttering vulgarities the entire time. When his knees lost traction in the sand, Mikkel tossed his shorts on the concrete and pressed in closer. Restrained and at his mercy, all Blake had to do was lie back and enjoy. For a lifetime finale, it was spectacular. When Mikkel got going, his entire body was one long muscle that never seemed to tire. When Mikkel got close to climax, he leaned his head back, exposing his throat.

  Unable to control himself now that he knew just how good Mikkel’s blood tasted, Blake leaned up, and bit him. Hot, salty, and wickedly luscious, Blake’s blood gushed into his mouth.

  Driven by the pain of the bite, Mikkel thrust so hard and deep he scraped Blake’s buttocks against the rough concrete, but Blake didn’t care. Pain fueled his bloodlust. Over Mikkel’s shoulder, Blake saw the barest bit of brightening in the sky. Panic tingled along his nerves but reminded him that Mikkel belonged in the light. Blake released his neck, flicking his tongue over the wound to close it before Mikkel could bleed anymore.

  “Let me drink from you.” Mikkel’s eyes were bright, his expression hopeful.

  “No.” If he could, he would cup his face and kiss him tenderly. “I’ve seen the pictures of you surfing. You belong in the sun.”

  Mikkel shook his head, then hung it, defeated.

  “Finish, Mikkel, let me at least have the image of your pleasure in my mind as I go.”

  Up his head came, but Mikkel didn’t move. “If you won’t turn me, I have no choice.”

  “Choice?”

  Mikkel’s grin grew into a full-fledged smile exposing long, sharp teeth.

  Blake recoiled, but there was nowhere for him to go. Before he knew what was happening, Mikkel’s mouth descended on his throat. He sank his teeth deep and drank. Blood surged from his body to Mikkel’s mouth. As a new and curious lust filled every cell in Blake’s body, Mikkel rocked his hips.

  “Drink from me again, Blake, or we’re both dead.”

  There was a knowing in Blake’s body that together they would live or die. After a fruitless effort, Blake blurted, “I can’t reach your neck!”

  Mikkel moved so that Blake could reach his shoulder, close to his neck. Sinking his teeth into bronzed flesh, he drank. In tandem they fucked and drank until Mikkel climaxed on a growl that awakened something primitive within Blake’s soul.

  Snarling, Blake snapped his head back.

  Mikkel grasped his face and forced him to look at him.

  Blake had thought a vamp transformation was terrifying, but what he saw in Mikkel was so horrifying he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Mikkel’s hair bristled and thickened, his eyes turned glistening and pale, almost white, but most shocking was the way his mouth changed. All his teeth elongated and every muscle in his body grew taut.

  As Blake watched, he felt those same changes happening to his body. “What have you done to us?”

  “I don’t know, exactly, but I hope this works.”

  Before the transformation was complete, Mikkel rose, shucking his condom and the one still covering Blake’s prick. Fine, blond hair thickened over Mikkel’s body, making him look like a--

  “Wolf!”

  Mikkel grinned. Despite the distortion of his features, he was completely recognizable to Blake. To his shock, he was even more handsome now than he’d been before.

  Lifting his head, sniffing deep, Mikkel considered the brightening sky. “We’ve got to get you out of here.”

  “Why have you done this to me?”

  Stunned by the question, Mikkel simply said, “Because I love you.” When Blake only stared at him openmouthed, he continued. “I knew from the moment I saw you.” He looked at the restraints. “And given what happened to your maker yesterday, I figured the same lurked in your future.”

  “Why not just cut me free?”

  “They’d find you.” Mikkel grasped his leg restraint in both hands and tore the thick leather as if it were no stronger than paper. “Only if we turned each other could I hide you from your--what do you call a collective of vamps?”

  “A suck cluster?”

  Their chuckles sounded odd through their elongated snouts.

  “In my pack, you’ll be welcomed as my mate.”

  “A male mate?”

  “Hey, vamps aren’t the only progressive creatures.”

  Mikkel tore off the rest of Blake’s restraints, offered out his hand, and hauled him to his feet.

  “My pants.” Blake touched his exposed and now very hairy backside.

  “You’re not going to need them in few minutes.”

  Blake shimmied off his pants and shrugged off his shirt.

  “What if the sun just fries us both?” Blake cast a worried glance toward the east. The sun was just seconds from breaking over the horizon. He hadn’t been a vamp long enough to really miss the sun, but he’d been one long enough to fear it.

  “It was a risk I was willing to take.”

  “Live or die, I’m glad I’m with you.”

  Clasping hands that were rapidly turning to paws, they faced the sunrise together. Light hit Blake with an almost physical sensation. He held his breath, waiting for the flames, but only a pleasant warmth flowed over his black fur.

  Blake turned to speak to Mikkel, but all that came out was a series of woofs and growls.

  Mikkel dropped to all fours and ran off.

  Blake followed his shaggy blond butt, wondering how doggy style would feel now that he was actually a canine. When Mikkel looked back and flashed a grin, he had a feeling he’d find out soon enough.

  Bite the Dust by Sarah Madison

  The hunger was strong in him tonight. It had been simmering on the horizon for the last several days. Tonight, it rumbled through him like the first sign of thunder in a summer storm; hot and oppressive, with flashes of impatience.

  It had rained earlier that evening, but the clouds had parted and the moon was a thin, sharp sickle, casting a gleam on the damp, oil-slicked pavements.

  The hunger pounded in his veins as he walked along the sidewalk. It whispered in his ears; swirling around his body like the panels of his long leather coat when he moved. It was in every heartbeat; it thrummed in his groin. He wasn’t going to be satisfied with anything less than a kill this evening; that he knew. It had been too long since he’d had anything more than a casual feeding. Teeth sinking to the hilt into the throat of a living being. That frightened acceleration of a pulse beneath his lips, the taste of blood, hot and pumping from the source. Nothing less would do.

  Tonight he would kill someone.

  Once Mikhail made the decision, the hunger retreated, content to dog his footsteps like a wolf sensing the first weary stumble in its prey. He could contain it now, at least long enough to choose the right victim. He never hurried the selection process. Like choosing the right wine to go with dinner, it was an act to savor.

  He stepped into the cold night, testing the flavors of the passersby, sizing up a likely target. Few people were out at this hour; none interested him. Almost too easy. No thrill of the chase. He crossed the street and headed down the block to the local bar. Watering holes were the same everywhere. They all made good hunting grounds.

  It was closing time when he arrived, and the crowd was already milling out onto the street. People paired up, hailed taxis, or moved off toward the nearest bus stop. A single woman, dressed in a raincoat and heels, caught his attention, and he watched as she walked alone down the sidewalk in the opposite direction from everyone else. He followed in her wake. He was in no hurry. He had all night.

  She strode off, brisk and purposeful. He walked at his own pace, knowing he could close the distance between them in the blink of an eye. She looked promising, and yet he didn’t crave her, he felt no strong desire for her. She would do if
he found no one better.

  She carried a leather portfolio and wore an expensive watch; a lawyer perhaps. What had kept her in the bar so late? Maybe she had been hoping to pick someone up. A flicker of interest stirred in him as he considered this possibility. As long as it had been since he’d slaked his thirst with a kill, it had been even longer since he’d seduced anyone. This was starting to have possibilities.

  Only she turned abruptly and mounted a flight of stairs to an old brownstone, just as someone was coming out of the building. The man in a running suit held the door for her and she went in, the door swinging shut behind her. The jogger came down the stairs and started his run, not too fast. A pace he could easily sustain on the wet sidewalk. Mikhail switched his intent from the woman to the jogger. He could hear the thud of the runner’s heart, actively simulating fear, and it attracted him. Still, he took his time. He could catch up whenever he wanted. For all intents and purposes, he was just a lone walker, headed home after a night on the town. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his coat and stayed within the shadows of the buildings as he walked.

  The jogger’s path took him off the main road and down a side alley in the direction of a small weedy park, nothing more than a place for people to walk their dogs. Mikhail passed a dog walker, plastic baggie in her hand. Her feisty Jack Russell bared his teeth and lunged at Mikhail as he came abreast of the owner.

  “Buster!” the old woman snapped. “Enough!”

  He had a feeling Buster had done this sort of thing before, seeing danger in every stranger. Too bad the old woman didn’t know that, this time, Buster was right.

  He walked past them toward the end of the alley, where it emptied back out on another road. The buildings here had an air of seedy disrepair. Some of them had broken windows, giving the impression of missing teeth, like tenants in a trailer park. He could still hear the steady thump-thump-thump of the runner’s feet in the distance; he could feel the tremor of it against his skin. If he wanted, he could track the jogger down.

  Instead, a different movement pinged his radar, and he turned his head in the direction of it, releasing a powerful burst of ultrasonic sound to locate it.