Bite Me: A Vampire Anthology

by Cain, Addison

  Stealing my mouth off his wrist, I wrap my lips around him and suck. Hard. He moans, delirious with desire, stroking my hair as if to pet me.

  I don’t care.

  I devour him, causing salty juices to seep out of the head of his shaft. That’s when hot liquid inundates the space between my legs, adding another level to what I’m experiencing.

  I know what it’s for. Sex education taught me well.

  Losing my mind all over again, I let Sonny’s shaft fall out of my mouth with a stringy length of spit and claw my way up his body. Without warning, I kiss him passionately. All tongue. Sexy moans. At the same time, I bind my legs around his waist, squeezing him in my thighs.

  “It’s better than they say, isn’t it?” he groans in my mouth, massaging his tongue across mine as his hands venture all over my body. So strong, kneading all the right places.

  “Tell me, Vi,” he begs for once. “Tell me what it felt like.”

  “Feels like,” I correct in a foreign tone, sounding all lusty and out of my own element. “The magic is still buzzing in my veins. It’s other worldly, Sonny. I’ve never experienced anything like it.” I stop kissing for long enough to look at him. Really look at him, wanting something I never thought I’d long for.

  “What is it?” he whispers, eyes racing back and forth between mine, burning.

  “Taste me,” I say, swallowing between words. “See if it’s the same.”

  “No.” He untangles my arms from around his neck and lays me back on the cot, almost snapping out of the zone. “I’m scared I won’t be able to stop.”

  “Then don’t stop.” I grab his hand now and put it on my neck where the beating vein pulses, urging him closer. It sets his eyes on fire. “You want this,” I say. “You want to taste me. You know you do.”

  “Yes, I do,” he says in a hungry whisper. “But I can’t. Not before—”

  Cutting him off from speaking, I urge him even closer by still holding his hand, so he’s kneeling between my wanton legs. The hair on his calves tickles. And I can feel a strange heat.

  Skin on skin...that’s what this is, just like in my vision. It ignites everything all over again.

  Reaching between our bodies, I clutch his solid length and line him up, no hesitation.

  “Take me,” I purr, arching into him. “Feed on me. Do whatever you want.”

  I detest the hesitation in his eyes, arching harder, but it does nothing. We’re just staring at each other, challenging. For a second, I wonder if he wants to abandon the whole thing—until he lowers his head and slams his mouth on mine, taking me in another ardent kiss. It’s ravenous. Our tongues are entangled; lips swelling under the pressure. I whine like a whore when his teeth bash mine. Louder when he splits my bottom lip. It makes him hiss like a beast, as powerful tremors tear through his muscular body.

  I press with my breasts to assure him it’s okay, enjoying the way the hair on his chest rubs my nipples, turning them into bullets. That’s when his meat rubs up and down my soft, wet folds. Sonny grinds his hips in wide, circular motions, making my clit throb like a jackhammer. I’m sure he can feel it, too. As I blink at him, his eyes turn from green to black, hooded under the light.

  “Come on, Sonny,” I moan, all but drowning in sensations. “You want this. That’s why you kidnapped me. That’s why you compelled me. That’s why you fed me your blood, to drive me crazy with desire. You want to feast on me, too. Admit it. Please, just admit it.”

  He nods, practically salivating at the mouth. “It’s true. It’s how I want to kill you, Vi.” One of his fingers traces the palpitating vein in my neck, teasing his soul. “When I orgasm for the first time, I want it to be at the very moment I drain your body of blood. I want to watch the life disappear from your eyes as you fall into a peaceful sleep. Then, it’ll all be over. For you and for me.”

  I couldn’t think of a better way to go. No pain. Only peace.

  I shut my eyes, as I feel his length nudge my entrance.

  “This might hurt,” he warns, resting his forehead against mine. “Just let the pain pass. It will get better.”

  I’ve no idea why, but I believe him. I believe everything about what’s happening right now, even if it’s not real.

  I can’t control my gasp when Sonny pushes in. Nor the cry that escapes my lips when he slowly tears through my virginity. It burns. Stings and burns. But it doesn’t matter. Inch by inch, he fills me up, until he’s lodged deep inside, balls pressed against my ass.

  “Open your eyes,” he commands in deep, dominating notes.

  I’m so foggy that it’s like I’m looking through slits, gazing up at his flushed face. Sweat beads on his temple, where there’s a little pulse throbbing. His pupils are completely black now, letting me know he’s holding on by a thread. I don’t want that. I want him to feed on me as I fed on him. I want him to lose control.

  If this is going to be my end, it’s going to be powerfully poetic.

  I tilt my head back, giving him full view of my neck. “Do it,” I breathe. “Do it now while you make love to me.”

  He doesn’t.

  Rather than fulfill what I assume is his most debauched desire, he begins to move his body on mine in long, ceaseless waves. Breaths ragged, puffing at my cheek. The muscles in his body contracting, bunching beneath my palms.

  It’s all so heady, tinted with the sweet scent of sex in the air. The pain is gone now, too, replaced with something indescribable. On every thrust, he hits a spot that makes me whimper with zeal, helping me climb higher and higher until an explosion starts from within. It radiates outward, causing my body to spasm in a frenzy. My feet thrash against the fur blanket. Hands claw down his muscular back. I scream through the ecstasy, not sure of what’s happening.

  That’s when I feel Sonny’s teeth sink into my neck with the sharpest pinch, drawing blood until I draw my last breath.

  THE END

  About Anita Gray

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  Sweet Ruin

  Cassandra Faye

  Chapter 1

  Grace

  Grace woke up coughing. Acrid smoke choked her lungs, burned her eyes, and left a single thought clanging like a bell inside her. Fire!

  She tried to jerk out of bed, the path down the back stairs to the parking lot clear in her head, but… she couldn’t sit up. And she wasn’t in bed.

  Forcing watering eyes open, she was almost blinded by the bright light. Not fire. Real lights. Glowing so high above they blurred together and beat down on her like a spotlight.

  She would have much rather opened her eyes to darkness.

  Thick leather cuffs wrapped around her wrists, linked with dark metal driven into her unlikely resting place — a wide stone table, rough against her back and already warmed by her body. She had to have laid there a while, long enough that her hips ached from the strain of legs spread obscenely wide.

  The fact that she was completely naked, tied down, and surrounded by the pitch-blackness of space… that should have been the strangest part of this night
mare.

  It wasn’t.

  Towering above her in dull gray stone was a monstrosity. It had to be nine or ten feet tall, set at the end of the table, looming over her. One look at it tightened her chest, left her wheezing lungs frozen in fear. It didn’t make sense to be terrified of a statue. She loved the weeping angels from Doctor Who as much as the next girl, but none of those monsters had anything on the beast that had inspired this fucked up creation.

  Also, the weeping angels weren’t real… and statues were just statues.

  Except this statue looked way too fucking real. From the tips of its impossibly pointed horns to the muscular legs that seemed as thick as tree trunks — this thing oozed malice. Its facial expression was a grotesque twist, perfectly carved lips pulled back just enough to reveal a single sharpened canine. Neck corded, it strained forward with shoulders and arms that would be the envy of any body builder with the balls to stare at this thing long enough.

  As her eyes slid lower, over the broad, powerful chest, the defined musculature of its torso, she found her breath again on a gasp. Every inch of this creature had been carved into the stone, and what had to the biggest erection she’d ever seen jutted out from its strong hips, pointed directly at her. Unsettling to say the least.

  It was a test of the laws of physics that a statue this huge could balance so far forward and not fall over. She swallowed, hands unconsciously grabbing at the chains, eyes glued to the monster.

  Maybe it’s attached to the table?

  The fucking table that I’m chained down to… naked.

  Get your priorities straight, Grace.

  Shaking her head, she tried to think clearly, but the lights above her were glowing even brighter now, their brilliance bleeding out even farther than before, almost like they were humming. Low and rhythmic, but lights didn’t make noises like that… did they?

  “He-hello?” Her voice cracked on that first attempt to speak. She cleared her throat, prying her sticky tongue from the roof of her mouth, unsure why it tasted like she’d just eaten a handful of powdered sugar.

  Sweet? Why did her mouth taste sweet — you’re lying on a fucking table, Grace. Naked. Spread wide. Priorities.

  “Someone? Please, is someone there?” There was no answer except for the strange humming. The harder she listened, the more it grew to sound like many voices joined together in the same droning lull. Her head swam, a wave of vertigo knocking her skull back against the stone.

  Aaaand… there was the statue.

  Shadows cast by the downward light left its eyes obscured, but that was probably for the best. The elegant, threatening horns — sweeping out from its smooth scalp before swooping back together so they could point at the ceiling like twin daggers — were frightening enough.

  Who would think up something this fucked up? The errant thought had her lips twitching in a smile as a haziness cloaked her thoughts, making it difficult to focus.

  The statue. The chains. The cuffs. Naked, exposed, vulnerable. Concentrate.

  Movement to her left drew her eye, but when her head lolled toward it, the room seemed to move with her. Light blurred like a paint stroke into the darkness, and her eyes watered. Lids clamped shut, the dreamlike sensation grew, swirling colors across the insides of her eyelids, making her dizzy. Purples and blues, swishing, blooming, fading.

  Voices. The hum is definitely voices.

  With a jerk, she peeled her eyes open again. The stark pool of light was absolute, a clean line where the darkness began. But there was movement beyond it, places where the blaze caught the edge of fabric brushing too close.

  She was an animal in a zoo, watched by the unknown.

  Turning her eyes up to the statue, she swallowed, dry throat stinging.

  I don’t belong here. I don’t belong here. I don’t belong here.

  “Please? Please, someone, help…” Grace tried to reach toward the black shadow that first caught her eye, but the chain was too short, catching with a clank, fingers frantically stretching out from her trapped wrist. Beyond the mental haze and the blinding light, she knew there should be fear, terror. She knew that a natural reaction would be to fight with everything in her, scream, but… this could not be real.

  It had to be a nightmare. A terrible, horrible nightmare and she would wake up soon.

  Suddenly, a hand brushed her thigh, and she turned her head too fast. Light blurred, swam, obscuring the shape beside the table for a moment longer than it took fingers to swipe up the slit between her legs. She felt everything, staring wide-eyed as the dark outline formed into the shape of a hooded figure.

  “Help me,” she whispered.

  There was no answer from the man — and it was a man. Impossible to mistake the broad shoulders filling out black robes. Nor could the thick finger pressing insistently inside her belong to a woman.

  The intrusion drew her to groan a single, “No.”

  Clamping her eyes tight so that she didn’t have to see the statue poised in the blinding lights above, closing off her sight as if that unwelcome finger might disappear, her whole body went tense.

  The cloaked man remained silent, working first one, then two fingers past labia and deep inside her body. The odd, clinical pressure only changed into something sinister when his other hand braced on her lower stomach, and a matching pair of fingers started toying with her clit.

  Incessant light leaked between her eyelids, her hips lifting without conscious decision. He’d set a rhythm, and she was caught in it — rise, fall, squirm, twitch. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

  That humming drone, which was definitely not the lights, grew louder. Archaic noises from some unknown language, something beyond her understanding no matter how often the tones were repeated. Wet sounds joined in the mix, and she realized those were hers. She was aroused. Somewhere in the dulled sections of her mind, sparks flashed, neurons fired, nerves responded — and Grace moaned.

  Fingers abandoned her instantly. Whining, she wanted the sensation back, strained to open her eyes and roll her head toward him. Unmistakably large hands worked at the fastenings of the figure’s dark robe. It dropped, her mouth gaped, strange, cool air brushing over teeth and tongue.

  It was definitely a man.

  Skin pale as moonlight against a backdrop of pure night. He placed a hand on the stone table and drew himself up. There was not a fraction of eye contact, no glimpse of his face beyond the blond hair atop his head as he stared with intense focus at the space between her thighs.

  He fisted his cock, stroked it once, brushed his cockhead between her lower lips, then surged. Steadily pressing forward, he ignored her instinctual squeeze, the way she tried to halt him, the catch in her breath. As soon as he bottomed out, balls brushing against her ass, he started to withdraw.

  Slow, deep, insistent thrusts spread her liquid heat evenly. Then he lowered over her — body heat warming the thin cushion of air between them, elbows braced on either side of her ribs in the space below her spread arms.

  “I’m cold,” she said to the air above her because she knew the man inside her wouldn’t respond. He rutted her like she wasn’t there, working in and out with piston-like efficiency, but still… it affected her. As his breaths shortened, so did the length of his strokes, powerful hips slamming into hers until she felt the spark of friction that brought unwanted pleasure. Fists clenching, nails driving into palms, she heard herself moaning no matter the strangeness of it.

  Without warning she was close to that tingling rush brimming deep within, pushing the haze back just enough to let her feel it as it threatened to boil over, to crash and suffocate her with all the tedious light that blinded her with every blink.

  Then he suddenly pulled out of her, throwing himself off the table like she’d burned him, but it was she who was on fire. Deserted with her body arching, seeking more heat, another stroke, another deep thrust.

  There.

  Another shape in the light, above her, below the menacing statue. Tanned skin. More muscle. Coc
k thicker as he mounted and pushed inside in one sharp movement. Chains rattled from the force of it, and she gasped as he stretched her inner walls. Delirious and so close, hovering near the edge as his hips rolled, crushing against her clit in one sinful sweep that sent a full body shiver through her muscles.

  “Yesss…” she hissed between clenched teeth, lifting herself up to take the next hard drive at just the right angle. “Oh God!”

  Fire burned through her for one glorious and terrible moment, pleasure striking like lightning in the haze, clearing the path for a single thought — I don’t want this. But her involuntary moans, the sweet release as the orgasm crested and sent her core into desperate spasms around the hard cock still moving deep, the way she parted her thighs the tiniest bit more to welcome the next thrust… all of it denied the words, and in another breath she couldn’t even remember them.

  There was too much, and too little, all at once.

  She needed more.

  This man — was it the same man? — stroked his thumbs against her ribs. A trilling sensation that made her skin shiver, flooded it with goose bumps as frantic, incoherent pleas left her lips. When he suddenly pulled out, moving away too fast, Grace screamed — abandoned and angry. A grunt of effort drew unfocused eyes to the edge of the stone table, and she finally saw her uninvited lover fully. Chiseled body bowed backward as his fist moved over his cock, so quick it blurred with the light, painting his flesh in streams of shimmering radiance. His shout of release made him buckle, bracing a hand on the stone table as he spilled at the base.

  Not inside her. Why?

  “Pleeeaaasseee,” she begged, twisting in the chains, but she only caught a flash of brown eyes before he ducked down. Standing with a fistful of cloth, he didn’t turn back toward her, forcing her to watch the round of his ass until he disappeared into the black. “Why!” she shouted, tears threatening, the need turning into a burning, agonizing itch, but then from the other side of the table she heard movement above the dull, constant chanting.