Mortal Bite (Golden Vampires of Tuscany)

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Mortal Bite (Golden Vampires of Tuscany) Page 4

by Sharon Hamilton


  It had been a sudden impulse to give him her card tonight. It was his move now, not hers. She was not going to chase him.

  She wanted to be pursued. Hunted. She knew she needed to run from him.

  So he could claim her for his own.

  Chapter 5

  Dag Nielsen, Supreme Dark Vampire Coven Leader hoped that the virgin sex would calm his nerves. His specialty was deflowering young girls with his fangs and then drinking from them until the urge grew so great he had to ram himself deep inside them. Being careful wasn’t in his dictionary. He refused to alter his behavior to become acceptable. He rather liked that people ran for the hills or screamed until they passed out when he showed up.

  His black Harley was waiting outside. Two members of his coven had parked next to the Harley, trying to look disinterested, but he could tell they had their ears tuned to the little closed window at the cheap motel, listening for the kill bite, after the moans and eventual screams of passion from the blonde waif.

  She’d made the mistake of asking him for a little spare change in front of Starbucks. He asked her some questions after putting her into an altered, glamoured state, confirming that she was indeed a virgin, which surprised him. But she told him telepathically she knew how to give good head, which was exciting. Dag offered her a drink and a meal, and glamoured her a bit more so all she could say was, “Please.”

  “Please,” she said again as he licked her nether lips. He could still taste the soap she’d used. He’d required she take a good, hot shower before he would insert his tongue in any of her orifices. He licked her again. She jolted, and then he tasted blood.

  Calm down. He was hungry for her, but he needed a meal, not just a snack. And he was pissed off today, so wouldn’t be leaving anything around for his bodyguards in the way of sloppy seconds.

  He inserted his forefinger in her anus and her eyes flew open.

  “Oh, yes, you’ll like this. Just relax and feel my finger, Sheila.”

  “Shirley. My name’s—ahhhhhh—Shirley.”

  He pulled his finger out. “Makes no difference whether your asshole is called Shirley or Shelly. My thumb wants a taste.”

  He inserted his fat thumb and she gripped the tops of his shoulders, digging her nails into his vampiric flesh.

  “Now we’re talking, Baby. Go ahead, try to hurt me.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to—“

  He stretched her enough to insert two fingers into her sweet little ass.

  “To what? Fuck you? That what you wanted?” He leaned over her, breathed into her face and saw her eyelids flutter. “Sweet little Susie. You have a lovely pink peach of a twat and a tight little ass. Please, my dear, can I ravage your ass first?”

  She was struggling with the answer. He could tell that her real self wanted to say no, but her glamoured self couldn’t help but say yes. She bit down on her lip. Hard.

  “That’s my job,” Dag barked. He bent over and bit her lip, drawing just a little blood as his fang moved over her rosy plumpness. His tongue had to work to coax hers out of the black hole that was her upper palate where it was trying to hide. He sucked hard, mumbling, “Mine.” She didn’t resist him.

  They never did.

  “Ahh,” she moaned. Dag noticed it got one of his guards’ attention as the sudden head movement gave him away. The guard licked his lips.

  Not today, lover boy. She’s all mine.

  He tried to send that message telepathically, but Dag was positive the thickheaded dark vampire didn’t get it.

  He refocused on his meal.

  Taking his fingers out of her ass he set himself on her pussy. It was swollen already and bright pink. “Lovely color, my dear Sarah.” He said as he admired it.

  She opened her eyes and released her grip on his shoulders.

  “Did I say to stop that?”

  “No, I just, I just like you licking me better than—than—the other—“

  Dag inserted his finger back inside her ass. “Than that?” He twisted it.

  “Well, okay, but only one, just one, please?”

  “Fair enough, my sweet. Fair enough.” He kissed her again, leaving her tongue alone. “Only if you scratch me.”

  She looked at him as if he were crazy. He knew he was, of course.

  “Scratch you?” she asked.

  “That’s right. Grab onto my shoulders and squeeze. Draw blood. I like it rough,” he said.

  “But—“ she couldn’t finish because he had laved her clit so hard he tasted her lovely blood again.

  “You want it in the butt?”

  Her eyes flew open in terror. “No!”

  “Then scratch me. Make me hurt. I promise, I won’t get angry. I’ll get gentler the more you hurt me. It helps me come.”

  She slowly nodded, disturbing her blonde hair where splayed all over the white pillow, beckoning him like a mermaid under water. He willed her to look deep into his eyes so she could see the danger there. She’d be delicious as she feared for her life.

  At first she frowned, but then, as the flames tickled her insides and she appeared to share his passion for the dark side, her eyes became fixed, and she grabbed his right butt cheek and scraped hard enough to actually drag a layer of his skin under her nails.

  Dag became hard as granite. He was impressed. He’d figured she didn’t have it in her. But this new, sweet gesture on her part to cross the great fiery chasm touched him. Perhaps she was worth saving, like the farmer who ate his fabled pig one limb at a time, as the joke went.

  But this was no joke. It was a reveal that someone mortal might be able to share in his pleasure and live to tell the story. And she was virgin. No one else had had her. How wonderful it would be that he would be the only creature to have her. And he could do it again and again and again. Perhaps give her the surgery, make her virgin again so he could rip that from her all over again.

  She brought her bloody fingers to her mouth, and, staring hard into his eyes, licked them. Her eyelids fluttered with the new energy his blood gave her.

  “Yes, my lovely. That’s it. Do you feel the blood on your tongue?”

  “Your name.”

  “Huh?” Dag wasn’t sure what she was asking.

  “You have a name. I want to speak it to you with your blood on my tongue. I want to kiss you while I moan your name.”

  He arched back and looked down on her, cocking his head to the side. He quickly surveyed the room, half thinking perhaps she was speaking to someone else. He felt her heartbeat double-tapping his chest in a most unusual rhythm.

  Her tongue swiped a pinkish swath across her upper lip. He could see his blood covering her teeth and gums. She did not blink. Her deep blue eyes seemed to go midnight on him. Her lips began to form a word.

  “More.”

  Dag felt his erection falter and then wither completely. She was not afraid of him. Perhaps it had been a mistake to let her taste him.

  “More,” she whispered again. She scratched across his buttock again. The right side of her lip twitched up in an involuntary reflex. She dug deeper. He found himself sighing into the pain. His dick responded, pressing against her thigh, begging to claim her.

  Her fingertips, covered in blood, painted her own lips, then reached up and touched his. She pulled his head down to her and moaned as their flesh touched. Her tongue found one of his fangs and impaled itself. He felt drops of her blood cover his tongue. Her little core arched up against his cock. She whimpered, and he found he loved the sound of her submission. Her total submission.

  He was used to the fear, the certainty of death in their eyes just before he took their lives away from them forever. Their violent, terrified thoughts fed his need not only for their blood, but also for the depth of their despair, their fear. This little one was giving herself to him, willingly.

  He brought his hand up to her face, expecting it to feel plastic, or porcelain, or something not real. She had wispy strands of hair at her temples where the golden curls we
re unruly. She bowed her forehead into his palm as if she needed the blessing of his touch. She rolled her head to the side and exposed for him her strong jugular vein.

  You are virgin. Are you virgin to the bite?

  I am yours. He tensed as he heard her reply in his own head. Take me. Taste me. Master.

  His fingers smoothed over her soft, creamy neck. He licked her on the vein that rose up to the surface. She sighed. Take me.

  His shaft was thick and pulsing. He had never wanted to be inside anyone this bad during his miserable hundred years of vampiric life. He reached under him and drew her right leg up and over his shoulder. He angled himself at her opening, forcing the head of his cock just inside. She struggled to accept him.

  She was so tight he had to force himself deep inside her. He felt the skin protecting her virginity give way. Her eyes glazed over and she rolled her head back, raising her neck to his mouth. He penetrated all the way to the hilt, splitting her insides as he forced his way into her narrow channel. And then he bit down on her neck.

  The sweet elixir that was her life’s blood covered his tongue and continued down his throat. He brought his fingers up and entangled them in her golden locks, pulling her head up and over. He sucked as he dug himself deeply in her trench.

  Dag. Say it. My name is Dag.

  “Dag. Fuck me, Dag. Come inside me. Take me.”

  He had never heard a woman say his name before. He’d been called devil, other names that thrilled him. But never before had he felt pleasure hearing his own name spoken by the bloody lips of his sexual conquest.

  She began to shake. He had drained much of her. Her skin was cool. She was at the point where, if he continued, she would be dead to him. Truly dead. Her lifeless body was the vessel he wanted to spew his seed into. His guttural moans shook the windows.

  After several minutes, she lay there with her eyes staring off to the side, with practically no pulse or signs of breathing. Her skin was turning a light shade of blue. Bloody saliva dripped from the corner of her mouth.

  Her sacrifice had moved him. Suddenly, he didn’t want to be done with her. In a totally selfish mood, he used his fang to slit his own wrist and placed it to her lips. She did not respond. Her blue skin was turning purple.

  Drink. Drink my blood.

  He first felt the tip of her tongue trace the gash he’d made in his wrist. Then her lips puckered and formed a seal around his wound and she sucked. Immediately her color changed. Her breathing started in a rattled rhythm, then dark and deep. She rolled her head back on the pillow and stared into his eyes. Her fingers, still covered in his blood, laced behind his ear. His shaft shuddered inside her and she closed her eyes, then opened them again as she moved against him.

  For the first time in his life, he wanted to give a woman pleasure. This woman, who had given herself to him freely. Of her own will.

  She was putty for his soul. To do with whatever he wanted.

  She suddenly became the most important thing in his world.

  Chapter 6

  Dag told his men the little panhandler was dead and that he’d been interrupted by a cell phone call. It was partly the truth, anyway. He was going back inside to tidy up, and then they’d go run their errand, he told them.

  “You want us to clean up?” The one with the thicker brow and thinner forehead asked as he drooled over himself. Dag knew the cretin liked fresh kill, as it would be the closest thing he would ever get to a warm-blooded human female lover. And the dark vamp was cursed with more than the Neanderthal forehead; he also exuded the mind-numbing smell. Some said it was like fermented cabbage, or some shit humans liked to eat with their tofu.

  On the phone, his watcher had reported a possible lead from a bookseller in Prague. He had work he needed tonight to prepare for a possible trip.

  Dag looked into the bathroom mirror just before he stepped into the shower for a quick one. The towels were rough and cheap, and he made a mental note to bring some of his own next time. Cheap motels were great for anonymity, but not so good for the accommodations. But it had always been too risky, especially since the purge was nearly upon them, to bring mortals to his own inner sanctum and his own bed. Maybe it was time to change that.

  He left his phone number for the blonde. He figured that once her head cleared and she stopped her vomiting—something he didn’t like to watch but which always occurred when he created a new vamp—she’d decide to try out her new powers. Dag hoped she’d use him as her guinea pig. Was looking forward to it. If he was right about her, she’d know that no one else would do. She’d find him like a homing beacon on a drone.

  The drapes were shuttered tight. The door scraped on the ageing step sill. One last look at the lovely, sleeping lady, who had begun to pink up quite nicely, lying with her legs spread, a sexy little trickle of blood coming from her upper thigh. Her breasts heaved, covered in his blood, or hers, when he’d devoured them, sucked them and covered them with his scent to claim her. He could make her come with just one finger, placed anywhere now. And that electrified him.

  He sighed and closed the door behind him. Forcing his fangs back up into his gums, he licked his lips one last time, and felt the lurch in his trousers.

  It took a minute before he could look at his two dark cohorts. He didn’t want them to see the satisfied lust in his eyes, or that he wasn’t nearly done with her. It was God’s cruel joke, this miracle that made it so she would regenerate herself, mixing the best of both worlds: her human side, which was retreating in surrender, and her new vamp side, which was commanding her body to change. In this half-changed state, the lady would be an absolutely stunning meal, and the fuck of a lifetime.

  In the old days, before the responsibility of Coven Leader had befallen him—well, being totally honest, before he’d murdered his boss and maker—he’d had long evenings of sex and orgies. Now duty called. It was the one thing he regretted and hadn’t considered before he took that momentous step.

  He thought about The Book of Spawn, the “Bat Book,” his mentor had called it. There were things in that book that could end his race forever, and give dominance to the Golden Vampires he was hunting down and killing daily. Since he had no intention of giving up his existence without a fight, that book had to be found and eliminated. Much as he wished he could spend time exploring the blonde’s beautiful body, scoring it, mutilating it and watching the miracle as she regenerated, the future of his power and dominion over the world for all eternity was at stake.

  Even a world-class piece of ass like hers wasn’t worth that. If he succeeded, he’d have centuries to enjoy himself later.

  After he got rid of all the Goldens and their offspring. After he completed his mission.

  Chapter 7

  Cara awoke to the sound of a car horn blaring. Checking the clock, she realized she had overslept and missed church. Her head ached, as if she’d been drugged. Had someone slipped her something in her drink last night?

  She felt as if she was exhausted from staying up all night making love. The feel of a new relationship burned in her belly. As though she’d been intimate with him. As though he’d seen her naked, seen her full of the hot pleasure that was her vivid dreams. And he wanted more.

  No. I slept alone. Though she looked around her bedroom, she found no evidence that he had been there last night. She discovered her sex was swollen and sensitive when she stroked herself and discovered she was wet with her own desire. But no man had penetrated her last night. She’d been alone with her naked fantasies.

  Cara ripped herself free from the bed and showered. She put her hair in a clip and wore her tightest pair of jeans with a small, pink long-sleeved top. She applied her makeup fast, adding some sparkles to her eyelids and pink cherry lip-gloss.

  Just in case, she thought as she smacked her lips together to spread the creamy glitter lip gel.

  She was starving and parched for some orange juice and decided to visit a popular bistro she knew was open for Sunday brunch. She found a corner ta
ble in the shadows, ordered eggs and French press coffee and settled in to listen to Brazilian love songs and read one of her vampire romance novels.

  The hair at the back of her neck and forearms tingled as she read a steamy scene of blood and sex. The vampire hero became the man she met last night. He was the one biting her own neck as she writhed under him.

  “Cara?” a female voice interrupted.

  Cara had been staring into her coffee, leaning on her book, but not reading, dwelling instead in her own fantasies. She recognized the voice, and looked up with a smile.

  “Valerie. Sorry. I was pretty engrossed in this book.” Cara held it up to show her friend.

  “Hmmm. Let me see that,” the redhead demanded as she pulled it out of Cara’s hands and began reading where she had left off:

  “His thick cock thrust upwards, impaling her with his will to possess every inch of her body. At last she felt the bite on her neck, as he took from her what she had never given before. Her blood. And with it, he took her heart. Completely.” Val fanned her face but remained standing in front of Cara’s table. “You’ll have to lend me this book when you’re done.”

  Cara searched the room, making sure they hadn’t attracted the wrong kind of attention, and smiled. “At this rate, that’s liable to be tonight. There’s sex in every chapter.”

  “My kind of book,” Val answered. “You sure you won’t give your friend a little priority claim? I promise to return him in the morning.”

  Val meant the hero in the book, but Cara felt possessive of the arms and eyes of the man she met last night.

  “He’s mine,” she said and grabbed her book, placing it in her backpack. “Come, sit with me. I’m buying.” She motioned to the chair and Val eagerly accepted.

 

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