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Carnal Lust

Page 3

by Ashley Ladd


  “He’s wrong,” she muttered under her breath. She didn’t begin to understand him.

  But exhausted from the flight and the showdown, she punched her pillow then slipped into fitful slumber.

  Jumbled visions of Nikolai invaded her dreams, making her toss and turn, and she quickly became entangled in her sheets, feeling trapped between her duty to Earth, its inhabitants and her loyalty to her father.

  She fought against them, against intangible bonds she couldn’t see but could feel with every fibre of her being. She gnawed at them with her fangs but to no avail. They tied her tighter, and she felt as if she were suffocating.

  Screams ripped from her throat, and she fought her bonds.

  “Shush, my love. Pray tell, don’t worry so much. Nothing is as black as it seems,” the rich masculine of her lover’s voice crooned. Strong but gentle arms crept around her from behind.

  She smiled and sank into her lover’s mesmerising warmth. “Not as black? I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” Then her dream turned into the nightmare that haunted her for the millionth time as she witnessed her beloved planet exploding into a billion burning pieces, as millions of terrified voices cried for mercy. Nikolai hadn’t shown clemency to them. Why should she show it to him?

  “We’re here, together, my sweet. Forget about all that. Live for today.” The last words were mumbled huskily against her ear then a moist tongue delved inside, laving it, making her quiver.

  She relaxed into the embrace, yearning to do as her lover implored. She’d never truly lived, had never let go of her parents’ past. She’d never felt free to be herself, to live her own life. Surely she could shrug off if off for one more night to indulge in something for herself. But how? Her mission defined her.

  “You know you want to.” The voice bewitched her, echoing her thoughts. His warm breath, his sensual lips, caressed her into a relaxed mindlessness, and she laid her head on his broad shoulder. “You deserve to.”

  She nodded. Her lover had the sexiest voice she’d ever heard, and she quaked in his arms.

  “We’re meant to be together, forever,” he continued, turning her around and lowering his lips to hers.

  His face and form lay in the shadows, but his erection pushed unmistakably against her stomach as was the fervour of his tongue exploring her mouth.

  Frissons of desire shot up her arm, through her heart and down to her pussy. When he ground his hips against hers, she fell into his rhythm, moaning. Unable to get close enough, her fingers fumbled with his laces and pushed his shirt off his shoulders. She couldn’t wait to feel his naked flesh against hers.

  “You are so comely, so desirable. You’re meant to be mine,” he murmured against her lips as his calloused thumbs grazed her heated flesh.

  With his help, she stepped out of her bloomers which were soaked with her moisture. Their musky scent permeated the room, intoxicating her. Consumed by a rampaging need she’d never before known, her thoughts were barely coherent. Only one remained, and she muttered it against the rapid-fire pulse in his neck, “Who are you?”

  He paused and stroked her damp hair away from her cheeks. “Your soul mate.” As she opened her mouth to demand his name, he swallowed her words with a soul-deep kiss.

  Lost in the sensations sweeping through her, she melted into his kiss. She insinuated her hand between their closely pressed bodies, wrapped her fingers around his velvety cock and gently pumped. She ran the tip of her thumb over the slick bulb and spread his juices down his hard length.

  Meanwhile, he rubbed his thumb over the bud of her clit driving her insane with longing. They swayed together until her knees threatened to buckle, and he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Reverently, his face still in shadow, he laid her on her mattress and gazed down at her.

  Then he climbed on the bed and straddled her face. As the mattress depressed with his weight, he teasingly rubbed his cock across her lips. As if being summoned by a magical spell, she flicked her tongue down the front of his cock then up the back. Greedy for more, she took him deeper into her mouth, savouring him. While one hand pumped the base of his cock, she seductively drew her finger along his sac.

  “What a lively lass you are.” He pumped into her mouth, gently at first then with increasing vigour.

  On fire and ravenous to taste his seed, she milked him.

  He pulled out and slid down her length. His cock slid down her breast, her stomach then buried itself deep in her pussy.

  She screamed and arched her hips off the bed, meeting him thrust for wild thrust. His every touch stoked the flames licking her veins and building in her core. Thirsty for a taste of his life’s force, her fangs burst through her gums. In readiness to sink them into his heady flesh, she licked his neck, preparing it with her saliva. She wanted this night to be perfect.

  Passion carried her high, and she sank her fangs into his neck as waves of rapture stormed over her. Her pussy clenched around his girth, and she ground her hips against him uniting them, body and soul.

  After drinking her fill, finally sated, she sealed his wound. Flinging back her head, she howled in victory.

  Only when she looked back did her lover’s face come into focus.

  Nikolai’s face.

  Her eyes widened. Her heart stopped. The fire inside her died a sudden, cruel death.

  “Oh my God…”

  She’d sired him. She sank into a bone chilling morass and cried deep into her soul. Her obsession had done this. Her father had given wise counsel. Now Earth’s destruction was on her head.

  Chapter Three

  Kes awoke with a scream. She was clammy all over, her fingernails ripped at her flesh, she bolted up in her bed and fiercely hugged herself. “No!” she screamed at the top of her lungs in terror. “Not Nikolai!”

  Her breath rasped in her throat. Her skin was sweaty with her perspiration and she shivered. Her sheets were permeated with a musky odour and her pussy was soaked.

  She thoroughly checked out the room to make sure she was in her chamber.

  To her immense relief she was alone.

  She ran the tip of her tongue across her lips, and to her added relief, she found no trace of blood.

  On a ravaged breath, she whispered, “It was just a nightmare.” But it was unlike any previous one. It had been so real she prayed she hadn’t astral projected into Nikolai’s dreams.

  Why would she do that? Why would she take him to her bed even there?

  Try as hard as she could, she couldn’t come up with an answer that met her satisfaction.

  Was this a revelation? Not a dream at all?

  No!

  She would never take Nikolai to her bed. He was not her soul mate!

  Disgusted with the vile thought, she spat. “I’d rather die than take that monster as my lover.”

  But her traitorous flesh tingled with the memory of his touch and seductive kiss.

  “It was just a dream.” The dream lover could have been someone else. From what little she knew of dreams, they were a montage of images. Perhaps Nikolai’s face had only come at the finale, and he was not her lover.

  Her door burst wide, and her parents rushed in. Her father’s eyes glowed red, and his fangs were fully protruded. “Are you okay? Why were you screaming?”

  Embarrassed, there was no way she’d admit her shameful dream. She veiled her eyes, afraid he’d read her deception. “I had a very vivid nightmare. There is no cause for alarm.”

  Her parents exchanged a worried look, and her mother put her arm about Kes’ shoulder and asked, “How vivid?”

  Kes shrugged away. She hated to be questioned. “Quite.”

  Zanna motioned for Dmitri to leave. Then she pulled Kes to the bed and sat. “So vivid you could have astral projected?”

  “No!” the answer burst from Kes’ lips. She could not, would not allow herself to believe she’d so much as kiss Nikolai, even in her dreams.

  “Are you sure? Have you ever done so?”

  Kes
caught herself worrying her lower lip and stopped. “How would I know an astral projection from a dream?” The words slurred on her lips, and she didn’t appreciate the sound.

  Zanna turned to her, her lips white. “It’s when a vampire puts herself into another person’s dreams to interact with them while they’re sleeping. Her mind and her essence travel to the other place.”

  Shocked, Kes stared at her mother. “Is that truly possible?”

  She surely hadn’t visited Nikolai on purpose. The memories of being with him made her quiver, and she was shamed.

  “Quite.”

  Why would she initiate romance with the demon? Why now when she never had before? Didn’t she have to consciously want to do so?

  Briskly, she rubbed her arms and looked at Zanna. “Have you?”

  “Your father projected into my dreams before he made me into a vampire. I’ve never done it. I’ve never had need to.”

  Kes digested this news. She’d never put herself in Nikolai’s arms, never put her lips to his.

  Despite the way he made her quiver…

  Her eyes widened. He hadn’t made her quiver with desire. He’d made her shake with anger. She detested him!

  The more she tried to convince herself, the more she trembled.

  She couldn’t allow herself to fall in love—not even lust—with the fiend.

  Defiant more than truthfully, she said, “I haven’t either.”

  She hoped.

  Zanna nodded, hugged her and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Get some rest. Sundown won’t arrive for several hours.”

  Kes nodded but didn’t fall directly back to sleep. Her mind was too busy. If she could astral project to make love, could she astral project in order to murder her enemy?

  She wondered how to astral project on command.

  * * * *

  Nikolai awoke smiling from another vivid dream with the vampiress. He quaked not with fear or trepidation but with yearning for carnal cravings.

  He whistled low under his breath, wondering how he could be so possessed. The woman most assuredly haunted him. He hoped it was merely a dream. This vision had felt much more real than anything he’d previously experienced. Not only had it felt more genuine, but he’d awoken bathed in a musky perspiration.

  He sluiced off his night sweat then mused to Robert as he dressed, “What do you know about vampires?”

  Robert scowled and bent his head. “Enough to know not even to speak their names. They’re a dodgy breed. It is said they can read minds. They are damned to walk the earth undead. They’re frightful creatures,” he whispered, as he mopped perspiration from his brow.

  Nikolai had heard similar whisperings but hungered for more knowledge about the woman and her kind. He’d never been so enthralled. “Can they penetrate our dreams?”

  Robert’s eyes widened, and he rubbed his arms. “Perchance. They are capable of all manner of unspeakable evil. Why would you ask?”

  Nikolai wasn’t ready to share, not even with his father figure. “I’ve been hearing whisperings of legends. Just in case, I want you to find out all you can by dusk this e’en.”

  Robert’s face grew blustery. “Pray, milord, this e’en is too soon to possibly gather information…”

  Nikolai stifled a sigh. He was sure someone had information about the vampires. Gossip aplenty filled his castle. “See what you can do.”

  Robert looked as if he were schooling his features as he bowed from the room. “Aye, milord.”

  Nikolai was glad to be rid of his groom. He didn’t need the baggage. The old man would only hold him back, both with his slowness and his babble.

  Although Nikolai had never been into the village of the strange ones at the far reaches of the territory, he knew the way without fail. He’d long been curious about the remote settlement just beyond the northern boundaries of his keep. Although he’d ne’er thought of himself as superstitious like the old crones, he’d held a healthy respect for their privacy.

  After checking on the young lad’s progress and ascertaining that he hadn’t only made it through the night but was thriving after being plied with a few decent meals and the barber’s poultices, Nikolai slipped away without the encumbrance of his guard. With single-mindedness, he set out to find out if his dream lover had been more than a figment of the night time.

  He could not forget her lustrous touch, her intoxicating kiss nor the wanton way she made love. How could he forget such a lover? None other had elicited such yearnings.

  He wanted her with a fervour he knew to be unhealthy but could not vanquish.

  Worse, he feared he was fast becoming obsessed with the unearthly beauty. Her kiss was a craving he couldn’t conquer. He feared his eternal soul lie in peril.

  He wondered that he wasn’t petrified, that he didn’t turn back, but he was drawn to her as if the siren called to him, as if an invisible chain pulled him.

  He could still taste her, was still warmed by her moist folds. Wanting to be buried in her pussy again, his cock bulged uncomfortably in his pants, and he shifted in his saddle trying in vain to find a comfortable position.

  A snarl twitched on his lips. The only comfortable position would be deep inside her.

  He’d an inkling that was the only place he truly belonged.

  Bemused with the direction of his fanciful thoughts, he shook his head. He could not remember the last time he’d been taken with a maiden. Then again, he’d never before laid eyes on one so fair or so fascinating.

  He wondered why she’d been so menacing. He wondered if she intended to make him her mate for life, or rather, for her undeath. Oh, he’d heard some of the stories. He wasn’t deaf.

  Before laying eyes on her, he’d thought her kind to be fiendish, an undesirable species spawned of Satan to be left alone lest they unleash their fury.

  Was that what was happening now? Had something happened to loose their bloodlust? If so, why had the other one stopped her? Why had they only come after him?

  He could not come up with a good reason, but he was determined to unravel the mystery and find the woman of his inexplicable dreams.

  When he arrived at the boundary of his property, he tied Kelvyn to a sturdy tree and crept forward on foot, keeping low to the grounds and staying in the shadows. When he reached the village, he wondered why he’d bothered. Except for a few animals, the town was forsaken. Not a soul wandered the streets, not a person inhabited the shops. Not even the breeze stirred.

  He was surprised to find a quaint community of honey-coloured limestone with a network of footpaths between houses and the village green. Unlike most villages of his acquaintances there was no inn, church, stable or farmer’s market was in sight. Nor did he spot a graveyard or as much as a single grave. He wondered where the populace traded their food, where they buried their dead and how they got around.

  He peeked inside a window, but it was blacked out, and he could see nothing. He tried a door, but it was locked. Starting to feel as if his mission had been in vain, he ran his fingers through his hair and muttered under his breath. Where were all the townspeople? Had they abandoned the village and if so, why? Had a plague swept through? Or were they gypsies who got the wanderlust?

  Were the legends right? Did the inhabitants only come out at night? Spooked, he found a hiding place within a grove of trees, hunkered down and waited for the moon to push through the clouds.

  He wasn’t disappointed. Once the moon had marshalled the sun out of the sky, the town awoke. People emerged and moved about silently and purposefully.

  They were a strange bunch, wearing strange garb. Most of the women wore their hair shorn short and were dressed in masculine gear. When a man strolled by close, Nikolai held his breath.

  Dread filled him as the man stopped, turned then ventured closer. One of the gossips claimed the inhabitants of this town could smell blood while still inside the body, that they could hear beating hearts. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop his heart from hammering. It sped faster, beat
harder and pounded like drums in his ears. Silently, he cursed himself for his fear. The man could probably smell that, too. Instinctively, Nikolai knew they would hear him if he moved, and they would catch him if he ran.

  He huddled smaller and did his best not to move or breathe, hoping the man would pass by.

  But the man paused, sniffed the air and scowled. Then he turned and peered into the grove as if he could see straight into his soul. “Sire, you diseased bull’s pizzle. I smell your vile stench. I know you’re in there,” the man muttered in a humming intonation.

  “Sire?” Nikolai didn’t see anyone else. They were alone unless someone was invisible or he spoke to some other form of life.

  The man, a formidable looking opponent with a furrowed brow and shoulders broad as the finest knight’s stepped into the grove. Sharp, pointy teeth protruded from his lips. His eyes emanated with such heat they glowed red and bore into him.

  Nikolai’s pulse raced, and his feet itched to flee. His heart was about to explode from his chest, and he leapt up to run.

  With leonine grace, the other man pounced on him and pinned him to the ground. “What are you doing here?’

  Rocks and twigs stabbed him in the back, all the more sharp with the man’s weight pressing him hard into the earth’s floor. Nikolai knew it would be suicide to admit he looked for the beautiful young maiden. “I lost my way, and since I didn’t see an inn or anything open, I thought I would bed in here for the night.”

  “You lie, Nikolai. I know you too well.” The man let out a hiss as he wrapped his hands around Nikolai’s throat and squeezed suggestively.

  Stunned, Nikolai gaped at his attacker. “How do you know my name?” This wasn’t one of his serfs or another feudal lord. He experienced not a scrap of recognition.

  The man’s breath scorched Nikolai’s face as he bent close enough Nikolai could smell his breath, could feel him quake with fury. “You made me what I am. Then you tried to kill me—several times. You thought you’d succeeded, but surprise. Here I am.”

 

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