by Myla Jackson
A man’s chuckle sounded behind her. “You heard the woman. She wants it all.”
“Yuri?” The strange woman’s voice asked, “What do you want?”
A growl was her only answer. The dark man’s body lurched upward, something holding him back from Reggie.
The shadow woman chuckled. “Okay, okay, just don’t yell at me when she snaps out of it.” Slender hands circled Reggie’s hips, searching for the button to her jeans.
Reggie sighed. “Yes, yes. Take them.” She wiggled her way free of the jeans as the hands tugged them down her legs and past her ankles. Her panties went next, soft fingers brushing against her skin, her desire spiking with the intimacy.
“Let go of me,” the man lying against her side muttered. “How is this helping?”
“You haven’t killed her yet, have you?” the other male responded.
Too caught up in her dream, Reggie refused to open her eyes until she’d gotten what she came for. The other two people in the shadows were distracting her from her desire. “You two talk too much.”
Naked, her blood raging through her veins, Reggie rolled over, her breasts smashing against the dark one’s bare chest, her mouth seeking his. He tasted sweet and tangy. His lips full and warm beneath hers. Instead of the kiss satisfying her lust, it made her want even more. She pushed him to his back and straddled his legs, her eyes still refusing to open even though her body felt wide awake and flaming. “Too many clothes,” she said against his mouth as her pussy rubbed against the fabric covering the hard ridge of his cock.
“She’s right.” Soft, delicate hands skimmed down over her back to her ass, the fingers following the line between her butt cheeks. “She’s very beautiful and her skin is like silk. If she wants him so badly, maybe we should let her have him,” the woman said.
As the delicate fingers found the little round opening of her anus, Reggie’s back arched, pressing her closer to the slim, cool hands. “You’re in my dream. Don’t tease.”
“As you wish.” The slim fingers traced a line around the tight opening and dipped in.
Reggie gasped into the dark one’s mouth, her lips skimming over long incisor teeth. What was this? She pulled back, but only for a moment.
The man beneath her pushed his hips up, grinding his cock against her cunt. “If you want me, you’ll have to take me,” he said, his voice strained, unnatural. Then he lifted his head, his tongue sweeping in to capture hers, swirling it around, redirecting her focus to his mouth while the woman’s finger gently slid in and out of Reggie’s ass.
“Yes,” Reggie moaned into his mouth. “Yes, must take more.” She shoved her hands between them, running her fingers across his chest, sparsely sprinkled with coarse hairs. She traced a path of curls down his torso to his bellybutton and lower until the curls disappeared into the waistband of his trousers.
“This will never do,” she grumbled, sliding farther down his legs, the woman with the magical fingers moving along with her, her fingers, caressing her ass, moving closer to her heated core. Making quick work of the trousers’ button, she grasped the zipper and gently slid it downward. Unencumbered by briefs or boxers, his cock sprang free and into her waiting hands.
She grasped him and held on, willing her eyes to open to see his magnificence. How could this be a dream when it felt so real? And her usual fantasies included the visual. What was wrong with her eyes to cheat her out of the full effect?
The cock she held twitched, pulsing warmly, filling her palms. He pushed upward, sliding through her fingers.
Her hands slipped upward to the velvety tip and back down to the base where his balls nestled in a tangle of hair. Her dream guy groaned. “If you don’t stop now, I won’t be able to stop later. Wake up, pretty lady,” he said, his voice deep, tight and barely controlled.
“No,” she moaned. “I don’t want to wake up.” Where before she’d wanted to open her eyes, now she squeezed them shut, afraid if she opened them her dream would be over and she’d crash to earth into her cold, empty bed.
“Are you sure you have him? He can’t break free?” the other woman in the room asked urgently.
“I’ve got him. I won’t let go.”
“Let go of him.”
“Honey, he’s more man than you’re used to.”
“I want all of him.”
“If that’s what you want, it’s up to you.”
“Okay then.” Reggie lifted up on her knees over the dark one and guided his cock to her entrance. “Fuck me hard.” She slid down over him, sheathing him in her warm, slick wetness.
He was big, his penis stretching her inner channel so tightly she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t want to breathe any more than she wanted to open her eyes. It felt so good. She could die and never regret having had him.
Her thighs tensed and she slid up off his dick, all the way to the glorious, velvety tip.
His hips rose off the bed, pushing his cock up inside her, hard and fast.
“Touch me,” she demanded.
The man beneath her groaned. “I can’t. They won’t let my hands free.”
“For your own good, Yuri. For your own good.” The other man laughed. “You think it’s easy watching you fuck a beautiful woman while I hold your arms? I can’t even touch her or I might lose control just like you.”
“I can.” The woman’s hands were there, touching her breasts, smoothing down her belly to the thatch of hair over her mons.
“Thank heavens. I thought you two would never shut up.” Reggie’s nipples tightened, her pussy drenched in her juices, aiding the motion of the man pumping in and out of her.
The gentle fingers parted her folds and stroked the nubbin of sensitized skin between, swirling around and around.
“Yes. There.” Reggie tensed. The thrusting motion of the cock inside her and the fingers stroking her clit catapulted her over the edge of reason and sanity. Tingling started low in her belly and spread outward to every nerve ending in her body, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful.
The dark one surged upward one last time, shouting out loud, his voice husky, coarse, animalistic.
Reggie rode him, her muscles bunched, her tummy clenched until she collapsed, breathing hard, her body completely limp, consciousness fading fast. “Incredible,” she whispered into his chest, numb, exhausted, breathless.
The man jerked out of the hands holding him and sat up, taking her with him.
“Yuri,” a voice warned.
“I’m okay,” the dark one said. “You two can leave. I won’t hurt her.”
“Are you sure?” the woman asked.
“I’m sure.” His arms tightened around Reggie.
Why were they talking as if she wasn’t there? Reggie wanted to shout out loud, Hello. I’m here, this is my dream, you should at least act like you’re part of my thoughts.
The shadow woman sighed. “I was having fun.”
“Leave,” was the solid, quick response from the man still sunk deeply inside her.
Maybe it was better that she was asleep, or she might be mortified by her state of wanton desire and undress.
“We’ll go.” Two sets of footsteps faded away and a door closed with a soft snick.
Reggie balanced in the dark one’s lap, her breasts tickled by the hairs on his chest. Sitting up, lying down…it didn’t matter. She liked the feel of his skin against hers, his cock inside her, still hard, thick and filling. The light musky scent of his maleness assaulting her senses. She wanted to see him, to fill her visual senses as full as all her other senses were.
A kiss feathered across her lips and then words puffed against her ear. “You’re beautiful.”
“Are you?” Despite her new determination to keep her eyes closed and make the dream last all night long, her eyelids flickered open and she stared into the face of her rescuer from the alley. She definitely was dreaming.
“Am I dreaming?” she asked, her voice a whisper, tentative against the silence of the room, praying the a
nswer was yes.
He smiled, the twinkle in his eyes making him even more than devastatingly handsome. “You’re awake.”
She could fall into those mesmerizing eyes, and she swayed toward him, the incremental movement enough to establish her nudity, their intimate connection and the fact that this was not a dream.
His hands splayed across the skin of her lower back, holding her steady, the texture of his fingers pressing into her flesh, reassuring at the same time as it was unsettling.
As if she were still struggling out of the fog of sleep, she glanced down at her breasts. The rosy nipples were taut and pointed where they nestled in the dark curls sprinkled across his upper body.
“I must be dreaming,” she argued, feeling a frown pull her forehead downward. She glanced back up at him, tipping her head to the side. “I seem to have lost my shirt.”
He nodded toward the floor. “I had to cut it off you.”
“And the rest of my clothes?”
“That wasn’t completely my doing.”
Reggie shook her head. “I don’t understand.” Her hair brushed across her shoulders, the feel of it on her skin sending tingling nerve flashes downward where her bottom rested on his thighs. His cock twitched inside her.
Her eyes rounded, her heart skipping several beats before slamming against her ribs. “What have we done? What the hell’s going on?” She struggled to free her knees of the tangled sheets.
His fingers curled around her waist. “Slow down before you get hurt.”
Slapping at his hands, she rolled to the side and stood, searching for something to cover herself. She grabbed for a pillow and held it in front of her like a shield. “Who are you, and where am I?”
“I’m Yuri Kovak.” The sexy lilt of his words sounded Russian or Romanian. “I brought you to my apartment because you were wounded and in need of my assistance.”
Balancing the pillow against her breasts, she felt along her shoulder for the bullet wound and found nothing. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed there was no wound there as well, no sign of an entrance or exit wound. Her foot nudged the ruined black tank top on the floor. It was coated in dried blood. Her blood.
“How?” She stared across the bed at him, watching him wearily as he stood and carefully zipped his massive cock into his pants, the resulting tent almost comical if the entire situation wasn’t downright insane. What a shame to cover such magnificence. She inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ll ask again. What the hell’s going on?”
“First, tell me what you were doing out in that alley with the Dragóns chasing after you.”
She crossed her arms over the pillow and held it tight. “Why should I tell you?”
“It might help me to better explain my actions.”
“So you can lie better?”
“I would not lie to you, pretty lady.” He frowned. “Have you a name? I can’t continue to call you pretty lady, although the truth is evident.” His gaze scraped over the tops of her shoulders and the pillow she held in her arms. “It’s only right to know the name of the woman who just shared my bed.”
“I didn’t share your bed.” Anger fueled her words. “You kidnapped me and drugged me or something.”
“I did what I had to do to protect you. The rest was your idea.” He shrugged as if his crimes meant nothing. “Your name?”
She thought to refuse answering him, but what did it matter if he knew her name or not? “Regina Gallagher.”
“Regina.” Her name rolled off his tongue like a caress and tingles slithered across her skin despite the shock of the uncompromising position she’d found herself in.
“Most people call me Reggie.” Why was she telling him this? Had she lost her senses? She couldn’t even blame it on her thoughts still being fuzzy. Her head was clear, and her mind raced through possible scenarios for escape.
“Why would they call you Reggie when Regina is such a lovely name?”
“Whatever.” She eyed the door, determined to get out of there yet too curious to leave. “I answered your question. Why don’t you answer mine?”
“Fair enough.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Why did you really bring me here?”
“I told you already.” He walked around the end of the bed to stand in front of her, effectively blocking her escape route. “You were injured and needed attention.”
She hadn’t mistaken the slight pause before the word “attention”. “Impossible. If I had been injured, there would be signs of a wound still. Nobody heals that fast.” As she said the words, she glanced again at her ruined top.
“Ah, but you see the blood, do you not?” He’d caught her glancing down.
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“When you came into this room, you had a bullet wound in your left shoulder.” His gaze captured hers and held.
“Just how long ago was that?”
He glanced down at his watch. “One hour.”
“But if I was wounded, where is the wound? This whole situation doesn’t make sense.” Her gaze strayed to the rumpled sheets on the bed. “No sense whatsoever.”
“We can talk when you’re properly dressed.” He sighed and turned toward the closet, reaching in for a plain white pinpoint oxford cloth shirt. When he turned back to hand it to her, he said, “I have the ability to heal some wounds.”
“Like magic or something?” Reggie snorted. “The only people I know who can heal a wound that fast are—” All the blood rushed out of her head, and she remembered her last thought before she’d passed out earlier. “Oh damn! I just fucked a vampire.”
Chapter Four
Yuri thought she might pass out when her cheeks turned a pasty gray. Just as quickly as they’d gone pale, they burst into a raging red.
“No fucking way!” she said.
He grimaced. “Do you always use such colorful language?”
“If you find my language offensive, tough.”
“Actually…” He studied her closely. “It reminds me of the possibilities.”
“It’s not even a remote possibility because first chance I get I’m going to stake your sorry vampire ass!” Her gaze darted around the room as if she were looking for the wooden stake to carry through on her promise.
“If you plan to kill me, you’ll have to drive a stake into my heart not my buttocks.” His lips twitched as he fought to contain the smile threatening to break loose. He shook the shirt in front of her face. “Please put this on. I find your breasts very lovely and distracting.”
She slapped his hand away and almost dropped the pillow in the process, one side dropping low enough to expose her peachy nipple.
Yuri’s cock nudged against his pants, reminding him of the tasty treat he’d partaken of, bringing him back to full-alert status, and he’d pay for that in pain until his arousal subsided. If she kept dropping the pillow, that would be a while. “Put the shirt on,” he said, his voice more harsh than he’d intended.
“I don’t want your damn shirt, your healing or anything else from you. Just let me out of here.” She tried to step around him.
His hands reached out and clamped onto her bare shoulders, the warmth of her skin sending heat waves rippling through him, keeping his erection in the constant state of granite. He let go and stepped back, but not out of her way. “I can’t let you leave. It’s not safe.”
“Why?” She stared up into his eyes, hers widening and her mouth dropping open. “You didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?”
She rushed to the mirror hanging over the mahogany dresser. Stretching her neck to the side, she pushed her long red hair back to expose the white column of her throat. “If you can heal wounds, how do I know you didn’t bite me and turn me into one of your stinking kind?”
“I didn’t turn you, and we don’t stink unless we choose to.”
“Bull!”
“You didn’t seem to mind my scent before you were fully awake. You liked a lot of things
about me while you thought you were asleep.”
“I’m talking about what you’ve done to me. If you’ve made me a vampire, I’ll kill you.” She turned and shot him a look of pure venom. “And when I do, I’ll make it slow and painful.”
“Step outside when the sun comes up, you’ll know the truth then.” He nodded toward the window. The heavy drapes pulled to the side allowed a stunning view of the city below. The clouds hung low over the city, reflecting the glow of streetlights, making it that much brighter in the darkest hours of early morning.
“I will,” she said, again eyeing the door. “If you’ll just let me by…”
“You can’t leave until morning.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Cesar’s Dragóns are still roaming the streets as well as other less-agreeable people.”
“People like you?”
“I’m not here to harm humans.” He sighed. “I came to help.”
“Help?” Reggie snorted. “Help yourself to a woman alone in the night? If that’s the case, I’m here to stop you and every other bloodsucker I can lay a stake into.”
“Big words for just one woman. How do you propose to take out the entire population of vampires?”
“One vamp at a time, buddy. One vamp at a time.” She reached behind her and jerked a drawer from the dresser. With one hand holding the pillow, the other swung the drawer against a doorframe, splintering it into pieces, one of which was sharp and long enough to pierce his heart. “Starting with you.”
Yuri shook his head. “How can I convince you that I’m one of the good guys?”
“Seems the only way you’ll convince me is by letting me stake you through the heart.” She advanced on him, the stick pointed at his chest.
“Need more help in there?” Torsten’s amused voice called out.
“No. Everything is under control,” Yuri said, never taking his gaze away from Reggie’s. He could always put her back in a trance, but this was much more interesting. He hadn’t felt this alive facing the possibility of death at the hand and stake of a beautiful woman in a long time. Perhaps never.