Little bursts of hot air from her parted lips tickled his ear during every flick of his tongue up her neck and across her chin to her lips. If he could make her as disoriented and confused as he felt by their nearness, he would be able to stay in control.
“You want me, Hayley Thomas?”
She nodded and raised her mouth to his, but he pushed her back. He wanted her first step toward damnation in words.
“No, you have to tell me what you want.”
With her pupils dilated, she took on a wild, intense look, but she shook her head in denial.
God, You know I love a challenge. Dante laughed and traced the edge of her lips with his tongue. His hips rotated against her. The smell of her arousal rose between them. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
His engorged cock slid over her clit through the material of their clothing. With satisfaction, he watched her eyes close in pleasure.
“K-Kiss me.”
The words sounded like they were dragged through clenched teeth, but Dante had what he wanted. Her surrender. His mouth found hers with a fierceness he couldn’t contain. Teeth clashed and bit. Lips suckled and nipped. The need to possess her, completely, drove him. He raised his head to see her face.
The change in her caused his power to shift toward her again. Hair tangled around the pillows beneath her head, and her pale skin flushed with excitement. Delicate hands clutched his upper arms to pull him closer. Soft, feminine hips arched into his. The conservative librarian from earlier had disappeared. Her fear and reservations had evaporated for the moment into pure hedonistic desire.
No, her mind and body wouldn’t be enough. He wanted her soul. His gums tingled with all the incentive he needed. A stab of pain signaled the elongation of his incisors. His fingers grasped her chin and forced her head to angle away so he could locate her jugular. Dante positioned himself to taste her soul. His fangs extended to their full length.
“Oh, my God.” She stiffened. The arms that had clutched him to her body a moment ago lashed out and tried to push him away.
He hadn’t expected her to be so strong for such a slender girl. He tightened his grip, but she wedged her knee between them and kicked. Taken by surprise, he tumbled to the floor. Her sudden rejection didn’t make sense. He felt her desire.
Anger and confusion washed over him, but in the background, admiration grew for this small creature who dared to refuse him. No one had ever denied him in his own realm. That only happened on earth. The conflict of emotions seared through his groin with a pain too intense to ignore. He doubled over.
“You’re a vampire!” Hayley backed into the corner of the sofa, knees drawn to her chin. The paramount need to escape intensified, but she didn’t know if her legs would support her to the door. She scanned the room for some kind of weapon.
A miniature statue rested on the shelf closest to her. She glanced back at Dante, still on the floor, but too close. He could grab her before she reached the door. Her gaze slid from the door to the man on his hands and knees with his head bowed. She frowned, then leaned forward.
Gosh, she hadn’t meant to hurt him that bad, just get him off of her. Her hand reached for his shoulder, but drew back. “Hey, are you okay?”
He lifted his face to her with an expression contorted with pain and anger. Eyes flashed iridescent like the wings of a dragonfly. She jerked back at the murderous look he shot her.
“Yeah.” He grimaced. “Peachy.” He pushed one knee up and sat back on his other foot. The sharp intake of air and his sudden pallor didn’t escape her.
“You ... don’t ... look fine.”
“No thanks to you.”
Hayley bit her lip, sure he would beat the shit out of her. What had he expected her to do when he produced fangs, for goodness’ sake? She shuddered and leaned her head to the side to see the two-inch spikes, but they were gone. Curiosity overtook fear. “Are they real?”
Maybe he had slipped them on and off without her seeing him. She had heard of clubs where the patrons pretended to be vampires. Maybe this kind of foreplay happened all the time. She took a slow breath and pushed the hair out of her face. Her hands shook so hard, she had to cross her arms and hug herself.
Her imagination had taken flight for a few seconds, like when she had been a kid and watched too many scary movies. Vampires and werewolves weren’t real. They were a figment of her imagin--
“The fangs are real.”
She looked into eyes, now black, and felt the blood rush from her head. There was no humor in their depths. He really thought he was a vampire? She swallowed against the lump in her throat, eased her weight off the sofa, and took a step toward the door.
“Well, this has been fun, but I think I need to get going.”
A hand shot forward and circled her wrist.
She yelped.
With one powerful tug from him, she found herself back in the spot she’d stood seconds before. The frisson from his touch shocked her more than her impeded progress to ultimate freedom from this loony bin.
“You can’t leave.” His voice sounded deeper.
“I have to go.” She twisted her wrist, trying to break his hold. “My friend ... will be worried.”
“Your friend is --” He turned his head at an angle and glanced toward the opposite wall, as if he could see through the structure, and grinned. “-- occupied.” His fingers loosened their grip enough to stroke the inside of her forearm.
Waves of pleasure rippled across her skin. Her nipples tightened, and the muscles around her clit quivered with a flood of moisture. She turned her head when he leaned closer. She’d liked those kisses a little too much earlier.
“Don’t tell me you don’t like what I make you feel, Hayley.” His tongue circled her earlobe, while his free hand caressed her hip. “I can smell desire all over you.”
“Uh, you kiss very nice, but the fangs are a bit much.” She couldn’t ignore the longing, but she had to deny what her treacherous body wanted. Hayley moved toward the door again. His grip tightened, and she gasped when she felt his fingernails bite into the soft skin of her arm. Funny, she hadn’t remembered them being that long -- she looked down again -- or black.
“You don’t understand.” He leaned forward, his breath a whisper across her face. A look of sadness pierced his gaze.
Hayley froze in her attempt to break free.
“You cannot leave. Once a person steps past the gate, they become a part of my domain. You become mine --” He kissed her forehead. “-- to do with as I please.”
Hayley jerked her arm free. He was certifiable. Each breath she took burned. She shook her head, hysteria rising into her throat, choking her. His voice sounded soft and coaxing, but his words scared the living daylights out of her. Her head moved so her vision took in the entire room. In the bright light, Dante’s office resembled a vault, and she felt the walls slowly closing around her.
This whole place is crazy. She had to get out of here. She ran for the door.
“You chose to come past the gate of your own free will.”
Heavy wood creaked in protest. She forced a crack open in the doorway. Heavy-metal music blasted through before a larger hand applied pressure and her escape evaporated. The music was obliterated into silence once again. A whimper escaped her throat.
“Very few humans do that.” He nibbled her earlobe with sharp teeth. “You should have stayed in the front part of the club with the clean souls.”
“No!” She beat her palm against the barrier, but no one could hear her.
“Shhh.” Strong arms wrapped around her, and his heat emanated in a cocoon of warmth. His hold increased, but she didn’t feel pain. Only wave after wave of pleasure. “I haven’t wanted a woman this way in a long time. Let me show you how it will be with us.”
Her breasts pressed against the wood; her nipples hardened against the coolness. The erratic thump of his heart pulsed through the material of her sweater, while his breath tickled her ear.
Hayley exp
erienced the falling sensation she’d had when she’d first seen him. She could feel him invade her mind. The image of bodies swirled together, then apart, but never far. This time the vision took shape.
A man and a woman, naked, came together in sex, but not long enough to fulfill their desire. Their bodies were prevented from the final climax. The agony of their never-ending passion revealed both pleasure and pain, but the love they had for each other lay evident on their strained faces.
“This is Paolo and Francesca.” His words whispered into her ear, drawing her further into the illusion. “Look at the need and desire they have for each other but cannot fulfill.” His hand moved to her hip and pulled her closer into the curve of his body. “I’ll meet your every need and desire, Hayley. I will not leave you frustrated.”
A low moan escaped her lips. She couldn’t move, or breathe. She wanted what he promised, but Dante could be some serial killer who drugged his victims, raped them, and cut their throats in some sick game to prove himself a vampire.
His grip tightened, and he gave her a little shake. “I’m not a vampire.” His voice sounded rough in her ear and full of anger.
God, he could read her thoughts!
His fingers tunneled into her hair to pull the strands away from her neck. “I’m something much worse.” He kissed her. “I can give you pleasure, or, if you resist initiation, I will give you pain until you beg me to take you.”
The skin over her jugular tingled.
“I can make this easier for you.” His tongue swirled over her neck.
A sob rose in her throat, and a bead of perspiration pooled between her breasts. The sound of their heartbeats blended to form tympani, echoing in her ears. The need to roll her head back and beg him to puncture her, to relieve the painful throb in her veins and her groin, grew. She bit her lip. She had to fight the intensity of his will.
He turned her in his arms, but she shifted her shoulders, throwing his hands off.
“W-What do you want?” She stepped sideways with her back against the door. “Why are you doing this to me?”
His lips twitched, the hint of a smile evident at the same time his eyebrow rose. His forefinger followed the line of his vision, tracing her jaw to the edge of her mouth. She jerked her head back against the hard wood of the door.
“Those are the rules. All souls have to serve purgatory until it’s time to be reincarnated.” He moved away from her to sit behind his desk. He raised a hand to the door. The action was tired and weary, as if he’d seen everything life had to offer, good and bad, and didn’t have the heart to explore either concept any longer.
“Go, if you want, but you will not be allowed to pass over the gate to the outside.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hayley waved her hands in the air. “Gates, freewill, fangs.” She stomped her foot. “Are you so psycho you think we’re all dead and this is Purgatory?”
Her hand covered her mouth. She waited for him to jump across the desk and kill her. Mentally ill people didn’t like being told they were crazy. He didn’t move. He sat still as a statue, and his eyes glittered with the strange iridescent lights from before.
Hayley wondered if the phenomenon happened when he was upset. Or excited. She tightened her thigh muscles at the memory of his powerful erection pressed against the core of her body and, again, against the small of her back, their only barrier a few thin layers of cloth.
Fuck, she liked to flirt with danger. Dante held himself rigid. The urge to climb across his desk and show her how crazy he could be boiled through his blood. He fought the lack of control that made him want to strip her clothes and feel the softness of her skin against his. The less control he had, the more the demon would gain.
His fingers gripped the desk tighter, and his gums tingled from the thought of his fangs in her neck. He craved the taste of her blood. Her soul. His cock throbbed with the need for her sex. He closed his eyes against the sensation.
Sex and ecstasy entwined with such subtlety in this place of darkness. The release another’s lifeblood offered was the only true relief he gained from this existence of day to day, year to year, century to century. But it had been so long since he had allowed himself even that pleasure.
Wood creaked and snapped. Dante looked down to see the result of his frustration and her denial. Splinters from his desk lay scattered in his hands and lap.
When he glanced at Hayley, her face had grown paler. He sighed and brushed a hand across his eyes. He could force her to submit to him, but that wasn’t what he wanted. What he wanted was -- he sighed -- of no consequence.
“You better run before I do something you would regret.”
He rotated the chair so his back faced her. If he kept her in his vision, he wouldn’t be able to do what he knew was right. Greed and desire would win over his better self. He laughed, the sound bitter. No one, including himself, would believe his being might have a better half. He was what he was.
“I’ll speak to the Keeper and find out why you were allowed to pass the gate.”
Dammit. It was Talos’s job to prevent screw-ups like this. He frowned. He didn’t want to say the words, but did. “You don’t belong here.”
There was no response except the sound of the door opening to signal her departure. Music pulsed like blood in his veins, loud and evocative to match the heightened frenzy of the crowd. The beat invited the numerous souls gathered to participate in every form of hedonistic pleasure they had been sentenced to enjoy for all eternity. For most, Dante knew firsthand, the pleasure no longer existed. Only pain.
The noise disappeared, muffled by the closing of the door. He leaned forward and turned the light off with a click, which echoed through the room. Darkness closed around him. He was alone. Again.
Chapter Three
Jay danced and turned with Olga through the crowd of sweaty bodies. A man with a green-painted torso bumped into him. “Hey, watch it, fella.”
The man turned to Jay, his eyes red-rimmed, his face devoid of any enjoyment. Jay frowned. His focus on Olga and her sister evaporated. His step faltered as he looked closer at the people around him. They weren’t happy.
He turned to his right. Two women swung their hips to the beat, sensuous and alluring, their movements an invitation to anyone nearby, but their faces were tight with what looked like exhaustion, or ... pain.
Jay turned slowly and studied the club’s patrons, all alike. Gooseflesh skittered over his skin. He rubbed his arms. This wasn’t right. They should be happy, excited. Even the music had an eerie quality he hadn’t noticed before. He angled his head. The musicians sounded off-key, like they hit the wrong notes or the instruments weren’t tuned.
Olga touched his hand, but he refused to look at her. He didn’t want to see the same look of drudgery on her beautiful face. With a quick move, she stepped into his line of vision, a smile curving her lips. “Vhat is zee matter, Jay?”
He shook his head and forced his eyes closed. He couldn’t express the relief he felt. If he tried, she would think him weird. For a second the illusion of a veil being lifted from his vision had assailed his senses. He’d been seeing things. He pulled her against him. “Are you as excited as I am, Olga?”
“Yes, darling. Zee second I saw you, I knew tonight vould be unforgettable.”
He sighed. His imagination was working overtime. The unknown drink must have been stronger than he’d realized. His cock tingled with fire and the need to get this bitch alone. She looked like she could handle his desire to play rough. On impulse, he leaned forward and kissed her red lips.
“Let’s go play with Helga.”
* * * * *
Hayley shoved twin Amazons from her path. No way would this place pass any of the city’s fire codes. The main exit, any exit, couldn’t be located. Where was that gate thingy, with the gold bouncer, they’d passed through when they’d come in? She turned her head to the left, then back to the right. Someone bumped into her from behind. She staggered forw
ard a couple of steps.
“Sorry, Mistress.” A man reached out to steady her, but claws scraped through the material of her sweater.
She turned and narrowed her gaze on a guy in a werewolf costume. “That’s okay.”
Someone bumped her from behind, pushing her into the dog-man’s arms. Up close, the mask appeared even more realistic, with yellowed fangs and a tongue dripping with saliva.
“Where did you guys find your costumes?” Hayley shook her head, the anger she’d experienced forgotten at the realistic design of his mask. The werewolf cocked his head to the side, just like a dog, but didn’t answer for several seconds. His eyes looked puzzled at her question.
“I’ve been ... this way ... for a long time, Mistress.”
That was the second time he’d called her by that title. Hayley took a deep breath, counted to ten, then squeezed through the mass. For every three steps forward, the crowd pushed her back one. The authorities would be ecstatic to know about Dante’s little club. There were too many people packed into the building. When they’d arrived, the old warehouse had looked huge.
Her steps slowed, and she focused on the walls, which had shrunk inward since they’d come inside. Impossible. She squared her shoulders and pushed ahead. An eight-foot speaker loomed to her right, and she had to cover her ears. The noise vibrated through her mind with such an extreme thud, she couldn’t hear herself think. Mayhem at its worst. Stumbling in front of a fan, she inhaled a deep breath of cooler air, but her lungs filled with a stale, musky odor, forcing her to cough.
My God, what happened to the air conditioning? The front of her sweater lay plastered against her damp skin, itchy and uncomfortable. The heat in the club had risen at least twenty degrees since she’d entered. She’d almost welcome the blast of freezing air from the entrance.
A half-naked couple twisted together in near copulation, knocking her into a stone wall. As careful as possible, not wanting to touch anyone else, she eased down the length of the wall until she found herself by a bar.
Hot House: Dante and Hayley Page 3