Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1

by Gayle Parness

  Mack took in a deep breath, watching their eyes move lower. Although popular culture believed vampires always went for the throat, in these sexually charged situations, they preferred to take blood from the breasts of their female victims or sometimes the inner thigh.

  “Are you hungry, Signorina?” Giovanni certainly seemed to be.

  “No, thank you.”

  “Then I shall ask you to please turn in place. Slowly. Paulo and I would like to look at you.” His friend Paulo said something in Italian. “Put your hair up, please. Your neck and your breasts are quite lovely.”

  Mack changed his hair with a thought, beginning to turn, hands balled at his sides. He was furious to be put in this degrading situation, only it wasn’t really him on display. This kind of humiliation was common for actors in every troupe. Worse things would follow. How could he have disregarded this crap for so many years?

  Every actor in his troupe had suffered some form of degradation. No more. Now was the time to trust Ingrid and take a leap of faith. He would make them believe they were feeding on her. He pulled in axis to fuel his psycore, spinning a fantasy that would satisfy these two predators, but still keep Ingrid safe.

  The vampires’ eyes widened when he pushed into their minds, their bodies rigid with shock. Projecting a tale of their fangs piercing Ingrid’s skin, Mack grew disgusted by his own vivid imagination. He realized his mistake too late.

  Giovanni and Paolo would know they hadn’t fed as soon as he released their minds. Theta blood boosted a vampire’s powers. The fantasy blood that Mack was projecting wouldn’t give Giovanni or Paolo the rush they were used to feeling in the real world. Mack’s face tightened into a scowl, puzzling out this unexpected snag. He couldn’t’ kill them, even though it would’ve been a great pleasure to rip their heads from their necks. How many other young thetas or humans had they raped?

  There was no other option but to give them a taste. Resigned to his fate, he sat between them on the couch and eased the vampires out of their fantasy. This would be tricky. Giovanni snapped out of it first, his smile rapturous. “Bellissima.” He looked Mack up and down. “Why did you put on your clothing? I am hard for you.” He unzipped his fly, pushing Mack’s head toward his crotch. “Suck me.”

  “Drink.” Mack pulled away, slicing open his own wrist with a sharpened nail and holding it under the nose of the vampire. Giovanni wouldn’t be able to resist the scent of theta blood, even though the blood would be his, and not Ingrid’s.

  The master vampire cradled Mack’s wrist, taking in a deep breath. “I will drink, child—,” his hand was suddenly clasped around Mack’s throat, “—but afterwards, you will kneel between my legs and take what I give you.”

  “Yes, sir.” Mack wanted to vomit.

  When Paolo opened his eyes, he pounced on Mack’s other wrist, tearing into the skin and taking huge pulls of blood. Their hunger was fierce, and Mack began to worry he might grow too weak to get away. “Enough. You’re full and you want to back off.”

  And they did, just as Ingrid had suspected. In their arrogance, they’d left their shields surprisingly weak. Elias wouldn’t have been so easy to overpower.

  Giovanni stood, pulling Mack up after him. “Your blood was delicious, but I ordered you to your knees to fellate me.”

  “I’d like to leave, sir.”

  The punch was landed perfectly; the sound of Mack’s nose breaking seeming much louder than he thought it should sound. But then, no one had ever broken his nose. Oh, he’d been beaten up as a kid in the institute, but once his professors had found out he was a strong axis magic wielder, he was pretty much left alone by the other students. The boys who’d hit him had either been rejected from the program and sold to other supernatural groups, or placed in troupes as actors, probably suffering more than he ever had. Today that thought brought him no comfort.

  Blood had splattered Mack’s chest and Giovanni’s shirt and was still dripping from his nose at a steady pace. Seeing and smelling it had the vampires on the verge of blood rage. Not good.

  “You’ll do what I tell you, bitch.” Giovanni was circling him.

  To prevent a second punch, Mack projected another fantasy, one where he knelt for both of the master vamps, satisfying them thoroughly.

  At this point, Mack was disgusted. “You’ve decided to take me downstairs to the garage and go back to the party.” Wincing his way through the back door of the limo, he collapsed on the seat, grateful those master pricks had obeyed him so easily, although he wished now that he’d hit them back.

  "What happened?"

  He raised his head and stared into the most beautiful gaze he’d ever encountered, Ingrid’s worried expression worth every twinge of pain. Imagining this lovely female sitting in his place, with her nose broken instead of his, had him seething. He should have fucking killed them. "I spun the vamps a fantasy, like you said we could; only I wanted them to have some real memories mixed in with the others, so you wouldn't get into trouble." He pulled away as she dabbed at his nose with a wad of tissues. "Ow."

  He morphed into himself, the transition doing nothing to heal his injury, which was throbbing badly. Ingrid held his chin between her fingers, tilting his head to get a better look at the break. "You're an adorable idiot, you know that?" Frowning, she grabbed ice out of the bucket, wrapped it in a napkin, and pressed it to his face. "They broke your nose. Your perfect nose." She was very careful with him, even though her whole body had tensed up with anger.

  "Wait...perfect? My nose is perfect?" Mack tried to smile, but it hurt too much.

  Helping him out of his blood soaked shirt, she left him in charge of the icepack for his nose and made up another one. "Well, it was," she teased. The new ice went on his blackening eye. “Thank the gods we heal quickly.” Mack’s nose would be normal in a few hours.

  "You're perfect." The words had popped out without forethought. Mack winced painfully, embarrassed.

  Ingrid stopped what she was doing. "Hardly."

  "Your mouth is perfect. Your mouth is all I dream about lately." Giving in to impulse, he stroked his finger across her bottom lip. It was soft and warm and he wanted to taste it.

  Ingrid giggled. “I’m not finished playing nurse.” Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she carefully continued to clean his face, her touch gentle against his skin. His nose didn't hurt at all anymore, and the feel of her hands on his face was heaven. However, blood was rushing to his cock at an alarming rate. Mack folded his hands into his lap and hoped she wouldn't look down.

  “I can be patient,” he whispered, although patience was the last thing his body wanted.

  She dabbed at his cheek, the corners of her mouth twitching. "What's my mouth doing, when you dream about it?"

  "All sorts of things." He took a quick glance out the window, wondering how fast Johnny could get them back to his house on Staten Island. They were already in Brooklyn on the Gowanus Expressway, but this conversation was heading in a dangerous direction.

  She placed the cloth in the trash, crawling into his lap, straddling his thighs and facing him. "Like this?" She pressed her chest against his, kissing his neck, trailing her lips up from the base of his throat to just below his ear. Ingrid’s hands squeezed his shoulders, her breath warm and delicious as it pulsed against his skin.

  "Yes." Mack found the hem of her dress, pushing it up her legs so he could rub his hands back and forth over the soft skin of her thighs. His heart was beating fast, his cock already throbbing painfully.

  "Maybe this?" She nibbled the lobe of his ear, stroking his chest with a splayed hand, pinching a nipple.

  “Keep doing that and I won’t be responsible for my actions,” he said hoarsely. Mack snaked a hand around her waist, resting it on her lower back and pressing her closer. He opened his thighs, opening hers even wider.

  She was breathing faster now. "What earth-shattering event would happen, if you chose not to be responsible, just this once?” she asked, her voice almost a purr.

&nbs
p; His lips wet her earlobe. “It could never be once with you, Ingrid.”

  “Connect to me.”

  And when he reached out with his axis, he dropped his shields, trusting Ingrid as he’d never done with anyone before her. She angled her mouth to meet his lips with hers, the first sensation setting off their strange magical harmony. He didn’t allow it to produce a raging need, as he would have if he’d been home in bed, her body beneath his. Instead, he conjured it into a blanket of sensual sensation, a dozen hands caressing their bodies.

  “That feels so good.” She arched into him,

  Ingrid’s kiss tasted sweet, a teasing enticement that grew more demanding. Finding it impossible to resist her scent or her flavor, he opened his mouth wider and used his tongue to taste and explore, his lips to tease and seduce.

  His voice rumbled against her ear. “I want you so badly.” Mack pushed her skirt higher, exposing her lacy blue panties. His hand slid under the elastic, two fingers exploring her slick arousal. She reached for his fly but he pushed her hands away. “I want you to scream my name.”

  “I don’t do...that shit.” She gasped as he slid his fingers into her vagina, curling them to find a certain spot he was sure she’d enjoy. He set his thumb to exploring her clitoris, pressing, and circling.

  “You will today. Several times I think.” Mack’s teasing threat was borne away by his kiss: intense, demanding. He played with her sex and fed from her mouth, all the while blanketing her in their communal energy.

  Ingrid pulled away, panting. “Need breath.”

  “Breathing’s overrated.” With a hand threaded in her hair, he held her in place, kissing her cheek, her jaw, her neck, using the tip of his tongue to tease her skin. He increased the speed of his thrusting fingers, her sex soaked and swollen with need. Her face was so beautiful, mouth open, eyes closed, all of her focus on the pleasure he was delivering.

  “Let me touch you,” she pleaded.

  “Later.” The back of a car was not where he’d choose to make love to any female, particularly this one. But a little foreplay was more than fine. “You make me crazy."

  Two more thrusts and she was biting his shoulder—screaming—her vagina clenching around his slick fingers. He was pretty sure he’d heard his name among the other whimpering moans, but then again, Ingrid and he would have plenty of opportunities once they reached his bed, or his couch or his kitchen counter. So many possibilities…

  She sighed, snuggling in his arms, limp and smiling—every male’s fantasy. “Come home with me?" he asked, kissing the top of her head.

  “Turn off your H-tab," she mumbled.

  "After I check on the troupe."

  “Do it.”

  Mack checked in with Gene, explaining what had happened with the vamps. Gene assured him the rest of the troupe was fine and that Mack had better spend the night with Ingrid, so she could tend his wounds. He was such a fucking goofball. After ending the call, Mack held up his device. “It’s officially off for the rest of the night.”

  “Then I’d love to come. Several more times,” she said with a wink.

  “Planning on experimenting?”

  “You can count on it.”

  They were close to the V-Bridge, so it wouldn't be too much longer before Johnny had them back at Mack’s small house. His cock had calmed down while he was on the call, but the thought of burying his face between her thighs had him throbbing in time to his heartbeat all over again. “I might do some experimenting of my own.”

  “I’m still wet as a seal in a rainstorm. You should take advantage.”

  Mack was too enthralled to speak. Wet as a seal in a rainstorm, huh? He was gonna lap that shit right up.

  “We need to explore our connection.”

  “Exploring it sounds more scientific than personal.”

  She giggled. "I guarantee that when Professor Ingrid explores your biological makeup, it will be very personal.”

  He outlined her plump mouth with his thumb, leaning closer to whisper, “You’ve been smiling at me.”

  “Shhh. Don’t tell the others.” She linked her hands behind his neck. “I like you and I want you. Let’s start there.” Her kiss was short, but sensuous.

  “I’m a still a mess.”

  “Your shower looked large enough for two and the rug by the fireplace was lovely, and…”

  “Great minds think alike,” he laughed.

  Ingrid’s hand squeezed his cock, hard. “There’s another surface right over there…” Ingrid squealed when he lifted her off his lap, lowering her without effort to the longer seat. He licked her bare ankle, calf, and inner thigh, spreading her legs and using his tongue to tease her sensitive flesh through the thin fabric of her silk panties. “Mack…”

  Formed by her luscious mouth, his name became a benediction. And, holy gods, she smelled so good: a glass of water to a thirsty man, a feast for a starving one.

  “You are one determined, horny little vixen.” Keeping his own needs in check, Mack pulled her lacy blue panties very slowly down her lovely legs, kissing his way along the opposite leg in the reverse order. Making her wait.

  “Mack.” This time it was a demand, the fire in her eyes pushing all the right buttons on his body. He laughed, their gazes meeting without barriers, their shields dissolving, exposing more between them than simply the magic they were born with.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  His mind touched hers, sending only warmth and comfort, not pain. “You’re so beautiful, Miss Seal.” When Mack kissed her belly, she giggled, urging him to move his kisses south. “Just feel. That’s an order.” A calloused finger circled her clitoris, another two pushing inside to stroke and explore. Ingrid’s back arched, her inner muscles tightening.

  “Mack,” she sighed. “Do that again.” He did as he was told. “I want you inside me.” She tried to pull him on top, but he caught hold of her hands, bringing them down to the leather of the seat.

  “Later, sweet thing.” He kissed his way up to her sex.

  Like his fingers, Mack’s tongue was long and thick. He used it to stroke, to lick, to tease, exploring every inch of her most intimate flesh. She moved her hips to force him closer. “Oh… yes, do that…oh. Again.” No male had ever brought her such pleasure. She clutched at his hair, on the very edge, when he whispered against her flesh.

  "Come for me."

  Three flicks of his magical tongue and Ingrid exploded in tremendous waves of pleasure, his tongue, and fingers continuing their magic to draw out the exquisite sensation. She dug her nails into his shoulders, her heart pounding, her sensitized flesh clenching, already aching for more.

  And he was in her head—had been from the moment their axis energies had connected. She’d known this, wanted it, yet flashbacks of her past brought on feelings of panic, her vulnerability terrifying.

  Ingrid had kept her mental shields inviolable for twelve long years. From the moment her guardian’s creep-of-a-boyfriend had crawled into her bed and raped her, she’d worked every second of her spare time, teaching herself to keep the dregs of society out of her mind. The rape had been a punch in the gut at a very young age, but it woke her up to the truth. As long as The Director gave his okay, female thetas were powerless to choose who would use their bodies. But Ingrid could still keep them away from her mind and her heart. She was an actress, after all. The males who’d used or beaten her would never break her spirit, because she’d made sure the impenetrable shield she’d created to survive, sheltered her most vulnerable places.

  But with Mack, she’d dropped her innermost shield, leaving her as vulnerable as that eleven-year-old child who’d screamed and cried and hadn’t been rescued.

  “It’s me. I’m with you. You’re safe.” He’d drawn her into his lap, wrapping strong arms around her trembling body. “I’ll never hurt you.” Mack stroked her hair, kissed her head, rubbed her back. He did all the right things, but she was so afraid it wasn’t enough. She might never feel truly safe with anyone.

&nb
sp; It was several minutes before she was able to put together two words. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice harsh from the crying.

  “Maybe it’s me who should be apologizing—although I don’t remember bringing on terrors in any other female.”

  She tried to smile. “It wasn’t you. You were…it was perfect.”

  “It was the mind thing, right? It happened spontaneously.”

  “I know. I can’t…I never drop my shields completely during sex. I don’t…” She huffed in frustration. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but…

  “You don’t trust anyone.” Mack’s tone held no recriminations. It was odd he didn’t seem to judge her, even though he’d done nothing at all to earn her distrust.

  “I’m sorry. It’s all tied up with the rape when I was a kid. I’m terrified I won’t survive if I open myself up. That male, so long ago. He would have killed me if someone hadn’t heard me scream.” She’d built layer-upon-layer of protection for herself: after the first rape, after her first beating, after The Director ripped through her mind, and on and on. Each layer was a link in a chain that hung around her neck, protecting her mind and her heart, but destroying her chances at intimacy or friendship—until now, with Gene and Mack.

  “You can trust me, Ingrid.” He kissed her shoulder. So sweet. So perfect.

  “I know I can. I do.”

  “Give us some time.”

  Ingrid felt his arousal pressing against her thigh. She wiggled and he winced. “I figured you’d be a guy who'd take care of his own needs first."

  "There's nothing hotter than watching a beautiful woman come. Guess I haven’t lost my touch.”

  Ingrid was actually enjoying the intimacy she was sharing with Mack. She angled forward, catching Mack’s hand and inspecting his fingers. “These are better than any of my vibrators.”

  “I suppose that’s a compliment,” he laughed, delivering a very sweet kiss that ended on a sexier note with his teeth tugging on her bottom lip. “We’re three blocks from our destination.” His sexy grin and glittering eyes broadcast his erotic plans in 3D.