Unfamiliar (The Vandran Legacy Book 1)

by Anna-Louise Dann

  “What do you want, Clara?” he asked breathlessly, never breaking eye contact.

  “I want you, Colt... please?” she said, and rubbed herself against his trouser-clad cock. “Shit, Clara, you’re going to kill me... I can’t, not tonight, there’s so much to tell you... so much you need to know.” She nodded again. The look of hurt in her eyes nearly destroyed him. He felt her shift like she was going to move away and close herself off from him.

  “Hey, look at me, Clara.” She met his eyes again; the pain in them was too much for him to bear. “I fucking want you, don’t you dare think I don’t, but I can’t make you mine, not until you know me completely. Then you can decide if you still want me. Fuck, Clara, you’re all I think about.”

  He stood up and took her with him, her legs wrapped around his waist. She laid her head on his shoulder. “I missed you,” she whispered into his ear.

  “Me too, beautiful,” he said. He carried her up to her room. He used his back to close the door. She lifted her head and planted feather kisses over his jaw. He knew he wouldn’t be making love to her tonight but he needed to explore every curve of her beautiful body with his mouth.

  He lowered her legs to the floor and pushed her white house coat off her shoulders. He unbuttoned the front of her white nightgown and scooped the bottom, lifting it over her head. She shuddered as his fingers brushed against the naked skin of her ribcage and she let out the sexiest of sounds when his fingers brushed the side of her bare breasts.

  Dropping her night gown to the floor, he kissed her neck and worked his way down to her creamy perky breasts; they fitted perfectly in his hand. He rolled one of her nipples between his thumb and index finger and used his mouth on the other, sucking and nibbling on her delicious flesh. Her breaths turned into pants and he was sure he could make her come undone just by sucking on her sensitive peaks.

  He lifted his head and met her hooded gaze, his own need straining against the zipper of his jeans. “I am going to remove your underwear now, Clara,” he said, not recognising his own voice. She nodded.

  She stepped out of the flimsy material after he worked them down her perfect long legs. He tugged them carefully over the bandage covering her injured thigh; he kissed the area around the bandage and she shuddered again.

  He stood and took a step back to feast his eye on the beautiful naked creature standing before him. She was so much more than what he imagined – her dusky small nipples stood to attention against her milky white skin waiting to be licked again, and she had curves in all the right places. He could see how much she desired him by the wetness that glistened at the V between her legs.

  “You’re so beautiful, Clara.” He had to make sure she was willing to do this with him tonight. “If you want me to stop, just say the word and I’ll just hold you tonight. We don’t have to do anything else.”

  A smile formed on that kissable mouth. “I need you,” she whispered.

  That was all he needed to hear. He couldn’t just look anymore, he needed to claim every piece of that beautiful body with his hands and mouth. He thoroughly kissed her and stroked his fingers up and down her back; he felt her stiffen in his arms like he had hurt her. Shit...

  He turned her around and the sight of all the welt marks up her back and across her shoulders made his anger bubble to the surface. He had seen the bottom of them when he dressed her leg but fuck...

  “Fuck, Clara, I knew they were bad but I didn’t realise. I am so sorry, baby, did I hurt you? I never want to hurt you.”

  Clara turned in his arms and pressed her curvy naked flesh against him. She grabbed his face in her hands.

  “It’s ok, they are jus t still a little tender. I trust you, Colt, please don’t stop.” She wound her hands around the back of his neck and brought his mouth down to hers. He growled and lifted her, placing her carefully on the bed.

  He stripped his shirt off and his jeans and lay down next to her. He kissed her again and drew tiny circles around her nipples. She moaned into his mouth. His dick strained against the material of his boxers; he squeezed it to try and relieve some of the pressure. It just intensified his need.

  He kissed his way down her body and made sure every part of her breasts had been licked and sucked. By the time he got to her navel she was whimpering his name and pleading with him.

  He licked from her bellybutton to the little mound of auburn curls and her back curved off the bed, wanting more. Her feminine smell invaded his senses and he growled, burying his mouth into her centre and tasting her sweetness. He hummed against her and took the sweet bud into his mouth, sucking it lightly. He could feel her climax building. He pushed a finger into her tight opening and she cried out in pleasure; she was soaking wet and ready for release. He slowly added a second finger and flicked his tongue over her sensitive clit again. She came undone. Her sex throbbed against his hungry mouth. The orgasm that shook her body was the sexiest thing he had ever witnessed; this was all his, and he had never been so close to shooting his load from just tasting a woman. He savoured her release, lapping up every drop she gave him.

  Clara

  Holy shit! The tremors still racked her body from the best orgasm she had ever had in her life. She had pleasured herself before but it was nothing like this.

  Colt was still between her legs, kissing her thighs. She could feel herself becoming wet again with the sensation of him just touching her with his gorgeously talented mouth.

  He kissed his way back up her body and took her mouth again. She could taste herself and it was the sexiest thing ever.

  The man could kiss. He took her mouth like a person starved, she had never been kissed so thoroughly.

  His cock was rubbing against her outer thigh, making her want things they had said they would wait for.

  “Colt?” she said, her voice husky. “Yeah, beautiful?” His voice was deep, smooth, and full of hunger as he kept kissing her all over her face. He couldn’t get enough, the feeling was so mutual.

  “I want to do the same for you. Will you show me how?” She gasped as he nibbled on a sensitive spot under her ear.

  He lifted his head; there was a pained look in his eyes. “Maybe next time, tonight is all about pleasing you,” he said, and sucked her nipple into his mouth. She couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her.

  “Umm... Good, because, the only thing that is going to pleasure me right now, is being able to touch you. I need to feel you, Colt.” She pushed at his chest, making him lay on his back. She straggled his legs, rubbing herself on his hard cock. He growled and dragged her down to take her mouth with his own again.

  She surprised herself with how confident she was with him; she had never been like this with anyone before.

  She moved slowly down the bed and tugged at his boxers; he sprung loose. She gasped. He was huge, he was thick and long. The throbbing started between her legs again; if she wasn’t going to fill herself with him she had to at least touch him and watch him come undone.

  She slid back up the bed to his side and stroked her fingers across his chest. His body was magnificent, all ripples and hard muscle. She licked her lips and kissed where her fingers had been. She flicked one of his hard nipples with her tongue, he sucked in a breath. She slid her hand down his abdomen past that sexy V shape and reached for his big hard cock. Teasing him, she ran her fingers down the shaft.

  His hips bucked off the bed.

  “Fuck, Clara, if your little hands keep that up, I am going to explode all over you.” That little confession spurred her on, she fisted his cock lightly and stroked him twice. He guided his hand to hers and showed her his rhythm. She watched as he closed his eyes tightly and threw his head back as she used her hand to bring him pleasure. The noises coming from him as she stroked his cock sent ripples of pleasure into her own sex and she felt wetness on the inside of her thigh.

  “I’m going to come,” he said, h is voice strained, and she felt him tense underneath her grip but she didn’t let go. She slowed her movement, pumping at
him. A pained growl came from him; the warm liquid of his ejaculation shot onto her hand and up his stomach. His big body shuddered with aftershocks of his release. She rubbed her thighs together; pleasuring him had made her want him again. He pulled her to him and kissed her again. “Clara, that was just... I’ll be back in a minute and then I am going to make you beg for me to be inside you,” Colt said, jumping off the bed and heading to the bathroom to clean himself up.

  Clara lay back, excited at what the rest of this eventful night held for her. He made good on his promise. By the time she found her fourth orgasm of the night she had been begging him to make love to her. He hadn’t, but she had been well and truly sated by this magnificent man. They both fell asleep tangled in each other’s arms.

  Chapter Eight

  Clara The sunlight filtered through the bedroom as Clara woke from the best sleep she’d had in days, reliving the fun she and Colt had the night before. She rolled over to reach for him but to her dismay the bed was empty. Judging by the coldness of the sheet he’d been gone for a while. There was a handmade journal propped up on the pillow next to her. She frowned and sat up. Lifting the journal curiously, there was a note attached to the front:

  Clara Last night was unbelievable, but before we take whatever this is between us further, you need to know the truth about me and what I am. I couldn’t allow this to continue without being honest with you. This journal belongs to Heather she is the woman who found you in Hunters Woods. I was with her that night too. This will tell you everything you need to know. I’ll understand if you want nothing more to do with me after this, but please know whatever happens I will always protect you with my life.

  Colt x

  P.s Read this journal with an open mind. She pulled the note off and placed it on the bedside table. She ran her fingers over the old brown leather covering it – it was rough beneath her touch. She had a feeling once she turned these pages and read its contents, her whole life would be turned upside-down.

  A shiver ran through her, and she realised she was still naked. A little blush formed on her cheeks remembering everything from the night before. Colt had been amazing. What that man could do with his mouth, she had never experienced anything so intense. Every orgasm he gave her had made her toes curl.

  She got out of bed, grabbing her discarded house coat from the floor and putting it on, covering her modesty. She hobbled to the bathroom. She relieved her bladder and then walked to the sink where she washed her hands, brushed her teeth, and then splashed some water on her face.

  Once back in the bedroom she pulled on some sweatpants and a vest top and sat on the bed next to the journal pondering whether she had the guts to read it. Judging by Colt’s note she had a feeling it wasn’t going to be good.

  Just read the stupid thing.

  She picked it up and turned to the first page. A picture of a beautiful woman stared back at her.

  She had platinum blonde hair and the bluest eyes Clara had ever seen. Studying her features for a few seconds, wondering why she looked so familiar, Clara decided she looked like an older version of her sister Emmie.

  So, this was Heather. She was stunning, her beauty took your breath away, no wonder Colt was so fond of her. Clara felt a pang of jealousy in the pit of her stomach. Was Colt sleeping with this woman? The thought of him with someone else after what they had done last night, pissed her off.

  Heather

  Born 6th March 1973

  Born a white witch, taught the old ways from birth. Resides near Boyne Valley in Ireland

  Protector of the Vandran legacy.

  Companions: Lucas Walcott 1990-2006(murdered) Colt Brooker 2007-present

  What? Heather was a witch and Colt was her companion. What was a companion? This didn’t make any sense.

  The rest was written in a language she couldn’t understand, but she assumed it was spells or a poem, the way it was presented on the page.

  Why did the name Vandran ring a bell with her though? She was sure she had heard that name before.

  Colt had said it was Hunters Woods where he and this Heather woman had found her. Was Heather the chanting woman she had encountered before passing out?

  She turned the page and found a picture of Lucas. He was just as ruggedly handsome as Colt but had blond hair and green eyes.

  There was a picture of a raven and more foreign writing. Lucas Walcott

  Born 1st July 1971

  Born a spectral being of the sky, gene passed down from mother (Mary Walcott) to take on the familiar form of a raven.

  Free spirit

  Protector and companion of Heather 1990-2006 Murdered by the descendants of the Domini Bellatorum.

  What??? The Domini Bellatorum, that was the name from her dreams. They were the brainwashed followers of the sadistic bastard who killed Annabelle and slaughtered all her family.

  If this was real, why was she dreaming about them? Why did she keep reliving the nightmare repeatedly when she closed her eyes? Fear gripped at her gut but she had to keep reading; she turned to the next page.

  A picture of Colt stared back at her but his eyes weren’t brown, they were amber. Next to the picture of Colt was a picture of a black wolf baring its teeth. It had glowing red eyes like the wolf she had seen in the woods. As she read on her breath caught in her throat and tears formed in her eyes, threatening to spill as realisation dawned on her about who and what Colt was.

  Colt Brooker

  Born October 15th, 1987

  Born a spectral being of the land and forest

  gene passed down from both parents (Catherine & David Brooker)

  to take on the familiar form of Canis lycaon (Black Wolf) Free Spirit

  Protector and companion of Heather 2007-present

  There was a note attached to the page covering more writing: Please read this in Colt’s presence if you seek truth and understanding about what you are. Only a true descendant of the great goddess Annabelle can call on any familiar without uniting by bonding magic first.

  Heather

  Clara lifted the note up, underneath there’s a spell written in English: To perform the conjuration, repeat these words: Through the trees and earth’s plains

  Bring forth the beast which resides within. Canis lycaon I release your truth.

  Appear to me.

  “This is fucked up!” she exclaimed, slightly shaken by what she’s reading. Did Colt and this Heather woman think she was a long-lost relative of Annabelle? Turning the next page is her undoing. The blood drains from her already pale complexion. Clear as day is the face of the woman who has been haunting her dreams.

  Annabelle Vandran

  Born 2nd January 1684

  Great Goddess and protector of Hunterscove.

  Murdered 1703 at the hands of The Domini Bellatorum. Through the blood a new sorceress will rise.

  The writing underneath is like a synopsis of her dream, but for her it is more than words on paper. She has seen the brutality of it all, heard the screams, smelt the blood, and felt the flesh burning as if it was her own.

  She can’t read any more, feeling light-headed and ill suddenly.

  This can’t be happening. There’s no way anyone could know what Annabelle looked like unless this journal was for real. She had only told Iris about her nightmares recently but, never what Annabelle looked like.

  Bile rose in her throat and she dove into the bathroom, only just making it before she was violently sick into the toilet.

  She cries out in anguish; another bout of sickness comes over her and she throws up repeatedly until she is just dry retching.

  “Clara, I’m so sorry.” Colt’s big hands pull her hair back from her face. “So sorry, baby.”

  “Don’t you come near me, Colt,” she spits, batting his hands away. “You-you’re...” She grabs some tissue from the roll next to her to wipe her mouth and then tries to stand. Her head spins and she slumps down with her back against the wall, her knees pulled up.

  Colt kneels and pla
ces his hand on her knees. She leans her head back against the cold wall to focus on the white ceiling. She can’t look at him, it’s too raw.

  “Please, Colt, just leave me alone; I can’t do this right now,” she begs, not looking at him. “No, I’m not leaving you, not while you’re in this state. Stay here, I’ll get you some water.” He leaves the room.

  She doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Discovering this about herself, about her family, about Colt. Her whole life had been one big farce. That’s why she had been kidnapped, he wanted her for himself. She would always be running from that sick bastard who tortured her, there was no escape. Not even Colt could protect her from him. She had witnessed what Dominus did to familiars and it wasn’t something she wanted to see happen to Colt.

  Shit. If she was a descendant of Annabelle did that mean Emmie and Hope were too? If they were, did that mean they were in danger? Her head was reeling, she needed to see her sister.

  Colt came back with a glass of water. He handed it to her. She rinsed her mouth out, spat it into the toilet and then flushed the chain.

  She didn’t feel like she was going to be sick any more but her head spun and her body ached from retching on an empty stomach.

  “Here,” Colt said, offering his hand. She took it and he pulled her up, lifting her straight into his arms like she weighed nothing.

  He carried her back to her room and placed her carefully on the bed. Her body betrayed her and responded to his touch; it pissed her off that even at this moment with all she was dealing with, she couldn’t turn off the way her body reacted to him. Maybe it was because of what he was that she had felt a connection to him?

  The fact that he was being so attentive and treating her like she would break pissed her off, making her want to scream at him, so she did, taking all her frustrations out on him.