Dark Deception: A Vampire Romance (Vampire Royals of New York Book 1)

by Sarah Piper

  You need to be tied up and spanked, little prowler.

  Blood and power hummed through his veins, the image of his handprint on her bare flesh igniting a different sort of hunger inside.

  This long into an immortal life, there were few things Dorian still enjoyed. The company of a beautiful woman was, on occasion, one of them.

  But nothing—nothing—made him harder than a woman with fire. A woman who could hold her own, even as she begged to be dominated.

  Soon enough, he’d have her doing both.

  He took a step toward her, the soft thud of her pulse an erotic drumbeat that damn near hypnotized him.

  For a moment, her anger faded, and she held his gaze in silence, tension crackling between them, her breath shallow, mouth slightly parted. She bit her bottom lip again, and he stared eagerly, already imagining the sweet taste of her kiss, the dangerous tease of her blood as his fangs grazed the plump flesh…

  “The painting,” she said suddenly, breaking the trance. She turned toward the fireplace, gesturing at the art displayed over the mantle. “Heinrich von Hausen’s Adrift. One of his lesser known works, but still a masterpiece by any measure.”

  “You’ll have to try harder than that,” he said. “You’ve already impressed me with your knowledge of art.”

  “I’m not trying to impress you. I’m trying to tell you that this painting is one of my favorites. My father took me to see it at the Smithsonian when I was a kid. How it ended up here, I can only imagine. But as soon as I saw it, I knew I wanted to ask the owners about it. Maybe arrange for a private bid, or… I don’t know. Something.”

  An echo of sadness lingered in her voice, as raw and authentic as the painting itself, chased by a wave of the same darkness he’d seen earlier, rising anew in her eyes.

  If he’d met her a hundred years ago—fifty, even—maybe he would’ve asked her about it. Offered comfort. Promises. Hell, maybe he’d have marched right back into the auction room, tracked down the host, and bought the damn painting for her on the spot, just to make her smile.

  But these days, there was no room in his heart for sentimentality.

  Only hunger.

  Only desire.

  In a flash, he closed the last of the distance between them, forcing her to take a step back, then another. Her shoulders hit the door of a small closet, and she dropped her purse and gasped, looking up at him with a mix of fear and lust, a combination that all but sealed her fate.

  “Touching story.” He trailed a finger across her exposed collarbone. Not far below, the curve of her breasts peaked out over the top of her dress, full and inviting. It was another of her many contradictions—hot and hard on the inside, soft and elegant on the outside—and Dorian couldn’t wait to make her unravel. To expose every last one of her secrets—mind, body, and soul. “Forgive me if I don’t quite buy it.”

  “What… what are you doing?” she whispered, heart fluttering like a hummingbird, the swell of her breasts rising and falling with every frightened breath.

  But the scent of her desire didn’t lie.

  Dorian reached up and cupped her face, dragging his thumb across those plump lips, already imagining what they’d feel like wrapped around his cock. What she’d look like on her knees, wrists bound behind her back, begging him for it.

  But when it came to pleasure, he was a master of… Well, some might call it patience. He preferred a more accurate descriptor.

  Restraint.

  It was an exquisite torture, the administration of which brought him as much pleasure as the ultimate surrender.

  As badly as he wanted to fuck her hot mouth, to unleash every bit of pent-up yearning her presence had stirred to life inside him, he was even more desperate to taste her. To drive her to the knife’s edge between pleasure and pain, and watch her fall over the precipice, her body submitting to his every command.

  He lowered his hand again, fingers skimming the top edge of her dress, the heat of her skin weakening his resolve.

  A soft moan escaped her lips, despite her best efforts to contain it. Her eyelids fluttered closed.

  “Ah, there’s nothing quite like a bad girl in a beautiful dress,” he murmured, and she arched her back, bringing her breast to his palm. Beneath his touch, her taut nipple rose against the fabric. “I suppose you think that’s enough to make me fall at your feet, lapping up your lies like a starved kitten at the milk bowl.”

  “I didn’t… I was trying to… I’m…” She tripped over her words, her breathing turning more erratic with every gentle stroke. “It’s not a lie. I—”

  “Shh.” Dorian ran his hand down to her rib cage, thumb teasing her nipple, his other hand sliding into the hair gathered at the base of her neck. The silky knot came loose from its binds, long auburn locks tumbling over her shoulders and unleashing more of the citrus-and-vanilla scent that made his head spin.

  “If I were a decent man,” he said, “I’d haul you out to security and pat myself on the back for saving the poor bastard who owns this place from whatever schemes you’re undoubtedly planning.”

  Dorian released her neck, and she opened her eyes, irises nearly swallowed by the dark pupils.

  He pressed a finger to her lips to silence another excuse. The soft heat of her breath ghosted across his fingertip, the promise of her wet mouth making his cock throb.

  “But since I’m not a decent man,” he said, “I’m going to make you an offer instead. Two choices. Think very, very carefully about your response—I’m only going to ask once. Understand?”

  She nodded, blood pulsing visibly beneath the pale skin of her throat, every heartbeat a seductive whisper, a promise, a warning.

  Don’t do this, Redthorne. You know what happens…

  Ignoring the voice of reason, he gazed into her beautiful, devious eyes, his cock so hard it fucking ached.

  “Option one,” he said. “You walk out that door right now, take the elevator to the ground floor, and disappear. Don’t return to this building. Don’t return to this neighborhood. Forget we ever crossed paths.”

  “What’s… what’s option two?”

  “Option two.” Dorian lowered his mouth to hers, so close he could taste the gin on her tongue, and fisted her dress, hiking it up to reveal her bare, toned thighs. He slid a hand between them, wet heat radiating through the thin black lace of her panties. With the softest brush of his lips against hers, he whispered, “I’m tearing off this pathetic scrap of lace, dropping to my knees, and fucking you with my mouth until I’m absolutely convinced you’ll never look at another painting again without recalling the time a stranger cornered you in the study at the Salvatore penthouse and forced you to come for him, again… and again… and again.”

  She drew a sharp breath, and he increased the pressure between her thighs, dragging his knuckles back and forth.

  “So what’s it going to be, little prowler? Will you go, or will you…” He arched his hand up, pushing hard against the damp fabric. “…come?”

  “Fuck.” The whisper fell against his lips, her hips rocking as Dorian restarted the slow, teasing strokes.

  “What’s that, gorgeous? I didn’t quite catch your answer.”

  “Fuck off,” she said, feisty until the very end. Then, with new heat blazing in her eyes, “God, I want option two. Fucking give me option two.”

  “Good answer, love. Because here’s my secret.” He hooked his fingers into the panties, and with a swift jerk of his wrist, tore them from her body like tissue paper. “You never really had a choice.”

  Chapter Eight

  Charley didn’t give a flying fuck what he said about choices.

  For her, there was only one way this ended. It was hot, dirty as hell, and screw it—she was more than okay with it. She was a hot-blooded, consenting adult who’d gone without the touch of a man for far too long, and she wanted this. No, she deserved this—a quick indulgence to fuel her imagination for all the lonely nights to come.

  “Trust me.” She flashed him
a sexy smile. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here, fucking a hot stranger in the study.”

  “Ah, but you won’t be fucking a hot stranger.” The man stuffed her ruined underwear into his pocket, then flashed his wolf’s grin, ready to devour her. “The stranger will be fucking you.”

  He spun her around and lifted her dress again, fisting the fabric in one hand while his other slipped between her thighs from behind. She leaned against the closet door for leverage as his strong, demanding fingers drove into her aching pussy, stroking her with a masterful touch that threatened to send her over the edge in thirty seconds flat.

  “It seems I’ve put you in quite a state,” he rasped, breath hot in her ear. Then, leaning in close, he dragged his hand out and lifted it to his mouth. With a soft, reverent moan he slid his fingers into his mouth, sucking on the evidence of her desire, his eyes dark and foreboding. “My, but you’re exquisite.”

  Holy fuck, this guy is off the rails…

  And God, he knew exactly how to tease her, how to whisper all the forbidden things that left her wet and throbbing. His deep voice, the accent, his commanding touch… Charley’s skin was covered in goose bumps, her legs already trembling, and she had the distinct impression he was just getting started.

  “But as lovely and delicious as you may be,” he said. “I don’t trust you. You’re a bad girl, sneaking past the ropes, touching things that don’t belong to you. Running off after bidding on my painting.”

  She felt a tug at her waist as he freed the satin sash and unzipped the dress, letting it fall to the floor.

  A shiver worked through her body, but Charley wasn’t cold. She was on fire, her skin blazing, her body wound tight as she stood before him, naked but for her strapless black bra, more aroused than she’d ever been in her entire life.

  “Give me your hands. Now.” His voice was firm and severe, taking on an authoritative tone that made her nipples ache.

  He was still holding the sash from her dress, and Charley knew in an instant what he planned to do with it.

  Just as she knew what it would mean to obey him.

  It was one thing to consent to the demands of his sexy power games. It was another to allow him to strip her nearly bare in a stranger’s penthouse.

  She’d agreed to both, without hesitation.

  But tying her up? That was something else entirely. A whole new level of risk.

  Don’t be stupid. The minute you give him what he wants, he’ll blow your cover, expose you to the guard, and leave you to the damn wolves.

  That was her brain’s warning, and it sounded totally reasonable.

  But her instincts said otherwise, and they’d never misled her. After years of putting herself in harm’s way on the job, Charley had learned to listen to her body before listening to her head, and right now, with this man’s hot mouth a tantalizing tease behind her ear, his filthy promises melting her from the inside out, Charley’s body was screaming for his touch.

  Butterflies flooded her insides. She’d never been so bold, so daring with a man before.

  Her lifestyle didn’t exactly lend itself to long-term relationships with decent men, and her ex—a documents forger Rudy sometimes contracted—had tried his damnedest to make her feel selfish for acting on her desires. For even having desires in the first place.

  But tonight, stripped down by her enigmatic stranger in the study of the penthouse her crew was planning to rob, her nipples aching, core dripping with desire, Charley felt her deepest yearnings blooming inside, desperate to be unleashed, aching to be tamed.

  By him.

  Yeah, he was a total stranger. But no man had ever made her feel so powerful, so wanted before. However far he planned to take this game tonight, Charley was willing to follow him.

  All the fucking way.

  Closing her eyes, she crossed her arms behind her.

  He bound her wrists, pulling the sash so tight her hands ached.

  Hell yes.

  She was so wet for this guy, so ready to submit to him. When he’d first surprised her in the study, her mind was on one thing—saving her cover. She’d flirted with him to distract him, to buy herself a few extra minutes until she could figure things out. But the moment he backed her against the closet door and dished out his ultimatum, everything changed.

  And she knew, despite his obvious need for control, that she’d had a similar effect on him. Her every word, every movement seemed to unlock something primal in the man—a raw, dominant power that had lain dormant beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed by the right woman.

  The heat between them was off the charts. Suddenly distraction wasn’t enough—Charley needed him to take her. To totally fucking possess her.

  A moan escaped her lips, unbidden as he tugged harder on her restraints. Everything about this man was turning into a thrill ride, a dark fantasy in which she couldn’t wait to lose herself.

  “Fucking gorgeous.” He ran his hands down her arms, her hips, the curve of her ass, setting her nerves ablaze. After taking his sweet time admiring the view from behind, he finally grabbed her shoulders and turned her around, his gaze trailing a searing-hot path from head to toe, then back up again.

  Her heart beat in wild anticipation as he ran his thumb along her lower lip, staring at her mouth as if he wanted to bite her. The wait was pure torture, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love it.

  He glanced up into her eyes one last time, his gaze a feral warning. Then, with no more than a wicked quirk of his lips, he descended, kissing her hungrily, nipping and sucking before delving in deeper, his breath hot in her mouth, the faint tang of scotch lingering on his tongue.

  She moaned in pleasure, imagining the ecstasy his deft, eager tongue could unleash on the rest of her body.

  “Shh,” he whispered, pulling back to admonish her. “We don’t want our friend from security coming to investigate.”

  They both listened intently as the tell-tale footsteps clomped down the hall. For a moment Charley tensed, but the thought of getting caught in such a severely compromised state sent a new thrill coursing through her veins.

  “Maybe he’d like the show,” she teased.

  The man slid his hands behind her, grabbing her ass and pulling her close. Charley’s knees weakened at the press of his rock-hard cock against her belly, thrilled that she’d driven him to the same state of desire as he’d driven her.

  Reaching past her, he pulled open the closet door and slowly backed her inside, then shut the door behind them, enveloping them in darkness. The air was warm and thick, heavy with the delicious, clean scent of his skin and the leather from the coats hanging beside them. Charley had never been blindfolded, but she imagined it felt a lot like being in the dark closet, all her other senses on high alert.

  He still hadn’t released her from his touch, and now he kissed her again, blazing a red-hot path along her jaw to her ear. In a possessive tone that flooded her core with molten heat, he said, “If you think for one minute I’d share you with another man, love, you’re sorely mistaken.”

  And then, finally making good on his threat, her insane, commanding, rock-hard stranger dropped to his knees.

  Chapter Nine

  Dorian didn’t know how much time they had before someone discovered them, but for now, tucked away in a forgotten closet, she belonged to him—a beautiful, auburn-haired package gift-wrapped in secrets and satin.

  His.

  It was that simple.

  Kneeling before her, Dorian pressed his face to the apex of her thighs. Her scent invaded every part of him, threatening to eradicate the very last of his control. He felt the familiar burn of fangs descending, but he knew that if he gave in now—if he tasted even one drop of her blood—he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  And he couldn’t hurt her. Wouldn’t, no matter how desperately her blood called to him.

  Turning his face, he pressed his stubbled cheek to the bare, silky-soft skin between her legs, forcing the dark hunger
inside him to settle. Certain his fangs had finally receded, he turned his attention back to his gift, glad he’d ruined those sexy black panties. Now, there was nothing standing in the way of devouring her hot, needy flesh.

  But first, he’d make her writhe—a delicious punishment for the state she’d left him in.

  His tongue darted out from between his lips, stealing an all-too-brief taste. As if she could escape his teasing, she backed up against the closet’s inner wall, knocking a few coats and hangers to the ground.

  “Be still, little prowler,” he warned, pressing his lips to the hollow below her hipbone. “Or I’ll have to spank you.”

  She let out a soft moan, but did as he asked, holding absolutely still as he traced a light path along her inner thigh with his tongue. The taste of her skin was even more addicting than he’d imagined—soft and creamy and entirely too decadent for mere mortals to enjoy.

  Gripping her thighs, he drew one long, toned leg over his shoulder and blew a soft breath across her clit. She trembled in his hands, her flesh erupting in goosebumps.

  It was a powerful feeling—one he’d be fantasizing about for years to come.

  She was so wet, so ready for him, so earnestly desperate for more, his resolve soon crumbled. As much as he’d wanted to teach her the fine art of restraint, he couldn’t deny her for another moment.

  Couldn’t deny himself.

  On a deep inhale, he buried his face between her thighs, licking and sucking, exploring every red-hot inch with his tongue. It wasn’t long before the taste of his earlier meal was forgotten, along with all the things conspiring to ruin him tonight. Right now, there was only his mouth upon her flesh, the breathy sounds escaping her lips, the ripple of pleasure pulsing beneath her skin as he slaked another hunger.

  Even with her back against the wall, the woman was growing weaker, her body slipping into a state of pure ecstasy as the inevitable climax simmered. Dorian felt the quickening of her heartbeat, the hot rush of blood in her veins.