His Captive Mortal

by Rose , Renee

  I grab my hairbrush and walk out to the living room, dismayed by the darkness of the place without the windows. I will have to turn on the lights during the day. I’m the opposite of a vampire. I need light. Living in Arizona has helped my seasonal affective disorder, and I want to stay healthy. Just how long is this vampire planning on keeping me like this?

  You’re my captive now. You’ll win your freedom when you’ve figured out how to rid me of my curse.

  I make myself a bowl of cereal and eat in a sort of stupor, my brain short-circuiting on the vampire part every time. What curse? Did I really have special powers? I try to remember where I’d learned to put the bubble of protection around myself but come up short. Seemed like I’ve always done things like that. I figured it was just a quirk of mine left over from childhood, like kissing my hand and hitting the ceiling of the car when I run through a yellow-turning-red light. Which I don’t do these days since I have no car.

  Did my nana know I had magic? Did she? If so, it would make sense why she was always trying to teach me. I wish I had asked more questions and paid more attention. I was the one in the family who was closest to her, so whatever nana knew is gone with her.

  Now my best chance at understanding my power is my vampire captor.

  I should be planning my escape, but I really want to stay. The rational part of me wants to run to the cops, but I don’t want to leave this vampire. It’s not just curiosity about my powers. It’s something stronger. A compulsion--and not one put on me by a vampire. This comes from deeper down. It’s real. I don’t want to leave the vampire’s side. I can’t bear the thought of never seeing him again.

  Which is crazy, but there it is. My nana was always telling me to trust my intuition. I doubt this was the scenario she was referring to, but my gut says I need to stay. I need to see this to the end.

  But right now, I need to get outside to my garden. I’m not running away, just getting some space. A compromise. Watering, pulling weeds and tending my vegetables always helps me sort through my thoughts.

  I wash my bowl in the sink, setting it in the drying rack. Walking to the front door, I reach for the handle and then stop. Maybe I shouldn’t leave before checking my email.

  I sit down at my computer, but as it turns on, the mud in my thoughts clear. The garden. I was going to the garden. Not abandoning the vampire but not obeying him, either.

  But when I get to the door, my fingers hesitate before touching the knob. Why not just check my email? Or tidy up a bit?

  This I catch myself before I fully turn away. Something’s wrong here.

  I turn back to the door. Slowly I reach out to grasp the knob, my fingers trembling. It’s like I’m pushing through lead.

  All my instincts scream to snatch my hand away, but I push forward, half-expecting the door to burst into flames when I touch it. My hand arrives, but I can not make myself turn the knob.

  I swallow, my temples throbbing from the exertion of will.

  Open it, I order my hand. Open the forking door.

  * * *

  Charlie

  “What did you do to me?”

  I open my eyes, the heavy stupor of the day receding as a lovely woman climbs atop me, straddling my waist. Aurelia. The gold flecks in her eyes flash as she tosses her black hair back from her lovely, angry face.

  My fangs shoot out so fast, they almost cut my lip. I grasp her hips and push her further down my body, so her core rests directly over my concrete-hard cock. Her heat brings a shock of pleasure, and my eyes half close.

  “Stop it!” She wriggles against my hold.

  Bad idea, little mortal. I love it when my lovers struggle. I let my lip curl up.

  Her eyes widen when she catches sight of my lengthened canines.

  I find her struggles amusing, her warmth and gyrations only increasing my hard-on. “Calm yourself, love,” I murmur. “When you fight, it just excites me.”

  She makes an indignant sound but stills then moves in a slow grind. The scent of her arousal hangs heavy in the air, and her pupils are blown. I don’t think she’s aware she’s grinding on me.

  “Let me go,” she says, breathing hard.

  I reluctantly release her hips and interlace my fingers behind my head.

  She dismounts, wisely scrambling out of my reach. “What did you do to me?” she repeats, still eying my fangs.

  They retract as she watches. “What do you mean?”

  She stands quite still, her chest still heaving. “Why did your fangs get long?” she asks, her voice no more than a whisper.

  I sit and swing my legs to the floor. “I wasn’t going to suck your blood,” I say in a bored tone, padding past her to the bathroom where I splash water on my face.

  “Are you...hungry?” she asks, trailing behind.

  “No,” I snap. “I was aroused. Feeding satisfies a sexual urge in addition to providing nourishment.” The truth is, I probably do need to feed soon, it‘s been a couple weeks since I’ve had any blood, but I don’t want to scare her.

  “Oh,” she says.

  I glance over to see her nipples protruding through her bra and tank top. I inhale, breathing in her scent, longing to grasp her breasts and knead them possessively, pinching her nipples into points. I wrench my thoughts from her perfect anatomy. Staying with the little fairy might be as much torture to me as I intend to inflict upon her. Drying my hands and face on the towel, I saunter up to her, eying the vein at her throat. “Are you going to let me taste you, Aurelia?” I purr.

  She takes a quick step backward. “No!” Her voice pitches higher than usual.

  I smile, flashing fang.

  She draws herself up, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “I can’t open the front door,” she says.

  “I know.”

  “What did you do to me? Vampire hypnosis?”

  “Yes,” I admit, knowing it would probably enrage her. “I couldn’t take the chance you would open the door and let sunlight in while I slept.”

  Her shoulders lower and the fists unclench, as if my argument holds some merit with her. “Oh.”

  I’m mildly surprised she’s acting so reasonably. She might be more easygoing than she lets on.

  I head past her into the living room.

  “Well, you might have just left a note or something instead,” she says, following.

  I turn and lift my brows. “After what you tried to do to me last night?”

  She bites her lip. “Well…”

  “Well, what?”

  She stares at the floor. Her shyness is adorable. “Did you give me the dreams?”

  I remember the way she rocked her pelvis over my thigh when she woke and smile. I felt the dampness of her arousal through her shorts, and now, fully awake, I wish I helped her come. I can’t wait for a repeat of that scene. “What were you dreaming about, anyway?”

  She flushes, and the smell of her arousal blooms, making me want to forget Operation Break My Curse and carry her off to the bed to ravish her naked body until she screams. Last night I tasted her lips. Now I want to taste between her legs.

  “Nothing! I don’t know…”

  I let her squirm a bit more under my scrutiny before confessing, ”I didn’t wish to wake you with my hammering, so I suggested you fall into sweet dreams...literally.”

  She nibbles her lip as she digests that.

  “Were they?”

  “What?”

  “Sweet?”

  “Oh...um. Yeah.”

  I can tell she’s torn between being pissed off about my manipulation and appreciating the gesture.

  “Don’t do it again,” she says although she lacks conviction.

  I ignore her, seating myself on her couch like I own it.

  “Did you hear me? Vampire?”

  “Charlie,” I correct her. “Charles Edward Holbrook, the third. Come over here.” I crook a finger.

  I don’t expect her to come. She was all sweet defiance last night, but after a moment’s hesitati
on, she walks over to me.

  I catch her hand and guide her over my lap. She goes willingly. Almost eagerly.

  Interesting.

  “Who gives the orders around here?” I ask softly.

  I hear her swallow, the increased rate of her delicious heartbeat. “What?”

  “I said, who gives the orders around here, you or I?”

  She kicks up her chin, tossing her hair as she looks over her shoulder at me. I’m surprised she stayed in the position I put her. She must enjoy my games as much as I do. I’m certain of it when she dares to snap, “Go to hell.”

  I chuckle and slap her ass pinning her wrists with my other hand. “I thought you didn’t curse, little mortal.”

  She holds her breath like she’s waiting for more. I smack her other cheek then squeeze roughly. She has a full, juicy ass. I want to sink my cock between those cheeks and show her who her master is.

  “Who says you get to give the orders?” Her voice is breathy, and it goes straight to my cock.

  I spank her again. “It’s a given. Little mortal, you’re lower on the food chain.”

  “Fork you!”

  I love it that she doesn’t have a filthy mouth. It’s so damn cute.

  I turn her around to face me and give her a taste of vampire strength, lifting her by the waist to sit her up on the arm of the couch. She blinks in surprise. I pull her shirt off over her head.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” Even though she’s wearing a bra, she covers her breasts with one forearm.

  “Every time you sass me, you will lose an article of clothing. You may earn it back by showing your subservience to me.”

  “Are you forking kidding—wait,” she cries as I reach for her shorts. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry, your royal highness.”

  I hide my smile and purse my lips. “I think I’m going to go with sassy on that one,” I decree, grabbing her pink bra in between her breasts and lowering my head. I slice the fabric in two with my fangs and let it fall down her arms to the floor.

  Her hands fly to cover her breasts, and she flushes with outrage. This time she seems to consider her words before she speaks. “You owe me a new bra,” she says sullenly.

  Aw, I love it way too much when she pouts.

  I lift a brow. “You may never get to wear a bra again at the rate you’re going.”

  And my eternal case of blue balls will probably kill me.

  She glowers.

  I make a show of letting my eyes travel to the two pert breasts protruding from behind her hands. I let her see my hunger. “Do continue to defy me, little mortal,” I drawl.

  She glances down at the bulge in my pants and flushes even more pink. “What do I have to do to earn it back?” The little vixen licks her lips, which nearly kills me.

  “Kneel,” I order because it’s the only thought rushing through my brain. How badly I want her on her knees in front of my cock, servicing me.

  “What?” she asks indignantly, even as her eyes plead for mercy. Of course, I wouldn’t make her suck my cock. I’m not a complete bastard. Close, but not complete.

  “You heard me. On your knees at my feet.” I take her waist and lift her from the couch arm, showing off my strength by holding her suspended in the air for a breath before lowering her.

  “What for?” she asks warily, her eyes traveling to my crotch.

  My cock thickens in response.

  “I could just go put another bra on,” she tests.

  “And I could just glamour you to walk down Congress Street topless.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “Try me, little fairy. I can be a real dick.”

  She stands there, the muscles in her jaw clenching and releasing for a long moment. Finally, she huffs and lowers to her knees.

  My face splits into a wide smile. I slide my fingers into her thick glossy mane and tug her head back. “Thank you for your obedience, Aurelia. Remove your hands.”

  Her eyes shoot to mine, her mouth opening, forming a protest, which she seems to think better of. She throws down her hands all at once, lifting her chin and her sternum as if to inform me she has nothing to hide.

  Indeed, she has not. Her breasts are perfection, the size of apples, the rosy nipples ripe for sucking. I reach out and cup one, running my thumb over the pebbled tip.

  She shivers but doesn’t move, color flushing her cheeks and neck, her breath short.

  “I thought—” She stops and clears her throat when her voice cracks. “I thought you weren’t demanding this sort of thing,” she reminds me.

  I drop my hand with an effort at self-control. “I’m not. But if I must punish you, all bets are off.” It’s not true. I wouldn’t take her against her will. Even though her body screams for me to. Even though half of her wants me to.

  I scent her arousal again. I crouch before her and reach a hand between her thighs, trailing my index finger over the seam at her crotch, causing her to draw a sharp intake of breath. “Will you be good, Aurelia?”

  “Y-yes,” she warbles.

  I pinch the outer lips of her sex through her shorts, and she whimpers. “Good girl,” I murmur. “You may get dressed.”

  I release her and toss her the shirt, standing up and walking away as if I don’t have the bluest balls on the planet.

  Yes, torturing her would be a torture to me too... but the sweetest kind.

  Chapter 6

  Aurelia

  “I ordered books for you to study,” Charlie informs me from my bedroom. He’s walking around it, picking up my things and examining them. “But they won’t be here until tomorrow, so we’ll practice with your bubble today. Is that your only trick?”

  I nibble my lip. “When I was a kid, I swore I could make the wind blow.” I remembered last night, as I’d considered Charlie’s claim that I possess some kind of power.

  He looks at me thoughtfully. “Can you make it blow inside?”

  I give a bark of embarrassed laughter. “I don’t even think I can do it outside anymore. I don’t know if it ever really happened, or I just believed I could do it.”

  He leans his back against the wall and folds his arms over his muscled chest, considering me. In a crisp button down with the sleeves rolled up, he looks straight out of the pages of a men’s fashion magazine--virile, handsome and debonnaire. “You could,” he says, as if he knows it definitively. “Try it--right here and now.”

  I close my eyes, remembering how I used to climb to the top of a hill, spread my arms and lift my face up, saying, “blow wind, blow!” I imagine the feel of wind on my face, of my hair lifting in the currents.

  A wisp of air, so light it could be in my imagination, breezes past my face.

  My eyes fly open. “Did you see anything?”

  Charlie smiles. “Very good, fairy. Now send it my way.” He holds up his palms.

  I draw a breath and imagine feeling the wind at my back, blowing my clothing forward. A tiny current of air ruffles my sleeve, then dies away.

  “Again,” Charlie orders.

  “Did you feel that?”

  “I did. I want you to do it again. Stronger this time.”

  Already the two tries have exhausted me. “I don’t know how,” I complain.

  Charlie strides over to me, looking every inch the authoritarian. My belly flutters with excitement and nerves. What would he do this time? Spank me again? Scold me? Bite my bra off with his sexy sharp teeth?

  He cups my chin and looks down at me warmly. “You’re doing very well, little fairy. The more you use it, the more power you’ll have. I need you to keep practicing for me.”

  His approval should not warm me, turn me gooey inside.

  “It’s...tiring,” I manage to say, still lost in his dark gaze.

  “Do you need a snack?” When I nod, he moves his hand to my nape, turns me and guides me toward the kitchen. There, he pulls a chair out for me. “Sit,” he orders. “Now, try again. Blow the curtains over there.”

  As much for my o
wn curiosity as to satisfy his demands, I continue to practice the skill. After several attempts, the curtains lift and wave in the air as if the window weren’t boarded shut.

  “Well done, little mortal.”

  “My magic brings all the fang boys to the yard,” I brag.

  With a grin, Charlie sets a plate of the same graham cracker treat I made last night in front of me. “Now, show me your protective bubble again.”

  I throw it up, and he blurs backward to give me room. As with the initial time, at first I can’t see my creation, but once he shows me the edges with his hands, my eyes find the invisible outline, catching the shimmer.

  He pokes and prods the bubble, able to distort its shape, but not puncture it. “Can you make it thicker?” he asks. When I try and succeed, he demands I make it rigid then change its color. It seems there’s no limit to what I can do: I simply use my imagination to cast the image. Excitement bubbles up in me. Is this really all true? I possess magical abilities? I feel like Harry Potter must have felt when he first got the letter for Hogwarts.

  Despite my trepidation and annoyance over Charlie barging in and making his demands, I can’t help but feel gratitude for this gift.

  “Come over here and face this white wall,” he says. Every time he gives a command, my pussy clenches, like he owns me with nothing more than his sexy voice.

  I stand as he directs, and he stands behind me, grasping my shoulders. “Hold your hand out in front of you and look at the energy surrounding it. Tell me if you see any colors.”

  “What is it, an aura?”

  “I don’t know. I see it only faintly, and most mortals don’t see anything at all. But that doesn’t mean it’s not there.” He speaks with his lips close to my ear, so I can’t concentrate on anything but the thrum of excitement at his nearness, his masculine scent and the memory of his fingers tweaking my sex. “What do you see, love?”

  I shiver at his hot breath feathering over my ear, seeing nothing.

  “Shall I tell you what I see?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Mmm, so polite. I see a layer of yellow, then turquoise blue, then green.”