Fatal Cravings: Immortal Keeper Vampire Paranormal Romance Series

by Daniella Starre

  “My sister… was…” I didn’t realize I was crying and had been crying before until now when I wiped my face and felt the tracks from earlier and the fresh tears.

  “Killed?” he supplied.

  “Yes,” I mumbled.

  “Drained?”

  I nodded, unable to speak.

  “I told you so.”

  If I thought I would get away with it, I would slap him, shove him, scream, rant, rave. He wanted a scene? He deserved one after saying that.

  But the insufferable vampire was right.

  Not that our getting married would’ve changed what happened to Amber. There wouldn’t have been time for Viktor to learn what I had been up to, although it did seem as the vampire was all up in my grill.

  How could he go after Amber? She had been good and kind. Although she never learned what I had done for her—not even about the tutor because I asked for her to say that someone had sponsored Amber—my sister went out of her way to help as many people as she could. That was just who Amber was. She’d been walking around the neighborhood one day, trying to find a stray cat that she had been feeding with some of her food, when there had been a car accident. A terrible one. It had only been a few weeks after I’d left home to try to make money. Amber had rushed over to the wreck and tried to stop the boy’s bleeding. The driver had been killed, and the boy in the backseat had a serious gash. He ended up needing fifty-two stitches, and the doctors said that Amber had saved his life. If not for her pressure, he would’ve bled out because of the location of the bleed.

  That was when Amber let me know that she wanted to become a doctor. It didn’t take her long to jump from that to the idea of a surgeon and then open-heart surgery. It helped that the father of the boy she’d saved was that, and once I discreetly let him know about Amber’s ambitions to become a surgeon, he allowed her to watch a surgery from the gallery.

  She was goodness and hope and love.

  I missed her so much. My heart ached, torn apart.

  “Whatever I have to do to save my family,” I said. “If that means marrying you, then let’s get married.” I swallowed hard as I appraised the emotionless mask of the striking vampire before me who would soon become my husband. I felt so utterly innocent and vulnerable. He knew me so well. Clearly, he did, but I knew nothing about him at all. “When?”

  “Why not now?” he suggested. His devilish grin left me breathless. “This…” He spread out his arms to encompass the ball. “Could be our reception.”

  Was he serious?

  Yes, yes, he was.

  6

  “Wha… What exactly does a vampire wedding entail?” I asked, wincing at my naivety. “Do you… You don’t have to… I mean, we can’t really vow until death do us part.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “And why can’t we? After all, you know firsthand that vampires…”

  My eyes widened, and I grew stricken, glancing around to see if any of the vampires had overheard what he had insinuated. The last thing I wanted was for the others to decide I didn’t deserve Maxwell’s protection. Just because the people were here for his ball didn’t mean they were all allies. I just hoped that no one here was under Viktor’s thumb, but surely Maxwell would know and recognize them by sight, right?

  None of them had smelled the blood on me. It had to still be there. I could feel it on my hands whenever I wrung them, like I was right now.

  “We don’t need to make formal vows,” I said weakly.

  “Ah, but that is what a wedding is, after all, isn’t it?” he asked, his accent growing slightly thicker.

  I swallowed hard. “Do we need…”

  Maxwell raised his arm and snapped his fingers. “Senna!” he called.

  The female from before approached with a cocky smile. She leered at me, openly staring at my throat to the point that I brought a hand up to cover it from sight.

  “I have a request to make,” Maxwell uttered in a tone I hadn’t heard from him yet. Was it… Was he flirting with her? Toying with her? Teasing her? I couldn’t quite tell, but I did know that I didn’t appreciate it.

  Not that I had any true claim to the vampire. He was trying to help me.

  Again, why?

  And then the answer came to me. Yes, he might eventually want to leverage me against Viktor, but until then, he wanted to protect me just because I was an enemy of his enemy. The whole enemy of my enemy is my bride type thing.

  My stomach clenched, and I exhaled loudly.

  “What do you ask of me?” she asked.

  “Will you wed us?”

  “You wish to marry her?”

  I expected disdain to drip from her words, for the words to be spewed out of her mouth as if they were filth, but instead, she merely gave me a slow once-over as if she wished to see what it was that Maxwell saw in me.

  No clue, vampire. I don’t even know myself.

  At any moment, scorn would appear, disgust. She’d wrinkle her nose as if she smelled something repulsive.

  Instead, she merely took my hand and placed it in Maxwell’s.

  “There are many different marital rites,” she murmured. “Which do you prefer?”

  “Whichever one you think most suitable would be sufficient,” he said in that same tone.

  Some vampires could compel humans to make them do things against their will. For a time, I wondered if Maxwell had done something like that, if that could be that bond that tethered us. I came to believe that wasn't the case, but this almost seemed like he was compelling the vampire. Was that possible? Because he was so old? I knew that different vampires had different abilities, but I couldn’t help wondering and wishing I knew more instead of being so naïve and ignorant.

  The female vampire put her hands over mine and Maxwell’s. His large hand engulfed mine, a bit cool to the touch, but hers was like ice and growing colder every second.

  “May you draw from the heat of your passion, from the strength of your love. May the ice of the world never plague you. May you forge your own fire to fight your own fights and protect one another always.”

  I risked a glance up at Maxwell. A muscle in his neck jumped, and he appeared to be… Was he in pain? He was hardly breathing, so tense and rigid beside me, and then, without warning, his hand grew warmer and warmer, almost too hot to touch, and I stared down at our hands, which had been covered in literal ice that was now melting away. Steam rose from our hands, and I couldn't help smiling and laughing as the smoke twisted to form a red heart above us.

  All around us, vampires began to cheer and clap. They approached us, giving us congratulations, not seeming to care at all that their benefactor had married a human whom they had never met before.

  Maxwell humored them for a time, but eventually, he lifted our joined hands. We had never stopped holding them, I realized.

  “If you will be so kind as to excuse us…” Maxwell lifted our hands, and I gaped at him as the vampires all began to laugh and chuckle at his insinuation.

  Surely he couldn’t mean…

  But Maxwell picked me up as a husband would his wife, and he—at human speed—walked over to the stairwell. Then, he used his great speed to zoom us up to a room that was decidedly nothing at all like the small tea room I'd been in earlier. The bed was massive, California king-sized, the sheets black silk. The bed frame was also black with four posts, no curtain. I couldn't tear my gaze from the bed to see the rest of the room, and I blinked several times.

  “Maxwell…”

  With his back to me, he removed his suit jacket cleanly and crisply and then proceeded to methodically unbutton his shirt.

  He couldn’t be serious.

  “We can’t…”

  “We’re husband and wife.”

  “Not really—”

  “We will be once it’s consummated.”

  I swallowed hard.

  “The thought never occurred to you?” He turned about to face me, a wry curl to his lips that could only be described as a smirk.

  �
�We… This is just… We can divorce, right?”

  Maxwell didn’t move a muscle, didn’t blink or breathe.

  “I just…” My mind raced. “I…”

  “Why are you so nervous?” he asked. “I promise not to break you.”

  “I-I’m not afraid of you breaking me,” I stammered.

  “But you are afraid of something, hmm?”

  I swallowed hard.

  He waited, and I slowly nodded.

  “Of me?” he murmured.

  “Of… of it hurting. Of you not enjoying it. Of me bleeding. Of…” The words tumbled out of me, but the widening of his eyes shocked me.

  “Bleeding? I won’t hurt you in any fashion, I assure you.”

  “I… I’ve touched myself down there, but…”

  “You’re a virgin,” he said.

  I nodded.

  “I suspected you were then,” he murmured, turning his head to the side. “You’re a stunningly gorgeous woman. Why is it that another man didn’t think so?”

  “I didn’t want to be with anyone…” I swallowed back the next word in the sentence.

  Else.

  “You didn’t love anyone? You never dated anyone?”

  “What was the point?” I shrugged one shoulder and rubbed the back of my neck.

  “There is always a point to love,” he scolded me.

  My eyes narrowed. “Are you so sure about that? I mean, Viktor killed my sister for revenge, out of a twisted sense of love.”

  Maxwell placed his hands on my shoulders. “I know you’re going through the gamut of emotions right now—grief, anger, fear—”

  “Doubt and guilt too,” I added.

  “You shouldn’t feel guilty.”

  “No? Why not? You don’t know the circumstances as to why I killed Magnus.”

  “No, I don’t, but I do know Viktor, and if Magnus was anything like him, then Magnus was asking for it.” He massaged my shoulders, and his touch did something to me, taking away some of my grief and fear and replacing it with something else altogether, something I suppressed beneath hatred for years now.

  The thing was, Maxwell was right. Magnus had deserved it. I just wished I knew how I did it because I was only human. I wasn’t anything special.

  “But you don’t need to feel anger or fear toward me,” Maxwell continued softly. “I vowed to protect you, and I won’t go against that for as long as we are wed. I will not hurt you, but you must realize that Viktor will know if our marriage is a sham. If he does not believe we are truly wed, he will come after you.”

  “And you?” I asked.

  "You do not need to concern yourself with me," he said, his tone turning gruff.

  I furrowed my brow. “I made vows too,” I said. “We’re to protect each other.”

  “Right now, the only way I can start to protect you is by…” Maxwell inhaled deeply.

  The breath caused his chest to rise, and my gaze fell to his bare torso. I had always thought eight packs were a myth, an urban legend, but he had eight abs. His pants were hung deliciously low across his hips, and he wasn’t wearing a belt. Magic pants. It was the only explanation as to how they didn’t fall down.

  “I need to claim you,” Maxwell murmured.

  How was he standing so close to me? Had he moved? I couldn’t tell. I was nearly dizzy with grief. My sister… my parents…

  He outstretched an arm toward me, but I took a step back, shaking my head.

  I cleared my throat. “I understand if we have to… but my parents… my brother-in-law… my aunt… Word won’t have reached Viktor yet, and he could be moving in on them—”

  “Oh, you sweet summer bella bambina.”

  I flustered. “I’m not a girl. I’m your wife.”

  His smile was crooked and so very sexy. “My bella moglie. Come sei dolce.”

  “I don’t want compliments—”

  “And I don’t want insults.” His dark eyes flashed, the black overtaking the gold. “I have already sent men to go out and protect your family.”

  “Even my aunt?” I asked. He had only just learned about her!

  Maxwell placed his hands on my shoulders. “Even her. I would not bring you here for this purpose…” He tilted his head toward the massive bed. “Not without first ensuring their safety. They are to be brought to safe houses, different ones just to be—”

  “Amber’s husband too?”

  “Yes, mio cara. I will take care of everyone you love and care about.”

  As sweet as his words were, my heart still ached for my sister, but if this was the only way I could help to protect my family…

  I reached out and placed a hand on his chest. To my surprise, I could feel his heart beating.

  “When you refused to let me drink from you, I had to find another,” he explained.

  “I didn’t think…”

  "No two vampires are the same. Not all of us have beating hearts, but most of us have found a way to control the blood we drink and…"

  Confused, I pulled back and glanced down.

  His pants were tented.

  My jaw dropped. I hadn’t even thought about how blood flow was what caused a man to become hard.

  “I… I’m sorry,” I murmured.

  “About?” Clearly amused, he lifted his eyebrows.

  “I don’t know if it will be any good for you,” I explained, staring at his chest instead of his eyes.

  He placed his hand beneath my chin to lift it to force me to look at him.

  “You do not have to worry,” he promised. “I have… some experience in that area, and I will make certain you will feel as little pain as possible for your first time and much pleasure too.”

  Slowly, he turned me around. He unzipped my dress, and I shivered from the cold the moment my dress hit the floor. I could hear him rub his hands together before he turned me back around.

  He still had on his pants and I my bra and panties. His gaze wandered over my body.

  “Pick a word,” he murmured, his word thick.

  I furrowed my brow. “A word?”

  “A word for me to know to stop.”

  A safeword.

  He wanted to give me a measure of control when my life was spiraling so out of control it seemed as if everyone I knew was dying.

  Was being killed.

  By my hand.

  Or another’s because of me.

  Maxwell eyed me, watching me, waiting.

  Did he have a safe word for each and every woman he had been with over the course of his long life?

  I didn’t want to think about that.

  And I didn’t want to think about anything else but this moment. I had dreamed about this for so long—being with Maxwell—and the circumstances were… I wished we could have been together under any other circumstances, but I needed his protection.

  My family needed this.

  And I still needed him.

  I always had.

  “I don’t need one,” I whispered.

  As he watched, I reached behind me and unclasped my bra, letting it fall to the ground. Then I moved to my panties, but he shook his head. My hands trembled as I fumbled with his pants. They fell to the ground, and he stepped out of them smoothly.

  His cock was thick and long. I wanted to touch it, but I felt a little afraid.

  Which only made me think of the fear my sister felt when the vampire attacked her.

  I was doing this for her, for my parents, my family.

  But that wasn’t enough.

  I had to do this for me.

  Because I wanted to.

  And I did. I did want to.

  My hands gripped his cock, stroking it. My touch was a bit weak, but the more I stroke, the more sure I became, the stronger my hold, the faster I stroked. When I dared to look up at Maxwell, his head was back. His neck was long, and his eyes were closed. He looked like a statue of sex and raw masculinity, but his neck was what called to me now.

  Still stroking, I lifted onto my toes a
nd licked the curve of his neck.

  A hiss escaped his lips, and Maxwell swept me into his arms. In two long strides, he deposited me onto the bed, my legs hanging over the side. He stood yet, positioned between my legs, and his fingers trailed down my body from my shoulders over my breasts. He paused there, his fingers teasing my nipples a little before his hands came down to my hips. His fingers hooked my panties, and I thought he would remove them, and he did, in a fashion.

  He ripped them.

  With a growl, he climbed onto the bed. I shifted backward until I was entirely on the bed, and he descended on me, lavishing my body with kisses and tiny nips, using his teeth, not his fangs. When his mouth made its way to my clit, I was frantic with need. My nub was swollen, ready for attention, and I ran my fingers through his hair, gripping the ends, desperate for him to give me release, to take away my pain and exchange it for pleasure.

  His fingers rubbed against my wet folds, and the moment he inserted one, two, three of them—a very tight fit—he bit down on my clit. Not hard, but enough to make me see stars. My orgasm rolled over me, and my back arched as my toes curled. The waves of pleasure shooting through my body were nothing like the times I made myself come—always with the mental image of this very vampire playing in my mind.

  Maxwell eased back, and I stared at him. His chin shone from my juices covering him, and I just stared at him, dazed.

  “We aren’t done yet,” he promised.

  I assumed that would mean that he would enter me now, that he would consummate the marriage, but no. This time, his mouth went to my nipple, and he used his fingers inside me and his thumb on my clit to force another orgasm from me. I was so wet that when he removed his fingers, I could feel my juice run out of me.

  “Are you ready?” he whispered.

  Too desperate at this point, I could only nod in response.

  “How do you want me?” he asked.

  My eyes widened. I had pictured so many different positions, so many different ways that I wanted to be with him.

  The thought of us not shifting at all, for him to mount me and give himself over to me was so very tempting, but as I trailed my fingers up his back, and he closed his eyes, I knew I needed to at least pretend to have control. My life was a mess, and I needed him. I couldn’t do this alone, but maybe I could bring us both to completion.