Hunger Aroused (4 page)

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck.

This was not what he meant to happen. Not by a long shot. He had seconds, a minute max, before Jasmine awoke—and brother, when she did, she was going to be pissed. If he thought she'd been wild and dangerous before, it came nowhere close to the feral beast that would awaken. Why the hell did she let herself get so worked up? So he'd left out the part about her intense fear and holding her breath against the onslaught of emotions piling up on her, thus making her a prime candidate for losing consciousness. A temporary reprieve, sure, but it wouldn't indefinitely stave off what her body longed for. As a healthcare worker, she should have known better.

Fuck.

As if on cue, her eyes opened.

Jasmine's mouth opened in a noiseless scream. Already he saw the points of her incisors getting longer. Before long she would be capable of piercing skin and drawing upon the blood she so desperately craved, yet did not realize was what she hungered after.

Her body bucked beneath his, and Corin lost all hope of trying to draw the information out of her. He wondered if he was strong enough to battle the scent of her arousal, the sweet cinnamon draw of her skin as the transformation moved through her body, changing her permanently. Mother Nature, or whatever damned creature had decided the vampire should live and procreate, made good and certain new vampires kept their sires' attention, at least until capable of fending for themselves. It didn't matter that he had nothing to do with creating her. All that mattered was that chemical intoxication she sent scattering into the atmosphere.

Always in his dealings, he dealt with both a fledgling and its sire. Always. How to handle this, how to avoid her lure, was nothing short of foreign. He only knew of the cure that sires fed to their charges to aid their transitions.

Only knew that in this case,
he
wanted to be the cure.

“I hurt,” Jasmine whispered.

She spoke so gently, so calmly, he hesitated. Maybe this wasn't—

In one sudden move, Corin found himself on his back, Jasmine straddling his waist. She rocked her hips over his pelvis, slowly making her way down to where his erection pressed almost painfully against the denim of his pants.

A woman who could flip his bulk without breaking a sweat? Impressive.

“It's happening quickly.” Even he couldn't disguise his surprise, and admittedly, excitement, at the prospect. His strength still outmatched hers, but for a few seconds more, he allowed himself the thrill of watching her above him. Curly hair cascading down the sides of her face, falling over her shoulders, reminded him too much of a woman who indeed rode him to her pleasure. And gods, if he gazed too long on the creamy pale skin, the little dots of freckles that decorated bare shoulders…if he looked too long upon blue eyes hazy with lust and flushed cheeks, his cock went from painful to sentient.

Jasmine ignored his observation of the obvious and continued that slow drag of her pussy on his sensitive tip. In mere minutes, the panties separating them wouldn't be enough to keep him restrained. He hurt too. Ached almost as badly as she did to be inside her.

She leaned closer, her mouth scant inches away from his. “You should be very afraid, Corin. I'm feeling very—” she tilted her head, pondering the word, “—hungry.”

Yes. Gods, yes. Hungry—that's what he wanted to hear. As he suspected, the change wove through her so quickly, one cycle melted into the next without slowing. Then again, as her hunger amped, so would her appetite for more.

His eyes slipped closed when her face brushed along his cheek. She rubbed herself on him like a cat, her scent so strong next to him, he bit back a low moan. A demand that she give him more.

He should be taking back control of this situation. Instead of pushing her away, putting some distance between them, his hands rested on her hips. Held on as her pelvis tilted back and forth, teasing him into granite hardness. The scent of her sex, the cinnamon, it was almost too much to bear. Enticing enough to make him want to drown in it.

Think.
Swallowing hard, Corin kept his eyes closed, but forced his mind to work. To not give in…not yet. “I don't know how else he could have approached you.” Fingers with a mind of their own curled into the straps of material covering her hips.

“There's been,” she inhaled deeply against his skin, “no one.”

That confession thrilled him.
Thrilled.
“A moment of lost consciousness perhaps, then,” Corin mused.

Jasmine started to pull on his shirt, inch by inch withdrawing it from the waist of his pants. Every time her skin caressed his, whether by design or by accident, his stomach clenched in response. “Not that I know of,” she countered.

The sound of fabric ripping filled the space of silence before Corin realized he was the cause. Sensible white panties hung in tatters from his hands. His mind blanked at his next realization: Jasmine no longer wore them.

Her startled laughter prompted him to open his eyes. She was so lovely. Delicate and sensual and just lovely. A visual feast. “You no longer hurt.”

“Oh, but I do….”

Arousal gave her some of the endorphins needed. Not enough to take away the pain, but perhaps enough to dull it. “That's good.” He trailed the tips of his fingers along her soft thighs, not daring to look down. If he was afforded one glimpse of her naked sex, saw how teasingly close he was to pushing inside of her, he'd embarrass himself before they had a chance to really get started. “Come here and let me take the rest away then. I need you…thinking clearly.”

Jasmine frowned, her confusion apparent. Corin didn't wait for her to understand. She squealed when he lifted her effortlessly, pulling her forward until she straddled his face. Strength he didn't think he possessed before kept his sanity intact as he stared.

Her pink folds glistened, the perfume of her cunt exhilarating. He used his fingers to spread her labia, the engorged nub of her clit exposed for his viewing pleasure. “My gods,” he whispered. Mouth watering, he licked his lips and then extended his tongue for the first taste.

He shouldn't be doing this. She was his job. Another fledgling whose face he would force himself to forget. She represented a past their kind couldn't go back to.

The moment he tasted the luxurious syrup of her body, however, those thoughts tumbled away.

Lusty cries filled the air as he ate from her like a starved man. Drank down the evidence of her arousal. His flattened tongue raked over her clit, long, slow strokes that made her body quiver. He moved his hold, making certain he kept her immobile. Ensured she endured his assault. Her thighs flexed beneath his grip, her body rocking and twisting. It inspired him to continue letting his tongue dance between the lips of her sex. To delve into her silken sheath.

Jasmine grasped his hands, their fingers embracing. No words were needed. He wanted so much to please her, to make her body shudder beneath his efforts. The pain of the change was something no one should have to suffer through alone. And she was a new breed, a vampire whose origin defied tradition. For that alone, she deserved more.

“Yes, Corin, yes!”

He loved hearing the way she said his name. The heat of her passion made his balls tighten, his cock leak. He lapped greedily, breath held, waiting to hear her say it again. Her passionate, throaty enunciation that pierced him thoroughly.

She fell forward instead, her hands leaving his in time to catch herself from collapsing altogether. The moan that tore through her chest made his own hips buck. Soon she was trembling, a convulsion that shook her entire body. Corin held on, waiting expectantly, knowing soon she would peak, tipping over a summit that left her free-falling. As the first cry, a different sound—one of rapture—amplified into the air, he pushed two probing fingers into her clenching cunt. He curled them into her, stroking and encouraging the way she gripped him. “That's it. Come for me.”

Her moisture ran down his hand, coated his lips, and he lapped it up greedily. Time passed as she trembled, her cries now groans. Perspiration now mingled with the scent of cinnamon. He would have lain beneath her forever if given a choice, but all too soon she lifted the intimate part of herself away from his face. Slid down his body until her head lay against his chest.

So thoroughly pleased with his efforts, he dismissed the ache in his balls. The time for being with her was not quite right yet. He couldn't place his finger on why, but right now, during her transition, he wanted for her. He could and would be patient.

“Thank you,” she murmured. Her body molded well against his. Her petite frame an odd comfort to him.

He licked the remaining taste of her essence from his lips and let the moment pass. Above them, a ceiling fan twirled lazily, and he thought of his own home. So different from hers. His was a place to sleep, to store his belongings. Hers, on the other hand, nourished him. It made him think of families and children. Of what living a life with others might be like.

They were stupid thoughts. Crazy thoughts. Fantasies no executioner should ever have. His life was harsh and lonely. A solitary existence he chose for himself without regret.

Jasmine lifted her head. “I still don't understand why you do this for me.” She laughed mirthlessly. “Or why I continue to let you.”

He knew, but didn't voice it. Something told him that her body understood his. Pitied his. “Creating a vampire is simple,” he answered instead. “Usually during the heat of passion—”

“I told you, nothing like that has happened.”

“
Usually
during passion, the sire drinks from his intended, although it's not necessary. What is necessary is for the recipient to take in the sire's blood. It's dangerous to allow someone who doesn't know what they're doing to drink from you, but again, that's why it happens during a climactic moment. The haze of sexual lust typically tempers blood lust.”

She went still. “Wait a minute. A blood exchange? Is that what you're saying?”

“It's more than that.”

“But that's the crux of what you're saying, right?”

He thought it over. “If you break it down to its most rudimentary, then I guess yes.”

The heat of her body moved away as she fell onto her back. He turned to watch her, his eyebrows furrowing. “Jasmine?”

“If we went any further, I would have insisted on condoms. Not just for my safety, but for yours as well.” Her eyes slipped closed. “I've been worrying myself sick over communicable diseases.”

When he'd been mortal, those words might have sent chills over him. In his current life, nothing she might carry would affect him, so he dismissed the words. “I'm incapable of passing anything along to you. Even if I weren't, I'm disease free. Always have been.”

“Not you. This.” She lifted her wrist. “How much blood would have to be exchanged?”

Her question baffled him. “It's not only the exchange.”

“How much?”

His shoulders lifted and fell. “I don't know. A small amount would be sufficient, I guess. I've never thought about it.”

Jasmine studied the palm of her hand before turning it toward him. “We brought in a John Doe into the clinic a few days ago. Shot and dumped right outside our doors. He was thrashing like a son of a bitch, and I needed a blood sample.”

He watched her face pale, as if the memory went beyond merely haunting her.

“In eight years of nursing, I've never been stuck before. I'm always so careful. I still don't know how it happened. One careless stupid slip of the syringe, and some stranger's blood mingled with mine.” She turned, looked at him with sad eyes. “I guess we know now how I've been turned into a vampire.”

Her mind went in seven different directions at once. Corin's erection lay trapped beneath the weight of her leg, a subtle reminder that he'd asked for nothing since coming into her life. She felt selfish—and a little aroused, truth be told—but this whole vampire thing toyed with her emotions.

“Gods, that…I don't know what to say. It's not impossible, I suppose, but I've never heard…” Corin blew out a breath. “That's a great theory for how the blood entered your system, but there's more to the process, Jasmine.”

“What else is there?”

“Your heart. It would have to stop beating at some point.”

“What?”

Corin sat up, shimmied away from her and propped himself against a pillow and the headboard. Jasmine found herself laying her head on his thigh as he talked. An unfamiliar gesture, but one that felt very right. “This is what
should
have happened. During a sexual act, to heighten the type of lust the sire is looking for, a recipient would have consumed some of the sire's blood.”

“I'm sorry, but I don't see myself getting so worked up that I'd drink someone's blood.”

Corin shot her an amused glance. “You'd be surprised.” Jasmine shuddered, and he laughed. “Anyway, afterward, even if she ingested a very small amount of his blood, the sire would drain her. Enough to make the heart stop pumping. That's the key to transition. During that time, his blood blossoms within her veins and, like a virus, grows and overtakes the system. It won't work otherwise.”

“Oh my God.”

“So for you to be changing now, your heart would have stopped beating sometime in the last few days. At the risk of asking the obvious, can you think of any time
that
might have happened?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Then we're back to where we started.”

Her mind continued its rapid turning and processing of information. “Not quite, Corin. You said you had to find my sire. Now that you know he's not really responsible for changing me, not really, what now? Is there still a warrant on my head?”

He turned his face away and said softly, “It's still not my decision to make, Jasmine.”

“Then why are you here? Why are you helping me? You've already said it's not your responsibility!”

“I don't know, honestly. The council needs to be informed. The rules have changed.”

She had no idea what rules he referred to, but yeah, she'd have to agree whatever rules he talked about had changed. She didn't ask for this. Still didn't want it in her life. Their liaisons kept her sated and sane, but when he was finished, when he came to complete whatever task drove him, what happened then? This was not a romance blooming between them. They shared passion at its most primitive. He didn't offer love, nor would she have accepted it, but knowing his views hadn't shifted, that some mission overrode anything that
could
happen, made her want to weep.

His leg moved, and Jasmine lifted her head. Corin sighed. “I have to think.”

She watched him leave the comfort of her bed, and pulled the disheveled blanket across her lap. Ever stoic, Corin tucked in the shirt she'd tugged free from his pants, pacing the room as he did.

Watching him move was a lesson in stimulation for the senses. He walked with the grace of a jungle cat, his height and mass lending him an air of fluidity. Granted, just about everyone stood taller than she, but Corin filled the room with his presence. A being larger than life.

In another time and place, she would have relished the idea of being pursued by him.

“Aren't you hot?” she asked, more to keep her thoughts along a more reasonable line.

His head jerked around. “What?”

“I think we can agree you've pretty much camped out here, if only for the time being. That leather duster doesn't look incredibly comfortable.”

She didn't like the look that crossed his face one bit. Danger lingered there. Another reminder that he planned on ending her life. She forced herself not to dwell on it for the moment. She had to focus on this new world he introduced her to and how to ultimately stay alive.

In one smooth move Corin pushed the duster from one shoulder, letting gravity take it off the other. Her pulse quickened as she watched. Hidden beneath the leather, he wore a sleeveless black tee. Toned, muscled arms flexed as he caught the duster and draped it over the edge of the bed. The black material did an impressive job of hiding the hard cuts of his abdomen, but she'd already felt them during her exploration before. Even now, her mouth went dry with the memory.

She scrutinized two leather straps circling around his back, and she stilled. “Gun?”

Corin didn't answer at first, instead sliding his arms free of the straps. “Guns don't work on our kind.”

Our kind.

Her gaze drifted to the contraption he held in his hand. Four wooden stakes—stakes?—were strapped inside a holder, dangling deceptively. As if they were only along for the ride and had no intention whatsoever of doing in anyone. “Are those…”

“Made of ash. Like I said, some of the rumors are true, and some are false.”

“So, what…you're going to stake me at the first opportunity?”

His nod was curt, final. The look in his eyes, regretful. “Once you've completed the change, yes.”

Blood drained from her face, making her head swim. “How much time do I have?”

“I really don't know. Hours. No more than a few days.”

Something goaded her to push him. He held back something from her, some kernel of knowledge that made him hesitate. She felt it. “But?”

“Nothing.”

“Damn it, Corin, we're talking about my life here. I walked into your world completely by accident, and if there's something else I need to know, start telling me.”

He said quietly, “He'll know of you sooner or later. He might come looking for you.”

“Who?”

“What happened to the left-for-dead? He wouldn't have allowed himself to be taken.”

“Who? Oh, him.” John Doe. She shrugged. “Taken away in an ambulance not too long after the incident. What do you mean he'll know of me?”

“You're his kindred now. You carry something like a genetic marker that will make him aware of you.”

“So?”

Corin walked to the accent chair by her vanity and sat. “We live a very, very long time. Not a life of immortality as fiction would have you believe, but long enough to grow bored and restless. If he's mature, he might not care. Maybe he'll come after you just to satisfy some curiosity and merely watch from afar.

“Or he'll come after you because he's angry. Intentional or not, he's broken a law, and there will be consequences for that. He might take that anger out on you.”

Great. So instead of just one vampire out for her head, there would be two. “I don't get your world at all. So, he'll just save you some time and effort—whatever, right?” For all the bravado she showed, her stomach clenched in fear.

Corin stood again. “No! Not right. There are laws and rules to be followed.”

“To hell with your rules.”

“Rules are the basic foundation for any civilization. For everything that we do. If just one person chooses not to follow them—”

“Who said anything about not following them? You're going to kill me. Your stupid rules are then upheld.”

She ran out of emotional steam abruptly. As if her mind caught up to the conversation at last and didn't have the strength to fight. Fortunately, some other part of her psyche reacted violently to the idea of giving up.

Only then did she notice Corin's silence. The way his gaze darted to her and then away again. The indecision warring within him. She didn't understand it except to know any doubt he faced was her friend.

“I know you work for some council, but what is your role, Corin? Why are you, of all people, here?”

“As executioner, I uphold all of our rules.”

“Who does this?” Jasmine tried to push down the emotion swelling inside. “Is that what it means to be vampire? Experience sexual intimacy like what we just shared, but then toss it aside so casually to talk of rules and duty?”

“You don't know anything of my—our—world. Not yet.”

“Then teach me!”

“No.”

Jasmine canted her face upward, looking for some kind of reprieve from heaven. After a long pause, she asked him, “Were you ever human?”

“Yes.”

Jasmine shifted. “Prove it.”

“How?”

“Don't kill me. Let me go.”

He shook his head. “I can't do that.”

“What can you do then?”

“After what we've done, the intimacy—as you call it—will be why I will deliver the fatal strike.”

“Don't.” She held up a hand. “Don't make it sound like you don't have a choice.”

“But I don't.”

“If that's what you have to tell yourself to kill me in the end, then hold on to it, Corin. But you know nothing about this is right. I don't deserve to die, and I don't deserve this so-called life being thrust on me.”

His shoulders slumped. “It's not so bad, our existence.”

“But I'll never know, will I?” When he didn't answer, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, ignored her nudity and stormed away from him. Light she thought she'd seen blooming in his eyes winked out, his expression dead in an instant. “Never mind,” she muttered. “I'm going to take a shower.”

He hadn't indicated how long she had before the heat overtook her again, but standing under the spray of water came a close second to the orgasmic bliss she'd been subjected to twice already.

She leaned forward, letting her face press against cool shower tile. Letting tears of frustration slide down her face, free at last to flow without being seen by him.

Damn him.

Were the tears because she feared becoming a vampire, or for having become a vampire's prey?

She'd worked like a dog to put herself through nursing school. Worked even harder every day with the patients who depended on her for their care. Finally she'd found a place where she was comfortable both financially and emotionally. She was ready to settle down with a good, honest man; maybe start a family soon, too.

And instead, this fiasco was what she got for her trouble.