SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (242 page)

“It’s important for you to relax. Not only for you, but for me. When muscles are relaxed, the valves in your veins close, keeping the blood in place.”

To distract herself, she went back to nursing his cock. Besides, once the euphoria of being fed upon overcame her, she wouldn’t know what hit her. She would be happily drugged.

Too drugged to know if he drank too much?

Zap.

He pierced her thigh, his fangs razor sharp. Twin blades of pain. Twin blades of excitement. Tessa couldn’t see his face, but she envisioned his transformation, imagining the red of his eyes, the vampire hunger coursing through him.

* * *

Anthony went after her femoral artery, drinking from a vein that provided blood to her thigh. He’d never fed from this spot on anyone before, and it was dangerously lewd.

Especially with her giving him a blow job. The pressure. The motion. The sinful joy. But he’d vowed not to take too much, and he wouldn’t. Somehow, some way, he would stop himself from overindulging.

But saint’s alive, he couldn’t imagine anything better. She pleasured him with ladylike suction.

She gave incredible head.

Yes, he thought, she was a natural. Of course by now, the feeding was starting to affect her senses.

His senses were affected, too. Tessa’s blood tasted like the richest, full-bodied, most flavorful wine. It was easy to get drunk on her.

She paused long enough to whisper, “Drink, Anthony, drink.”

Her words rippled across his cock, and he took the offering. He drank and drank.

And drank some more.

She had a lush little mouth, and he was fucking it, matching her rhythm to heighten the feeling.

All he wanted was to come.

And drink.

And come.

But if he didn’t come soon, he would leave her weak and depleted.

Tessa mewled. She lifted her hips, too, thrusting her cunt forward.

On the verge of taking too much, too fast, Anthony forced himself to stop drinking.

“More,” she said, obviously too dizzy to know that she was making his hunger worse.

“In a second.”

“More now.”

“No.”

“Please.”

Her begging was almost too much to bear. He grasped her hair and tugged her down, keeping her quiet.

She used her hands and her mouth, and when he was on the edge of orgasm, he finished drinking, spilling his seed at the same time.

The climax of all climaxes.

He moved away from her and sat back on his haunches. He’d yet to retract his fangs. In fact, he was running his tongue over them, savoring the flavor.

Tessa leaned against the headboard, her limbs akimbo, rose petals scattered on the bed. Somewhere in the midst of their naughty escapade, her corsage had lost some of its life.

He glanced at her thigh. “That’s probably going to bruise.”

She smiled, shrugged, still stoned, apparently. “Sometimes I bruise after getting blood tests.”

This was no test. This was the real deal. He finally put his fangs back where they belonged. He had the urge to feed again, which would be unthinkable.

Instead, he drew her into his arms and eased her down, holding her as if his immortality depended on it.

The Vampire Pendant: Chapter Eight

The first week went by in a whirlwind. Each day Tessa spent with Anthony was absolutely amazing. On this bright and beautiful day, they kicked back by their private plunge pool, soaking up rays.

She glanced over at her companion. “Who knew that I would be tanning with a vampire?”

“I’m not a vampire. If I was, I would have exploded in the sun by now. And technically, I’m not tanning. The pigment of my skin isn’t going to change, no matter how much time I spend out here.”

“Details. Details.” She streamed her gaze along his body. They were both sunbathing in the nude, draped over lounge chairs on their stomachs, with their bottoms in the air.

He returned the exchange, checking out her nakedness, too. “Let me put more lotion on you. You’re getting pink.”

She went smug. “Heaven forbid, I should burn.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Was that a joke?”

Mercy, she thought. It was. “That’s even weirder than pretending to tan with a gen-vamp. Me, making cracks about the fire.”

“I’m glad you’re learning to be flippant. But you’re still getting pink.” He picked up the sun block. “Now keep still and let me rub this on your butt.”

“Is that the pinkest part of me?”

“It’s the most inviting. But I’ll put it on the rest of you, too.”

She closed her eyes while he applied the lotion. He massaged her skin with strong, capable hands, kneading her muscles. She moaned her thanks.

“What are we going to do tonight?” she asked.

“We’re going to get wicked.”

She popped her eyes open. “Like the BDSM stuff you do with Simone. I don’t think—”

“Don’t worry. That isn’t what I meant.”

Her breath rushed out. “Then what did you mean?”

“We’re going to see the show.
Wicked
. The musical,” he clarified. “It’s playing at the Pantages, and I got tickets.”

“Oh, that’s awesome. Way better than getting chained to the bed with a whip across my back.”

“Or your butt.” He smacked the area in question, albeit softly.

“Ha. Ha.” She rolled over to look at him, her mind cluttered with curiosity. “Do you like getting rough with Simone?”

“She likes it.”

“Yes, Anthony, but do
you
like it?”

“It wouldn’t be my sex of choice. But it’s important to play those types of games with Simone. Otherwise she would be bored. I’d rather not play them with you, so it’s okay that you don’t want to engage in rough acts.” He flashed his signature grin. “Not that you’re a total innocent. Not anymore.”

“The blow job feeding pushed me past that.”

“You have no idea how badly I wanted to keep drinking.”

“But you held back.” She sat forward and looped her arms around his neck. “The man has restraint.”

“Oh, yeah?” He stood up and scooped her over his shoulder.

“Don’t you dare!” She protested, sensing that he was going to toss her, head over pink-tinged ass, into the pool.

Sure enough, he did. She went sailing and hit the water like a bomb. But she managed to latch onto him, forcing him to fall in, too. Together they made an even bigger splash.

They came up for air, laughing and spewing the taste of chlorine. Then they went for the taste of a kiss. Then the flavor of each other’s bodies, until they couldn’t take another minute of foreplay and went full bore.

Fucking good and wickedly hard.

* * *

When Anthony and Tessa returned from the play, they went for a walk in the garden outside their bungalow. It was a lovely evening, Anthony thought. The show had been brilliant, the kind of entertainment that charmed you long after it was over, and now he and Tessa were immersed in scattered moonlight and tropical plants.

“It seemed real,” she said.

“The play?”

“Yes. But that’s because I know that magic actually exists. Do you think that the realm Mathieu is from is as enchanted as Oz? That his castle is paved in gold?” She clutched her necklace. “Or dappled in rubies?”

“The only part of his castle I saw was the jewelry room, so there was plenty of gold and precious stones around.”

“I can only imagine.”

“He’s extremely rich and powerful in his world. When he swooped down to save us, the air swirled around him. His energy was electrifying.”

“Is he young and handsome like a storybook prince? White-haired like a wizard? Or something in between?”

“He appears to be in his twenties, and he’s handsome. But he’s a king, not a prince, and he’s thousands of years old. If Simone had her way, she would slice his throat and let him bleed to death. But it takes a Jinn dagger to kill a genie, and those types of daggers are nearly impossible to find. In Muslim and Islamic cultures jinn is another name for genie, and Jinn daggers are protected by Allah’s angels.”

“Why would Simone want to murder Mathieu? He saved your lives.”

“Because she thinks that being imprisoned in jewelry is worse than death. She would have preferred to be staked.”

Her voice turned quiet. “I understand how she feels.”

“Why? Because having your face damaged was worse than death? What happened to the flippant attitude you had earlier?”

“It’s gone, I guess.” She paused. “So tell me, what does Simone look like?”

“She’s a fair-skinned brunette with blue eyes and a lilting accent. I was quite taken with her on the night we met. But she proved to be too temperamental for my tastes. I’m not saying that I don’t care for her. I do. But she’s explosive.” He laughed at the irony. “Like Mathieu. They would probably make a good match. He could handle her temper, I’m sure.”

“Gosh, don’t tell her you said that.”

“Believe me, I won’t.” He glanced over at Tessa, concerned for her future. “I wish you felt differently about yourself. That your appearance didn’t dictate how you lived your life.”

She stopped walking and turned toward him. “Promise me that when this is over, you won’t ever try to see the real me. I want you to remember me this way.”

He frowned, caught in the guilt of his lie. Now he wondered if he should have told her from the start that he’d already seen her true appearance. That he knew exactly what she looked like behind the veil of magic. Or that whenever he chose to see the real her, he could.

“Promise me,” she insisted.

“I promise,” he replied, not having the heart to admit the truth. But still, he went ahead and changed her in his eyes, so he could look upon her scarred face. He reached out and caressed the damaged skin, too. If she knew what he was doing, she would cringe with shame. “Let’s go inside.”

“What for?”

“To make love.” He wanted to be with her while she looked this way. He wanted to mate with the true Tessa.

And remember every passionate moment.

* * *

Tessa stood beside the bed as Anthony removed her clothes. He’d already stripped down, and he was aroused. She couldn’t stop looking at him. He couldn’t seem to stop looking at her, either.

They tumbled onto the covers and kissed as deeply as they could. His hands were everywhere, giving her glorious goose bumps. He put his tongue along the shell of her ear, intensifying the feeling.

“I still need to feed tonight,” he said.

“You can do it now. Or after you’re inside me. It’s up to you.” She would accept his bite however he administered it.

“I’ll do it before. I want us to be our true selves when we’re mating. I want the euphoria to come from the sex, not the taking of blood.”

Could he be any more romantic?

When his eyes turned red, she started. The color seemed stronger tonight, brighter, and far more dangerous. Then she realized why.

She was falling in love with Anthony.

Tessa fought her next breath. She should have known it would happen. She should have been prepared for her attachment to him to turn into something deeper.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Your eyes are redder than usual.”

“I can’t control them when I’m feeding.”

And she couldn’t control losing her heart to him. “I know.”

His fangs popped through his gums, gleaming in the light. Every lamp in the bedroom shined bright. Anthony had wanted to leave them on.

He lowered his head and sank his teeth into her neck, piercing her like the kiss of a viper. She thrived on being fed upon, on giving him nourishment. But why wouldn’t she? Considering that she loved him.

As he took what he needed, the drugged sensation flowed through her body, making her moan. It also made her feel sexual, as it had from the beginning. She rubbed against his leg.

“Fuck me,” she said.

“Not until it’s over.”

Damn, he was stubborn. She had no choice but to wait. He drank quickly and efficiently, pinning her to the bed.

After he was done, he rolled away from her, but not so far that he couldn’t continue to hold her hand.

They both lay, side by side, gazing at the ceiling.

He seemed to know when she was no longer stoned, because as the sensation faded, he turned toward her.

“You’re beautiful, Tessa.”

“So are you, Anthony.” His eyes were back to normal and filled with tenderness.

“Men aren’t beautiful.”

“Some men are.”

“People didn’t say that in my day.”

“People say it now.”

They reached for each other, and she pulled him close. She had no idea what she was going to do about loving him, except suffer through it in silence.

He entered her, and she arched her hips. He moved, hard and sleek, creating a sinuous rhythm.

Their gazes locked. So did their hands. They rolled over the bed, their fingers intertwined. Tessa held on, as tightly as she could, trying to stop time from running out.

* * *

A week later, on their final full day together, they explored Hollywood like a couple of anxious tourists. Tomorrow morning, it was all coming to an end.

Tessa glanced over at the man she loved. He was behind the wheel of a rented convertible, and she rode shotgun, with a scarf tied around her hair, ala Audrey Hepburn.

As they cruised through the city, she recapped their day so far. They’d already strolled down the Walk of Fame, reading the names of the TV and movie personalities on the sidewalks. They’d done every goofy thing vacationers did, right down to comparing their handprints and footprints to the impressions at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. Of course Anthony had actually known some of the people who were featured there. Tessa would be forever fascinated by his Old Hollywood roots.

She would be forever fascinated by him, too. Should she go ahead and tell him that she loved him? Maybe tomorrow, before the ax fell, she would summon the strength to profess her feelings. Not that it would change anything. But to walk away without saying anything was starting to seem worse. She ached so badly, she could cry.