Dark Destiny (Principatus) (18 page)

“Ven?”

Amy’s voice, brittle with shocked confusion, sounded behind him.

He froze.

And then the sweet, sweet scent of her body slipped into his nose, delicate, salty and honeyed at once and his tenuous hold on his starving demon shattered.

He spun, locking his stare on her stunned eyes as he whipped out his arm and curled his fingers around her neck. “I’m hungry,” he whispered, and drove her back into her apartment, kicking the door shut behind him as he did so.

He forced her across the small living room, mindless of her stumbling feet. Her back slammed against the far wall, rattling the small photo frames hanging on it hard enough for one—an image of Amy and her parents—to jump from its nail and fall to the floor.

The glass shattered with a crack, spitting razor-edged shards at Ven’s leg, but he didn’t care. He had the potent scent of Amy’s blood in his nose. Nothing mattered except quenching his thirst and sating his hunger.

He rammed her harder to the wall, his fingers gripping her neck enough to keep her in his grasp, not enough to restrict her breathing. She stared at him, eyes wide and shining with shock. Her flesh felt warm under his palm, the beat of her pulse a wild hammer against his lifeline.

“Ven?” she whispered, voice hoarse. “The sun’s up. How can you…”

Smacking the inside of his booted foot against the inside of her naked one, he spread her legs apart and smashed his groin to her sex, bringing his face so close to hers he could feel the air displaced by her eyelashes. “It’s a brand new world, love,” he growled against her cheek. “And I’m a whole new vampire.” He pushed his thick erection to the dome of her pussy, covered only by a thin pair of white cotton knickers. “Can’t you feel it?”

She whimpered, pulse quickening into a rapid cadence. The bloodlust roared through Ven’s veins at the submissive sound, stoking the burning hunger in his gut and core. The smell of her life force tainted the air with its delicious aroma and he drew it greedily into his being with long, deliberate breaths. It almost drove him insane, it was so tantalizing. His fangs grew longer—longer than they’d ever been while he still wore his human face—and the demon within him snarled. Impatient, furious and aroused.

He thrust his cock to Amy’s cunt and bared his teeth, letting her see what was about to pierce her delicate, salty flesh.

Her eyes widened more, fear flashing in their chocolate-brown depths.

A rush of dark jubilation licked through him. She was petrified. He could smell it, not only in the blood in her veins, but in the sweat on her skin. It leeched from her the same way it had leeched from the cattle back on the street—thick and sweet and oh, so delectable.

Ven sank his fingers harder into her neck, taking more of her fear in through his nose. Fuck, it was delicious.

“Ven?”

Amy’s voice trembled in his ear, sending another wave of bloodlust straight to his groin. He pulled in a deeper breath, savoring the stench of her fear. Now he understood the appeal of hunted prey. What must the knowledge they were being stalked do to the adrenaline levels in their blood? Why hadn’t he realized what he was missing sooner? An angry groan rumbled in his chest and he felt the muscles in his face shift slightly, puckering his forehead into a less-than-human frown. All those years feeding from the willing…Christ! What a waste.

“Ven…” Amy squirmed against him, her nails digging into his wrist. Her thighs pressed his, rubbing and sliding over his legs as she struggled to move beneath his pinning weight. The sound of her cotton-covered arse sliding against the drywall behind her heated Ven’s blood even more, the feel of her long nails driving into his flesh making his demon purr with rapture.

“Oh, lord, Ven…” she moaned, “…yes.”

The words punched into Ven’s chest like a fist of ice and he pulled back, staring into her eyes.

Yes?

Imprisoning her against the wall with his hips and hand, his palm pressed to her frenzied pulse, he drew in a longer, deeper breath.

Fear laced her scent, like aniseed through vanilla, but there was something else. Saliva flooded his mouth and his demon roared. His hunger spiked to a greater, darker level. Amy was scared, petrified in fact, and at the same time more turned on than he’d ever found her before.

The conflicting combination was intoxicating.

Addictive.

Fresh bloodlust swept through him and he narrowed his eyes, not releasing his grip on her neck. Incapable of doing so even if he wanted to. His demon controlled him now. Ravenous and licentious.

Jesus, Steven…what kind of monster
are
you?

“Fuck me, Ven,” Amy murmured, gazing up at him with abject terror and desire shining in her eyes. “Fuck me and bite me. I’m yours to use and devour.”

His demon growled and Ven felt his entire human facade shift. “You’re playing with fire, little girl.”

Amy gasped, recoiling from him as far as the wall would let her, which was not at all. She whimpered again, eyes bulging…and then wrapped her right leg around the back of his thighs to force her cunt closer to his cock. “I know.”

Flashing her a cold grin, Ven forced his demon back down and thrust his straining erection harder to Amy’s sex. She moaned, eyes closing, lips parted. “Oh, God, Ven…”

Lifting her feet from the floor, he shoved her legs further apart with his knees and jabbed his cock—still restrained by the denim of his jeans—to the musk-drenched crotch of her cotton panties. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you? Just as much as you want me to sink my teeth into your neck and feed on your blood.”

Eyes fluttering open, Amy nodded. She squirmed in his hold, rolling her sex over the bulging shape of his erection even as her pulse leapt into frantic flight at his course statement.

His grin stretched wider and he leant into her more, letting her feel not only the undeniable strength of his rigid shaft, but the inescapable steel in his body as well. “Which will it be first, then? Fuck or feed?”

Amy swallowed, her throat working against his grip on her neck. “Feed.”

Her whisper sent a prickling ripple over Ven’s cool flesh. He studied her, noting the desperation and euphoric terror in her eyes.

“Fuck, then,” he growled.

“No.”

Her cry of dismay made him chuckle. And mad. The human in him knew she’d been his willing “donor” for three years because she longed for the rapture of the feed. The vampire in him despised the idea she used him for her own pleasure. Tightening his grip on her neck, he snaked his free hand down her waist to the band of her knickers, hooked his thumb past the elastic and jerked his arm outward.

The soft cotton tore to shreds, stripping Amy’s sex of any protection the underpants provided from his appetite. She squealed, bucking against the wall, her fingers scrambling at his wrist, her nipples turning into rock-hard points of flesh against his chest.

The subtle scent of her juices flooded his nose. He plunged his hand into the junction of her thighs, parting her sodden folds with two fingers before impaling her on them.

She squealed again, her hips driving into his brutal invasion, her pulse pounding, her eyes alight with excited fear. The sight stung Ven with contemptuous disgust, but he ignored it, stabbing deeper into her tight, dripping sex until the base knuckles of his fingers ground against the tiny nub of her clit.

“Lord, yes!” Amy cried, writhing against him.

“The Lord has nothing to do with this, little girl,” Ven growled, wriggling his fingers in her cunt. The walls of her pussy gripped and squeezed each digit. He could feel the warmth of her pleasure oozing over his hand. He pulled in a breath, tasting her desire on the air as surely as he tasted her fear.

She didn’t know what he was going to do next. He could see that plainly in her eyes. She didn’t know when he was going to stop his assault, and neither did he.

“Yes,” she moaned, closing her eyes to the sight of him.

He stabbed his fingers harder into her cunt. “Look at me, little girl.”

His order snapped her eyes open and she quivered, though from terror or pleasure he could not tell and didn’t care.

“That’s better. You wanted this, Amy Elizabeth Mathieson. To be fucked and fed on by a monster and I will give it to you.”

She shuddered, an abrupt orgasm rocking through her. She cried out, her pussy constricting around his fingers, her nails gouging at his wrist.

Ven chuckled, fully aware he was losing himself to his demon and relishing in the release and freedom. This is what it was to be a vampire. This overwhelming sense of power. Of dominance.

Fangs elongating further still, hot saliva coating his tongue and the back of his throat, he yanked his fingers from her cunt, lifted her higher from the floor and spun about. Her sofa sat behind them, covered in large cushions of all manner of fabric. They had made love on that sofa more than once over the last three years. He’d fed from her neck, her inner thigh, the undercurve of her breast many, many times there. But this morning, on the dawn of his new existence, he was going to treat her the way a true vampire treated his food source. The way she wanted to be treated. The way she feared being treated.

He threw her down, tore his fly apart, ripped his jeans from his legs and grabbed her hips, yanking them upward until his cock sank into her soaked pussy, stretching it to maximum.

She was tight and wet and hot. The perfect example of the human female.

And yet you want more?

Her scared, euphoric cry drowned the unnerving thought, turned his cold blood to liquid mercury. He sank his claws into her flesh and hauled her harder to his cock, ramming its bulging length deeper and deeper into her tightness again and again and again. Fucking her until she came once more.

This time her cries came on a terrified whimper and he smiled, feeling no mirth in his body. Just lust. Hunger and lust. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the craving need on her face…and saw Death instead.

He came. Just like that. Like a naked flame to dry tinder, the unexpected image of the Grim Reaper detonated a climax so savage he lost all rational thought. He roared, claws digging into Amy’s hips, his taste buds believing it was Death’s blood he smelled on the air.

His balls grew hard, hot. His fangs sank into his bottom lip. He rode Amy’s body and fucked Death in his mind. His desire grew into a creature more voracious than his own released demon.

He knew what he wanted now. Knew it without doubt or question.

And yet she appears to Patrick naked. Straddles him on his bed. Begs him to go with her to who knows where.

The painful realization sliced through his head, severing the wonderful, tormenting image of Death in one swift strike.

Opening his eyes, he glared down at Amy, the sight of her orgasm-contorted face setting off another, more bitter climax.

Still his demon wanted more. Wanted to sink into her sheath and fill her with his cold seed.

Wanted to claim her entirely.

Who? Amy or Death?

He growled at the silent question and turned his stare to the woman lying on the sofa before him. “Is this what you wanted, little girl?” He grabbed Amy’s ankle in one fist to yank her closer to him, thrusting his spent cock deeper into her sex. “Is this everything you dreamed it to be?”

She gazed up at him, the pulse in her neck hammering under her flesh with such force he felt it vibrate through her body. His mouth filled with saliva again and he fixed that wild pulse with a drilling stare. That would be the first place he sank his fangs into her body. He slid his attention to her breasts, her belly, her cunt, mentally charting the three-course meal to follow.

Dark, malevolent pleasure roared through him and he grinned, withdrawing his still-hard shaft from Amy’s sex. He dropped to his knees, capturing her cream-slicked pussy with his mouth. Amy’s pussy, not Death’s.

But it is Death’s pussy you want. Death’s you deserve. You are more than a normal demon, Steven and as such should be with—

He cut the thought dead and plunged his tongue into Amy’s slit, delving into her folds in deep, lapping strokes. Drinking her juices and his own dead, lifeless cum.

Lost to the malevolent being within him.

Tormented.

Haunted.

Exultant.

The barely there contact of Fred’s kiss detonated an explosion of wicked activity in the pit of Patrick’s stomach. He pulled in a quick breath and her distinctly mysterious scent filled his being.

It was enough. Enough to push him exactly where his body and his aching, tormented soul wanted him to be. He wrapped his arms around Fred’s back, buried his fingers in the long, thick curtain of her hair and yanked her against his chest, plunging his tongue past her parted lips into her wet, willing mouth.

The kiss was just as wild, just as fierce as their previous, but so much more powerful. So much more right. Her lips fit his to perfection, her tongue equal in ferocity to his own. With feverish longing and unquestionable desire, he invaded her mouth, drank from its sweet secrets. A fire roared through his body and he dragged one hand down her back, cupping her arse with ungentle force to haul her even closer. Her hips pressed to his, the soft hood of her sex ground into his erection through the barrier of her leather trousers and a bolt of scalding tension shot straight into his balls.