His Captive Mortal (7 page)

“Sweet vampire,” she said, stroking his face. “I can always count on you, can’t I?”  She let down her thick Romani hair, the dark mass falling from the curls pinned on the crown of her head. She allowed her robe to drop, displaying her magnificent body, clad only in a corset and stockings.

He made a growling sound in his throat and flashed to his knees before her, releasing the garters and peeling down the silk. She ran her fingers through his hair, guiding his mouth to her sex. “I save it only for you,” she told him. Yet even in the dream, part of him knew it to be a lie. But he didn’t want to heed his instinct.

He brought her to climax, then lifted her to stand, his mouth still at her cunt. Carrying her to the bed, he disrobed and plunged into her warmth, stroking her pussy deeply with his cock as his fangs sought her neck.

“Charlie,” she moaned.

She writhed under his body.

“Charlie...Charlie! Char-lie!”

He woke to find Sasha struggling beneath him, screaming in terror. His fangs were at her neck and she was pushing his face away with the heel of her hand. The gyrations of her hips were not sexual, but panicked.

He jerked back, lifting his weight onto his hands to blink his eyes into focus.

“Oh thank God,” she cried, nearly in tears. She pushed at his shoulders, trying to scramble out from under him.

His cock lay between her legs—they were both clothed, unfortunately—but he realized he’d been grinding against her, about to take her vein. “Sasha,” he muttered, clearing his head.

Damn. He’d scared the hell out of her after promising himself and her he wouldn’t bite without permission. He shouldn’t be sleeping next to a mortal when so blood-starved.

“Who is Anka?” she demanded.

Did he detect a trace of jealousy? The thought cheered him.

“She’s the witch who cursed me,” he said.

“Oh.” She studied him. He enjoyed being the subject of her scrutiny, her golden eyes so full of intelligence and light.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he offered.

“You were really going to bite me,” she sulked. “I couldn’t wake you up. What if you drained me before you knew it?”

“Sasha,” he reasoned, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile, “I was dry-humping you. Do you think the bite would’ve been vicious?”

Her cheeks colored and he couldn’t resist nudging his cock against her mound again. Before she could start to wrestle, he lowered to the same position, his mouth close to her ear, hips rolling against hers. The peaked tips of her nipples pressed against his bare chest. “I can’t help it if I find you irresistible while I sleep. You just feel so...delicious,” he murmured.

Her pelvis tilted to meet his and she panted, even as she gripped his shoulders to push him off.

“I just want to taste you. I’ll make it feel good, I promise,” he purred, running the tips of his fangs lightly across her skin.

“No,” she cried in alarm, pushing with real effort.

“Shh. There’s nothing to be afraid of, sweet Sasha. It’s just a little prick and then orgasmic ecstasy. I won’t take too much blood and I’ll hardly leave a mark. It heals within a couple days.”

Her struggles had slowed, but she refused to look at him, turning her head to the side. “Please,” she whimpered. “Please let me up.” A tear slid out of the corner of her eye, traveling across her nose.

He experienced a pang in his unbeating heart. Another surprise—her genuine distress bothered him. He rolled off immediately and helped her to sit, then lifted her to her feet beside the bed.

“Thank you,” she muttered, looking down, obviously trying to hide her watering eyes. When she lifted her gaze, she looked vulnerable and his heart twisted once more. “May I please go outside?”

He loved the way she asked, as if she’d finally admitted he ran the show. He stood and reached for her, cupping her face and tilting it up to catch her eyes. He erased the hypnotic suggestion that she might only open the door during daylight if she’d first made certain he was safe. She swayed under his hands and he stroked his thumbs over her cheekbones.

“Did you undo it?”

He nodded. “What time is it?”

“Ten.”

“Be back by two.”

To his shock, she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the lips. “Thank you.”

He sank back into the bed, closing his eyes and wondering what had brought about the change in her—genuine fear? Realization of how helpless she really was? But no, she’d known it before and still railed against him. Newly won trust, then?

He found himself hoping for trust.

Sasha seriously needed to masturbate again. She cursed herself for not just letting the vampire go to town on her. She’d been freaked out beyond belief at first, but having one hundred eighty pounds of muscled vampire grinding over her had flipped her switch pretty quickly. And the way he’d murmured in her ear...

She climbed in the shower and leaned her forehead against the wall, pressing her fingers over her sex.

He truly had been a gentleman. They both knew he could’ve done anything he wanted to her. He could out-power her if he liked it that way, or hypnotize her if he wanted her willing, but he’d done neither. The moment he’d seen her tears, he’d released her.

She wasn’t even sure what had made her cry. Probably just the need to let go after the terror of thinking he would drain her. But he’d made sense—the way he’d been going after her hadn’t been angry or violent, it had been sexual. So presumably, that meant he wouldn’t have killed her.

She wondered if he’d ordered any books on vampires when he sent for the magic ones. Probably not. She continued to work her fingers over her clit, remembering the feel of his hardened bulge between her legs, the tickle of his fangs at her neck. She came in a short, unsatisfying orgasm and had to sit down on the edge of the tub, dizzy from the hot water and the blood rushing...away from her head.

She didn’t feel as shy this time walking into her room dressed only in the towel. Charlie had fallen back into a deep sleep, judging from the sounds of his breathing. She looked at him, a wave of déjà vu coming over her, as if she’d known him forever, but had just forgotten until now. She shrugged it off and changed.

In the kitchen, she took out the eighteen-pack of cage-free eggs, nitrate-free bacon and organic spinach and made herself an omelet. Breakfast was the one meal she knew how to cook. It was her favorite meal of the day. She made one for Charlie, and then decided to make pancakes, as well, since she found he’d bought real maple syrup. She even beat homemade whipped cream to go on top, and placed berries around the edge of the plate. She covered both plates with plastic wrap—he’d bought the new expensive kind with sticky sides to guarantee it stayed on—and placed them in the fridge.

She left a note in case he was up before she returned home.

Charlie—

I didn’t know what you’d like for breakfast, so I made you an omelet and pancakes. They’re both in the fridge.

XXOO,

Your slave-fairy

She smiled, titillated by the idea of being his slave-fairy. In play, that is. And she was beginning to understand that it was just a game to him. They were flirting. He threatened. She sassed. The consequences were mild. Otherwise he already would have hurt her or forced her to do things she didn’t want to. So far, she found his form of punishment as arousing as he did, even though the humiliation of it infuriated her in the moment.

And she’d liked the way he told her to be home by two. Like a Daddy who set her curfew. And she liked the way he pulled down her panties to spank her. Oh God, she was wet again.

She put on a floppy hat and grabbed her gardening gloves. Carefully closing her bedroom door completely to block it from the light, she opened the front door only enough to slip through, closing it tightly behind her.

She returned to the familiar peace she always found when working with nature. Even in the heat of the Tucson fall, she craved the smell of the earth, the feel of the plants between her fingers.

Her fig tree had dozens of small fruit buds and the basil had grown bush-like, the tops of the stalks beginning to flower and go to seed. She pulled weeds and cut some of the giant sunflowers ready for harvest.

After an hour or two, her neighbor, Jane, came outside and sat on her porch, lighting up a cigarette. The two often passed time this way, having become friends since she moved in.

“What’s with the boarded up windows?” Jane asked.

“Oh. Um...I just got a little nervous about security. You know, being on the ground floor and all.”

“Yeah,” Jane said thoughtfully. “Seems like I saw a guy hanging around your door, but now I can’t quite remember...Are you having trouble with someone? Like an ex?”

“Yeah, kind of. I guess so,” she said, wanting to slap her own forehead for stupidity.

“Well, what’s the deal?”

“Um. You remember Wilson, my ex-boyfriend?” she improvised, going with Jane’s suggestion.

“Yeah.”

“Well, he’s been bugging me lately, and I just don’t want him showing up…” She trailed off at her lame story.

“Didn’t he break up with you?”

Annoyed, she blew her hair out of her face. “Well, no. He was cheating. Or—he refused to commit. He wanted an ‘open relationship’. I wasn’t into it.” She really wished she’d made up a fake would-be molester. Wilson had been a pathetic excuse for a boyfriend, and now, comparing him with Charlie’s powerful presence, he seemed downright remedial as a human being.

“Wait, so why do you think he’s going to try to break into your house?”

She drew a breath. She was quite possibly the world’s worst liar. Good thing she didn’t work as a spy for a living. “He just seemed kinda pissed off. I don’t want him to show up and slash my couch or something.”

Jane stubbed out her cigarette and blew smoke out of her lungs. “Right,” she said, looking at Sasha as if she had lost her mind. “I’ll keep my eyes open and let you know if I see him around, okay?”

“He’s mad because I’m dating someone new,” she blurted.

“Ooh, really?”

“Uh huh. His name is Charlie. You might have seen him around—blond hair, kinda scruffy, pierced eyebrow.” Hot body. Long fangs. Sexy as hell. She felt the phantom pressing of his bulge between her legs again.

“Oh yeah? That’s awesome. Stop by and introduce him sometime, okay?” she said, standing up.

“Yeah, I will. See you later.”

She glanced at her watch. Two hours had passed and it was almost two. She brushed off the dirt and went to the door, hesitating before she opened it. What if he’d already woken and sat in the kitchen? He’d be killed. No wonder he had hypnotized her the day before, his very life was at stake. No pun intended.

Lifting her fist, she knocked on the door and pressed her ear to the wood to listen for movement. Good thing Jane wasn’t still outside, or she would really look crazy.

“Wait,” she heard Charlie call out and she sighed with relief at her foresight. “Count to ten first and then open,” he said from the other side of the door.

She followed his instructions and opened the door cautiously, shutting and locking it behind her. “All clear,” she yelled.

Her bedroom door opened and...damn. Her vampire looked sexy walking toward her in nothing but his jeans, his naked torso spectacular, hair still rumpled from sleep.

“Thanks for the breakfast, love,” he said, grasping her nape and stooping to kiss the top of her head as he passed by.

She stood rooted to the spot, wondering why her heart beat so erratically. “Which did you eat?” she managed to ask after a moment.

“Both,” he grinned, sitting down at the table where both plates sat in front of him. He took a bite of pancake. “And I love this whipped cream,” he said, his mouth full.

She had a moment of pure skin-flick fantasy, imagining him smearing her body with it and licking it off. But no, with him, it would more likely to be whips and chains.

“You’re staring at me,” he said, without turning to look.

“What are we doing today, boss?”

He turned, his lips stretching into a broad smile, teeth gleaming. “You’ve finally figured out who’s in charge around here.”

She didn’t mean to grin like an idiot, but she’d felt all warm and gushy toward him, ever since their interlude that morning. The compassion he’d shown when she’d lost it and teared up proved it was all a game to him. He really did expect her to remove the curse, but he wouldn’t hurt her. And he wanted her. And now that she no longer feared for her life, she found the vampire irresistible. It wasn’t like her to fall hard for a guy—in fact, she never had before. But this one...he did something undeniable to her, turning her insides to hot liquid with a single flick of his eyebrow. She would have to work hard to keep up her resistance toward him or he would have her crawling on her knees for him without any pride at all.

To that end, she balled up a napkin and hurled it at him.

He caught it easily, his hand moving so fast she missed the motion. “That’s another thing...I require tidier surroundings.”

She looked around. Her place wasn’t dirty, but she had a fair amount of clutter lying on coffee tables or counters. “I can’t cook, clean and study to do magic. Maybe you could try doing something useful during all those night hours when I’m asleep.”

He threw the napkin back at her, hitting her in the face. The sound of the doorbell caused him to dematerialize, and this time she saw it happen. It appeared like he pixelated out, breaking into millions of tiny atoms before they vanished. He reappeared in the doorway to her bedroom, where he shut the door.

She answered the bell to find the mailman had left a bundle too big to fit in her mailbox. The books! She bent to pick up the package and letters and shut the door.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” she called out.

Charlie materialized directly behind her, one hand cupping her breast and the other between her legs. He pulled her against him as she screamed and tried to leap away. “Did your package come?”