Love Bite (Just One Bite #1) (6 page)

“Put two
fingers inside of me,” she commanded. Diandra lay on the pillows between
Lizbeth's legs and obeyed, enjoying the idea of being dominated. Lizzie plunged
her body down, impaling herself on the active fingers and placing her center
over Diandra's mouth in the process.

“Now flick
your tongue over my clit as I did yours.” She threw her head back, riding the
sensations as Diandra exuberantly played her tongue over that hot button of
pleasure. She guided Diandra's free hand to her breast, making her fingers
clutch the nipple and work it between her fingers. When the movement wasn't
right she reluctantly moved from her position to kneel on the bed among the
remaining rose petals.

“Do you trust
me?” Diandra nodded. “Good. I want to show you how to pleasure me, but I want more
than that. I want you, no- I
need
you to trust me. I want to teach you
about pleasure and pain, and how to enjoy them. Will you let me? Does your
trust go that far?”

Diandra was
wordless, thoughts chasing each other around in her mind. Unable to decide, she
simply nodded once more. Without pause, Lizbeth plunged two of her fingers
inside Diandra. Her body bucked, and Lizbeth used the opportunity to pinch one
of those darkening nipples between her fingers. At the pleasure-filled moan she
received in response, she started rubbing her thumb over the nipple, teasing
and tugging, much the way she would rub a worry stone or a lucky penny.

Diandra
shrieked, pleasure and pain ripping an orgasm through her still sensitive body.
She rotated her hips wildly over Lizbeth's rubbing, wiggling fingers. A second
shriek heralded another orgasm, and she collapsed onto her back once more,
spent.

Lizbeth
climbed back into position above Diandra and gripped the headboard once more.
“Now again- it's not hard. Touch me the way I touched you. Touch me how you'd
like to be touched.” She looked down into Diandra's trusting eyes. Diandra was
startled but she did as she was commanded. When Lizbeth crouched over her once
more she resumed licking the offered clit, and pinched, tugged and rubbed at
the pointed pink nipple above her.

Lizbeth gasped
out another chain of commands. “Move your fingers harder and faster until I
come! Tug harder at my nipples, alternate first one and then the other! I want
to come for you!” Moments later her orgasm ripped through her, bowing her back.
She let out a primal, satisfied scream as she rocked her hips against Diandra's
hand and tongue, pulling her nipple tightly away from her breast in the process
and extending her orgasm even longer. She shuddered over and over again, her
chestnut hair lank and almost black with sweat.

Lizbeth
recovered slowly, and then finally stood back up, still straddling Diandra's
body. Looking down she asked again, “Do you trust me?” At her nod, Lizbeth climbed
down from the bed and left the room. For several minutes Diandra lay on the
bed, playing with an errant red petal, patiently waiting for Lizbeth to return.
When she did, she was nude, body still glowing with a light sheen of sweat from
their earlier activities. On second glance, Diandra realized she was not nude
after all- she was wearing some sort of glistening object, held on her slender
body by a series of straps.

“Is that...”
Diandra trailed off.

“Bend over,”
Lizbeth said, still using that firm, commanding voice. Amazed, and a little bit
nervous now, she obeyed the order. She slid her legs off the bed, and leaned
over it. She grabbed a pillow and dragged it close, digging her fingers into it
as she waited for Lizbeth to speak once more. But no words came. Diandra
shivered as she felt the tip of the warm, wet toy slip slowly between her lower
lips.

Lizbeth stopped
with the tip of the strap-on a mere two inches inside. Although she had lubed
the device thoroughly, Diandra was still small and tight. She slapped her ass
quickly and firmly, and when Diandra gasped and started to pull away, Lizbeth
grabbed her hips and pulled her back quickly, fully impaling her on the slick,
flexible toy. When Diandra let out a low moan filled with pleasure, Lizbeth pulled
most of the way out, and then slammed back inside. She moved her hips back and
forth, harder and faster, over and over again. Minutes later, the women
screamed out their duel pleasure and collapsed forward onto the bed.

Lizbeth
removed the strap-on and laid it on the nightstand, then fell forward once more
onto the bed and wrapped her arms around Diandra. She worried that she'd been
too rough- it was their first time. She should have gone slow and easy until
she knew Dia's limits. “Are you all right?” she asked, a note of worry and fear
in her voice. Now the rejection would come. She stiffened her resolve, and
unconsciously her body tensed as well.

“Oh yes!”
Diandra giggled. “But maybe I could wear it later?”

The two women
never slept that night, nor left the comfort and pleasure of each other's arms.
They never even ventured downstairs until it was time for Lizbeth to leave for
work. The path of candles gutted themselves out through the night in a puddle
of their own wax. The women shared a long, lingering kiss at the door. As
Lizbeth got into her Nissan to drive away, neither of them felt the menace
radiating from the bushes next to the front steps. Neither woman noticed the
ivory-colored cat watching from the flower bed with strange, alert eyes.

Lizbeth was
nearly halfway to work when she was hit with an overpowering feeling that
Diandra needed her- immediately. Something was wrong, very wrong. Was there
something wrong with the baby? What else could it be? Barely conscious of what
she was doing, she did a U-turn in the middle of the road, cutting off the
other drivers. The screeching brakes, squealing tires, and honking horns never
even registered as she floored the accelerator in her little Nissan and barreled
her way back home.

When Lizbeth
pulled in the driveway, she jammed the car into park and got out, not bothering
to turn the motor off or shut the door in her haste. The front door stood ajar
and she slipped inside quietly, all her senses on full alert. She left the door
the way she had found it and raced to the parlor, reaching it just as Diandra
started screaming.

She entered
the room and stopped dead in her tracks, her brain trying to register the scene
in front of her. A man crouched over Diandra, where she lay screaming on the
loveseat. At Lizbeth's approach he raised his head and growled low in his
throat. Two neat puncture marks marred the gleaming white skin of Diandra's
neck. The disheveled man gave an evil grin, flashing two bloody fangs at her.
Without stopping to think about what she was doing or why, she reached behind
her back, drew her gun, and pulled the trigger without aiming. His eyes grew
wide and he hissed as the bullet entered his chest. Diandra's dead husband let
out an inhuman scream as he jumped out the open parlor window and vanished out
of sight.

Lizbeth ran
over to the still-shrieking Diandra and gathered her body in her arms.
Diandra's eyes rolled back into her head, showing the whites as she slipped
into unconsciousness. Her heartbeat skipped once, twice, and fell silent.
Lizbeth started to sob, huddled over her lover's body. Suddenly Diandra's heart
started to beat again, faintly and much more slowly than before. Lizbeth raised
her tear-streaked face and looked down in confusion. The next thing Lizbeth
noticed was a rush of fluid running out from between Diandra's legs, staining
Lizbeth's lap and the pale blue fabric of the loveseat. The baby was coming.

Diandra had
been in the parlor getting ready to watch the local news when she heard the
knock at the door. Thinking that Margaret had forgotten her keys again, she
answered the door with a smile. When she had it open a crack, the person on the
other side of it pushed hard, sending the door, and Diandra herself, flying
back to crash into the wall. She gasped when she was grabbed and held in place,
scared when she realized she was pinned against the wall by a crazed- looking
man.

“You bitch!”
he yelled, spraying her face with spittle in his anger. “Did you think I
wouldn't find out about her? I can still smell her pussy on your lips!” The man
dug his fingers painfully into her shoulders and shook her once, twice, her
head bouncing off the wall and making her nauseous as starbursts of light
filled her vision.

Eyes wide and
wild, Diandra started at this man screaming at her. Stringy hair, dirty, nasty
clothes.... familiar brown eyes...
“Jonah?
You're...
dead....” She trailed off and tears began streaming down her face. Pain and
sorrow etched their way from her eyes down, following the path of tears.

“Not even
close anymore, but you will be. I was content to stay away, to let you think I
was dead. But then you cheated on me. You cheated on me with that dirty whore,
and that I will not tolerate!” Mercilessly, Jonah grabbed a fistful of those
coppery locks and dragged her down the hallway. Diandra kicked and screamed,
struggling vainly to free her hair from his painful grip. The nightgown she
wore rode high on her thighs as she was pulled across the floor. When they
reached the parlor, he threw her onto the loveseat with inhuman strength.

Diandra
whispered in a voice clogged with tears, “What are you?” As his fangs became
exposed and he leaned towards her throat, she understood. She understood, and
she screamed.

Diandra
finally came around five minutes later. She blinked dazedly a few times, and
then her eyes finally focused on Lizbeth. “My husband is dead. Or maybe he’s
not dead. He's a vampire. He's a fucking vampire and he fucking bit me! What's
going on? Why am I not dead?” She curled into Lizbeth and sobbed pitifully,
unable to comprehend what had just happened to her. She gasped as a powerful
contraction hit her, but she seemed unaware of what it was. She just assumed it
was more damage done by Jonah, and in the back of her mind she feared for her
unborn baby.

Lizbeth just
shook her head, unable to say anything as she attempted to process what she'd
seen. Then she gulped a few times and pulled herself together. “We'll worry
about all this later. He's alive, I'm sure of that. My bullet caught him in the
chest, but I missed the heart by at least an inch. I imagine he'll be back, but
not today. Right now we need to focus on you. You're water broke, and the baby
is coming. We need to get you to the hospital.” Lizbeth helped Diandra to her
feet, noticing that the marks that had bled so freely on that pale flesh were
now closed. She grabbed Diandra's pre-packed hospital bag and bundled her into
the still- running Nissan. Then the two women pulled out of the circular
driveway.

A pale cat sat
in the bushes watching the antics of the two women. He blinked intelligent blue
eyes as they peeled out of the driveway on their way to the hospital. He kept
watch until the car was no longer visible, and then laid his head back down on
his paws. He would guard the house until their return.

Five hours
later Lizbeth stood beside Diandra's hospital bed, watching the new mom as she
nursed her baby. Diandra lay in her hospital bed, the epitome of calm. She had
refused all the labor medication they had offered her, including the epidural
she had requested months ago in preparation of this day. She'd made it through
labor in only two hours and never made a sound. Lizbeth had never seen
childbirth before, but when she left the room to fetch some more ice chips for
Diandra in the middle of it she overheard the nurses whispering. They kept saying
they'd never seen anything like it before, and that they found it “creepy.” She
said nothing, just got the ice chips and returned to Diandra's side. But she
filed the conversation away, and she worried.

Now Diandra
lay in the hospital bed looking more like an actress in a movie following a
labor scene than a real woman who actually went through the childbirth process.
She had a package of crackers on the bedside table and was crunching quietly.
She had already consumed two other packages and a container of lime gelatin.
Sucking contentedly at one breast was the newborn baby. She was gorgeous- plump
with bright lavender eyes, a pretty pink complexion, and a full head of thick,
strawberry blond curls. Diandra held her close, whispering the name she had chosen
for her over and over again. “RaeLynn, RaeLynn, RaeLynn.” The name became
something of a chant, and Lizbeth shivered.

RaeLynn was
already the wonder of the labor and delivery floor. The nurses marveled at how
alert she was, and how her eyes took in all of her surroundings, as though she
was memorizing every detail for later perusal. Aside from her initial cry, the
tiny baby had not made a sound. She just lay contented in her mother’s arms,
sometimes nursing, other times sleeping.

Now the only
sounds in the room were the contented sucking of the baby at Diandra's breast
and the crunching of crackers. She flashed Lizbeth a bright, satisfied smile,
and she attempted to smile back even as her mind raced. She knew in her heart
that during the minutes Diandra's heart lay silent and still in her chest a
change had occurred. It was like a math equation: a+b=c. Jonah was a vampire,
Jonah bit Diandra, and therefore Diandra was a vampire. It was simple,
illogical, and impossible. Most likely true, as crazy and unbelievable as it
seemed. But what did this mean for their future? And if Diandra was a vampire
when she went into labor, what did that make RaeLynn?

The next day
Lizbeth drove the new mother and baby home. While Diandra took RaeLynn out of
her car seat, she went into the house, gun drawn but hidden under her suit
jacket so Diandra wouldn't notice and worry. She thoroughly checked the house
from top to bottom before going outside and around the back of the car to
remove the bags from the trunk. She stopped what she was doing to watch Diandra
carry RaeLynn inside. Every few steps Diandra had to stop and hitch her pants
back up into place around her waist, lest they pool around her ankles. She had
already lost all of the baby weight, and seemed to have lost several extra
pounds as well. Lizbeth had never heard of such a huge weight loss, literally
overnight.