VAMP RISING (By Moonlight Book 1) (12 page)

              Just as the pleasure was starting to seriously build, Brandon was at her mouth again, kissing her and pressing his jean-covered bulge between her legs. Though she was highly turned on, and plotting how she might get those jeans off of him, Gwen became captivated by the scent of his blood. She could smell it through his skin, through his veins. Her kisses traveled across his scruffy cheek, nudging his face away so that she could access his tender neck. There, she kissed and sucked and tested the suppleness of his skin with her fangs.

              “Drink me,” he ordered. “Drink me and promise.”

              Suddenly his hand was between her legs, his fingers exploring her wet curves until he gently pressed two fingers inside and rested his thumb on the mound at the apex. He began massaging her, inside and out, sending tremendous waves of pleasure rolling through her, as she experimented with pressing her fangs harder and harder against his skin, though she was careful not to puncture the smooth surface.

              “Drink me and promise, Gwen,” he cooed softly, as though the order was becoming a chant.

              She was tempted and she liked being begged. She wasn’t sure how she would hold herself back, but knew that if she didn’t she would be making a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep. However, the more he fondled her, the easier it was to lose sight of why it might be hard for her to keep such a promise.

              Reaching down, she found his zipper and opened the front of his jeans with a few determined motions. No sooner than she did, his bulge sprang out, smooth as silk and hard as a rock, into her hand. She guessed werewolves didn’t always bother with underwear, which brought a smirk to her lips, as she began stroking the length of him, happy to discover he was well endowed.

              “Awe, Vamp, you’re killing me,” he groaned into her mouth before pressing a hard kiss to it.              

              “What if I fail?” She asked.

              “I won’t let you,” he said between groans.

              “What if Christoph influences me?” She questioned fearfully.

              “I’ll kill him,” said Brandon, groaning and thrusting into her hand, as he continued to massage her with quickening strokes.

              “What if he hurts you?” She asked, following his logic.

              “He’d never get the chance. I’m one of several. My pack is strong,” he assured her. “Wouldn’t you like to know that you’d never have to be hungry again? Let me be that for you.”

              She
would
like to know that, especially considering she’d only skimmed the surface of her hunger. It had only been building inside her for a day and that had been hard enough. She dreaded what it might feel like to go without blood for days, weeks, months. Not that she presumed Christoph would let her suffer like that, but he clearly wasn’t all that concerned if he’d left her unfed for the night. Unless, like the dress, there was a reason...

              Brandon grabbed his member and quickly angled it flush against her, hardness meeting wetness in an instant. Gwen gasped in delight at the surprise and held his hips. Brandon pressed in, not far, only enough to tease her, and it was working. Her body ached to be filled and began clenching with hot throbs. He held himself there, tip deep as he licked her lips.

              As if they had a mind of their own, Gwen’s hips lifted in an attempt at pulling his length into her. She succeeded, but only by a fraction, which put her in an absolute tizzy of desire. She wanted his body and his blood. She wanted to consume him in every way. She found his tender neck again, the hot surface of his throat where her fangs had last grazed, and sneaking her hands to the back of Brandon’s head, in a snap she thrust her fangs to him and tried to sink them in. But Brandon was quick to react and in an instant grasped her short hair in his fist, holding her back domineeringly, and sharply thrusting himself inside her. 

              The sudden command he took of her drove her wild and she moaned out loudly, as the sheath of her body eased to accept his thick, long shape. He pressed himself deeply inside until the length of him was met with firm resistance indicating he had filled her completely.

              “Oh, God, Gwen,” he groaned. “Just give us both what we want, you stubborn Vamp.” He gazed deeply into her eyes so that Gwen could drink in the delicious sight of his steel blue eyes and all the care they contained.

              He  slid slowly out of her, allowing the heat and friction to build, then all of a sudden thrust back in, fast and hard. She moaned in response and whispered, “It’s building.”

              “Already?” He asked with a smile.

              She nodded then pursed her lips, as though to ask for a kiss. She couldn’t move her head up to him. His grip in her hair was too tight.

              Again he drew himself back, creating an erotic friction of heat, then thrust in hard, studying her face as he did. She moaned. Her eyes floated closed as pleasure devoured her, all the while feeling his eyes on her. When she opened her eyes again she saw he was smiling, fangs bared, captivated by the effect he was having on her, intrigued by her every response. He then began thrusting slow and steady, which caused such incredible heat and friction inside her that the fluttering build that had come over her surged instantly nearing its peak.

              “I’m close,” she whispered, smiling, fighting to keep her eyes on him as the pleasure pulled at her.

              “Really?” He asked with fascination.

              “Yes,” she confirmed on a breathy exhale. “Oh, Brandon,” she moaned, as her head arched back in his hand. He was bringing her there. She was getting closer and closer and closer...

              Then he stopped all movement and held himself deep inside her. Gwen’s eyes popped open to find him staring wickedly at her. She started with a gasping sigh and he smiled: checkmate.

              “You dog!” She cried, which only seemed to amuse him. “Fine! Fine, Brandon! I promise!”

              “Yeah?”

              “I seem to have no choice unless I want to be frustrated,” she stated with a strange mix of irritation and playfulness. She felt so many things for him. It was as though their fast and sudden relationship was already a tangle of conflicting emotions, wants, and needs, that both confused and fascinated her. She let the grievance drop, though. Truth be told, it might be nice to have that kind of commitment from a man,
er, werewolf
. And he obviously felt strongly about it, though it was still a mystery why. “Really,” she said in a straightforward tone. “I’m not going to get drawn into Christoph. I’m not going to go off into the wilderness to feed and cause harm to the animals you’ve dedicated your life to protect. I’m not going to influence another man. I just want you. I promise.” Then she added, “Why me?”

              “Ever since I saw you at the campsite,” he began, as he began grinding his erection deep inside her and speaking through breathy groans. “I couldn’t get you out of my head. I just have a strong feeling about you. I’m not sure I understand it better than that, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I’m a dog at heart, and a dog’s love and loyalty are simple and unconditional. We’re not like humans. We don’t need a list of reasons to be with someone. We just sense that someone deserves our affection and we dive in wholeheartedly.”

              What a strange creature, Gwen thought, though it was hard to think with his incredible body moving inside hers. Then she realized his admission. Did he say he loved her? Before she could question that part, Brandon kissed her and resumed thrusting. He let go of her hair so that she could ease his neck down to her mouth, which she did just as soon as she realized that’s why he’d released her.

              He believed her promise.

              She could drink his blood.

              They had sealed some kind of deal and Gwen had no idea how that would play out, but was willing to move forward regardless. 

              As the waves of pleasure built back up, surging through her with each thrust he delivered, Gwen grazed her fangs across his skin, then remembering Christoph’s guidance that it was imperative to cast glamour over your prey before drawing blood, Gwen did just that.

              Brandon moaned with her, as she became suddenly flooded with the first massive clench of her climax. He was brining her there. He was making her come and her body reeled with the bliss he was giving her. She rode the high, arching her head back and calling out his name. Then as her orgasm blossomed into euphoria, sending tingles of pleasure throughout her entire being, Gwen knew now was the time. And she sank her fangs into his neck.

              “Oh, naughty Vamp,” he groaned, thrusting harder and faster against the pain.

              As his hot blood pooled in her mouth, Gwen’s senses went acutely sharp. Her vision snapped crisp with vibrant colors, her hearing magnified, and every inch of her body had suddenly heightened with awareness. Everything about him, Brandon’s smooth chest, hard stomach, arms that wrapped her, as well as the texture of the cotton sheets beneath her, the bunched up comforter beside them, even the exact temperature of the air, was pronounced in the most sensual way.

              Without warning she felt gripped by darkness, powerful and promising and unlike anything she’d ever experienced. She drank hard and fast, sucking his blood down hungrily and feeling as though she was awakening, coming to life, breathing the air for the first time. The darkness was overtaking her, and though it filled her with an eerie sense of panic, she didn’t care. Unlike the erratic behavior she'd undergone that had scared her because it was so out of character, this fresh darkness seemed to mesh with that behavior. Everything she’d done suddenly made sense. It was the human side of Gwen that didn’t. The human side of Gwen had made those actions seem bizarre and unexplainable. And it was the human side of Gwen that was being swallowed by darkness. Old Gwen was dying.

             
Dying?!

              Gwen pushed him back, but didn’t realize her own strength and Brandon flew up, slammed against the ceiling then came crashing down, but she rolled aside just in time. Before she knew it she was on her feet, hyperventilating at the thought of losing herself, panicking at the fact her humanity was drowning in his blood she’d ingested. In an instant, her dress appeared, wrapping her quivering body, as she held her hands over her mouth in horror.

              “What? What’s wrong?” He asked.

              “I shouldn’t have done that!”

              “You had to. You have to feed. It doesn’t hurt, I’m fine,” he assured her, guessing that was the cause of her sudden distress.

              “I’m dark,” she said, not making sense, not even to herself.

              Just as her panic was rising to unbearable heights:

             
BANG
! A shot rang out in the wilderness.

              Gwen froze. Brandon’s eyes narrowed, as he listened. He'd heard it too.

              Then:
Gweeeeeee-heeeenKeeeeeel-heeeeer!

              Someone was calling her name, low and long, its syllables echoing through the night.

              That was why Brandon had rushed them out of the forest, she realized. That’s why the cub had been shot.

              People were looking for her.

              And the fact that they were, reminded her of the humanity she was at risk of losing.              

              Maybe she didn't have to do this, be this.

              Maybe she could turn back time...

              Brandon was threading his one arm through a shirtsleeve, wrestling his jeans' zipper up with his other hand, and shuffling so that his unlaced work boots wouldn’t loosely kick off across the clearing, when he suddenly heard his pack’s howling chorus rise up from Cedar Canyon. He was vaguely aware that his disheveled state of undress, which had him looking like a playboy, would draw suspicion to the precise reason why he was once again very late for call. It was one thing to roll in nonchalantly because you were held up tending to a wounded animal. It was quite another to hold up a midnight emergency assembly because a haze of post-coital bliss had blurred your ability to prioritize: find your socks or plead with your vampire girlfriend that she stay put.
It would be bad if anyone knew about us
.

              It didn’t help that he was covered in Gwen’s scent, smelling like sex and blood, as he rounded the bend that unfolded into the canyon. He was going to have to explain this, but with any luck the emergency would take precedence and grilling him on his audacity to bed not only a
student,
but a
vampire
would be put on the back burner until tomorrow.

              And it should definitely get put on the back  burner.

              The pack was amassed an acre ahead and Brandon wasn’t quite put together enough to face them. Stealing a moment, he kneeled to tie both boots, buttoned his flannel shirt, as well as his fly, and tried to push Gwen’s horrified expression from his mind, which had been haunting him ever since he’d stormed out of Little Bear. It was as though Gwen, (this perky little city slicker had known  that she was gutsy, adventurous, and unflinching even in the face of death,) was suddenly forced to face the darkness that now ruled her. Suddenly being jarred by the black abyss that had replaced who she once was, and suddenly confronted with the evidence that she, the human Gwen Keller was no longer there. He hadn’t wanted to leave her to wrestle the dark revelation all alone, didn’t want her drawing her own frantic conclusions, or worse, acting on them. But he had no choice. The search party from Seattle was threatening the Cascade’s sacred balance with their clumsy effort to locate Gwen. They were trigger-happy. They’d nearly killed the cub, but it wasn’t their blind assault on wildlife that had Brandon dead set on ridding them from his forest. It was the glint he’d caught in Gwen’s eye when she’d heard her name called out that had him spinning off his axis. That glint told him she was registering a new possibility: she could be found, walk away from the darkness, return to the life she’d known, and once again be the bouncy optimist who hadn’t yet fallen down Tucker’s Ravine. The Gwen Keller of Seattle. Gwen Keller the human. Gwen Keller who deserved a
real
second chance at a real life, and not the one he’d chosen for her. 

              It was terrifying. He didn’t want to lose her. And he was afraid he already had.                 

              All eyes were on Brandon as he stomped over to meet the pack, but he played it off by supplying a casual shrug to the group then locking eyes with Mark Houston, whose friendly face was often Brandon’s go-to safe haven whenever he rolled in late. Mark wasn’t offering much comfort, though. Unwilling to get caught fraternizing with the problem werewolf, Mark stiffened and regarded Elektra and Ismay who were standing at the head of the assembly.

              “The Seattle Police Department is sweeping the Evergrove campsite to our north,” shouted Elektra, addressing all twenty-eight members of the pack by meeting their gazes one by one, as she got the group up to speed. “They’re searching for Gwen Keller who has been in our care for just over a week. Under no circumstances will we allow them to locate and collect Ms. Keller. It would be detrimental to her wellbeing, as well as the human community that is attempting to retrieve her. Right now the search party is functioning with the hope that Ms. Keller is alive. We don’t want to dispel that hope.”

              Ismay tossed a pair of jean shorts towards the left side of the pack and Mark caught them. On instinct, he brought them to his nose, inhaled deeply, then passed the shorts on to the next werewolf, as Ismay tossed a grey sweatshirt towards the right side for others to pick up the scent.

              “They have men. They have dogs,” Elektra went on. “We need to lure them out of the Cascades. They’ve wrongfully killed too many animals that crossed their path. We need to plant her scent strategically so that they are guided away from our territories. Let’s aim to get them into Porter Hills by sunrise. It should be far more believable that a doe-eyed blond weighing in at 115 lbs decided to hike Porter.”

              “Tear the clothes,” ordered Ismay. “Spread the scent.”

              The pack ripped the jeans and sweatshirt in a matter of seconds and distributed the shreds amongst them, as Brandon hung back under Joseph’s heavy stare.

              “Be careful out there,” Elektra warned. “They’ll shoot anything that moves. Go as wolves!”

              On command, the men and women collapsed into their wolf forms, holding the cloth bits in their teeth, then took off sprinting north up the canyon rift.

              “Why are you standing there?” She asked Brandon.

              “I think she heard them,” he said nervously.

              “We all did,” Elektra said dryly.

              “No, I mean this afternoon, at dusk. We were in the western territory-”

              “When did you first become aware of the search party?” She interrupted sharply.

              “At that time,” he stated, suddenly realizing the admission had landed him in hot water.

              “Why didn’t you report it?” Asked Joseph.

              “It was late. I was with Gwen,” he said, rattling off excuses, though aware that each one sounded worse than the last.

              “Four bears have been killed in the last hour and this could’ve been prevented if you’d reported it,” Elektra admonished.

              Brandon stammered an apology, but it was absorbed by their dark glares.

              “Where’s your head at, Brandon?” She asked.

              “I wasn’t thinking,” he mumbled.

              “No, I think you were, just about the wrong thing,” she snapped, highlighting his interest in Gwen. “You promised us a big change, Brandon. That was the condition the Administration set in exchange for restoring Ms. Keller’s life. You’ve been reckless in the past, but never at the Sanctuary’s expense. This time you’ve jeopardized the safety of the entire community, shifters and wildlife.”

              “Gwen Keller’s enrollment here is risking all our lives,” Ismay added.

              “I expected a lot more from you,” she concluded.

              “Your neck is bleeding,” said Joseph, as he took Brandon’s chin between his fingers, lifting it to expose his throat.

              Brandon jerked his chin free and backed away with a snarl, as Elektra shot daggers at him on the edge of her glare. That glare told him there was no question in her mind as to why his neck was bleeding, why he’d been late for the assembly, and why his head was most definitely in the wrong place.

              “We’ll be meeting with the Board about this, I promise you,” she sneered in a tone so deep it rattled Brandon’s bones. “Off with you.”

              As Brandon collapsed into his wolf form, the shame that was stinging his guts twisted into rage. The search party, the Administration, the bloodstain down his neck that marked the great lengths his dark urges had dragged him, all seemed to be pressing in on him, crushing his hopes, and suffocating his dreams. He tore through the wilderness, as though he could escape the tangle of lust, hatred, and murderous instincts in his heart. To save what he loved, for the first time Brandon Scott was ready to kill something human.

*              *              *

              Gwen hadn’t slept a wink since Brandon had run from her room half dressed and thoroughly alarmed by the harrowing chant of her name. He’d told her not to go anywhere and on the same breath had let it slip that no one could know about them.
It would be bad...

              The long night hours had passed painfully slow, as dread crept up her throat, tasting as bitter as the blood that had changed her.

             
Maybe she didn’t want to change.

              Maybe she didn’t have to.

              Maybe it wasn’t too late?

              She’d hoped...

              But just when she thought she’d grasped the thread of hope,
maybe it wasn’t too late
an onslaught of miserable revelations swirled through her mind like smoke, each one contradicting the last and competing to unnerve her. 

              The news that
they were looking for her
kept clouding her vision.

              The fear that
the blood thirst had stripped her of all humanity
kept threatening her sense of self.

              And the assumption that
Brandon cared for her,
kept sabotaging her train of thought until her mind was knotted in anguish.

              By the time the sun was rising, Gwen was deeply disturbed.

              She stood at her bedroom window, kneading her hands and staring out, as though Brandon would sense her distress and appear. He didn’t.

              There was only one way to cut through the noise of her racing thoughts: talk to Christoph. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. If she left now for her morning session, she’d be a half hour early and suffering just the same, but maybe the change of scenery would help.

              She left her room, exited Little Bear, and started across the campus towards the Training Center, all the while getting pulled into a fresh assault of dark thoughts. If she had wanted to explore who Vampire Gwen was, and she
had
, she now regretted it. She wasn’t sure how she was going to live with herself now that she’d seen the pure darkness that was plaguing her soul and she wasn’t sure how she felt about Brandon now that she understood his role in coaxing that evil out.

              Her parents came to mind, their quirky marriage and the adorable tiffs they’d get into. Her mother’s obsession with keeping the kitchen tidy and her father’s absentminded disregard for where he’d left a dirty mug, a soiled saucer, a cake stained napkin, was often the source of their quarrels. Gwen missed those quarrels. She missed visiting every Sunday and rolling her eyes at their interest in her love life. She missed her older sister and the way her niece hung from Margot’s arms like she was a human jungle gym.

              Until she’d heard her name called out through the darkness of night, she hadn’t thought about her family. She’d been blinded by her desperation to make sense of what had happened to her, and realizing how blind she’d been, how self-centered and forgetful, caused a wealth of guilt to well up inside her. Her parents had been looking for her, probably panicked out of their minds at the thought of what they might find searching through the endless wilderness.

              She couldn’t stand the thought of putting them through that any longer so when she barreled through the classroom door into the black room and discovered Christoph was just as early as she was, Gwen hesitated not one bit to find a way to have it all.

              “My parents are looking for me,” she blurted out.

              Christoph paused analyzing her demeanor as though getting a feel for her particular brand of hysterics was necessary in order to respond.

              “There’s a whole search party out there sweeping the mountain for me,” she went on, swallowing each word through heaving breaths. “I have to do something.”

              “You aren’t ready, Gwen. It’s barely been a day.”

              “I need to talk to them,” she ranted on. “They’re out there worried sick that I’m dead or dying alone in the woods. I can’t let them think that.”

              “For the time being you have no choice,” he stated with an air of authority that set Gwen’s teeth on edge.

              “How long am I supposed to stay here? When do I get to go back? When do I get to have a real life?”

              “As soon as you’re ready,” he said, as though that might reassure her, but the ambiguity only seemed to be mocking her anxiety.

              “I’ve nailed glamour. I’ve successfully fed. I’ve flown with a decent amount of control-”

              “You’ve fed?” He interrupted.

              “That’s right,” she said, holding her head high.

              “When? Who? Under what circumstance?” He demanded.

              “As if you care,” she said in a tone that was a little snide for both their tastes. Gwen took a breath to reel in her animosity then tried a different approach. “Where were you?”

              “Just because I wasn’t here doesn’t give you the right to get ahead of the curriculum.”

              “I was starving. I was offered blood. I didn’t see the harm in it,” she began, “Until I actually drank it, that is. It unleashed something inside me, Christoph that I seriously can’t handle. I just want to go back to Seattle. When will I be allowed to do that?”