1 Dicey Grenor (8 page)

“I think I’m
jealous.”

And sure enough,
his hands had tightened to fists.

Okaaaay
.
It was time to call it a night. He’d already stalked me, said he wanted to kill
me, and now was showing how irrationally jealous he could be. Apparently we
weren’t going to be able to end on a high note. I grabbed the door handle.

“I know about
psychiatrists,” he said. “Something happened when I was young…and well, I had
to see one—a few—for a while. I still do…see a psychiatrist, I mean.”

No big surprise
there. “It must have been something bad that happened to you.”

“Yeah.
I’ve been fascinated with death ever since.”

I settled back in
my seat. I’d always been curious about how he came to be aroused by death. “You
wanna
talk about it?”

“No more than you
wanna
tell me what you were thinking about a minute ago.”

“Fair enough,” I
said. Some things were better kept to oneself, but I needed to confirm a
suspicion. I’d give a little, ask a little,
keep
it
fair. “You were abused?”

“Yes.”

“By
your parents?”

He sighed. “No, I
was kidnapped when I was six.”

Oh, boy. His story
really was bad. To learn more, I needed to give more. “My parents are religious
nut-jobs. They would never call what they did to me abuse, but Child Protective
Services would,” I said.

He shifted
uncomfortably. “If you tell me more Willow, I’ll want to kill them so let’s not
talk about this anymore.”

I actually smiled.
I wasn’t sure whether it was because he’d want to kill
for
me or because
he was brutally honest or because we’d both suffered childhood trauma.

Strangely, I felt
close to him. There had been no blood exchange, no ritualistic supernatural
bonding, no sex, but I felt closer to him than I had to anyone since…ever.

“It’s probably
best you don’t come in,” I whispered.

He nodded.

Leaning over until
we were eyeball-to-eyeball, I placed both of his hands on the steering wheel.
Then I unhooked his seatbelt and slowly wrapped it around his neck. My eyes
never left his as I undid his jeans and began stroking the part of him aching
most. I worked him with one hand, pulled the seatbelt snugly around his
straining neck with my other. As blood flow and oxygen were limited to the head
on his neck, the engorged head in his lap swelled hard as a brick.

Watching him enjoy
the pain and pleasure was a real treat, but I broke eye contact to bend
downward where he couldn’t see my fangs as they appeared and red eyes as they
changed. Although concentrating on the rhythm of his thrusts into my hand kept
me from focusing on his bulging veins, it was still hard not biting him.

The closer he got
to finishing, his skin flushed and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. I
pumped him harder since he was so close to the bliss he sought, the release he
needed. When his chest heaved vigorously and his hips jerked upward, I pulled
the seatbelt tighter. Semen shot out all over my hand in several jets, landing
on his underwear and jeans. Having spent himself to completion, he gurgled and
passed out.

There had been no
captivation, no mental manipulation…just me understanding what
Remi
needed and giving it to him.

Fuckin
’ A.

His head rolled to
the window once I released his neck and returned the seatbelt to its proper
condition. The same shirt he’d worn to Hades, that now had my blood all over
it, was on the floorboard. It was perfect for cleaning his fluids so I put it
to good use. His breathing and coloring had returned to normal by the time I
was done.

I zipped him up,
kissed his cheek and stared at his beautiful face for a moment while he slept.
His strong jaw and sharp nose were great features, almost as worthy of
attention as his eyes.

Okay, enough of
that.
“I had a good time tonight. See you next week,” I whispered.

Waving to my
neighbors as they left room #5, I got out and walked to mine without a
backwards glance.

I had shit to do
before morning.

Chapter 8

I waited until I
heard
Remi’s
car leave the lot before I really got
down to it. Since I didn’t have much anyway, it didn’t take me long to pack it
all up and move to a room on the other side of the motel before the first ray
of sunlight hit the horizon.

I finally got to
sleep around six o’clock and awakened at ten to watch my usual Sunday morning
church service. It was the only way I could attend church without actually
attending. Without bleeding through every pore of my body and shriveling up
like a prune and waiting to be burned. It had been like this since I’d been
turned.

My parents had
always said anything that couldn’t touch a churchyard was clearly damned and
destined for hell’s fire.
Except I’d never seen in the bible
that going to church was a prerequisite for salvation.
Still, our
aversion to church and holy emblems was baffling. We were okay when it came to
walking in a cemetery and that was blessed land. I’d had too much church
experience to presume all churches were holy ground and all cemeteries were
unholy. So I had yet to work out why vampirism and church didn’t mix.

Nevertheless,
being unable to step foot on holy ground didn’t make me give up on connecting
with God through church.

I’d had one hour
of come-to-Jesus TV and one hour to myself before you-know-who had shown up.

We’d been going at
it for nearly two hours, bodies slapping, headboard banging. He’d been pounding
me relentlessly for the last five minutes, determined to make me come again. I
was already on number—oh, I don’t even remember. It was so good. I was ashamed
to admit that. He’d started out slowly each time, and gradually increased speed
and intensity until I could take no more. Then we’d change positions and he’d
hit it again.

He had a special
gift for going and going without coming coupled with his egomaniacal drive to
be the best lover ever. After thousands of years of practice with thousands of
lovers, he didn’t have to worry about that. He was hands down the best. I only
had one other lover to compare him with but I’d heard others speak of Max’s
skills. And he was giving all of us his best.

“Say it, Willow.
Say my name when you come.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, fuck…you.” He
punctuated each word with a deep thrust then roughly lifted my knees, pinning
them to my shoulders with his palms. The change of position sharpened the
penetration, making me feel the beginnings of an intense burn in my belly. It
was rising, threatening to send me over the edge into a sweet, sweet…

I turned my head
from him and squeezed my eyes shut, concentrating on the sensations. He grabbed
my jaw, squeezed and yanked it around to face him again.

“Say my fucking
name, Willow. I want you to know who makes you come.”

“Max,” I mumbled.

His broad
shoulders kept my knees in place as he dug his fingers deeper in my cheeks.

“No. You say my
whole name.” His lips crushed mine as his hips worked my lower body into an
all-consuming heat. I stiffened and finally exploded. He let go of my face and
leaned his ear to my mouth so he could hear my humiliation.

“Maximilian!” I
cried out as the walls of my body clenched and released, clenched and released,
grabbing onto his dick like a vise. I rode out the waves clutching the sheets,
listening to his obscene talk as he kept thrusting.

“Fucking
right, Willow.
It’s Maximilian, the greatest. Don’t you dare forget
it.
This is my pussy, Willow.” Then he thought about how
pussy
willow
could refer to a plant and laughed sharply. “No pun intended.”

As I came down
from the clouds, I remembered how much I hated him. “I hate you so much, Max.”

He ignored me,
just loosened his grip on my knees and lazily planted kisses along my cheeks,
chin and forehead. Then he stuck out that tongue he’d used so thoroughly on me
and licked my forehead and temple. Releasing my legs, he slowly pulled out,
fully erect. Looking down between my legs, he began stroking himself.

“Are you ready for
me to come? Just say the word and I will not. I will keep going, pleasuring you
all day long if you want.”
 

“Just get it over
with and get off me,” I said bitterly.

“Don’t be hostile.
You enjoy our time together as much as I do.” He shuddered as he continued
stroking.

I looked away so
he wouldn’t see heat in my face. He sure was sexy.

He smiled, aware
of his affect on me. My pride was bruised all the more.

“Just come back to
me. Let me love you like this every day. That human certainly cannot,” he said.

“This isn’t love.
This is fucking. There’s a big difference.”

“When it feels
this good, who cares whether it is love.” His hand moved up and down his shaft
faster. “Touch me. I’m close. You know what I want.”

I sat up and took
over, stacking my hands around his thick length, topping his head with my
mouth. Careful not to bite him with my fangs, I sucked ’til my jaws hurt. I
knew what he wanted all right and I hated it. Not the oral sex. I actually
liked that. No, I hated what came afterward. It felt degrading when he marked
me in that way. My only solace was that this was all mental—vivid as hell—but
only mental. He wasn’t really here so he wasn’t really going to…

He groaned loudly,
jerked violently, and palmed the back of my head. Then he yanked my hair back,
releasing my hands and mouth from his body, throwing me down roughly on the bed
so he could shoot his load all over me.

“Oh! God!
Yessss
!” he shouted while his semen spurted like warm Elmer’s
glue. Although he aimed for my stomach and saturated it, evidence of his
pleasure landed all over my breasts, face, hair, and bed.

I lay grossed out,
not only because it was all over me, but because it was Max and I knew how much
he enjoyed covering me with it. Even though I couldn’t get pregnant, he never
came inside me. He’d said this way I’d know he had enjoyed himself. I think he
just wanted to fuck with my head, remind me I was his possession.

I cracked open an
eye to see the damage. His head was thrown back, fangs protruding like
mini-daggers. His muscles corded and strained as he continued stroking himself,
continued coming. He was a vision to behold—an erotic god—and yet, I couldn’t
appreciate it. I could only dwell on my contempt for him and our blood bond. He
finally groaned one last time and dropped his head like he’d fallen into a
coma.

I wished.

“Goddamn, Willow—”

“Don’t use the
Lord’s name like that.”

“—you are so good
even from afar.” He shuddered again from an aftershock. “It may be worth it to
leave my hiding place just to be inside you for real again.”

“Don’t be silly.
You’d put everyone in your blood line in danger if you came out of hiding,” I
said. He started smearing his glue all over my breasts and stomach then rubbed
it between my legs. “Please stop. Wasn’t that enough?”

“I can never get
enough of you.”

Before I could
stop myself, tears fell from my eyes in despair. I was powerless with him. Why
couldn’t I just kill him, be rid of him once and for all?

Thou
shalt
not kill.

And even if God
himself told me he would forgive me, I’d have to figure out how to kill
Maximilian, the great
maistre
vampire. He’d been
undead so long, acquired so much power and supernatural gifts, he’d become
nearly impossible to kill. Then there was that whole problem of if he died, so
did I. That’s how humans had obliterated our population so fast. They’d become
hip to our blood ties and started going after
maistre
vampires, killing two birds with one stone so to speak.

I was fucked but I
wasn’t suicidal.

He stopped rubbing
me and spoke softly, “Willow, why do you insist on making me a villain? Stop
fighting me. Let me love you.”

I laughed through
sobs. “What do you know about love, Max?”

“Making love is
love. It can be. I worship you with my body, my entire essence. I open myself
to you, give you my all.” He waved his hand like a wand across my skin without
touching me, clearing my mind of the mess, replacing it with the plain black
gown I’d lain down in. I wiped my eyes and rolled away from him.

“You have what?
Four hundred brides you can
love
? Why do you insist on staking your
claim on me?”

“It’s more like
one hundred now,” he said wistfully. “This anti-vampire sentiment has not been
good on my collection of beauties.”

“You can always
replace them like you did the ones you exiled.”

“I will not
dishonor them so. They were good, faithful brides who did not deserve such
human betrayal and cruelty. I am bidding my time…and then I will avenge them.”

I turned towards
him, shocked. “I didn’t know you cared.”

He was lying on
his side facing me, looking across the room. He’d added a black silk robe to
cover himself. The black accented his light blond hair elegantly, so much so
that I almost reached out to run my fingers through it.

His emerald green
eyes lifted to mine in that moment.

Shit, he’d read my
mind.

He reached for my
face then dropped his hand when I flinched. “Of course, I care. What kind of
monster do you take me for?” He looked solemn. “I picked each woman personally,
indiscriminate of age, weight, height, race, class. I only required them to be
beautiful and I promised they would remain that way forever if they wedded me.
I was most honored when each agreed to join me in this undead life. Now they
are truly dead.
Gone from this existence, from me.”