Enslave

Enslave

Felicity Heaton

Enslave

His determination to succeed in business has left no room in his life for love. Now, a beautiful and deadly succubus has teleported into his dark, decadent world and is in danger of enslaving his heart.

Andreu’s future entails opening an erotic theatre like Vampirerotique, gaining wealth, women and power, not shackling himself to a single female, but he cannot deny the dangerously seductive succubus who stirs his anger and passion, and tempts him like no other—he will have her.

The moment their eyes meet, Varya knows she cannot have the exotic dark vampire who sets her pulse racing. His shadowed aura marks him as forbidden, but the hungers he awakens in her are too intense to resist—she must have a taste.

When an erotically-charged kiss ignites their soul-searing passion and reveals something dangerous about Andreu, will Varya leave forever or will she dare to risk all in pursuit of something she thought was beyond her reach?

CHAPTER 1

A
ndreu watched the show unfolding. Tonight’s opening performance of the winter season was in full swing and to a packed house. It seemed that many of the aristocrat and elite vampires that had refused to set foot in Vampirerotique after discovering that one of the owners had fallen for and impregnated a werewolf had come crawling back, unable to find another theatre that could provide the erotic bloody fix they needed to satisfy their darker hungers.

That was the sort of addiction that Andreu wanted for the theatre he planned to open. Filling in for his older brother, Javier, at Vampirerotique was nothing more than temporary, half a year in which he would learn all that he could from the place and build some connections for himself. He had no interest in emulating Javier by becoming a slave to a business and binding himself to a single female. A century ago, when Javier had first told him that he was leaving Spain to open an erotic theatre in London that catered to their kind and provided live human performers, Andreu had been all for it. It had sounded like a fantastic business. It was, but Javier’s approach to the business left a lot to be desired in Andreu’s eyes.

When he opened his own theatre in the busy city of Barcelona, he wasn’t going to help run the damn thing. He would hire capable elite vampires to do the day-to-day work for him and would oversee it all from a distance, and reap the rewards. Enough money to keep him set for life and a reputation that would get him into even the most exclusive vampire clubs and would bring him a flock of females to satisfy his every carnal need.

Life would be good.

Pleasure and fun. That was what he wanted and the quickest way to get it was to get famous, get rich, and stay single.

Javier had it all wrong. Andreu couldn’t imagine what had possessed him to do something as foolish as chaining himself not only to his business but also to one woman for the rest of his long life.

Andreu leaned back in his crimson velvet seat, kicked his feet up to rest on the low curved wall that enclosed the private box, and clasped his hands behind his head, the motion causing his black designer suit jacket to fall open and reveal his equally dark shirt. He smiled and surveyed the eager audience stretched out below him and then those in the boxes that lined the wall opposite him, all of their eyes glued to the two male humans and the female vampire on the stage.

Life would be very good indeed.

The huge black four-poster bed in the middle of the stage was a new set piece. The human male chained to it by his ankles and wrists was a new twist too. Antoine, the aristocrat who handled most of the business, had decided to mix things up a little now that they were in the winter season and the night hours were longer, giving them more time for the performances. There had been many changes in the past five weeks, and not only in the shows.

He had respected Antoine once. The man had a head for business and a reputation for having a detached attitude that had given Andreu the impression that he was only interested in profit and pleasure, but it turned out that Andreu had been wrong. The pretty female blonde vampire wrapped tightly in Antoine’s arms where the powerful aristocrat stood in his usual position to the side of the audience in the stalls, watching the show, had been the first indication that Antoine wasn’t his sort of man after all. The female of their species had lured him into submission too, and that was just the tip of the iceberg.

What lurked beneath the water was Snow. Andreu didn’t intend to show it, but Snow scared the hell out of him. The huge male with platinum hair and eyes like ice was frightening enough on a good night. When he had a bad one, the man was dangerous. Insane. What had possessed Javier to ask the two aristocrats for help when he and Callum had been setting up the theatre? There were a thousand better choices in aristocrat society than these brothers. Bloodlust gripped Snow most nights, and probably infected Antoine too. If both of them lost control, it would be a bloodbath.

Andreu shuddered at the thought.

No way in Hell would he be sticking around if that happened. It was every vampire for himself in that sort of situation and Andreu would be first out of the door.

The woman in Antoine’s arms, Sera, turned and looked up at her lover. Antoine dipped his head, as though pressing a kiss to her cheek, and she went back to watching the show. Sera had been on edge until only recently, annoyed by the presence of an injured woman who had once been Antoine’s lover. The aristocrat female’s wounds had healed and she had been gone for a few days now, long enough that Sera looked more relaxed around her man. She smiled more now and had spoken to Andreu several times, although he hadn’t really made much effort to converse with her. He had spent the past few weeks learning the ropes from Javier. His work seemed easy enough, and it had its perks.

The female vampire on stage, a pretty petite redhead dressed in a black leather thong, thigh-high boots and a matching black studded bra, chained the second nude human male’s wrists above his head, attaching them to the top of one of the bedposts. She kissed him until he strained for more and then backed away. Andreu quirked a dark eyebrow as she unhooked a whip from her side and the human male turned around. She cracked the whip across his back, leaving a red streak, and the scent of blood drifted up to Andreu.

The man was strong. Whoever had selected him had known he had potent blood that would get the audience leaning forwards and eager for more. Andreu didn’t want to fall for the same lure as everyone else in the theatre, but he found himself dropping his feet to the floor and sitting up.

Javier remained relaxed beside him.

Andreu cursed his older brother for having stronger self-control and settled back into his seat, watching the woman as she struck the man again. He cried out this time and a ripple of pleasure flowed through the theatre in response, murmurs of excitement following in its wake. Nothing got a vampire’s blood pumping like the scent of blood laced with fear and pain.

The naked dark-haired male on the bed writhed with each strike she placed on the other man, his hips grinding and bucking. Low moans escaped him as he tilted his head back into the pillows. Andreu’s brow quirked again. The female vampire was transferring her own pleasure to the male, her own desire and arousal, keeping him subdued but hungry for more. The man chained to the bedpost turned around to face his dark mistress, his eyes screwed shut in evident pain. She didn’t stop. She cracked the whip across his chest, leaving a long red gash that dripped blood down flexed stomach muscles.

Andreu sucked in a sharp breath as she rewarded the human male, licking the rivulets of crimson from his chest and then stroking her tongue along the line where the whip had struck him. Devil. He wanted a show like this in his own theatre.

He leaned forwards, resting one arm on the low carved wall of the box, his gaze glued to the woman as she writhed against the man, tasting blood that Andreu wanted on his own tongue.

He breathed deeply to steady himself as his fangs emerged, pressing against his lips.

He definitely wanted a show like this one on his own stage. He had been to plenty of erotic vampire shows in his years, especially the past century, but he had never witnessed one that had such darkness and such deviation.

The petite redhead unchained the man and wrapped slender fingers around his steel collar. She lured him to the bed with her and left him at the foot of the mattress, near the other man’s feet. Andreu frowned, nostrils flaring and blood on the verge of heating with desire as she crawled up the length of the man chained to the bed. He strained to reach her, unable to move his hands more than an inch in his cuffs. The female removed her underwear, teased her breasts and the man at the same time, and then settled herself onto his cock. The man bucked up, hissing and grunting, tugging on his restraints as the woman rode him with a few swift, brutal thrusts, and then stopped. He begged for more.

Was she lessening her control over him? Normally human thralls didn’t speak. They felt only what their master fed to them. In the case of erotic shows, they felt pleasure, bliss, and ecstasy. Everything the vampire controlling them experienced.

The huge screen that hung at the back of the stage projected everything she did with her two male thralls. She looked over her shoulder at the other man, coy and innocent, her youthful face flushed with heat and dark eyes wide. A siren. What man would be able to resist such a pure-looking woman?

The man behind her stroked his erection and then came to her, obeying her silent command. He pushed her forwards with force that confirmed to Andreu that she had indeed lessened her control over the two men and was going to let them have their way for a while before she ended the show by feeding from them. She moaned loudly as he parted her buttocks and filled her with his rigid cock.

Andreu glanced at Javier. His brother wasn’t watching the show. He was on his mobile phone. Andreu shook his head and leaned back so he could catch a glimpse of the screen. A picture of Lilah filled a square to the side of the message he was reading. Andreu sighed.

“I thought this was supposed to be a brotherly bonding session?” Andreu said, his English thick with his Spanish accent.

Javier looked up, the phone screen illuminating his face, and smiled. Sickening. The glow in his brown eyes had Andreu close to giving up on this whole night and telling his brother to get the hell out of his sight and back to his woman. Love. It had turned their sister into some heartsick girl when she had once been a hardheaded businesswoman. Now it had crippled his brother.

Dios, if it came for him next he would run as fast as he could.

It was bad enough that their parents, his mother in particular, had already begun with the whole ‘one marriage leads to another’ drivel just because their sister had married and then Javier had almost got himself killed in pursuit of Lilah, and now they were marrying.

“She is looking at dresses with Kristina and has seen one that she likes, but believes it is too expensive.” Javier’s dark eyes twinkled with affection.

“How much?” Andreu played along, only because his brother would want to talk about it and it was quicker and less painful to let him get it out and then they could get on with their evening. He intended to take his brother out to some London clubs, get him drunk on blood, and then lecture him about the perils of marriage and sacrificing bachelorhood for a woman.

“Five thousand.”

“Pounds?” Andreu almost choked. “On a dress… for one day?”

Javier shrugged, his shoulders lifting his dark suit jacket, and began typing, thumbs moving fast over the on-screen keyboard, his sickening smile still in place. “Whatever my love wants, my love will have.”

Andreu blew out a sigh and went to look back at the stage.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

His senses spiked.

Someone was watching him. Andreu frowned. No. Not him. Javier had stiffened too, his fingers paused against the phone, and Andreu could feel him scouring the area with his senses. Andreu looked around at the other boxes and noticed that other vampires were suddenly on edge too.

Antoine had wrapped one arm across his woman’s chest, his hand clutching her upper arm as his pale blue eyes scanned the theatre. The side doors close to them burst open, causing some of the audience to jump, and the white-haired demon that was Snow strode up to Antoine.

“Something isn’t right,” Javier said beside Andreu and he nodded in agreement. Something was very wrong.

The performance continued unaffected. Less than a quarter of the audience showed signs of tension. Was it only vampires over a certain age that could sense whatever presence had just entered the theatre?

Andreu scoured the three tiers of private boxes across the theatre from him, trying to find what they had all sensed. Nothing out of the ordinary in any of them but the feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn’t going anywhere. The moans and deep groans from the stage distracted him and made it hard to focus but he kept searching, unwilling to let his guard down when someone powerful and non-vampire was so close to him.