Honeymoon Bite (Golden Vampire Legacy) (6 page)

“Shut up and fuck me.”

“Never argue with a lady.” Gary muttered. He grabbed the box of condoms and prepared himself. Monika rolled over to her back and he began his vigil. Foreplay wasn’t necessary, as the limo was honking downstairs.

Robert came back, towel in hand, rubbing his crotch. He stroked himself a few times, watching Gary and Monika, but he couldn’t get hard, so he dropped the towel in the bathroom and got dressed. He watched them the whole time.

“I’m giving pointers, Monika,” Gary rasped. “Notice what a difference the size makes?”

“Uh hum,” was all she could say. She watched Robert as he dressed. The groom understood from the look in her eyes that she had wanted to be the bride. He saw a tear or two before she managed to wipe them away without Gary seeing them. This private moment touched something in Robert’s heart, and surprised him.

“You’re a good girl, Monika, honey. Thank you. That was real nice.” Robert smiled. He meant every word. He walked out to the living room. “Any century now will do, Gary. I’m waiting down at the limo.”

He was greeted with cheers. There was a triple-X DVD playing and the guys had popped some champagne and beer. He crawled in front by the driver.

“Hey, Charles. Thanks for taking us out tonight.”

“No problem, Mr. B. Are we all here, then?” The driver had been on assignment for several of their parties.

“No. Gary’s coming, and there’s the girl.”

“Right.”

Noise erupted from the back at the sight of Gary, who strode fully clothed from the house but tugging a bare-footed Monika along, who wore only one of Robert’s shirts buttoned halfway up the front. Robert looked at her nice legs and pink toes and sighed. The driver chuckled.

“Looks like you’re gonna have a little fun too,” Robert said to the driver.

“Oh, no, I don’t touch the merchandise when I’m on duty.”

“But you can look, right? She likes it when you look.”

The driver laughed again. “Yeah, I can look. That’s my favorite part nowadays. I’m happily married.”

“Yup. That’ll be me tomorrow. But not tonight.” Robert punched the driver in the arm and went to join his friends in the back.

Monika was already on another lap. The sound of a belt buckle clanged as they sped off to the topless bar.

When they pulled back to the house at five AM, Monika was asleep in the back, curled up into a ball. Half the party was asleep too, overcome with alcohol and excesses of the evening. The coke had run out. Time to go to bed for a couple of hours.

Robert picked Monika up and carried her inside. Gary made a space for her on the couch but Robert went right past him to the bedroom and closed the door.

Yeah, he’d been an idiot, he thought. Anne’s brother practically decked him the day of the wedding after the bride left in their limo. Gary got so ripped he knocked over the cake, not that there were many guests left to eat it. The DJ kept playing like the orchestra on the Titanic. The place looked deserted. To make matters worse, he caught Monika in a lip-lock with some dark caveman who liked to dance the bear hug. She’d fainted in his arms and the guys laid her on a settee in the dressing room, in her blue maid of honor dress. Too much champagne, he thought. They’d all nearly left her there passed out.

But he’d gone back and brought her to Anne’s house.
That
sexual liaison he remembered. Vividly. Unhurried, like the one earlier in the day in the bathroom, but just as urgent. God, he loved fucking Monika. And in a way, Monika made him a better man too. He didn’t feel dirty for loving her, and he knew he truly did. Hell, he loved them both.

And then Anne had walked in. He never wanted to see his lovely Anne look at him like that again. Woke him up from the fantasy that he could just go along without making a choice. Saw the reality of the pain he’d caused everyone.

He thought about her place. He’d always liked it there. Maybe she would give him another chance, although he admitted he didn’t deserve one. Anne was looking more attractive the less available she was. He began to think he was budding a conscience.

Something messed up with that.

He’d have to mend his ways. Maybe start going to meetings again.

Fuck that.

He knew he was slipping into an abyss. Now it was getting dangerous, and bloody.

Robert shook his head and swore under his breath, slammed his palm down on the coffee tabletop.

He was forgetting things, too. First, he’d cheated on his wife, and now last night he had cheated on Monika. He was going to have to figure out what exactly he wanted and stick to the plan. Getting Anne back was Plan A. But he knew he had a much better chance with Plan B.

Chapter 6

Anne opened the heavy wooden door to her room, a converted cell in an old monastery. The Majorcan summer night air was warm and fragrant. Maybe she could float.
Something to try another time.
Just five days into her change and she was still getting used to her new self. Tonight she needed to feed—a need that would not be denied or it could get dangerous. And bloody.

She loved the sounds her feet made as she lightly skipped along the moonlit cobblestoned street. The cool smell of dusty stone houses was pleasant.

She could even smell blooming jasmine and orange blossoms from miles away. She was still adjusting to the sensory overload that was now her daily challenge. Pulling a deep purple satin cape about her neck, she drifted down the cobblestoned streets of the village, high atop the hills. If it weren’t two in the morning, she would be able to see the ocean, but she could smell its salty air. The unmistakable rusty scent of blood arrived not thirty yards in front of her.

Men.

A whole group of them. Young. Virile. In their peak of health. Her favorite kind.

Her first few attempts to feed had been pathetic failures, and she’d barely enough to satisfy her needs. She’d ruined clothes until she learned she could get her feeding done as they were showering.

She didn’t have the desire to kill, just to feed, but her first few attempts ended in death for the human, sadly. If she took someone expendable, like a street drunk, she could get high from the alcohol, or worse, from the drugs in their system. And she hated eating while the smell of urine, vomit, and weeks-old human sweat filled her nostrils. She had indeed been cursed those first few days until she learned how to leave the humans alive. Then she discovered several other things she liked about her new form.

For the first time in her life, she wasn’t afraid of anything. She was able to process every little detail of a scene, even down to the smallest pebble. She could hear the footsteps of small bugs that lived under rocks and the whir of bee wings, the language of crickets and mating calls of frogs in the rain. Liberated from all her doubts and concerns for her own safety, she felt sexual arousal constantly, especially when she caught a particular scent that lingered near her. She’d been aware of it in her bed, in her shower. She’d feel it curl around her like arms of a lover and she’d basked in the tingly feeling it brought her ultrasensitive skin.

She had no idea what kind of being she had turned into. One thing she knew for sure, she certainly was not human.

She studied the five handsome twenty-something young men who stood before her, probably out for a night of dancing and drinking. Anne sensed they were looking to satisfy their sexual appetites. That worked.

She picked out the tallest, and handsomest male in the group. The alpha, she thought. He was so sexy the way his confident, loose gait carried his muscular body straight to her. His dark brown bedroom eyes perused her over, and yes, she had to admit, her nipples tightened so hard they hurt, and she felt the delicious wetness in her panties as her sex vibrated to life.

Hands on her hips, she smiled back at him. The others hung slightly back, gawking. This alpha was the stud, the legendary one.

Perfect.

“Hi there,” she whispered. The boys were animated. They registered she was an American and spoke among themselves.

Alpha rubbed his palm against his chin, then swiped his fingers across his lips and made no mystery of focusing on her cleavage. Anne flushed at the attention. She was hungry too.

“It is late and you are alone in a dangerous place,” he said in English with a thick Spanish accent. She liked the way his Adam’s apple bounce up and down his tanned throat as he spoke.

“But I’ve found you. Will you save me?”

His friends laughed enthusiastically. Alpha was wary. “You do not look like a professional—”

Anne urgently stepped to him, then rubbed her breasts against his clean white shirt opened two buttons too low. She noticed the golden cross tucked in his dark chest hair. “I am not a professional,” she said, “but are you?”

The boys roared. Whistles and catcalls laced the air. Alpha searched the smiling faces of his compadres, who encouraged him. At last, he inhaled and took a long, slow look into her eyes, then dropped his gaze down to her chest. His half smile showed a delicious dimple on the right. In a husky voice he answered, “It has been said a time or two.”

This was good news. She craved him even more for his bravado. She saw the flush cover his face and the rush of blood down to his groin. The scent of his blood was laced with tangerines and red wine. He stood tall, his chest extended, showing her he was all male, that he was capable of pleasuring her in surprising ways. She liked that.

Without taking her eyes off his, she extended her hand. She touched his cheek and watched it deliciously flush his skin again. Then she moved her palm to rest at the side of his neck, underneath his muscled jaw line. His pulse was strong and intoxicating.

“Can you show me around and then take me home? Are you up for that?” She rubbed the length of him with her other hand, ignoring the whoops and hollers of the other boys. He stood before her, caught in the web of her glamour, every delicious drop in his body trying to jump ship. Her effect on him was obvious: he would do anything she wanted him to do to pleasure her.

Anything.

Marcus stood alone in the shadows, fully cloaked, and hung back well away from the crowd. He watched Anne lean in and kiss the tall male. As difficult as it was, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. His hands fisted as he saw the male place his palms against her backside, and then creep into and under her wrap to find her flesh.

She is mine.

The erection in his pants was getting uncomfortable. He could send an erotic wave toward her and make her so horny she’d ignore the stranger and run up the little hill, straight into his arms, where he could finally claim her.

Anne and the young Spaniard were fully engulfed in a deep kiss, exploring each other’s bodies. The young man’s group moved away, clearing their throats and making whistling noises, but getting no response from their tall friend. The group evaporated into the streets. Anne and the large male were alone, surrounded by warm night air. Would she remove some of her clothing? Show herself to him before she took his blood? Marcus hoped not, but knew well about the new erotic forces making her do things she wasn’t used to.

Either way, he was bound by duty not to interfere. This was to be his curse of the moment. All he could do was watch. She was a married woman, and the possession of another man. A mortal man who didn’t deserve the heavenly gift of her body and all its charms, someone incapable of understanding what her needs were or that she was created for a higher, more powerful love. A love only Marcus could give her.

The male nuzzled her breasts. For one brief moment Marcus saw the magic of her flesh exposed to him in the moonlight, saw the beautiful mound, now glistening wet from the stranger’s probing tongue.

She lets him have his way with her. Will she open her other parts to him as well?
Marcus was filled with unspeakable sadness. He had to do something.

He double-checked his cloaking, then moved to stand behind her and was immediately charmed by her sweet vanilla scent, which brought his groin to life. He reached an invisible hand to her shoulder, to touch her there, or perhaps her neck, to feel the fullness of her soft dark brown curls, to beg her to feed from him instead. Her name stuck in his throat and he whispered what only he could hear, “Anne.”

The ache in his chest intensified as he smelled her arousal. He placed his lips to her ear and pretended she could hear him tell her of his need for her. Of his centuries spent waiting, longing for the one woman created for him. His fated female. Marcus needed to pour out his melancholy so he could purge himself forever of this burden.

You are here at last. See me, Anne. See and feel me. Feel how I love you, have always loved you.

He wanted to think her sigh and the sultry smile on her lips came because she somehow knew her fated male stood behind her, ready to open the doors to their love, arousing her need to partake of the ancient ritual for their kind.

The male was expecting sex, and he had shoved her skirts up, seeking her core with his long fingers. This was to be Marcus’s right. He felt her swoon as the man’s finger traced over her pleasure button. He could smell her wetness, her need for sexual release.

He whispered to himself again.
Anne, it is I you need. Let it be me who pleasures you, makes you moan hour-by-hour, day-by-day. Let it be me you crave more than the blood in any vein. Crave my blood, Anne. Drink of me, and let me fill you with eternal pleasure. It is our fate. Our destiny together.

Marcus felt the hunger for blood rise in her chest, the smell of the glamour that came on just before the feeding. It would calm the human, would transform the bite into a memory, make the male think he had the best sex of his young life instead of what it really was.

She came at his neck with fierce determination. She was so beautiful. So strong. So demanding. And Marcus knew he could meet every one of her demands. Only he could do it, he thought as she brought her thigh up over the male’s hip. They collapsed to the ground. Marcus kneeled at her back, rested his head there and smelled the scent of her flesh, listening to the blood from this male rush in to fill her cavities, bringing her strength, life.