Into the Darkness (11 page)

Nicolas,” she said, so desperate now for him to release her,

she let him see her trepidation. “Not now.”

His head canted and his look turned probing. “When you

are ready . . .”

She nodded quickly—anything to halt his efforts to seduce

her.

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He closed his eyes for a moment, then stepped back, letting

her slide down and lifting his hands away in mock surrender.

Chessa swallowed hard and straightened her shoulders,

wary of him as she’d never been before. Turning away, she

raked back her hair, refusing to meet his glance. “The room

is ready?”

“My team has everything prepared. Now it’s all up to the

baby vampire.”

Natalie roused slowly and snuggled closer to the source of

the warmth beneath her fingertips and cheek. It was Rene.

Even before she opened her eyes, she knew she lay beside him.

And in the moments before the muzzy grayness receded, she

remembered.

After being accosted by the black-haired devil, she’d felt

the sting of a needle entering her neck. She’d been taken from

Rene’s bedroom by a group of armed men, recalling hazy

images of men wearing black masks, and then remembered

nothing.

She peeked beneath her eyelashes to see whether they

were alone now. Her eyes widened. She didn’t recognize the

bedroom or the bed they lay in. Dusty blue-glazed walls surrounded them. A canopy of gauzy white fabric obscured the

ceiling. They lay on the softest cotton sheets she’d ever felt,

covered with a pillowy duvet in the same cloudy blue decorated with purple flowers.

They appeared to be alone.

She rolled to her back and swallowed against a faint nausea—her stomach was a little unsettled, perhaps the aftereffect of the drug that had knocked her out.

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Beside her, Rene hadn’t moved a muscle.

She leaned up on an elbow and touched his face. “Rene,”

she whispered. “Wake up.” Still, he didn’t move.

She swept back the coverlet and was shocked to see they

were both naked, and he was restrained by metal cuffs. Why

wasn’t she in a similar state?

Her stomach rumbled. Nausea raised bile in the back of

her throat. She was ravenous.

Rene’s throat lay exposed, his pulse throbbing softly as

she brushed a fingertip over it. She remembered his taste and

warmth slowly filled her.

Rene was still asleep. He might never know . . .

Alarm tightened a cold fist around her heart that her first

inclination was to take her meal from him. She backed away

from him on the bed. Although she’d done it before, she knew

she’d feel as low as a snake later if she took him when he was

completely vulnerable.

She crawled off the mattress and searched the room for

something to cover herself. She pulled a lacy throw from the

end of the bed and wound it toga-style around her body before padding toward the door.

Pressing her ear to the wood, she listened for movements

on the other side, but found only silence. She wrapped her

fingers around the doorknob and tried to turn it, but discovered it was locked.

She was torn. Although starving, she wondered whether she

should bring any attention to herself. Their capture and Rene’s

imprisonment only emphasized the fact that danger was afoot.

She paced the room, searching for an exit, but discovered

the only other door led into a well-appointed bathroom.

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Back in the bedroom, she went to the small windows high

on the wall opposite the bed and pulled back thick curtains.

The windows were barred. When she shoved up the frame,

wind whipped inside, but a glance outside revealed no nearby

houses she might shout to for help—a brick wall lay in the

distance beyond a wide green lawn below.

No help there.

A trembling shook her body as she realized they were

trapped—at the mercy of whoever held them.

However, what frightened her most was the hunger that

gnawed at her belly. Already, a tingling, prickling itch grew

in the roof of her mouth, and although she tried to resist,

her incisors slid down, the thin razor points biting into her

lower lip.

She opened her mouth and dragged in a deep breath, tilting back her head to draw cooler air inside her mouth, hoping

to relieve the ache.

Her tongue touched each sharp tip, scraping lightly, raising a droplet of blood—it was enough to cause a moan of

want to tear from her throat.

She stumbled back into the bathroom and poured a glass

of water from the carafe beside the sink. She drank it down

without pausing for a breath, hoping to assuage her thirst.

As she lowered the glass, a glance in the gilt-edged mirror

revealed a reflection she barely recognized. Her tangled hair

framed a gaunt, strained face. Her lips were swollen and pink,

and the fangs curving from beneath her upper lip extended

below her gaping lower lip.

But the differences didn’t end there. Her pale skin had acquired a faint, bluish tinge. She unwound the lacy throw and

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let it pool at her feet. Her body, always plumply curved, appeared to have lost a bit of flesh. Her breasts seemed tighter,

the nipples drawn and pointed. The indention of her waist

was a little more defined.

Then she noticed the dark brown smears on her inner

thighs and remembered the powerful, sensual thrill that had

gripped her body when Rene had thrust hard inside her the

first time.

Her pussy clenched and a trickle of moisture escaped.

Her teeth sank into her lip, but she welcomed the stinging

bite—anything not to think about what she craved most at

this very moment.

Every part of her body ached to crawl over Rene’s body,

rub her swollen breasts against his chest and drive her hips

down to take his cock deep inside—
while she drank her fill of

his blood.

She whirled toward the shower stall beside a large clawfoot tub and flung back the glass door, reaching blindly inside

for the lever that controlled the flow of water. She pulled it

out and spun it left, setting the temperature high.

Before the steam rose, she stepped beneath the scalding

water, letting the searing pulses strafe her body. She sank on

the ledge at the back of the shower and gripped the edge with

her hands.

But the heat didn’t relax, didn’t help loosen the grip of her

desires.

The pulses caressed her nipples, tightening the tips. She

lifted her hands to cover them, but couldn’t resist the urge to

cup and massage the ache swelling her breasts.

She leaned back and opened her legs, letting the spray

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sweep between her thighs. For a moment, it seemed to help.

It was almost enough to appease the raging need.

Then a tension built in her womb, a slow, curling heat that

forced her hands between her legs. She sank two fingers into

her vagina, thrusting inside and withdrawing—again and

again, until her hips moved on the slick tile beneath her ass

to counter the movements.

Christ! It wasn’t enough. She speared another finger inside

herself and rubbed the top of her pussy with the ball of her

palm, grinding hard.

When it hit, her orgasm had her crying out, shuddering as

her frantic movements slowed.

Afterward, she wrapped her arms around her belly and

cried, because she knew this was only a short respite.

She bathed herself, using a rough loofah to scrape the last

of the tiny scabs from her arms and legs. The skin beneath

the wounds was pink, but completely healed. One more question to be answered.

When she went back into the bedroom, Rene still slept,

stretched across the bed. Like an offering. Hers to take.

She lay down beside him and curved her body close to

share his heat. Her skin shivered, but deep inside the heat

rose again to test her will.

chapter

7

er body warmed as she cuddled closer. This

Hclose and this turned on, all she could do

was stare at the virile landscape lying right beside

her—right within reach.

Even relaxed, the masculine power remained

leashed inside his form. His sheer size made her feel

small and vulnerable. While they shared the same

number of limbs and toes, the differences couldn’t

be more striking . . . or thrilling.

Dark hair peppered his arms and legs. An interesting arrow, thicker, softer darted down his stomach, opening over his groin. So unlike the sparse,

pale hair between her legs.

Everywhere she was soft—he wasn’t. Her breasts

were pillowy, while his . . .

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Unable to resist, she smoothed her hands over his chest,

cupping and molding the firm, muscled hillocks. How

would it feel to have the right to sleep with her cheek resting above his heart, the steady beat a constant life-affirming comfort?

Of course, she didn’t linger there for long, not with the

most interesting territory lying to the south. She swept her

hand downward to follow the trail of dark hair beckoning her

fingers toward his sex. His cock rested along the top of his

thigh—partially erect.

She lifted her head, glad the daylight provided her first

good look. A morning hard-on? She’d heard of them, but

never actually seen the result.

She nestled closer still, sliding her thigh toward his cock,

arguing with herself all the while about whether she should

continue to explore uninvited. “Rene?” she whispered.

He didn’t so much as twitch.

Tempted beyond shame, she reached a tentative hand for

the part that fascinated her most. She lifted his penis and

measured him with her fingers, the length and girth. Only

partially filled, she could hardly believe her body had gloved

him. The smooth-as-satin texture of the skin clothing his

cock and the warmth pulsing inside her closed fist created a

longing that cramped her belly.

Slowly, his cock began to fill and lift away from his body,

growing harder, larger within her grip. Her heart thudded

loudly in her ears. Now, he was firm enough to fuck.

Her mouth watered as she remembered his taste, and she

scooted down the bed to nuzzle him with her nose—just to

breathe in his scent. Maybe that would be enough.

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But the softness of the skin that clothed his rock-hard shaft

tempted her to trail up his length with her sensitive tongue.

When she reached the ridged cap, she couldn’t resist giving

him a little kiss. Then she had to take him into her mouth,

sucking, drawing on him until his sex grew even more rigid.

Her tongue licked down the outside, tracing the fat vein

throbbing just under the surface. When she reached his sac,

she tilted her head and licked the inside of his shaft, all the

way up to the ridge that circled the plump head. She squeezed

her hand around him, noting her fingers didn’t touch, and

licked the tip of him like an ice cream cone, lapping, swirling—until a drop of pearlescent liquid beaded in the tiny

hole. Her tongue curved to take it, then returned to delve

into the eyelet opening. The salty taste of his ejaculate left

her hungrier for more.

Soon, the hunger gnawing at her belly was replaced by a

visceral, cramping need to feel him plunging deep inside her

body.

And even though she knew she was taking, again, she rose

and straddled his hips, impaling herself on his cock. She

worked him all the way inside her in short, bouncing strokes

to ease him past the sore muscles, working up a creamy lather

that soothed the hot, raw muscles of her channel.

Still he slept under the influence of whatever drug they’d

used to knock them out. While a niggling inner voice scolded

her, reminding her what she did was wrong, she remembered

how he’d felt thrusting inside her. Remorse was momentary

in light of her overwhelming need, so she sank on him, using

his cock to feed the hunger moistening her channel already

rippling along his length.

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Awkward at first, she found a rhythm and angle to her up

and down strokes that built the familiar friction.

Tentative at the start, soon she was thrusting hard against

him, grunting softly with exertion as perspiration gathered at

her temples and upper lip.

He started to make waking noises and stir beneath her so

she hurried. She gripped his shoulders when her movements

shortened, pushed off from his chest when she needed greater

height. Up and down, up and down—until her whole body

tightened and her pussy burned. Her breaths grew jagged.

Rene moved more restlessly beneath her, and her heart rate

escalated. He wasn’t quite wakening, not yet, still in the grip

of the drug and his dreams.

Too far gone, she took advantage. She had to reach a climax. Closing her eyes, she leaned back and cupped her

breasts, imagining his rougher palms squeezing them as she