Succubi Are Forever (6 page)

“Or else he dies. Yes, I am aware.” Her full mouth thinned a little.

Remy shut the door to the cell behind us. “Uh, Jacks, you might want to work a little faster. I’m pretty sure the others are coming.”

I looked over at Sophie, but she calmly watched as Remy jammed her candlestick into the door, locking the handle in place.

I didn’t need to be told twice, and since Sophie was just going to stand there, I’d work. When Zane’s mouth was freed, he didn’t move, though his lips were chapped and raw. I leaned in to kiss them, feeling the prick of his distended fangs. My fingers tugged at one of his cuffs, and to my surprise, it bent easily. I glanced down at it, and then twisted until it snapped under my grasp. It had been brittle, cheap tin. As an immortal, Zane’s strength was enormous—it had to have been the magical wards holding him down.

And as if on cue, the other three cuffs fell away from his remaining wrist and feet.

Zane moved like a flash of lightning.

He was like a blur in my vision, all black coat and red eyes. As I watched, he leapt into a crouch on top of the table, studying his surroundings. His eyes flared red as his gaze lit on me, feral with need. Wild. Inhuman.

“Zane, baby,” I said, holding my hand out to him. “Are you—”

Before I could finish the sentence, he barreled into me, shoving me to the stone wall. I felt every bone in my body protest as it met the wall, felt his hands grasp my long hair and pull it away from my neck.

And then his fangs sank into my neck as he fed ravenously.

All of that had taken the space of a brief second.

I moaned, instantly wet as his teeth pushed into my neck and he began to suck. A vampire’s bite was an instant orgasm, and I felt the bursts of pleasure flood through my body in response. He continued to suck at my throat, pulling heavily on my blood, gulping down draw after draw, until I felt the blood from his mouth slide down my neck and over my breasts. The orgasm continued to crash over me with every flick of his tongue against my neck, and my eyes rolled back in my head. Zane normally drank from me, but not like this—not with this ferocity, this intensity. This need so thick and violent that he was going to drain me completely.

And I didn’t care.

My arms wrapped around his neck and I cradled him closer, my legs wrapping around his hips as well. Bliss fogged my senses, a heady drug. I barely noticed Remy hammering at Zane’s shoulders, shouting something. I saw a brown hand reach to Zane’s hair, trying to tug him off me.

They were
totally
just jealous. I purred with each throb of the ongoing orgasm, my breath gone from my lungs. He’d taken every last whisper of it, just like he was taking my blood. He was welcome to all of it. Even when black began to cloud my vision, I moaned my pleasure. Zane’s mouth on my skin was the most exquisite sensation I’d ever felt—would ever feel. I loved it. I loved him.

His head lifted, his eyes glittering with lust as he stared at my blissful face. Blood streaked his mouth, and he leaned in to kiss me tenderly. I could taste my own blood on his lips and felt his fangs graze my own mouth. He still struggled with control.

“Princess. I took too much blood,” he rasped against my lips. Even now, they pushed against my lip, breaking the skin. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said dreamily. “Whatever you need, I’ll provide.” My body existed in a pleasant haze. Problem? There was no problem, there was only Zane, holding me close to him, my body deliciously languid. I was his meal and lover all in one. I could be a fountain of blood for him. I raised a hand to caress his cheek.

But my hand wouldn’t rise. In fact, when I tried to lift it, it just hung at my side, limply. The black continued to swim forward into my vision.

“Hold her,” Zane rasped. “I’m getting us the fuck out of here.”

I barely noticed when strong arms grasped me around my waist, supporting my body. In my dimming vision, I saw Zane rip his coat off and toss it to Remy. He glanced up at the stone ceiling.

And then he launched himself at it like a rocket. The ceiling collapsed in a rain of stone and cement.

And the world went black before my eyes.

“The best thing about this business? The men. The worst thing about this business? The men.”—
Looking Back on a Decade of Dong
,
by Remy Summore

~*~

There were no dreams for me this sleep. Perhaps Zane had drunk too much, or perhaps something else was in play. Either way, I existed in a black, hazy limbo of pleasure, outside of time and space. It was almost like being human again—a deep, restful, drugging sleep like I hadn’t experienced since becoming immortal.

A warm hand stroked my cheek, causing the black to recede.

“Wake up, Princess,” a voice called softly, and I followed it. I knew that voice. I loved that voice. I pushed the darkness away and opened my eyes.

Zane hovered over me, his eyes dark, his thirst slaked. For now. His rakish hair swept over his forehead as he dipped his head, running his gaze over my body.

“Mmm,” I said, stretching my arms over my head. I stifled a yawn, then glanced at our surroundings. A cheap, sparsely furnished room. A painting of a cowboy hung on the wall, and a TV sat atop a dresser nearby. The thick, ugly curtains were drawn over the window and I was lying on top of the world’s ghastliest bedspread. “Where are we?”

“A motel somewhere in upstate New York,” Zane said. “That was as far as we could get with you unconscious.”

His mouth tightened, and I suspected he’d been worried about me. How… sweet. I reached up and brushed my fingers over his forehead, furtively sneaking a few of his memories as I did so. Zane wouldn’t mind, after all.

One of the few perks of being a succubus was that we could push into the minds of others with a thought. It was supposed to be used to manipulate dreams, but I found I used my powers for snooping more than anything else. I pushed through his mind, sinking deep into the warmth of his familiar thoughts. His head was full of me in his arms, how delicious I tasted, and I had to drag myself away from those memories, seeking more.

In his mind, I saw Zane flying, carrying Sophie and Remy. Zane was a fallen angel, strong enough to crush a car with the flick of his hand. A vision of him punching through the floors of Phryne’s mansion shocked me. Blood was dripping down his chin. My blood.

My unconscious body was cradled in Sophie’s arms, and I could feel the bitter flash of Zane’s thoughts—he hadn’t liked that. It was jealousy—mixed with concern. His mind was focused on my body, crumpled to the floor, my neck wet with blood. He’d savaged my neck and I’d collapsed under it. A strong flash of remorse.
Too much,
he’d thought.
Drank too much. Wasn’t careful with her
.

Aw. Such a marshmallow. I reached up and stroked my hand through his hair. “You’re not hurt, Zane?”

He sat back on his haunches, still hovering over me. He patted his coat and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, taking one and lighting it. His eyes flared with emotion, his mouth a grim line. “I should be asking you.”

“Immortal,” I said, thumbing my chest. “We heal everything. Remember?”

The cigarette flicked and I watched his jaw clench, tensing. “Doesn’t give me the right to hurt you. To take from you without permission.”

Was that why I saw all the self-loathing in his eyes? He thought he’d taken without permission? He thought he’d hurt me?

Total marshmallow.

I hooked my hands into his coat and pulled him toward me. He resisted, just a little, and I reached up and plucked the cigarette out of his mouth, tossing it into a nearby ashtray. “Vampire, how would you feel if you woke up from your day-sleep to find me riding your hand?”

And I lifted my hips at that. They were still pinned under him, but even pushing against his immovable body felt incredibly good. The Itch stirred in my body. Mmm, how long had I been out? Didn’t care, really.

His eyes flared with desire and he leaned in to kiss my mouth. “I’d find it incredibly arousing. And I’d do my best to help you along.”

The husky timbre of his voice was arousing me too. I nibbled at his lip and gave my hips a suggestive flex under him once again. “So why would you think I would react any differently to your feeding?”

“Because I hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” I assured him, and then licked at the seam of his mouth. “Unless an unending orgasm starts to hurt at some point.”

He chuckled and then his tongue flicked to meet mine. “I should have asked first. I was just… starving. Crazed. I’ve… never been that close to the edge before.”

“Poor baby.”

“I hurt you. Was rough with you. I don’t like that.”

Mmm, rough. My nipples were growing hard at the feel of him over me, and I wanted to be out of this annoying gown like, yesterday. I also wanted my vampire between my legs. Deep inside me. Drinking from my neck again. Just the thought made my sex pulse with need and I gave a little whimper at the mental image. “Sometimes I like it rough.”

His eyes flared red with immediate need. “Do you?” he asked hoarsely.

I licked his lower lip, then sucked on it. “With you I do,” I said softly. “Because I know that despite all this strength, all this power, you’d never hurt me intentionally.”

And then I took his lower lip in my own again and bit down. Hard.

He groaned, his eyes flaring red. I felt his fangs elongate against my own lips, and I raised my hips under him again, hoping he’d get the message.

I needed him. Right now.

His eyes had gone that dark, hazy red, and I quivered with need, anticipating the moment that he’d sink his fangs into my skin again.

“You want me to take you rough?” he said, his voice ragged.

“As rough as you want,” I encouraged, squirming under him. He looked incredibly aroused by the idea, and hell, that aroused me too.

He leaned in to kiss me, his teeth clashing with mine. The kiss was brutal and punishing, and his fangs scraped against my lips.

I loved it. A low moan rose in my throat.

His fingers went to the front of my dress and as his tongue thrust into my mouth, he ripped it away. My breasts bounced with the force of his movement. Zane lifted his head; his gaze fell there.

Immediately, my nipples puckered. I arched my back a little, pushing my breasts into the air. My hands went back to his hair.

He grasped my wrist, his eyes locking on mine, and ever so slowly, pushed it over my head, pinning my arm there. With his other hand, he captured my second wrist and then pinned them both above my head with one hand. I was trapped underneath him.

At his mercy.

I was so wet at the thought of it.

I licked my lips and shivered a little, noticing his gaze falling back to my breasts again. “Are you going to bite me, Zane?” God, was that husky, aroused voice mine? It practically sounded like a purr of need. “Sink your teeth into my breasts?”

“I am,” he growled low, then leaned down and scored his sharp teeth over my left breast.

The breath caught in my throat, the sharp pain of his teeth raking my skin giving way to a fierce pulse of pleasure. As I looked down, blood beaded on my breast in a line. He leaned down and very gently licked it. “You taste sweet, Jackie. I could never get used to the pleasure of drinking from you.”

“For all eternity,” I added.

“I need to learn to pace myself,” he said in a low voice, his free hand tracing a circle around the plump weight of my breast. “Lest you become immune to my touch and bored with it.”

I laughed. “Never.”

He gave me a wicked grin, then leaned in and sank his teeth into the curve of my breast. It was a fierce, hard bite, and my eyes rolled back in my head with delight at the sensation. Now he would drink. Now he would take what I was offering. He’d shove deep inside me and sink his teeth in as I came.

But he didn’t drink. Blood welled on my breast, slid down the globe of it, and he leaned in and bit me again, right next to the other bite, his teeth sinking deep.

My mouth worked in a soundless gasp, watching as he withdrew again, only to bite once more. This bite wasn’t the instant orgasm—he had to drink for that to happen. And once he drank, he’d send me to sleep, a magical side effect of his bite.

But I didn’t go to sleep. And he wasn’t drinking. Instead, he was painting my skin with bites, each one an exquisite burst of sharp pain followed by searing pleasure. He’d pull up to glance at me, his tongue licking my blood away from his fangs. Tasting me. My sex throbbed at the sight. God, he was sexy.

When he sank his teeth into the other breast, I moaned, jerking my arms against his hand. He held me tight, and I was helpless to do anything but writhe under him. This was torture. It was heaven. Each time, a sharp nip of pain was accompanied by an intense burst of pleasure.

“Do you want me, Jackie?” he rasped, even as he bit down again.

I moaned my need. “I do. Please, Zane.”

“If you want more, then keep your hands on the headboard,” he said softly, and released my hands. His own went to the waist of my dress, and with a loud tear, he tossed it away from my body. My panties snapped as if made out of cobwebs, and then I was bare under his gaze.

His mouth grazed down my belly and then he sank his teeth into the soft flesh surrounding my belly button.

I moaned, arching against him to sink his fangs further in. That bite was just a tease. I looked down to see the blood welling on my belly, my breasts streaked with crimson, and still he bit and snapped at me.

This wasn’t rough sex. This was exquisite, biting torture, and my lover was my willing torturer.

My hips rose with need and I whimpered again, wishing he would slide downward. “Zane. Please.”

His mouth grazed my hip, and he nipped lightly, just enough to draw blood. I watched him with hot eyes. “This isn’t fair,” I said, eyeing his bare chest and the erection that tented his jeans. “I want you naked too.”

Completely casual, he ripped at his own jeans and they fell away from his body and landed on the floor. Well damn, that was a neat trick. His underwear soon followed and then Zane was totally naked over me. His body skimmed up mine, my blood painting his chest.