Temptation at Twilight: Lords of Pleasure

Table of Contents

 

 

He reached out and ran his fingers down her cheek. “Oh, you’re going home with me, just not as my slave. My brothers and I don’t believe in that practice. But I plan to keep you busy.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

“You will be one of my Chosen, for my exclusive use.”

A thrill went through her body at the prospect of belonging to this man—in every way. Staring at him, taking in the determined set of his jaw, the heat in his eyes, she knew that no piece of paper, or lack thereof, would stand in his way when it came to owning her.

He stepped close, reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. That golden gaze mesmerized her, drawing her into the flames. Her skin burned from the mere graze of his fingers, and she wanted more. “Is this acceptable to you?”

“Yes,” she said breathily. “I want to know what it’s like to be Chosen.”

He gave her a sexy half smile. “It’s pure pleasure, like nothing you’ve felt before.” Cupping the back of her head, he brought his lips to hers, whispering against them. “It’s addictive, a little dangerous. I’ll show you.”

He captured her mouth and thrust his tongue inside, exploring. The vampire tasted so good, and felt even better with his hard chest pressed against her, holding her close. He surrounded her totally, and while she knew the very real dangers of succumbing to such a cunning predator, she’d never had the sense of peace that swamped her now. There was freedom in allowing him to have his way, a sense of rightness. She wanted him to take everything....

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First published by Heat, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

First Printing, November 2011

Copyright © Jo Carlisle, 2011

All rights reserved

 

HEAT is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA:
Carlisle, Jo.
Temptation at twilight: lords of pleasure/Jo Carlisle.
p. cm.

ISBN : 978-1-101-54574-4

1. Vampires—Fiction. 2. Brothers—Fiction. 3. New Orleans (La.)—Fiction. 1. Title.
PS3603. A7526T46 2011
813’.6—dc22 2011026919

 

 

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As always, my special thanks to:

A
bove nearly all else, Soren Fontaine loved playing with his food.

This particular feast rode his cock with enthusiasm, a fall of blond hair framing full, bouncing breasts tipped with pert, rosy nipples. His fingers dug into the soft globes of the woman’s ass, and he hissed with pleasure as she sank onto his slick rod again and again, her cries getting louder with every thrust.

Snug heat surrounded him, massaged his length as his breaths shortened. Too soon the wonderful bliss became fire that spread through his belly, balls, and thighs. So close.

Along with the impending orgasm, hunger rose swiftly, demanding the ultimate completion to assuage the predator within. Sitting up, he pushed her hair aside, exposing the pale skin of her neck, where he immediately fixated on the pulse of life flowing there. His tongue flicked out, tasting salt and desire, a hint of the nectar too sweet to resist.

He struck, sinking his fangs deep into her throat. Hot blood splashed over his tongue, more potent than his most expensive liquor and ten times as satisfying.
Gods.
He was lost in ecstasy, barely aware of her pussy spasming around his cock, fingers clutching, pulling his long hair, urging him on. To take more.

Take it all.

Shit, he longed to do just that. Tear into the delicate throat, drink until her heartbeat faded to silence and both his body and thirst were sated. Until he’d taken every drop, was drenched in sweat, blood, and cum.

Vampires were killers by nature. Creatures of seduction and death. Perfect predators.

But he’d learned restraint since those early blood-and-sex-soaked days nearly three centuries past.

Now he unleashed the full deadly nature of his beast only on those who deserved it.

“Oh, fuck, yes!” Trisha cried, gyrating on his lap. “Master!”

Master
. That word sent him over the edge, his release exploding in a blinding flash of white. He filled her, gradually coming down from the incredible high that never got old, the haze of passion lifting. Carefully, he removed his fangs and licked her neck to seal the small wounds. The tiny scars would join the others, marking her as one of the coven’s Chosen—a willing human selected to live permanently at La Petite Mort, serving Soren and his brothers exclusively, tending to their bodies’ needs.

“Thank you,
ma chère
,” he said softly, kissing the top of Trisha’s shiny head. Exhausted, she slumped against his chest, head on his shoulder.

“My pleasure as always, Lord Soren.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

Lips curving in fondness, he eased her off his lap and situated her in the center of his huge bed, then tucked the covers around her shapely form. “Sleep,
petite
. You’ve earned the rest.”

“Yes, master.” She was asleep almost instantly.

Moving quietly, he retrieved fresh clothing from the walk-in closet and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door so as not to disturb the slumbering Chosen. Trisha was one of his favorites. As he turned on the shower, he thought once again of how much she resembled Helena lying there, tired out from his attentions.

Helena, his one true mate, human and therefore fragile. Dead and gone. But perhaps not lost forever.

The warm glow of great sex and good feeding dissipated like the steam rising from the shower. How simple it would be if he could take Trisha, or another of the Chosen, as his mate. Any one of them would make a fine companion to change into one of his kind and ease the loneliness of existing forever without someone special to share his burdens and joys.

If only he could accept someone other than his gentle, beautiful Helena.

But he couldn’t bring himself to mate with another. If it meant a bargain with the devil himself, he’d bring his love back to his side. No matter the price. He
would
.

The pain of Helena’s loss hit him fresh, and he shoved down the debilitating sorrow with effort. Tonight, after more than a century of fruitless searching, he’d have an answer to the question of how to bring her back.
Sure, you’ve said that many times before.