Read The Last True Vampire Online
Authors: Kate Baxter
Stiff, wet, warm. Soft. Gentle and then forceful. He plunged his tongue into her channel before flicking out at her clit. Soon he fell into a rhythm, teasing her, bringing her close to the edge before pulling back, making only enough contact to give her pleasure. Not enough to bring the release she craved.
“Bite me, Mikhail. Now.”
She couldn’t wait another second. Refused to. He angled his head into her inner thigh and sank both pairs of fangs deep into her flesh while he worked her sensitive knot of nerves with the blunt pad of his thumb. Claire came in a violent spasm that sent her back arching away from the shower wall. Her ankles hooked between his shoulder blades, she sobbed her pleasure as one shock wave after the next broke her completely apart. Mikhail sucked greedily at her thigh and a surge of pure power infused every pore, every cell, every inch of her. The orgasm ebbed, the waves merely ripples now, but the power she felt through her bond with Mikhail left her breathless and shaking.
She now truly understood the depth and scope of their tether.
Her soul
knew
his. She’d scoffed at how quickly he could claim to love her, but now that she was turned she felt everything with so much more intensity. She recognized emotions in an entirely different way. Her human brain wasn’t weeding through logic anymore, trying to justify things that didn’t need justification. Now she was running on instinct. Could she love the man holding her?
Absolutely.
Water droplets clung to Mikhail’s skin. Claire watched with fascination, her new keen eyesight picking up on the minute changes as the tiny drops grew fatter, heavier, before they released their hold on his skin and ran in tiny rivulets over the dips and hills of sculpted muscle. She looked down at him, combing her fingers through the wet locks of his hair as his tongue passed over the two sets of punctures his fangs had opened in her thigh. The skin tightened as the wounds closed and he lingered, kissing, licking, nipping at her sensitive flesh. Savoring her in the way she’d savored him only moments before.
Claire never wanted this moment to end.
That delicious scent of his arousal billowed around her in the steam and she swung her legs from around his shoulders as he lowered her to his waist. An almost imperceptible tremor shook Mikhail, vibrating into Claire. “What is it?” she murmured close to his ear. His scent changed, an almost citrus tang.
“You’re changed. But not.” Mikhail’s large hand encircled her waist, holding her secure as he pulled back to study her. Silver chased across his gaze and his brow furrowed. “Your scent, your taste … your blood. It’s the same. You were drained, Claire.” His voice hitched. “Gregor bled you dry. I fed you from my vein, replenished what you’d lost. You’ve fed from others and yet…” The furrow in his brow cut deeper as the words died on his tongue.
“Should I taste differently now?” She laughed. “Smell like a vampire, maybe?”
“Yes,” he said on an emphatic breath. “Claire, you are—”
“A freak?” she ventured with a smile. “Such a screwup that I can’t even turn into a vampire correctly?
“You are
extraordinary
.”
The heat in his gaze sent a thrill of excitement through her. His mouth claimed hers, hungry and demanding. Desperate. Claire returned his ardor, her lips slanting over his as she thrust her tongue into his mouth in a wet, urgent tangle. He rolled his hips as he pushed down on hers, impaling her on his cock in a forceful thrust. Claire gasped, the intensity of sensation stealing her breath as the satiny glide of his rigid sex caressed her inner walls.
Sex had never felt so damned
good
.
This was beyond good. Surpassing emotion and sensation that Claire could form words for. Mikhail pulled out, thrust hard and deep, and a primal growl worked its way up his throat. But he was still too restrained for what she needed.
“Don’t hold back.” She fisted his hair, rolled her hips into his. “You never have to with me.”
Her words sparked something in him and Mikhail’s lips pulled back to reveal the vicious points of his fangs. He pressed her hard against the tiled wall, his fingers biting into her ass as he picked up his pace, fucking into her as though his very life depended on each desperate thrust. Claire’s eyes drifted shut for a blissful moment before Mikhail’s hand wound in the length of her hair. He jerked her head to the side, and she opened her eyes to find his gaze locked on the elongated column of her throat.
“What are you waiting for?” she panted. He pounded furiously into her, knocking her back against the shower wall. A snarl tore from his throat moments before he buried his fangs into her flesh. The sting of his bite coupled with the powerful suction sent a euphoric rush chasing through Claire’s veins.
A scream erupted from her lips as she came. Deeper, more intense, than the last orgasm, this one didn’t simply shatter her; it ripped her apart. Something pulsed not just from her core outward but also from her soul outward. A ripple that disrupted the time and space of her tiny universe. “Harder! More! Don’t stop!” The words seemed incomprehensible, tumbling from her lips in a desperate rush. She had no idea if her commands were in regards to his bite or the way he was fucking her, but it occurred to Claire that they were one and the same. An act of love, of their bond, and one would never occur without the other.
Her hips bucked as the orgasm continued to crest over her, wave after violent wave until Claire was shaking and her breath came in desperate, shuddering gasps. Mikhail disengaged from her throat with a roar and Claire’s focus was drawn to his throat.
Oh, god.
If she didn’t sink her fangs into that flesh, if she didn’t taste him, now, she’d lose her mind.
She struck with the speed of a cobra, instinct guiding her as she latched on to the flesh that concealed the throbbing vein. The skin popped and a rush of sweet warmth cascaded over her tongue. Claire had never tasted anything so good as Mikhail’s blood. His chest heaved with labored breath and Mikhail thrust harder, filling and stretching every inch of her pussy as he fucked her with wild abandon. Like an animal. Just how she wanted him.
She swallowed and the scratchy heat abated in her throat, a fire quenched in an instant. Even after the intensity of her orgasm, Claire felt a satiation that at once completed her and made her greedy for more. Another long pull brought with it another mouthful of the sweet nectar and Claire swallowed it down eagerly. No wonder Mikhail craved her blood like an alcoholic jonesing for his next drink. If there was anything she could ever become addicted to it was this.
Him
.
Mikhail’s thrusts picked up in pace, his body jerking in a disjointed rhythm. Claire kept her jaws locked firmly around his throat, one hand wound tightly in his hair and the other gripped so tightly to his shoulder that her nails penetrated the skin. A tremor shook his body and he called out as he came, jet after heated jet filling Claire, flooding her body with a radiant warmth that turned her muscles to mush.
His orgasm seemed to go on forever. Claire continued to drink from his vein, each deep suck matching the pulse of his cock inside of her. Claire’s body grew heavy, her mind fuzzy. The hand at his shoulder fell limply to her side, and the one in his hair released its hold. The only things keeping her upright were Mikhail’s palms cupping her ass.
He brought himself down from the moment slowly. Pulling almost completely out before sliding with languid ease as he sank back in. Claire was boneless. Thoughtless. A being without form or substance. A gossamer thing floating through a vast universe until she was slowly pulled back into orbit.
Tethered. To Mikhail Aristov. Her mate.
He pulled out completely and a sense of loss and emptiness opened up inside of her. She rolled her scored tongue over the punctures in his throat, the way he had done to her, and she felt them close with every gentle pass. Claire wobbled on her feet as he set her down and Mikhail steadied her. His expression was soft, full of unspoken emotion, as he leaned in toward her.
“Mine.” The word rumbled in his chest and vibrated over her skin.
No truer words had ever been spoken. Emotion swelled in Claire’s chest and rose as a lump in her throat. She reached up, cupped his cheek in her hand. “Mine,” she repeated, feeling the truth of the word in the root of her soul.
Not another word was spoken between them. There was no need for any. Mikhail washed her, lathering her body with a bar of soap, his large palms working her body into a state of relaxation that made Claire wonder how she was still upright. He washed her hair, easing his fingers through its length as he maneuvered her under the spray, combing out the tangles as he rinsed it. She returned the favor, taking her time as she acquainted herself with every swell of muscle, every straight line and curve, as she used her sudsy hands to map his body, committing each detail to memory.
The water began to cool by the time they were both squeaky-clean. Claire had never had a more decadent shower, and the bathroom had officially become her favorite room in Mikhail’s thousands of square feet of living space. He toweled her off and draped a fluffy terry-cloth robe over her shoulders. Claire quirked a brow as she slipped her arms into the soft fabric, cinching the belt tight around her waist.
“Did you just have this lying around?” she asked with a sly smile.
“I sent Alex out for a few things,” he murmured, placing a light kiss on her lips. “We’ll go out shopping together soon. When things have settled. Whatever you need. Want. It’s yours.”
She didn’t care about clothes or anything else that could be bought in a store. She reached up on her tiptoes and returned his soft kiss with one of her own. “I have everything I need. Right here in front of me.”
After centuries of empty soullessness, Mikhail was finally whole. Nothing could have prepared him for what Claire had ignited in him. He no longer saw the future as an endless chasm, dark, cold, and as lonely as a tomb. And despite the danger that loomed, he no longer feared that, either. They had both survived their trials. Nothing in this world could separate them now.
That wasn’t to say that there weren’t many loose ends still to be tied up. One of them was currently sitting on the couch in the living room, tiny legs tucked beneath her as she channel surfed.
After her weeklong transition, Claire was still riding the high of her transformation. What had happened prior to that—the incident at her apartment building—hadn’t even entered her mind. So far Mikhail hadn’t sensed an ounce of distress in her, but when her memories of that time surfaced past the Collective it was sure to rekindle that distress.
“When can I see Claire?” The girl, Vanessa, had remained remarkably calm considering all she’d been put through. She shared Claire’s resilience, that spark of
otherness,
and that the Sortiari had spared the child only served to pique Mikhail’s curiosity.
“Soon.” Alex had stocked the kitchen with kid-friendly food, as he’d called it. Popcorn, soda, prepackaged pizzas, and other such things that could be easily cooked in a microwave. It all looked like junk to Mikhail, but he wasn’t about to argue. Not when the girl had already been through so much. If she wanted to eat food that looked no better than the cardboard it was packaged in, then so be it.
After their shower, Claire had collapsed back into their bed, falling into a deep sleep almost before her head had a chance to settle on the pillow. Their bed. The thought filled Mikhail with a deep sense of satisfaction. There would never be another sunset that he would awaken to lonely. Incomplete. Perhaps even, with time, the nightmares would fade and having Claire by his side would banish those specters of his past spent in that damned tomb beneath the ground.
Though until Gregor the Black died a bloody death not much would serve to truly heal Mikhail from the ordeal.
Which led him to his second and third loose ends. “I have a meeting now, Vanessa. Do you think you can entertain yourself for a while?” Alex had gone home. Ronan was out on another errand, and Jenner was in the study, keeping watch over Mikhail’s reluctant guest. For the girl’s safety, Mikhail hoped there was enough on TV to keep her riveted to the screen. At least until tonight’s business was concluded.
“I’m fine,” she said without looking away from the teenage-fueled drama fest currently playing. Mikhail pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. Was this even appropriate for a girl her age to watch? He had no fucking clue. “I’ve decided that since I’m staying here, I should get to stay up all night and sleep all day, too. It’s totally cool with me.”
Again, Mikhail felt entirely too unprepared to care for a human girl. Didn’t she have school to attend? He’d have to check with Alex, since care of the girl had fallen to him in Claire’s absence. He hoped that his mate would soon wake, because he had a feeling he was going to be in way over his head with this one. “We’ll see what Claire thinks about it,” he replied as he headed toward the study. “Stay put until my guest leaves. Yes?”
“Yes, sir,” she said with a saucy salute and a wide smile. Something in Mikhail’s chest tightened at her beaming expression and he wondered, would his own child have as instant an effect on him as this girl had?
Jenner stood outside the sliding doors that led to the study, his spine ramrod straight and his expression fierce. He was weighed down with an assortment of weapons: a saber strapped to his back, twin daggers at his thighs, and a pair of semiautos under each arm. The male meant business, and Mikhail couldn’t be happier for Jenner’s presence. In a few short days he’d undergo the transition, though Mikhail wouldn’t let it happen as carelessly as he’d turned Ronan.
“She’s playing nice.” Jenner’s voice grated like metal scraping over gravel as he let out a soft snort of derision. “But she doesn’t really have a choice at this point, does she?”
Everyone had a choice. Including Siobhan. They would never be allies, but he hoped that they could reach a tentative peace at least for now. He left Jenner outside the door, confident the cagey female wouldn’t try to kill him in his own home. She was here because she wanted to hear what he was about to say. And he was going to make the most of this reluctant meeting.