Authors: Talyn Scott
As his community grew, Rave needed more Donors, or he needed to find a way to breed them.
He entered the chamber of a sweet dark-haired and pale female. She trembled the minute he neared her, but he refused to take it to heart. He was her imprisoner, and most days; he was a brutal ass. Just not to her. Even so, she was smart enough to erect her mental walls of protection. He tried to keep his seriousness under wraps, maintaining as friendly a stance as he could. But he was as nervous as she was. All mixed-bloods had a tendency to get very physical, especially since they weren’t allowed to mate. Unfortunate for the beautiful Amy, Rave had to take her to their worst offender, a mixed-blood that had nearly killed a female just last week while trying to fuck her. His men were supposed to be inside the chamber with her, but the offender had fooled security repeatedly, making them complacent on their watch, since they thought he was in the beginnings of playing civilized.
Wrong on all accounts.
Now, Rave had to take time out of his busy schedule to sit in on feedings, especially with the specific devil awaiting this whip of a woman. “I know you don’t want to hear this, sweetheart.”
“No.”
“You’re a helpless victim if you see yourself that way.”
“You’ve treated me badly. What other way is there to see myself?”
She had him there. Most immortals never saw the point in avoiding the unavoidable, and he was no different, so he pulled her in his arms and started for the feeding chamber. “Please be as still as possible, sweetheart. Then, perhaps, he won’t get so excited.”
They entered the next chamber quickly. He didn’t want her to feel as if this were her death march, her hour of doom. So he placed buds in her ears and a soft scarf around her eyes, and then he turned on romantic music most women her age liked to hear. The alternate snarls and slurps wouldn’t help her relax around
him
, and Rave refused to subject her to more than necessary. Did it wipe the blood off his hands? Nope. But for some reason, it made him feel somewhat generous.
“Adam,” Rave approached the vampire mixed-blood cautiously. Not because he couldn’t take him out, but due to the fact gentle Amy was tucked into his side. He held his arm over her outer ear and pushed her against his ribcage, effectually ensuring the music was the only thing she heard. “We’re starting fresh this day.” Adam’s eyes widened as he took in Amy. He reached for her, but Rave pulled back. “I can’t let you have free reign with the females. Look how tiny she is. Consider how powerful you are. Drink from her until your hunger is sated, but not your desire. If you must, use your palm while you feed. Do we have an understanding? These sweetings are a rarity. If you were to kill one, I wouldn’t be able to mist out and find another easily, if at all.”
Adam blew out an infuriated breath, somewhere between starvation and reluctant submission. “Give her to me.”
Rave pulled her up and placed her in Adam's brawny arms. He was a big one. Bred from a bloodline, which boasted gladiator-style aliens who played blood sports and overpowered inferior populations in another era, a bloodline Rave bred above all. Power spoke where many refused to listen. It made its way generation after generation, molding those around it to evolve with its parasitic fashion and determined leadership. This was exactly what Rave expected out of his efforts.
Power was his weapon.
Rave ignored Amy’s whimpering and watched Adam carefully. “If you want me to spend every day watching you feed and jackoff, then harm her. Harm a single hair on her precious head and you’ll never have the life you desire, the one I want to give you someday.”
Adam sat down, tucking Amy inside his arms, cocooning her with a semblance of reassurance he had no right to offer. But it was a start. Rave sensed Adam’s Species emerging, hungering with need and excitement, deepening within its own will as he struggled not to overpower her with his growing body. Adam’s fangs lengthened, dripping with aphrodisiac-laced endorphins Amy’s body wouldn’t be able to resist, even though her mind shouted otherwise. And the guilt that sprang after she climaxed in her captors arms wouldn’t make her feel any better, but it would come.
Donors always came.
Rave watched with clinical detachment as Adam sank his teeth in her flesh. She struggled longer than he anticipated, before settling back and deciding her resistance wasn’t worth a torn-out throat. Adam groaned around her, swallowing greedily at first, and then slowing into a languid rhythm that mocked the way humans made love. As she became pliant, he swallowed more. Instead of seeking her acquiescence, he quickly reached between her legs and trailed his long, thick fingers inside her panties. But Adam had known all along he didn’t need her acceptance, not when she was so heavily drugged from his bite.
Her legs fell open.
For the simple reason, she couldn’t turn away.
No matter how much Amy hated the thought of Adam. She shuddered fiercely by his hand, because her vampire possessed her. All for Adam’s merciless need, the unwilling female became the willing in seconds. He sat drugged on her blood while she sat drugged on his endorphins, an amazing, never-ending cycle that worked in Rave’s favor, just as he’d planned from the beginning.
Nothing stood between the delicious Donor and the mixed-blood’s brutal need except Rave.
This was Rave’s world to command.
A job he did brilliantly.
A simple word left his lips, “Stop.”
Surprisingly, this time, Adam obeyed.
Unfortunate for the Adam, Rave discovered his new, and possibly only, weakness. And like the rest, he would always be his to command.
W
hen Blythe came to, she realized from the dashboard clock that fifteen minutes had passed. Even though her head felt clouded, she hadn’t forgotten their conversation. “Safer with you…how? Why?” She heard the catch in her breath and felt a lump of pure fear forming in her throat. She remembered fangs. What were with the fangs? “Six, answer me!”
“Blythe, tonight a stranger easily captured you and held you in a running car.” He shook his head determinedly. “That will never happen again,” he said with conviction. “I won’t allow
anyone
to harm you.”
“H-he was doing that for you,” she stammered, “for all this stupid bullshit you’re doing right now.”
“I had nothing to do with it,” he said while shifting gears. Looking in the rearview mirror and all around, he acted as though hell was fast on their heels when they parked inside a darkened garage.
She recognized a restored corvette parked next to them. “You really brought me here. I didn’t know you still owned it.”
“How could I sell our home, angel?”
“Oh, God.” She looked around in the darkness, feeling her mouth gape. “I don’t want to be here.”
“You will after you relax,” he said while pulling her out of the car and scooping her in his arms. He kicked the car door shut, leaving a huge dent.
“You dented that on purpose?”
“Afraid so.” He gave her a crooked grin.
Obviously, it really wasn’t his car. “I don’t want to be here,” she repeated childishly. If she could just get down and walk, she would get away. Her thoughts bounced back to the guy that had forced her inside his car outside of the club. “What did you do to that man who took me? Wait, you called each other brother.”
“You
do
have a strong will, angel. I’m surprised you remember after that sweet nap you took.” He held her firmly. One arm under her thighs, a little too close to her bottom, and the other curved around her shoulders. “By the way,” he said, evading her question, “you still snore. I guess it’s a good thing I sleep like the dead.”
They were inside. A wrenching heartbeat stunned her. She was inadvertently going back in time, taking those steps she’d forgone years ago. He was carrying her over the threshold. The way he would have if they married. Blythe didn’t miss the determined edge to his jaw, understanding Sixten tallied this moment as a significant change in their mutual direction. “I’m not sleeping with you,” she claimed resolutely.
“Yes, you are.”
“I’m going back to my apartment.”
“As God as my witness,” he growled dramatically, carrying her like an angry
Rhett Butler
on steroids up a back staircase which led from the kitchen to the master suite, “if you even step foot near that building again, I will burn the entire thing down with Ryan and that fucker, Sven, inside.” He smiled tightly while negotiating the upper landing. “Have I made myself perfectly clear?”
“As clear as any asshole can be.” Two more rooms and they stopped. Where did the fangs disappear? She managed to lift a shaky hand and push her index finger inside his mouth to inspect it. He stopped her with his tongue, forcefully sucking until her finger touched the back of his throat. A languid pulsation rolled over her flesh, fast and sure, until she thought she was going to climax in his arms.
What the hell?
Her nap…she must’ve been dreaming about the fangs. “Whatever you’re doing, stop it.” Her legs wobbled when he lowered her to the bathroom tile. He released her finger with an audible pop.
“Why play coy? Step off your high horse. We’re adults with needs and wants. We both know that I’m not doing anything you don’t
want
.” He smiled like the devil and licked his lips.
He stared down at her with the same, mesmerizing ice-green eyes that had watched her thrash with her first orgasm. She may have given him her virginity, but she was fighting to keep her pride. “What’s really going on? Tell me.” The tile was cold under her feet and she realized, somewhere along the way, he had removed her shoes. “Six, seriously, you’ve got to give me some answers. It’s my life.” She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and she looked rough.
“Instead, we could talk about that rockin’ orgasm you had in the alley. By the way, that’s the slightest taste of what’s to come.” He curled his hand around her nape and lapped her throat like a cat. “Oh, the things we’re going to do together, Blythe. So many configurations and so little time,” he murmured against her collarbone, while herding her near the wall.
“Yeah, well, that bout of exhibitionism in the alley doesn’t mean squat. I was just horny, and you were there.” She tried to ease away. “I haven’t changed my mind in all these years, and I’m not giving in tonight, Sixten.” Nothing was right about this, and by his stance, he wasn’t anywhere close to backing down. He was weirder than usual. Violence mixed with heady sexuality.
“Unacceptable.”
“I’ve grown up.” He was a hottie, a hottie who wanted her.
Why do I have to be
unforgiving?
Her eyes narrowed to his major swell calling her name from behind his fly. She said weakly, “I see things more clearly now.”
“Good. Then you’ll enjoy seeing me naked.” He pulled off his jacket and gradually eased his shirt over his head. Yeah, he was taking his time, a striptease to whet her appetite. But who said there was harm in looking?
More than that, who could turn away from perfection?
Sun bronzed skin and heaving muscles defined a too-good-to-be-true physique. His waist tensed and relaxed as he kicked off his boots. She followed the stark tendons in his forearm, the veins running under his skin, connecting bulging flesh to bulging flesh in a bodily roadmap she wanted to follow with her tongue. Had she ever been this horny? She knew what it was like to be under those arms, underneath that fearsome body.
And so did her matron of honor.
She snapped out of it and made a dash for the door, but he was leaning against it before she reached the knob. “How?” She felt peculiar, warm prickles touch her skin, flicking her entire body with flaming licks. Relaxing her. And she knew she should be leaving, or running…and someone else was after her. Wasn’t he? No, maybe not. Her stomach clenched, but not from fear.
“I’m faster than you are.” He loosened his belt, leisurely pulling it through, loop by loop. Without taking his eyes from hers, he slipped his hand inside his pants, giving himself a slow squeeze before deliberately sliding it out. “Get naked, or do you still prefer to be undressed with my teeth?”
She dropped the f bomb, but not in protest.
His lip curled. “You’re talking nasty to me? Delicious. What other changes are in store?” He flattened his palm on her sternum. “You’re definitely curvier than when you were eighteen. I can’t wait to sink into those.” His middle finger traced her cleavage.
She heard the Jacuzzi start up, and then he cleverly traded places with her. Sixten stretched her hands over her head, holding her wrists with one determined hand. A kiss hit her lips accompanied by a warm tongue pushing through her mouth until she opened wide. His rippling, oversized body thrust against hers. Rocking her pelvis with a primitive dance no normal woman could refuse and stay sane.
His kiss demanded everything, ruthlessly burrowing until it reached her soul, pulled it out by his teeth and devoured her humanity. His strong fingers caressed her curves, sinking into the flesh of her bottom. Releasing her wrists, he lifted her higher, sliding her up the wall until he had the back of her knees over his shoulders. His tawny hair tickled her thighs and his breath warmed her center.
“Ah, moja láska, I can’t wait to be inside you.” She heard a small ripping sound – her panties, right before his tongue struck. Hot, long, languid, strokes torched her then cooled her. Torched her then cooled her. Repeatedly. He didn’t tire and she spurred him on. One after the other, wicked laps brought her higher and higher until his incessant mouth, the one that just stole her soul, transformed her into a nascent, snarling animal. She fisted her hands in his hair and he speared her with his tongue, rousing her with the most intimate of kisses.
Maybe, at some point, she thought to pull him away, but she forgot why. “You taste like mine,” he spoke inside her, blowing heat deep within her body until trickling moisture turned into torrents. “Ah, Blythe” – he pulled his head back and his lips glistened with her response to him – “for so long, I’ve dreamed of tasting you again. And now that I have, I don’t know how I’ve made it without you.” Stubble abraded her plumped flesh when he spoke; his scratchy chin was her new sex toy. “I really don’t.”