Not for you tonight, little fairies.
Their fangs gleamed over pouting lips. Glowing red eyes narrowed. “Why ever not, master?”
Zayan waved his hand, irritated, and at his unspoken command they dissolved into stars again.
They lifted to the sky and flew with the bat.
Come to me, Bastien
, he willed.
The air grew still before him and darker, as though all light and life were sucked from the spot. Even the rain ceased to fall there.
Only he could see the transition from creature to man. The twisting and stretching of dark form to flesh, the shriek of pain never heard by human ears.
“You wanted me, Zayan?” Cocky and arrogant and just as he remembered him, Bastien stood before him. Naked, beautiful, and thirsting for revenge.
It took him almost no conscious thought to control a spell, and Zayan lowered the intensity of the control he held over Althea’s desires as he crooked his finger at Bastien. Tricky indeed, to leave his Trojan horse—Althea—open to just enough temptation to entice the twins, but not enough that she surrendered easily.
Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 73
Battling over innocent Althea had divided the twins, just as he’d known it would. It made them foolhardy and stupid, the way mortal men became when they fought to spill their seed in a woman.
Bastien flashed his fangs. His legs were slightly spread, body coiled in attack stance, envy and rage pouring off him. “Go to Hades.”
“Do you plan to send me there, Bastien?”
Faced with Yannick’s long, swaying cock, Althea had no idea what to do. His prick should fill her with awe, or fear, or lust, but she couldn’t help but think it looked adorable. Even in her dreams, she’d never been close enough to bestow a kiss. It stretched eagerly toward her mouth and looked rather earnest. The head was silky and taut and even possessed a beauty spot—a darker bronze-brown dot near its rim. At the very tip, clear liquid bubbled from a little eye.
So curious and amazing.
And when she glanced up at Yannick to see his expression, she giggled. He folded his arms behind his head. Excited and proud.
She traced the prominent veins with her fingertip. Her other hand rested at its hilt and encircled the shaft, though her fingers and thumb didn’t meet.
A kiss. She could start with that. And a lick. Bastien had talked of women licking his cock and his ballocks.
All she could do was try.
She braced one hand on his slim hip, stuck out her tongue and touched him.
Ooh. Silky and smooth. Flattening her tongue, she roved over the head, and tasted the tang of his fluid, sticky on her tongue. Swampy, slightly sour.
Parting her lips, summoning the courage she always believed she possessed in spades, Althea slid her mouth over him. The hot, velvety skin of his cock filled her mouth. To her surprise, she discovered he truly tasted delicious.
“God your mouth is so hot and wet,” he moaned. Warm and gentle, his hands slid along her back.
In answer to his loving caress, she cupped his ballocks. At once she understood why they called them balls. Within the soft sac, two firm eggs scurried from her touch. Cupping her palm, she held them delicately and explored the slightly reddened and bumpy skin. She toyed with the long hairs. Though he was white blond, the thick curls between his thighs were a dark gold.
She looked up. Caught Yannick staring at her, breathless agony on his handsome features.
Shy but pleased, she lowered her lashes.
“But you don’t have to take me any deeper if you don’t want—”
He broke off and another deep, rumbling moan rewarded her tentative suckling at the head.
She saw his point. How did one take more into one’s mouth? But she knew—from chattering maids, of course—that men liked to thrust deep when they made love.
Presumably he would like to be deep in her mouth.
Eyes shut tight, tense, she lowered upon him. Too far. Gagging, she lurched back.
A hand cuddled her nude bottom. “Are you all right, love? You don’t have to do this.”
Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 74
She brushed at her tears. “I think I know what I did wrong.”
“Sweetheart!” He laughed.
Then spluttered as she pursed her lips and took him in once more. Swirling with her tongue, she explored the plump curves of the head. His hips bucked as she flicked across a taut piece of skin that joined the crown to the thick shaft.
Now she felt bold. Daring. Why couldn’t she improvise? Play? Perhaps he might not be impressed or well pleasured, but she had to learn at the beginning, didn’t she?
Althea ran her tongue down the shaft and back up. Then tried the same trick with him inside her mouth. With a quick dip, she reached his curls with her lips and backed off before she could choke.
Perhaps she wasn’t so bad at this after all. He was certainly moaning.
She sucked so hard her cheeks hollowed. To tease, she let him free so he fell out with a twang. “No, no,” Yannick groaned in agony.
So she gobbled him up again.
He groaned and moaned and massaged her head. His arm was tense. She sensed he really yearned to force her to take him deeper, but was trying to fight the need.
Her quim was soaking. Pleasuring him was surprisingly arousing. She gloried in the feel of him swelling more, growing even larger and harder and straighter. She fondled his balls. She wasn’t afraid to be adventurous and she ran her hand over his firm, round buttocks. Goodness, they were rock hard. She dipped her fingers into the hot valley between his cheeks.
“Althea, sweetheart—”
He liked that, did he? She had no idea it could be such a delight to touch a man’s buttocks.
Feeling confident and naughty, she drove her fingers into his cheeks, like a cat stretching its claws, and pulled him up to her to suck him deep.
“Althea, my wicked huntress, you have to stop.”
Yannick caught hold of her chin and tried to coax her to stop. But the minx bobbed her head up and down on his throbbing cock.
It should be easy to hold on to his control, but innocent enthusiasm was more erotic than calculated skill. Sweet sounds rose from her throat, muffled by his cock. Happy little cries.
Appreciative groans. She was moaning as though he was pleasuring her. A slurpy pop resonated as she backed off too far and released him. His balls clenched at the sound.
She scrambled back and took him into her hot mouth once more.
Her hot sopping pussy rubbed and rocked against his thigh.
“No, Althea, you must stop,” he begged through clenched teeth. “I’m going to come.”
The saucy smile she gave him around his cock almost made him explode.
Sobering thoughts. He needed sobering thoughts, or he’d embarrass himself and damn well disappoint her.
Couldn’t be anything more sobering than imminent death.
Yes, think of death, sickle in hand, bony fingers tapping impatiently, waiting to finally take him.
There’d be nothing to take though. If Althea didn’t stake his heart first, he might survive to Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 75
the rise of the full moon. When, if he didn’t destroy Zayan, he’d end up as just so much dust.
With no soul to carry on either upstairs or down.
Sobering indeed, but his cock was still as rigid as a blade, as impatient as an over-shaken bottle of champagne about to lose its cork.
He was pleading now. “No, sweet. Our fun would be over then. For a while, at least.” He tugged gently at her chin. “Come up here.”
“But you made me come with your mouth. Wouldn’t you like the same?”
“You must know than men rarely have the luxury of many orgasms, angel.”
She climbed up over him. Like a cat pacing in a spot of warm sun. “You can’t…come more than once?”
“Ah, I can. Vampires can. But I fear your mouth would give me such an explosion that I’d not come to life again for a long while. We’d have to be patient and the sun might rise before I do.” He crooked his finger. “Let me taste myself on your lips, angel.”
Her sleek legs straddled his hips and he savored the sensual picture she made. Even in the dark her lush coloring was a treat to his vampiric vision. Long burgundy-red curls dangled over him, almost touching his chest. Passionate emerald eyes shielded by a thick fringe of lashes.
Moist pink lips.
He’d condemned himself to death to have her.
Damnation, it was worth it.
Althea lowered and Yannick sank his fangs into his own lower lip as her hot weight settled on his shaft.
She kissed him, openmouthed and bold. She tasted of his cock.
Now. He needed her now.
She drew back, whispered against his mouth, “I need you.”
Yes, angel. I need you now or I’m going to explode. Die. Burst.
I know
, she moaned into his thoughts.
Me too
.
With infinite care he lifted her and tumbled her so she lay beneath him. God, he was so ready.
He had to shove hard on his cock to bend it down. The sensation was excruciating pleasure.
Once he touched his tip to her bubbling entrance, he’d be lost.
He took a long, slow breath.
But in making love to her, he was going to hurt her. Should he take her now, while her lust drove her, while her need was so great? Or make her come a few times? Relaxed and sated, she might not grow anxious when he had to break her barrier. What made it easier for a virgin?
Her hips arched up to him. “Please.”
Make her come
, urged an inner voice.
You can’t go wrong making her come
.
Two bolts of light shot from Zayan’s upraised hands and smashed into his shoulders.
Bastien staggered with the force but found his footing. He clenched his jaw against the pain.
Being speared with a burning lance wouldn’t hurt so much. Hell, he knew that for a fact.
Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 76
Smoke curled up from his shoulders. He spared them a glance from the corner of his eye.
His flesh was singed black.
In front of him, across the stretch of green common, the few lights of the village wavered and danced. Dazzling blue stars swooped around, nipping at Bastien’s naked cock. He flicked them away.
He stood, unsteady, refusing to drop to his knees even as the pain surged through his bloodstream. His brain screamed with it. Over the shrieks tearing through his gray matter, he laughed. “Can you not do better than that?”
Another bolt—the two green streaks merged into brilliant red. He danced aside, but the missile followed and caught him on his left side. Below the heart but he heard his ribs snap like kindling.
His footing gave way and he couldn’t stop his plunge to the ground. One knee hit and he fought to steady himself. Goddamn, he didn’t want to bow down before Zayan.
Zayan’s large, long-fingered hands lifted again. Red light flared from them, giving a hellish glow to Zayan’s aquiline nose, the cliffs of his cheekbones, the full, firm curve of the master’s mouth. The light barely touched the deep-set black eyes. The whites glowed though, rolling in the dark to follow him.
“Nice fireworks.” Bastien shifted with care as his ribs began to knit. He felt the hum. The heat.
He knew the next blow would come low, directed at his head. For all his mocking, he wouldn’t be able to shift shape fast enough—
The bolt of green energy sizzled beneath him as he launched himself in the air. He landed hard on his feet, but his muscles took it, shuddering. Instinct sent his right hand up into the air.
He caught Zayan’s red bolt in the center of his palm. It drilled into him, shoving his arm back so hard that his shoulder separated.
He almost retched with the shock of the pain. Hades!
Though sheer will, Bastien forced his shoulder to snap back. The click vibrated through his skull.
He couldn’t fight by absorbing power. With Yannick, he could strike down Zayan. Alone, he could only struggle to survive, but after a decade imprisoned, he’d be damned if he just rolled over and let himself be scorched into oblivion.
Behind him the swooning girl lay in the dirt. Not a maiden. His heightened sense of smell caught the whiff of another man’s semen upon her. And the rich scent of her spilled blood curled up like the smoke from his wounds. Tempting him. Maddening him.
He wasn’t an animal, to be betrayed by his lowest instincts.
He focused on Zayan. Triumph burned in his maker’s black eyes. A feral smile tore apart the beautiful lips. Lips he’d kissed. Lips that had slid tight along his shaft, spurred by lust, passion, and need.
The long black hair, thick and straight, stirred about the pale, coldly handsome face.
Bastien shot a bolt of his own, directed at that smirk. Laughing, Zayan opened his lips and swallowed his power. The white throat glowed with blue light as the bolt shot down.
“Delicious.”
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sizzled, his muscles contracted, and nothing came. The first bolt had drained him too much.
Bastien tried to jump, to keep moving so he was not such an easy target. His weakened legs collapsed and he stumbled in the wet, uneven mud.
Zayan’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Your magic only feeds me.”
A hand reached around Bastien’s throat from behind, and nothing but the ancient oak stood before him. Zayan had jumped behind him before he’d even blinked. Long fingers closed tight, crushing his larynx.
He swung around. Drove his fist hard into the jaw of his maker.
Imprison me for ten bloody years—
He struck the bone with a satisfying crunch.