Vampire Mistress

In contrast, the water heaved with their motion, steam and fragrant soap and musky sex smell rising from the agitation. Her growl became an outright snarl. Her gaze locked on Gideon and she bared her fangs.

Fledgling or not, he never saw her move. One moment her face was a couple feet away. The next, her heated breath was feathering his bare shoulder, and he was staring into her fully red eyes where she'd come to a stop, inches from reaching his throat.

He would have been out of the tub in a heartbeat, if not for the fact Daegan moved faster than even that.

He yanked her back against his chest, locking a hand around her throat as she struggled, yowled.

Admirably, the vampire continued to stroke inside her, letting Gideon feel the contracting friction in her cunt that encouraged him to keep moving inside her.

“He's mine,” she snarled. Though she tried to twist her head around and snap at her captor, Daegan held her fast.

“No. Not unless he consents.” Daegan's gaze met Gideon's. “Stay inside her. Bring her to completion. Help her.”

It was the last that summoned him back into the moment. Looking past her distress, he saw the maelstrom of need and desire fighting with the vampire blood inside of her. At Daegan's barked command, Gideon understood. He began to pump into her again, being less careful now, meeting her need for animal lust. Putting his now-free hand down below the waterline, he teased her clit again, transforming the bloodlust in her gaze to something different, a sensual focus. She writhed and squirmed, but Daegan held her fast.

“Let us give you pleasure,cher , just as you demanded. We are following your desires. Just let us give this to you . . .”

Gideon's own control was flagging, and from the rough note in Daegan's voice, he thought the same was true for the vampire. Whether base male instinct or not, having her pinioned in between them, so desperately craving what they could give her, brought renewed lust surging forth.

“Wear her out,” Daegan growled. “Make her come hard, Gideon. Take her far past this.” Gideon thrust, working his fingers over her swollen clit, using everything he knew about a woman's body, her pleasure. He was rewarded, watching that vampire ferocity turn back into a woman's passion, a needy woman who cried out at every stroke, whose eyes glazed and hand at last gripped Daegan's forearm, her other flailing until Gideon caught it, held it against his thundering heartbeat. Her fingers curled, vulnerable and needy, into his chest hair, and then he felt victory at the telltale ripples along his length.

Daegan chose that moment to skillfully renew the energy of his thrusts. Her cry of release became a scream. Her fluids flooded over Gideon like a hot spring he could feel, despite the heat of the surrounding water. But then such rational thoughts were lost in his own release, his cock pumping hard jets into her, bathing her cervix as Daegan filled her with his seed from behind. The vampire's face was pressed into the side of hers, his grip locked hard and fast on her delicate neck.

It wasn't until Gideon finished and found his brain, minutes later, that he realized something else.

Sometime during their climactic finale, their three sets of hands had come back together, fingers tangling anew. Glimpsing it through his post-climactic haze, he sensed those clasped hands had forged more than a temporal bond. They had the disturbing weight of a life-altering oath.

10

HER surge of vampire transition energy ebbed again, dying away with the aftershocks, until she was lying limp between them. Now she was tracing Daegan's knuckles with her slim fingers, her face turned into his neck. Her other hand slid in a drifting rhythm up and down Gideon's biceps. Gideon could still feel the thump of the blood where they were all joined, and though he was loath to end that bond, he could tell they needed to get her to a bed. The men slid free as she made a quiet sound of protest, but her head lifted, her eyes opening to focus on Gideon's face.

“Bet this was more of a session than you bargained for.” Her voice was little more than a weak whisper.

Reaching out, he tugged a lock of wet sable hair.

“I'll be sure and put in a complaint to management. Or send her a giant bouquet of roses.”

“Men.” She closed her eyes, her face so weary that Gideon's chest ached. “You think everything can be solved by rose petals and chocolate.”

“Well, they never hurt.”

“No. They don't hurt.” Her lids tightened, her mouth becoming a hard line; then she opened her eyes and began to struggle to get up. “I need to get out. Dry my hair. Have a few minutes to myself. Then we'll decide what comes next.”

“Of course,cher .” Daegan's voice was neutral. Nodding at Gideon, they both helped her to her feet.

Maneuvering her out of the tub, they brought her safely to her vanity with a couple towels wrapped around her. As they did, Gideon noted that, whereas she'd seemed so eager for their touch moments before, now her skin shuddered with every casual contact.

He took an extra pair of towels from the shelf and tossed one to Daegan, wrapping his own around his hips and tucking it in. Daegan held on to his, but, far less concerned with his modesty, knelt in front of her. He rested a hand on her knee, despite her attempt to pull it out of his reach.

“We will be just outside,cher . When you are ready to come out, call and we will help you.” She nodded. Daegan didn't move, however, even as she turned away from him toward the mirror.

Gideon understood why when she made a startled noise in her throat. Reaching out, she touched the glass with trembling fingers. Seeing himself through her reflected image, her stricken face, his heart ached in his chest like a weight. Vampires couldn't be seen in a mirror's reflection, just as the lore said, but he hadn't known that a vampire in transition appeared as a ghost, a transparent image in the glass. He guessed it would keep fading, more and more, until it was gone. She'd never see her own image again after that, unless she had an old picture or someone painted her portrait.

Daegan reached out to close his hand over hers, but she drew it back to her, shook her head. “Please don't touch me right now.”

Tucking her chin down, she let her hair slide forward to cover her face. “He wanted to see fear. I hope I didn't give it to him. I tried not to give them anything. I fought, Daegan. Idid fight.”

“I know you did. I saw their flesh under your fingernails.” Daegan straightened behind her, and Gideon saw his powerful hands close, an obvious struggle not to touch her. When he spoke again, his voice had a harsh note. “You call,cher . If you need anything. I will respect your privacy, but I can hear you.” Her jaw tightened. “Afraid I might decide to end it?”

“No. I know you are too strong for that. Too strong. You don't call for help when you need it. They were here earlier tonight. James told me. You should have called me then. Could have done so instantly, if you'd ever . . .”

Anwyn jerked her gaze up to him, sparks in her eyes. The vampire stopped, his lips pressed together hard.

“Daegan.” Gideon spoke quietly. “Whatever this is, it's not the time.” The other male's attention flickered to him dangerously, but after an apparent fierce internal battle, he inclined his head. Despite her stiff posture, he brushed a hand against Anwyn's shoulder. “Right outside, cher .”

She didn't acknowledge either of them further. Merely sat there, staring at her translucent image. Daegan looked as if he swallowed several creative oaths, and Gideon agreed entirely. But after they left the room and closed the door, Daegan jerked his head, indicating Gideon should follow him. He took him into the small TV and reading room off of the main sitting room, complete with two comfortable chairs and more shelves of books, as well as a portable furnace that emulated a flickering fire.

It wasn't overly made up with female things, Gideon noticed, an indication that perhaps she was used to sharing her space with a male, or that Anwyn just had sparse taste in her decorating, choosing only the essential comforts. There was a Waterhouse on the wall, though.A Mermaid . The vintage look of the female mermaid, sitting amid lily pads, stroking her own hair, was oddly reminiscent of Anwyn, her unfathomable expression and yet intriguing, lush feminine appeal. Since he didn't see Anwyn as especially narcissistic, he assumed Daegan had bought it, for exactly that reason.

“You will stay here with her while I go obtain the sire's blood.” Gideon turned from the painting. If he'd had his jeans and weapons on, he might have caught his thumbs in his belt loops and taken a hip-cocked aggressive stance that would tell Daegan Rei exactly how he responded to orders. Of course, wearing a towel made that a bit harder, but he still gave Daegan an eat-shit-and-die look. “Last time I checked, I don't answer to a bloodsucker.” As Daegan's expression hardened, Gideon raised a brow. “You can throw down with me if you want, but a lot nastier things than you have tried to make me afraid of them. Think that's what she wants right now, you and me tearing into each other?”

“You're not listening.”

“No, you're not being straight with me. Maybe if you do that, instead of trying to order me around, which will happen when hell freezes over twice on your ass, then we can figure out our best game plan.” Daegan snarled. It was aggressive frustration, not an immediate threat, but it was still impressive. If Gideon gave enough of a shit to be scared of vamps anymore.

The vampire closed his eyes. “Put your clothes on. I feel like we're in a fucking Roman bathhouse.” Gideon shrugged, returning to the living area to retrieve the pile of clothes and weapons he'd left there when their remarkable interlude in the tub had begun. He waited to drop the towel until Daegan strode away from him, disappearing down one of the wide hallways. Since he heard a closet opening and closing, he assumed the vamp had gone to another bedroom. So she and Daegan didn't always share a room. Though the fact he had one here was uncomfortably significant.

Third wheel, anyone?

Gideon pushed the ugly, useless feeling away, and finished zipping and fastening his jeans, threading the belt through the loops. When Daegan returned, he was wearing a pair of dark jeans, dark rubber-soled shoes and a close-fitting long-sleeved shirt. He was going hunting, shrugging into another duster, under which Gideon was sure he would stash a variety of weapons. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">