Raj glanced at Raphael who gave a minute shrug and then nodded. Raj signaled over his shoulder to Danny, who reached under the bar and hit the controls, causing the wall of smoky glass to slide down into a pocket beneath the floor.
The music and noise crashed in on them, along with the smell of marijuana, human sweat and cologne. The lounge was in full swing, the humans intoxicated by more than just the free-flowing alcohol. These VIP rooms existed in every one of Raj's clubs for one purpose only, and that was blood. Like the blood houses maintained by Krystof in Buffalo, or by Raphael in L.A., the VIP lounges brought together hungry vampires and their willing human donors who offered blood from the vein in exchange for a mind-blowing sexual experience and the illusion of dancing with death itself. Every human who walked through those double doors signed a legal waiver and release, and the whole thing was captured on security video as proof of willing participation, should it ever come to that. As recently as a hundred years ago, the vampires simply took what they needed. Now, they had lawyers and forms in triplicate, just like everyone else.
By this time of night, or morning, all pretense dropped. Vampire and human were coming together in shadowed corners, on the dance floor, or if a couple preferred privacy, in one of several private rooms in the back. The scent of arousal was everywhere, along with the powerful and seductive influence of several dozen vampires on the hunt. Raj inhaled deeply and cast his eye on sweet, little Sarah.
Sarah watched Raphael twirl a laughing Cyn out onto the floor. They disappeared almost instantly in the crowd, as if they'd somehow pulled a curtain of shadow around themselves. She frowned, trying to see, but it was dark out there, the lights seeming to shift almost constantly making it difficult to focus on any one thing. She caught a brief glimpse of a couple on one of the leather couches and blinked in surprise. Maybe there was a good reason the lights were so low. She blushed and looked away quickly, only to find Raj staring at her from across the room. Her eyes widened and her heart raced, and she suddenly felt like a bunny beneath the gaze of something fierce and hungry and fully capable of swallowing her whole.
Raj smiled that slow, lazy grin and started toward her with the loose hipped prowl of a born predator, his eyes, the gleaming blue of a deep glacier, pinning her in place. He held out his hand as he drew closer. “Come, little one. Dance with me."
Every nerve in her body trilled with excitement and screamed, Yes! But she scowled at him irritably. Little one? Not in this lifetime. “My name is Sarah,” she corrected firmly.
Raj laughed, warm and sexy and full of intimate knowledge, as if they'd been lovers for years. “Very well,” he agreed. He took her hand and pulled her from the high bar stool, an arm circling her waist when she would have stumbled at the sudden movement. “Dance with me, little Sarah,” he whispered against her ear.
Sarah shivered involuntarily. She knew she should say, No. He was an arrogant bastard who thought that charming grin could get him any woman he wanted. She knew she should thank him nicely, climb back onto that ridiculous bar stool and get drunk on expensive champagne, but before her brain could formulate the words, her body decided for her, leaning into him as he led her toward the other room.
The music changed as they neared the dance floor, becoming soft and sensuous, slow and delicious. Sarah was swept into Raj's embrace, feeling small and delicate against his broad, muscled chest, circled by his strong arms. Even with her heels, she didn't come up to his shoulder, but he didn't slouch like some men did, or pick her up bodily and drag her around the dance floor either. He took the fingers of her right hand, curled them into his left and held them close to his heart, then dropped his other hand low on her back, his fingers drifting a little bit lower still. He exerted the slightest pressure and their bodies were touching, her br**sts against his chest, his h*ps against her belly. Sarah looked up as they moved out among the other couples and met those beautiful blue eyes.
"Put your arm around me, little one,” he murmured. “Dance with me."
Sarah narrowed her eyes at the endearment, but slid her left hand over his impossibly broad chest, before letting it curl around his waist.
"There you go.” He bent his head closer and began to sway gently to the music. “You smell delicious,” he whispered.
She smiled at the blatant double entendre and found herself relaxing, truly relaxing, for the first time in months, maybe even years. She closed her eyes, letting her head rest against his deep chest, letting the flow of his even breathing lull her gently, the steady rhythm of his heart beating beneath her ear.
They moved easily through the densely packed dance floor, circling around until they were nearly hidden in the dark recesses of an empty alcove, the soft velvet of a black curtain against the back wall, drinking in and absorbing the dim light from the crowded lounge.
Sarah felt Raj's hand slide lower until it rested on the swell of her ass, felt his fingers press harder until there wasn't even the smallest space between them. She felt his breath against her skin as he bent his head to kiss her temple, the wet warmth of his tongue as it teased the curve of her ear. She shivered as he kissed the sensitive skin below her ear, tracing the line of her jugular until he stopped and sucked gently, not breaking the skin, just gliding his tongue in a circle as if marking the spot.
She could feel the smooth brush of his fangs against her neck, the hard length of his c*ck against her belly. She raised her arms, wrapping them under his shoulders and around his back, pressing herself closer, rubbing herself against his arousal. Raj chuckled softly. “So eager, little one."
Sarah heard herself moan softly, a sound so full of sensual hunger she couldn't believe it had come from her own throat. Raj responded, growling as he lifted her easily, spinning her around and pinning her against the wall. His hand slipped beneath the silk of her dress, pushing it up her thigh and over her hip. Her arms circling his neck once again, she hooked her bare leg around his hip and urged him closer, wanting to feel him between her legs. Raj lifted her leg higher across his back, sliding his hand under her thigh and into the wetness between her legs, pushing aside the soaked triangle of her silken thong.
Sarah cried out as his thick fingers slid easily into her slick folds, penetrating deep inside her, stretching her, preparing her for the full thickness of the c*ck she could feel growing ever harder, ever longer . . .
"Sarah?"
Sarah blinked . . . and froze, suddenly terrified. Wondering where—
"Sarah?” Raj repeated, his fingers lifting her chin gently.
She blushed hotly and stepped back, putting space between them, feeling the heat of her own arousal, the wetness between her legs. Anger flashed through her and she glared up at him.
"Are you all right?” he asked solicitously.
She drew a deep breath, certain he'd done something to her, but he seemed truly concerned, and she didn't want to embarrass herself by accusing him of . . . She swallowed hard, trying desperately to forget the feeling of his mouth, his . . . Oh God, they weren't in some hidden alcove. They were still on the dance floor. Had that all been her head? “It's probably jet lag,” she said weakly.
"Come on,” he persisted. “I think you need to sit down.” He took her hand in his strong fingers, and she felt a renewed flush of desire, remembering exactly what those fingers had felt like between . . . her legs were shaking when Raj lifted her onto the bar stool.
"Here you go,” he said, handing her the tall champagne flute. “Take a sip, you'll feel better."
Better? Was he mad? If she felt any better, she'd be a puddle of needy goo on the floor! “Thank you,” she said, took a small sip and closed her eyes, feeling the bubbles tickle all the way down her throat.
"Tell me where we were,” he murmured against her ear. “What we were doing."
Her eyes shot open and then narrowed suspiciously. “I don't know what you mean."
"Yes, you do.” He smiled teasingly. “You whispered my name."