Dark Possession - Aja James Page 0,38
thick, silky hair.
She’d passed out into a deep, untroubled sleep practically the moment they were done, even before the last tingle had subsided from his body. He removed the rest of his clothes but allowed her to keep hers on.
He didn’t think that having her naked against him was the best course of action right now, not when he was still reeling from what just happened. And, too, he didn’t want to undress her without consent. She might not take kindly to the liberty, and he was a male of his word. They had a Contract, after all; it did not include their bodies.
Nevertheless, she seemed perfectly agreeable to take what he offered whenever the opportunity presented itself. As it did just now.
With a contented sigh, she rolled into him, tucking her face into the hollow of his throat as he gathered her in his embrace, and breathed him in with deep, lung-filling draws.
“Smell so good…taste so good…sound so sexy…can’t tell him…secret…addicted…”
As usual, she mumbled while unconscious, saying things she probably wouldn’t remember when she woke.
Her mouth worked slightly, her lips nuzzling his collar bone, as if she was seeking something. And when she found it, a particular tendon in his neck she liked to gnaw on, she grasped it between her sharp little teeth and grunted in satisfaction.
Roughly, he pulled her deeper into the fortress of his body, trapping her against the thick boulders of his pecs, the steely cage of his arms and legs.
He needed her.
He didn’t understand why, and he didn’t want to pursue this train of thought. He just knew he needed her. Even though she lay unconscious and slightly snoring in his arms, he needed her. Even if it was all a lie in his head, even if what happened between them meant nothing to her. He needed the lie to hold himself together.
Gods! It had been thousands of years…
So long since he’d come undone with another that he barely recalled what it felt like. He only remembered the pain.
His body would never forget the ravaging effects of the Decline when he released into the body of a female he loved, but who didn’t love him back.
Not ever.
Not in the three millennia that he’d remained faithful to her. Giving himself only to her. While he watched her take countless others who were not him.
His body remembered it so clearly, the never-ending days and nights of torture that followed one ephemeral moment of pleasure, that the fear of it happening again quaked through his very bones.
Even though it couldn’t happen again. For, he was a vampire now.
But he remembered…
First Cycle of the Dark Queen Ashlu, sixth millennium BC.
The fire mountain rumbled ominously, spewing ashes and debris from its volcano.
“Gods’ balls! It’s the third time this lunar cycle! Can’t you control that unnatural creature of yours?”
The well-built male currently exerting himself over Ashlu’s sweat-sheened body, thrusting with little finesse but plenty of power in and out of her cunt, cursed as the ceilings shook dust upon them both. Even as far away from the mountain as the Dark Ones’ stone fortress, they could feel the earth quaking its foundations loose.
Her “little prince” was having yet another tantrum.
She was mighty sick of it.
With a careless shove, Ashlu sent her red-cocked swain tumbling from the bed and onto the floor.
She ignored his grunts of protest as she quickly swept a diaphanous robe around her shoulders, not so much to assuage her modesty (as she had none), but to signal that their interlude of fucking was over.
“Get out,” she commanded.
He might be manner-less in bed while he was rutting upon her, but he knew better than to contradict a direct order from his queen.
Out he went, still naked and aroused, not bothering to get dressed.
Ashlu ran her hands through her long, dark hair, pulling at the scalp in frustration as more dust rained from the ceiling, and the fortress groaned ominously.
Telepathically, she summoned the Consul, who arrived posthaste a few moments later.
“Where is he?” she asked her advisor, who was tasked with always knowing the prince’s location, with his countless spying eyes in every corner of their keep.
He answered immediately, not needing to clarify whom Ashlu meant.
“In the north tower, my queen.”
“What is he going on about now?”
“I believe he is protesting your nightly…exertions, my queen.”
“He’s a fucking child! And my Blood Slave at that! What right does he have to protest anything I do?”
“Nevertheless, my queen.”
“This is getting out of hand. I don’t have the patience for this shit,”