All Souls' Night - Renee Rose Page 0,111

body and presses his face between my legs, licking my pussy until I scream out his name again. He removes whatever he’s been using to keep my legs spread from my ankles and moves my legs closed as I lie there, panting. Next, he unhooks my hands, lifts me up from the surface and then picks me up.

A moment later, I am lying on the bed. He removes the blindfold and gazes into my eyes. “Tell me you are mine, now and forever.”

I nod. “I am yours, now and forever.” I am still in the trance, so I have to do as he commands, but it doesn’t matter. I know I belong to him. I have since the moment we met.

He snaps his fingers, and I blink and then smile up at him. “I think I want to hear those words on your sweet lips without me commanding you to say them.”

I reach a hand up to his cheek and gaze up at him lovingly. “I am yours, Aaron. Yours to dominate, yours to love, yours to protect. Forever and always.”

“Always,” he murmurs as he kisses me again, and I know that he means it.

The End

Want more Midnight Does by Zara Zenia? Click here to read Her Vampire Rebel.

About the Author

Zara has lived all over the United States, ranging from Los Angeles to Chicago to New York City. She has loved meeting new people and looking at the stars while trying to get away from the bright city lights. She has loved writing ever since she was in 3rd grade, and finally decided to publish her work for a larger audience! She writes romances about steamy aliens and their strong heroines too!

Also by Zara Zenia

His Vampire Morsel

Lesli Richardson

To My growlie cuddly pet Viking, who knows exactly why.

Chapter 1

I love working the front door at Club Toxic. Especially on a Friday, the week before Halloween, when every jackass in Tucson seems to find their way through the club’s front door.

Can you hear my eyes rolling?

I’m literally old enough to be able to say I’ve seen it all and not even come close to approaching hyperbole. At Club Toxic, every damned night we’re open we get the newly twenty-one, the newly single, and the newly moved to town. The weeks leading up to Halloween only ratchet things up another notch.

Club Toxic has a very unique business model, too. Meaning we cater to a younger clientele of humans, versus middle-aged. This is a matter of practicality.

The younger humans attract vampires the most frequently, and not just because of their looks. They tend to be healthier, more resilient. Better able to bounce back from a feeding with fewer side effects.

They’re also more gullible, easier to get drunk, more easily thralled with far less effort—and risk to their minds—and are more willing to take risks, less jaded by life.

Sweeter blood.

Isn’t that what life boils down to sometimes? The search for the sweetest experiences? Excitement?

Understandably, Lucius doesn’t want a lot of people—humans, vampires, shifter, or otherwise—turning up dead around the club. That would be inconvenient. And the more often a human customer returns and is fed upon, the more risk there is of our secret being discovered.

What inevitably happens is that unless one of those humans catches the eye of a vampire in particular, they’re frequently thralled and, after a feeding or two, sent on their way with a command to never return to Club Toxic. As more of those kinds of customers fail to return, their friends tend to drift to other nightspots as well. Which is fine.

But boring.

I’m at the point in my existence where it’s nearly impossible for me to feel little more than bland disinterest in whatever life throws at me. The last time I truly felt excited about anything was in 1793, when I spent my evenings watching heads roll from a guillotine and into a basket on a scaffold in Paris.

Ahh, fun times, those. With the scent of blood and fear wafting through the air so thick that you could almost bathe in it.

Except what a shame about all that blood being so sadly wasted. I spent plenty of my nights in the prisons, drinking from the condemned and thralling them so they didn’t spend their last hours in terror. A few I took pity on and eased them out of this life sooner, denying the executioner his prize.

Tonight, it’s not long after sundown when I wheel my brilliant blue Mercedes SL550 Roadster into the private parking area behind the