His Captive Mortal A Vampire Romance - Renee Rose Page 0,10

struggle. “What are you doing?”

“Shhh,” the vampire easily presses me back into bed. He whispers more commands I don’t quite catch and traces my lips with a finger when he’s done. “Sorry, love. I hate to compel you. I wish it could be different, but there’s no time.”

“What are you talking about?” My thoughts are heavy, my voice sleepy. He’s so pretty, this vampire in my bed. I don’t know why I was panicking at all.

“You’re not quite as compliant as my usual prey,” he murmurs. “A natural defense side effect of your fae blood?” He strokes back my hair. “No matter. I enjoy a challenge.” His tone turns wistful. “It’s been so long since I’ve had one.”

“Happy to oblige,” I say with a sigh, burrowing deeper into the covers and pressing closer to the solid body next to me.

The vampire goes unnaturally still. “What are you doing?”

“Snuggling.” It’s weird snuggling with someone who’s dead. I listen for a heartbeat or breath, but hear nothing. But I’m too tired to really care. “It’s nice.”

“I’m not nice, love.” But his fingers in my hair feel so good. I murmur in pleasure as he pets me like a kitten. I get the sense that I’ve been here before, done this before, but I don’t need to think about that right now. Right now, I want to enjoy the snuggle.

Moments pass before the vampire murmurs. “I haven’t done this in a long time.”

“You’re good at it. Like riding a bike.”

“I suppose.” A long pause. “I didn’t used to be this way. Believe it or not, I had a lady love. ”

“Yeah?”

“I don't know why I’m telling you this.” His hand rests on the back of my neck. “I’ve never felt this before. A compulsion to confess.”

“What?” My eyes flutter, but I can’t open them. They’re heavy, like they’ve been cemented over.

Cool lips brush my forehead.

“Sleep. You won’t remember this tomorrow.” But his final comment follows me into my dreams. “I better be careful with you. Seems little fairies are my weakness.”

Chapter 5

Aurelia

I wake with the whisper of a dream still surrounding me. I remember nothing of it, but the magical feeling—I felt safe and loved. Not my usual state of being by any means.

I didn’t have a traumatic childhood, but I was on my own, at least emotionally, for most of my life. My mom was a single parent who struggled with making ends meet, getting ahead in a crappy career and her own dating life, which wasn’t particularly rewarding. Me and my brother were latchkey kids, and I’ve been supporting myself since the day I graduated from high school.

I keep my eyes closed, wanting to stay in the lovely feeling. Memories of the night return with a jolt—the vampire and the spanking. And the kiss. Rather than throw me out of my pleasant mindset, they fill me with a delicious sexual awareness, my entire body tingling in memory of being handled. Though my logical mind screams danger, my body has no interest in caution where that very sexy male is concerned.

My body will take any punishment he has to give and want more.

I toss one leg over a pillow, undulating my pelvis to create friction against my mound. The cushion provides exactly what I need, fitting between my legs, hard and firm. I rub myself against it, drifting in the delicious place between sleep and awakening, heat burgeoning as the hard pillow rubbed over my clit—

Hard pillow? My eyes fly open, and I choke on a gasp.

Beside me lies the vampire, grinning sleepily and reaching to cup my ass, which lies sprawled over his thigh. I was grinding on him, my folds slick and plump, dripping wet.

I yank my leg off and roll away, leaping off the bed. “What the—”

“I’m going to sleep a while longer, but you are welcome to hump me all you want,” he says in a dream-thickened voice.

“What are you doing in my bed?” I demand, but his eyes already slipped closed again. Sprawled on my mattress with his shirt off, his masculine chest and arms are as cut as a Greek statue. He lies on top of the covers, and I still wear my pajamas—that’s a good thing. He didn’t have his way with me while I slept. Although... the thought tweaks my already aroused core.

What time is it? I peer at the clock and then gasp. Four in the afternoon?

“Fork! I overslept!” And that’s not all. It doesn’t feel like dusk because my windows are boarded