His Captive Mortal A Vampire Romance - Renee Rose Page 0,25

I purr, running the tips of my fangs lightly across her skin.

“No.” She pushes with real effort.

“Shh. There’s nothing to be afraid of, sweet Aurelia. It’s just a little prick and then orgasmic ecstasy. I won’t take too much blood, and I’ll hardly leave a mark. It heals within a couple days.”

Her struggles slow, but she refuses to look at me, turning her head to the side. “Please,” she whimpers. “Please let me up.” A tear slides out of the corner of her eye, traveling across her nose.

Pain squeezes my unbeating heart. Another surprise—her genuine distress bothers me. I roll off immediately and help her to sit, lifting her to her feet beside the bed.

“Thank you,” she mutters, looking down, obviously trying to hide her watering eyes. When she lifts her gaze, she looks so vulnerable my heart twists once more. “May I please go outside?”

I love the way she asks, as if she’s finally admitting I run the show. I rise off the bed and reach for her, cupping her face and tilting it up to catch her eyes. I change the hypnotic suggestion, probing deep into her mind. When I’m done, she may only open the door during daylight if she’s made certain I’m safe first.

I break our connection reluctantly. She sways in my hold, and I stroke my thumbs over her cheekbones.

“Did you undo it?”

I nod. “What time is it?”

“Quarter til seven.” Almost dawn.

“Be back by dusk.”

To my shock, she stands on her tiptoes and gives me a peck on the lips. “Thank you.”

Once she’s gone, I sink back into the bed, letting lethargy roll over me. Her scent rises from the pillow. I still feel the press of her lips on mine. My fingers twitch, but I refuse to touch the place she kissed.

Aurelia

I seriously need to masturbate again. Why didn’t I let the vampire go to town on me? I was freaked out beyond belief at first, but having one hundred eighty pounds of muscled vampire grinding over me flipped my switch pretty quickly. And the way he murmured in my ear...

I climb into the shower and lean my forehead against the wall, pressing my fingers over my sex.

Charlie is a conundrum. My captor—and I think he likes it that way. He could do anything he wants to me. He can out-power me if he likes it that way or hypnotize me if he wants me willing, but he’s done neither. The moment he saw my tears, he released me.

I’m not even sure what made me cry. Probably just the need to let go after the terror of thinking he would drain me. But he made sense—the way he’d been going after me hadn’t been angry or violent—it was sexual. So presumably that meant he wouldn’t have killed me.

Forking vampires. So confusing. Too bad he didn’t order textbooks on vampires when he sent for the magic ones.

I continue to work my fingers over my clit, remembering the feel of his hardened bulge between my legs, the tickle of his fangs at my neck. I trigger a short, unsatisfying orgasm and have to sit down on the edge of the tub, dizzy from the hot water and the blood rushing...away from my head.

I’m not as shy this time walking into my room dressed only in the towel. Charlie’s fallen back into a deep sleep, judging from the sounds of his breathing. I study him, and a wave of déjà vu comes over me, as if I’ve seen him in my bed a hundred times before. As if I’ve known him forever but had just forgotten until now.

Weird.

After dressing and gobbling down some breakfast, I head to the door. My hand hesitates before touching the knob, but there’s no weird push on my thoughts to keep me from going outside. Charlie lifted the compulsion.

I grab a floppy hat and my gardening gloves. I double check that my bedroom door is closed completely and return to the door, opening it just enough to slip outside.

Outside smells so delicious. I breathe in the dawn and let the familiar peace I always feel when I’m out in nature settle around me. Even in winter, I crave the smell of the earth, the feel of the plants between my fingers.

My orange tree has dozens of fragrant blossoms, and the winter greens have grown bush-like. I pull weeds and cut some of the kale ready for harvest.

After an hour or two, my neighbor, Karen, comes outside to sit on her porch, lighting