Taken by a Vampire (Vampire Queen) - By Joey W. Hill Page 0,178

. . .

“Stay still,” he murmured. “Not even a twitch, my servant. Bear it, for me.”

As she shuddered hard, he nuzzled her throat, inhaled the scent of her hair. The ice began to make her flesh ache, an icy burn. The heat from her cunt was melting it. “Master,” she begged again. “Master.”

Just to say it was enough to make all of it bearable. His head lifted. Now that her second-mark eyes were more accustomed to it, she could see a bare silhouette of his face. Lifting her free hand despite his order, knowing it was okay, she feathered it through his hair, that silken layering at the temples. “You’re so handsome,” she whispered. “So unexpected.”

“All vampires are handsome. We’re tediously beautiful.”

“No. I see you . . . differently.”

She sensed him studying her face. When he put his hand back into her damp underwear, he had more ice. She jerked, whimpered. “Spread your legs wider for me, Alanna.”

The ice went inside her, his fingers guiding it deep, and staying with it, exploring her, manipulating the smooth cubes. “How am I different?”

She struggled to think. Oh, God, it was unbearable . . . and yet she never wanted it to stop, either.

“I . . . feel when I look at you. It makes you look different. Like the difference in painting a stranger, and painting . . . someone you know. Isn’t there a difference?”

She needed to stop blathering. But his fingers were doing a gentle thrust and retreat, and her hips were coming up to meet his touch. She wanted him inside her. Wished for his cock with a fervency he could hear, but would deny her as long as it pleased him to do so, for that was the sorcery of being a vampire. Of being a Master.

“Yes. Like the difference between any willing woman’s pussy, and the wet heat of yours, just for me. For my pleasure. Your heart and soul open to me like this.”

Her lips parted, head tilting back, throat offered as the waves started to hit. “Master . . .”

Come for me. His mouth settled on the pounding artery. At the moment the climax hit, he bit, sinking his fangs into her during that rush of pleasure, his fingers still working inside her.

Though he took his time on the feeding, she was still moving rhythmically against his touch, riding the aftershocks as his fingers played beneath her panties. He licked her throat, closing the wounds, but then took her hand, bringing it under his boxers.

Work me with those lovely fingers, Alanna. I want to gush over them, smell my come on your flesh.

Lost in the glorious darkness, she obeyed.

20

THEY wouldn’t reach their destination until midevening, so once full dark came, Evan told her to go up front with Niall so he could do some work in solitude. As a result, she enjoyed the winding roads up into the Tennessee hills. Niall eventually turned off on a more narrow access. It wasn’t quite as primitive as the deer paths to reach the mountain cabin, but it twisted enough to keep his attention firmly on managing the hairpin turns and grumbling about the steep grades that slowed the heavy vehicle considerably. Finally, he turned off at a parkway entrance. A carved wooden sign indicated they’d arrived at Farida Sanctuary, a private artist colony.

A half mile down the road, Niall slowed for a guard booth. The woman who stepped out of its shelter was easily six feet tall. In boots, crisp jeans and a dark golf shirt embroidered with the sanctuary name, she looked like a cross between an Amazon warrior and Native American princess. Her beautifully sculpted arm muscles and long, dark braided hair, as well as the fact that she was armed with a combat knife in a beaded and fringed scabbard, added to the dual impression. She also had a nine-millimeter in a shoulder holster.

Despite her daunting appearance and watchful expression, the moment she shined her flashlight on the driver’s side, she smiled broadly.

“Niall. Right on time.” She tucked her tongue in her cheek. “Evan must be dead.”

The Scot snorted. “No such luck. I do occasionally keep him on schedule. Guid to see ye, Mel.”

Her gaze shifted then, sharpening on Alanna. “It’s all right,” Niall said. “She can be trusted. She’s a friend in need.”

Mel nevertheless shone the flashlight over Alanna, covering her from head to toe. “Any trouble following her I need to know about?”

“Aye,” Niall said, surprising Alanna. “Nothing that’ll risk a straight-on