Damned by Blood Part 17

Alya wanted an answer to her question first.

"I'll think about it." Mikhail never did anything without thinking. A lot.

"I'm serious." She leaned over to kiss him. At first he just accepted the kiss, his lips molding under hers. Neither of them made any move to part. The kiss continued, his mouth hardened and he grabbed the back of her neck. His strong fingers were encased in a fine leather glove. The world t.i.tled at a crazy angle, and she started sliding down, down, down...

Back down the rabbit hole.

Eavesdropping, he said, "I like getting lost."

Alya smiled into the kiss then nibbled his lower lip, but he found his self-control and pushed away. "Go. You might lose him."

When she hesitated, he pressed his lips to the back of her hand. It was the gentlest of dismissals. "Go."

Too hungry to argue anymore, she dropped noiselessly from the tree and took off after her prey. In the dark, and at the speed she moved, humans would perceive her as nothing more than a shadow, a trick of the eye.

She tailed him until he pa.s.sed a promising clump of shrubbery. The cla.s.sy thing to do would be to talk to him, fascinate him into joining her in the shrubbery, but she didn't feel like being gentle. Instead she ran straight at him and tackled him, driving him straight through the shrubs to the hidden ground behind. He fought for half a second, until she captured his will. Hidden by the darkness, she drank deep, rubbing herself against his knee. She was so accustomed to combining s.e.x and feeding, she could hardly separate the two. Mikhail might be a pristine hunter, but feeding turned her on like a light bulb.

Still, she didn't violate the man too much, just indulged in a little surrept.i.tious frottage. Nothing worse than he might get on a crowded subway. When she was done, she carried him to a park bench to recover.

Despite his general disdain for humans, Mikhail protected the humans in his territory more vigorously than any prince she'd ever met. He enforced strict rules of vampire/human conduct, and driving a victim through a shrubbery and draining him into unconsciousness while dry humping him broke a few of those rules. Feeling guilty, she lingered in the shadows to make sure her lumberjack was okay. He'd remember nothing of the attack, only wonder how he'd gotten dirt and twigs all over his clothes. But if she'd taken too much blood, he might not wake up anytime soon, and end up mugged or arrested, or both. That wouldn't be very nice.

Bored-and h.o.r.n.y-she reached for Mikhail's mind and learned he was just finishing up a light feed nearby.

Her victim slouched to one side. She righted him, holding him in place for a few seconds to make sure he balanced. When she let him go, his head fell backward and he began to snore.

s.h.i.t. She tapped his cheek to see if she could wake him. "h.e.l.lo? Excuse me?"

"Did you enjoy taking him down rough?"

Mikhail. Nearby. She swung around, searching for him. His position was shifting, his mind closed. He was f.u.c.king with her. Stalking her. She spun, spotting him out of the corner of her eye, then losing him again. Gooseflesh broke out on her outstretched arms. Her new boots cleared a circle in the fallen leaves as she turned around and around, trying to pinpoint his location.

"You know I'm not housebroken."

"How would you like to be taken down like that?"

The threat made her pulse jump. "I'd like to see you try, pretty boy."

"Christmas."

"What?" The question lingered around her lips as a puff of white fog. The temperature was dropping fast. She whipped her head around, certain he was closing.

"We'll split the year, just as you say, but I want to spend Christmas here."

Alya blinked in surprise. "Of cour-"

He tackled her from the side. They ploughed through the shrub border and hit the ground. She landed fighting, but he had an advantage-a plan. In a few moves he had her pinned down, her arm twisted behind her back.

He flipped her skirt up and circled his hand over her a.s.s. "You know my word is law in this park. You have to be punished for breaking the rules."

"You're going to pay for this," she said, spitting out a dry leaf.

"How?" He slipped his hand between her legs, his harsh breaths rasping in her ear. She knew she was burning hot. That she'd been wet for him since that kiss in the tree. "Tell me how I'm going to pay for this."

She knew he was serious. He wanted to know what she'd do to him later. It would make him all the wilder now. She named her best weapon, the toy that fascinated and appalled him most. "You've yet to meet my strap-on. You know I'll..." His hand cupped her. All her thoughts scattered. She couldn't threaten anymore. Only want. "I'll...I'll..."

"Tell me." With one tug he ripped the crotch out of her brand new tights.

"Hey, I just"

He crammed something in her mouth. Leather. One of his gloves. Her first response was to stiffen with anger, but he shoved her thong aside and pressed his fingers inside her. Her deep muscles throbbed around his fingers, welcoming the invasion. She bit down on the glove, shuddering, already perilously close to o.r.g.a.s.m.

"Why are you so wet? Were you thinking about f.u.c.king that human?" Mikhail slid his fingers back and forth, stroking her inner walls. "Did you rub against him? Did you put your hand on his c.o.c.k?"

Mikhail had never been so aggressive with her. It had been a very long time since she'd let anyone treat her like this. But she realized she trusted him enough to let him play rough. The realization washed over her, bringing with it a profound sense of relief.

I'm safe.

He withdrew his fingers, leaving her empty and aching. Still he kept her arm pinned with one hand. She could hear his harsh breathing, feel the hot, insistent weight of his c.o.c.k pressing between her cheeks. "This," he snapped. "Is this what you need?"

She moaned into the glove. "Mm hm."

"Show me."

She tilted her hips up and spread her legs wide, trembling to have him inside.

"Tell me!"

"Yes. Please."

And he was parting her flesh, pressing inside, stretching, filling, possessing her entirely-but oh so slowly. When she tried to push against him and take him faster, he twisted her arm. He wanted her to be pa.s.sive.

She recognized in him the brutal satisfaction of taking what you want, exactly how you want, and didn't begrudge him it. Instead, she found the strength to surrender, and when she did, she began to climax. The o.r.g.a.s.m lengthened and deepened with each inch of his penetration. It was all she could do to keep quiet. She knew she was losing control, and she couldn't stop it. Her eyes rolled up in her head and she began to convulse under him.

Grunting, he grabbed hold of her hips, hoisted them high and thrust into her over and over, while she hung limp in his hands, destroyed by pleasure.

"Alya!" He thrust once more and held. She shuddered in response. One last echoing spasm pa.s.sed through them-and they spun to earth in freefall.

Mikhail raised his face from Alya's shoulder. Snowflakes spangled her black hair. Her mind was quiet. Unreadable.

"Love?" he turned her over. Her eyes were unfocused. Dirt smeared her face. The wadded up glove distorted her beautiful mouth. He plucked it out and threw it aside, then drew her to his chest.

With anxious hands he swept her hair out of her face. "Where have you gone?"

Her eyelids fluttered. "Here."

"You're okay?"

"Mmm," she said, burying her face against his shoulder, radiating quiet affection, her fingers, as always, seeking out the A. He stroked her head, relieved.

At first, he'd been closely attuned to her, and he'd known how much the danger of his pursuit had excited her. But once he had her pinned down, he'd tuned her out and claimed her like a knyaz. Like all those princes had claimed her when she was young and on the run from her father.

He'd never done that before. Usually he let her lead in the bedroom, and given that freedom, she tested the limits of his body and mind. And usually that was exactly what he wanted. Sometimes he preferred to lead, and she trusted him enough to let him take control. But he'd never pushed her this far. He prayed he hadn't violated her trust.

With gentle fingers she stroked his cheek and gave him a wry smile. "I make all sorts of exceptions for you."

"I was thinking too loud."

"You're not like them. I didn't feel trapped just now. I felt...mmm."

He kissed her brow and pulled her even closer. She sighed, a wonderful, contented noise.

"But that doesn't mean you're not going to meet my strap-on when you come to LA."

He snorted. They laughed, burying their mouths in each other's coats so pa.s.sersby wouldn't hear them.

When they stopped laughing he said, "I came inside."

He had a condom in his pocket, but once he started stalking her, it hadn't crossed his mind again.

"I know." The snow was falling harder now. A few flakes clung to her lashes. In the dark he perceived her eyes as luminous grey instead of amber.

She cleared her throat, choosing to speak aloud. "I've been thinking it wouldn't be such a bad idea to get knocked up."

He wondered if she'd ever stop surprising him.

"I need an heir."

"Oh, I see. This doesn't have anything to do with Alex and Helena?"

"Me, compet.i.tive?" Grinning, she toyed with the b.u.t.tons on his coat. "No, like I said, why build an empire if it breaks into a hundred pieces when you die? I want our child to have it." She gave him a sly glance. "If you're good, I'll make an heir for you, too."

"I'm surprised by this sudden turn to the maternal."

"Well, the second kid is conditional. We'll see if I like the first one."

"I told you, I don't expect an heir."

"But I'd like you to have one." For an instant she turned sincere. "I want us to make a child together." Love shone in her eyes, so honest and unabashed it hurt. It frightened him that he could love her so much in return. Fortunately for both of them, she retreated to safer ground. "Besides, considering the genes we've got between us, I reckon it's our duty to breed super vamps and conquer the race."

"The world will tremble before us."

"Won't it?" She grinned, satisfied at the thought. But she sobered quickly and touched his cheek. "But she might turn out to be a clumsy, nearsighted little bookworm."

"And?"

"And I'll love her anyway." She spoke in a half whisper, the true weight of her decision settling in her eyes. He understood. She knew he understood. A prescient shiver pa.s.sed through him.

"It might have started tonight."

"It's a good spot for it." Alya rolled onto her stomach and pointed down the hill to a silvered pond and the stand of barren willows that framed it. He rolled over, too, and rested his chin on her shoulder. They'd first made love under those willows, long ago.

"Look at the moon's reflection on the water," she said.

"It's a perfect circle."

"You don't suppose our kid would be a dork, do you?"

Mikhail nipped her ear and she rolled away, laughing.

From the other side of the shrubbery they heard a dreadful groan, like a bear waking with a hangover. Alya's supper had finally come-to. Stealthy as ghosts, they slipped down the hill to skip stones in the pond.

About the Author.

Many author biographies claim that the author has been writing stories since she could first wrap her stubby little fingers around a crayon. Not me. All my life, I've been an artist. If I picked up a crayon or pencil, I drew a picture with it. Now I'm drawing with words and have never been happier.

Please visit me at www.eviebyrne.com, or send email to I'd love to hear from you!

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