Authors: Samantha Leal
Without a word spoken Liam cupped Ginny face in his hands and slowly leaned in for a passionate kiss with tongues and teeth dueling it out. Liam even bared his fangs a bit and nicked Ginny’s lips, letting a few drops of blood flow freely from her pouty lips. Licking up the dripping blood Liam attacked Ginny’s mouth more intensely while at the same time reaching behind Ginny’s back to undo her bra. In one fluid movement Ginny’s bra was on the floor and her bosom was free. Her perky nipples stood at attention as Liam moved his hands across her breasts.
The sensation of Liam hands on her bare breasts was stimulating and even more so when he gave the girls a bit of a squeeze. A breathy gasp escaped Ginny’s lips as Liam moved his intense kissing and licking from Ginny’s lips down her neck and across her collarbone, making a beeline for her exposed bosom. In one fell swoop Liam captured Ginny’s nipple in his mouth, sucking ever so slightly to bring the sensitive nub to full attention. Liam didn’t want the other breast to feel left out so he continued to squeeze and stimulate it with his hands.
“Ah! Ah!” Ginny cried out as the attention to her breasts continued to turn her on. It was only a matter of moments before Ginny was wet and ready for Liam to move forward with their love making. Liam could sense Ginny’s needs and desires and moved his hands from her breasts down to her underwear and helped her wiggle her way out of the last piece of clothing she wore. Soon both of them were completely naked on the museum floor with only their discarded clothes as cushion.
Liam spread Ginny’s legs wide and settled himself in between them. Ginny nodded her head when Liam began to move into position. She wanted this and she was ready for it. Slowly Liam pushed his hard member into Ginny’s ready and wet hole. There was a slight discomfort as Liam was rather wide and long, but soon enough the pain subsided as Liam began to rock back and forth inside of her.
“AH!” Ginny felt utterly stimulated at the penetration she was receiving from Liam. She was as full and aroused as was humanly possible, certainly more so than she had ever experienced before. To say it was mind blowing would have been an understatement. Liam thrust in and out of Ginny at a rather intense pace, clearly feeling the passion himself and eager to bring it to full fruition. Ginny wrapped her arms around Liam’s strong shoulders and groaned and moaned out her love and enjoyment of the love making.
After a few more moments of lovemaking, both Liam and Ginny were at their tipping points and ready to feel their release. Ginny practically clawed at Liam’s shoulders leaving angry red marks all across his skin. Liam sought out Ginny’s neck and bared his fangs to sink deep into her neck. The pain was nearly non-existent for Ginny as Liam started to suck her blood while also continuing to thrust in and out of her at a breakneck pace. It didn’t take long from that moment for Liam to clench his muscles and shoot his seed deep into Ginny’s welcoming body. Ginny also reached her climax and orgasmed like she never had before in her life.
For several long seconds Ginny only saw the white hot passion flash across her eyes as she relaxed into Liam’s arms and rode out the feeling of pure ecstasy that came from a mind blowing climax and orgasm. Liam also rode out the high with Ginny, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Together they just sat there in pure bliss and cuddled, reveling in the afterglow of sex. Several moments passed before either one of them spoke. It was Ginny who said something first.
“Well that was freaking amazing,” it was by far an understatement, but she had to start somewhere. Liam simply chuckled, sending vibrations throughout Ginny’s body.
“I would have to agree,” he stated.
“I’ve never felt such a bond with someone before. It’s crazy how connected I feel with you.” Ginny leaned back slightly to take Liam in one more time. He had a similar expression of semi-disbelief and curiosity.
“It is uncanny,” Liam started, but shook his head as if he changed his mind on what he was going to say. Ginny yearned to ask him about it, but she desperately sought to quash out her journalist tendencies and tried to just enjoy the moment. Her resolve lasted all of three seconds before she just couldn’t help herself.
“What do you mean by that?” Ginny prodded. Liam shifted and looked somewhat uncomfortable all of the sudden. Ginny was at once intensely interested in what he had to say and growing worried about why he was acting so strangely.
“The last time I had such a strong connection with someone, it was Philippa.” Ginny knew then why he was being so odd. He was talking about his ex-girlfriend again. While it irked Ginny that he was talking about another lover, she just couldn’t stop pressing him for information.
“What ever happened to her? You talk about her so longingly.” Ginny pulled back slightly from Liam, her journalistic-self beginning to dominate the situation.
“She was my love from many centuries ago. I actually was the one to turn her into a vampire, but even that immortality couldn’t save her from the eternal sleep she now exists in.” Liam looked away as though the shame of not being able to save his love was entirely his fault. Ginny’s heart broke a little at the sight of the man before her so clearly in pain. She squashed anymore of her interview-like questions and instead chose to press herself against him in a comforting kind of way.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered softly.
“It’s not your fault.” Liam stroked her hair gently and the two of them sat quietly once more. All the while Ginny’s mind continued to work and to wonder about the man she was surely in love with. Sure there were plenty of things she still didn’t know about it, Philippa included, but he was never secretive with her and he was always open to telling her anything and everything she ever wanted to know. Liam was an open book to her and Ginny was keen to keep notes for a book of her own.
After the night in the museum Ginny went home and simply basked in her happiness. She felt comfortable saying that her life was going extremely well and she was beyond excited for where things were going to between her and Liam. At the same time she was ever so slightly worried and more than a little curious about Liam’s former lover Philippa. Ginny had purposely not asked more about her ‘eternal sleep’ but her curiosity was surely going to spike up again soon and make her question.
That night, once Ginny had come home from her magical night in the museum she wrote up another blog post. She was hesitant to put all the details in there, especially concerning the sex, but in the end she decided to bare all and put the entire story up there, sex and all. Her readers would want to know and she didn’t want to deny them the juiciest bits.
The next morning however, things blew up for Ginny. She went from having a few hundred readers to thousands. Her story was more than just popular; she was trending hardcore on nearly every social media site. It was like overnight instant celebrity status and Ginny wasn’t sure how to handle it. What was worse was wondering whether or not Liam had found out about the blog and what he would think about it. She had never stopped to think about what Liam’s reaction would be to her blog. Ginny had to see Liam right away.
Quickly Ginny punched the numbers into her phone and the sound of a dial tone filled her ears. But Liam didn’t answer, instead it went to voicemail. Ginny was conflicted about whether or not she should leave a voicemail or not when another call came ringing in. It was Liam.
“Liam?” Ginny was slightly panicked but tried to keep her voice calm.
“Ginny can you come over right away?” Liam had an odd tone to his voice which threw Ginny off.
“Of course, I can be there in less than fifteen minutes.” Ginny started to grab her stuff and head for the door.
“Good, I will see you soon then.” Liam hung up and Ginny rushed down the four flights of stairs and dashed out onto the street. An odd sense of uncertainty gripped her and made her stomach flip the entire journey from her apartment to Liam’s. Had he already found out about the blog? Was it something else entirely? Not knowing exactly what it was, was killing Ginny. The fifteen minute drive seemed like an eternity to her.
Finally the cab pulled up the familiar building and Ginny made her way through the security and onwards to Liam’s penthouse apartment. This time as she stood in front of his door the nervousness she was feeling wasn’t necessarily good. She knocked softly, still unsure of what she was about to be facing. The door opened and Liam stood there, a picture of pure chaos. It was then that Ginny realized her summons to his penthouse apartment was not in relation to the blog. There was something far greater at work here.
“Liam? What’s wrong?” Ginny moved to pull him into a comforting hug, but Liam withdrew into his apartment and Ginny, though hurt at his reaction, followed him inside. Softly she shut the door behind her and followed where Liam had disappeared to. Around the corner she saw him sitting on the couch, a bundle of nerves and perhaps even the slightest hint of fear. Now Ginny was truly worried.
“Liam, talk to me.” Ginny had never seen this man before her, he was all nerves and uncertainty and it made Ginny insanely worried and curious as to the reason why. Liam built up his courage and opened his mouth. When the words finally came out Ginny instantly wished they hadn’t.
“Philippa has awoken from her slumber.” Ginny was lucky she was close to the couch as her legs gave out from underneath her. There was so much more behind those simple words than perhaps even Ginny knew. But in that moment Ginny knew the unwavering fact that Liam’s former lover, one whom he had thought of over the course of centuries, the woman he compared to her, was awake. Ginny could have cried. How could the love they had just started to share with each other compare with a love that surpassed time itself? There was no comparison.
“I never thought this day would come, it has been so long I hardly even remembered what she looked like.” Ginny was pulled back, suddenly unsure of what Liam was trying to say. She dared not speak, hesitant to break the thought process Liam was working through.
“I know I should be with her as she wakes, but all my mind can think about it you. The love I had for Philippa should be filling me, but it’s not. The moment you walked into the door I knew why my love hadn’t come back. My heart belongs to you now.” Liam then moved his eyes from boring holes in the floor to piercing Ginny’s soul. Had he really chosen her over his love from across time?
The distance between them was suddenly closed as Liam stood from the couch and pulled Ginny into an intimate embrace and cupped her face with his hands. There was a warmth in his hands that Ginny hadn’t noticed before and in that moment she knew with all her heart that Liam had chosen her. He had chosen their new love over the centuries of love for Philippa. Ginny pulled Liam down and their lips crashed together. Their love was going to be something for the ages, Ginny was sure.
Katie Maddox
Copyright ©2016 by Katie Maddox. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic of mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Florida, 2016
“If I see one more piece of friggin’ lace, I am simply going to hurl. And hurl good.”
Standing at the center of a lavish Victorian style sitting room, Jasmin Lawrence did have to take a moment and admire her surroundings; her bespectacled gaze perusing the room’s shining wallpaper of scarlet brocade, plush ivory carpeting, and central tables doused in reams of pure white lace and topped by a lavish setting of floral print china. Overseen by the glow of brass chandeliers and the spectacle of a hand painted mural that depicted angels in flight across a gem blue sky, the room did boast a lovely, resplendent décor was meant to promote a certain air of serenity and grace.
At this moment, however, Jasmin felt about as graceful and serene as….
Well, something that’s not very graceful or serene at all,
she mused in silence with a sigh, rolling her eyes heavenward
. I am in no mood to be witty or clever. I just want to clear out of here and grab a Big Mac.
At this point, however, the only edibles in her future took the form of those Victorian era delicacies that she would not be eating herself, but instead, would be serving to patrons at Chez Victoria, the elegant Florida area tea room where she had sought gainful employment for the past year.
Each day, she pushed a silver cast food cart that came complete with piping hot scones topped by clotted cream and jam, finger sandwiches, decorative iced fancy cakes, and, of course, tea.
Lots and lots of tea.
Didn’t those pesky Victorians ever drink anything else?
she queried silently, continuing her tortured but nonetheless cathartic internal monologue before adding, as she winced in acute discomfort
, And didn’t they ever lower themselves to the wearing of clothes that were remotely—I don’t know—wearable? Or at least comfortable?
Again, she did have to admit that her work uniform—a true to life, cream colored reproduction of a classic Victorian gown—absolutely stunned with its fitted, lace-bordered floral print bodice with a matching flowing skirt and puffed, lace-lined sleeves. The soft cotton gown served to flatter and accentuate her rubenesque curves. And when she adorned her long mane of lustrous dark hair with a smooth floral print ribbon, she did indeed feel every inch a prim and proper Victorian lady.
Cha! Got them fooled!
She smirked now, rolling her eyes heavenward
. I full well realize that this gown is infinitely preferable to my last work uniform, worn during my college days while toiling away as a head bun dresser at Cal’s Coney Heaven. Sorry, but it seems rather odd to wear a polyester Coney dog costume while one actually serves Coney dogs to perplexed looking customers. It seems almost fatalistic, to a point.
Yet, no more fatalistic, she presumed, than the everyday wearing of hoop skirts, pantaloons, not to mention those ancient mummification devices known as corsets.
Sheesh, no wonder those ladies were always ‘swooning,’
she reasoned as she felt her rib cage protract. Again.
Who can breathe and function worth a darn while wearing a blasted corset?
As she continued to use her tortured inner thoughts as a surefire distraction from the painful—or, at the very least, irritable—truth of her everyday life, Jasmin struggled to remember the time when she loved and lost herself in Victorian lore; those blissful teen-aged years when she lost herself in the novels of Jane Austen, also in the numerous filmed adaptions of her timeless books.
I was bound and determined to marry Mr. Darcy, totally ignoring the three major obstacles standing in our way, she recalled now. Number one: Mr. Darcy is a total and complete fictional character, no joke. Number two: If he was not indeed a total and complete fictional character, he would be long dead by now. Number three: Mr. Darcy is already married. And Elizabeth Bennet is just tough enough to kick my heiny—though, I am certain that, with her velvet tongue, she would come up with a far more proper term for my defeated posterior than ‘heiny’.
It was, in fact, her great love for Victorian literature that had inspired her to pursue a degree in English literature at Clearview State University, the premiere—okay, so the only—collegiate institution located in her Florida hometown.
After working her way through school via a food service job, she graduated cum laude and immediately, scored a job—in food service.
So now I know the true and full meaning of the term ‘literary irony’
, she mused, heaving a deep sigh as she wheeled her cart, with sluggish slippered steps, between endless rows of lace afflicted tables.
Now instead of asking, ‘Would you like fries with that?’ I ask customers, ‘Would you like clotted cream and chutney with that?’
Her troubled meditation was disrupted by the sudden entrance of her supervisor; a tall, slender woman with distinguished silver hair and a flowing day dress of pure blue satin, adorned with lace and sleek ruffles.
Although Jessymyn O’Reilly generally had the tendency to float into a room, she, on this day, seemed to trudge a bit as she dragged a large and rather unwieldy portrait into the main dining room of Chez Victoria.
“Can I help you with that, Jessymyn?” Jasmin queried, rushing forward to grab up the right edge of the brass bordered frame that enclosed the mysterious portrait; righting the painting as she did to take a closer look at its surface.
She froze then, and gaped outright, as she beheld the image of the most beautiful man she ever had seen.
His tall muscular frame was dressed resplendent, in a long jacket of azure jacquard, a white satin shirt with a stately high collar, and tight fitting taupe pantaloons adorned with brass buttons. The subject of this portrait boasted a chiseled face featuring carved cheekbones, a cleft chin, and eyes that shone as bright and azure as the image of the bluest sky.
This face came framed with a shoulder length mane of thick ebony hair that fell free across muscled shoulders, and came adorned with a soft, subtle upturn of his full moist lips.
“Who’s the beb?” she asked Jessymyn, all the while never tearing her gaze from the captivating man captured in the frames of the ebullient oil painting.
Jessymyn let loose with an undignified snort, rolling her eyes heavenward as she considered her most unique turn of phrase.
“The beb, for your information, is Lord Nathaniel Barrett; the man who originally made his home in this very building—or, at the very least, a reasonable facsimile,” she informed her employee. Adding with a proud smile, “A local historian is writing a book about this area and he interviewed the lovely elderly couple that owns this fine establishment. And, as it turns out, the structure of this tea room is based on the floor plan of a manor house they visited while on a trip to London. They had seen the home of a stately nobleman named Nathaniel Barrett, a widower who lived the gist of his days alone and miserable in his big old house. They thought that it would be a fitting tribute to build a house, much like his, then fill it with laughter, good food, and lots of company for his lonely spirit.”
I’d be more than pleased to provide him tons of company for his lonely spirit,
Jasmin mused in silence, saying aloud, “Well that sounds like a really nice story, Jessymyn; one that we will have to share with our customers. In the meantime, let me help you hang that portrait—maybe right over the fireplace, where everyone can see it? Me, especially?”
Soon, Jasmin found herself back at work on the floor at Chez Victoria, rushing from table to table as an endless line of customers made demands on her services.
“Could we have more tea over here?”
“Could we have more scones over here?”
“Could we have more raspberry jam over here?”
Could I have a life over here?
Jasmin felt like barking in kind return—especially at the man who apparently considered it his mission in life to get just a little bit more of that blasted raspberry jam.
“Coming, Sir.” She smiled through gritted teeth at the balding old man who visited the tearoom at least once a week; and always on the days that she was on shift. Lucky her. And to make things worse, today, he seemed unwilling to await her apparently less than timely arrival at the side of his table.
“I’m a goin’ to that front counter myself and get my own raspberry jam,” he told his rather depressed looking wife, who looked as though she would rather be anywhere else, with anyone else, at this point in time.
Swinging his feet out from under his table, he stuck his leg out in front of Jasmin’s food cart, tripping up the cart’s motion and sending several pieces of priceless floral print china flying forward off the crystalline tray that lined its top.
The server’s eyes flew wide as she lunged forward in an impulsive attempt to catch the flying flatware; her feet leaving the floor as her body soared like a rocket across the surface of the cart.
The rocket crashed unceremonious seconds later, as Jasmin’s form flattened atop the cart; her head falling forward to hit the hard brass handle that lined its northern border.
“Fab-ulous,” she muttered, feeling her eyes cross in her head as her entire world went black.