Another puff on the cigar to revive the sandalwood taste on his tongue.
“When I saw how mighty the English had become, I sent for a barrister. His fiancée is the absolute image of Ilona. I came to find her and make her mine, for she had married the wrong brother all those years ago. Now is the time to make things right.”
“How will you do that?” Bram asked, scribbling wildly.
“Her intended is a boring sort. He didn't even resist my ladies. I am anything but tedious. I will show her passion.”
“Will you turn her?”
“Slowly. It's more pleasurable when you give a different fluid with each bite. I'm thinking of bringing her best friend along with us, so she won't be lonely when we move back to my homeland. She will love its wildness.”
Â
Â
Radu slammed the lukewarm brandy. The alcohol did nothing to haze the still-painful slice of betrayal from Stoker.
He had loved those months. Never had he experienced someone wanting to know about him. All his life, his family fawned over Mircea and Vlad, the elders. Radu had been a surprise, an afterthought. His parents sent him away, then rejected him when he returned from the Ottomans. And after Mircea died, blinded and buried alive, Vlad sat on the family's throne.
After all those centuries of being the youngest, he finally got his due.
Attention was sweeter than any blood he'd ever tasted.
Â
Â
Three months into their interviewing, Radu and Stoker walked the streets at night. “We are difficult to kill. Beheading. A stake to the heart. For some, the sun, but it does not harm me.”
Stoker nodded and puffed on his pipe. A charming if strong scent of apple tobacco momentarily overwhelmed the ripe smells of London.
“The Host?” he asked.
Radu involuntarily shuddered. “The mention of it causes me pain.”
“My apologies. I would like to clarify something you suggested earlier. Can you truly control animals, change shapes, and fog our minds?”
“We each have different talents. I can shift into a large dog. Ilona could make herself nearly invisible. My brother charmed people into thinking he sincerely wanted to help.”
The aroma of rosemary caused the hair on the back of Radu's neck to stir. That meant only one thing.
“Vlad is near,” he hissed. Speak of the devil, he thought.
His despised older brother stood in the doorway of a drinking establishment. He was dressed in black formal tailcoat and waistcoat, white shirt and bow tie and narrow trousers. His black moustache was thinner than fashion dictated, but suited his narrow face. He carried a top hat in one white gloved hand.
Radu bared his teeth. Stoker looked a little pale. Vlad placed his hat on his head and nodded with cold politeness.
“Leave London,” Radu snarled. “This is my place.”
Vlad tipped his head. “Merely passing through. Where are your manners, little brother? Introduce me to your guest.”
At least the bastard was leaving town.
Radu stood down. “Mr. Bram Stoker, may I introduce you to my older brother, Vlad Dracula?” Radu ground out through tight lips.
“A pleasure.” Vlad's lazy voice made it sound like it truly was a pleasure to meet the other man. How did Vlad always manage to seduce everyone he met?
Radu turned to Stoker and nearly hit the roof at the gleam in Bram's eyes.
“How do you do, Mr. Dracula. What a fascinating name.”
Â
Â
And then the thrice-damned writer went and named that beautiful character, based on Radu, after his cursed brother. That fucking book should have been Radu's book.
Radu should have been famous. Not Vlad. Radu should have had people yearn to be like him, not his traitorous brother.
Instead, Radu played second fiddle to his own damn legend.
It wasn't fair.
Radu threw his brandy at the sliding door, shattering the delicate crystal. Fuck the vampire murderer for ruining his night.
Mere humiliation wasn't enough for the handsome, charismatic mortal. Radu would settle for nothing less than death for the man who dared to oppose him. His chivalry would allow him to show the old woman mercy, allow her to live out her life merely disgraced and shunned.
But against men, he had no such limits on his behavior. Lance Soleil would finally die, and by Radu's own hand this time. Radu knew just how he was going to do it. The cursed bastard would be finished by sunrise tomorrow.
Chapter 27
Lance's nose sent an urgent message to his cock.
You really want to wake up now,
his cock told his brain. When a man's cock spoke, the man was wise to listen. He opened his eyes, peeled his face off his desk pad, and scrubbed his hands through his hair.
Surprise. He had fallen asleep in his office after his press conference. Today had been a brutal day.
Lance rubbed his aching breastbone and fully woke. He was alone. Again. He'd opened his home to a hardened killer, thinking he could fan that spark of hope inside of her into a blaze.
Rather, the moment she dropped Glenath with an EMT, Valerie had ditched him without a word. She'd walked away, never once turning back.
He should have known better.
Self-disgust helped mask the hurt.
His penis thumped, demanding attention.
The room smelled of a heady combination of jasmine, roses, rosemary, and hot woman.
“I see you are awake.” Valerie's voice swirled around him like melting sugar.
What in sweet God's name was she doing here? “You came back,” he said flatly. “Why?”
“You were right,” she replied. A click and his office lights came on. She walked out of the shadows.
His lover looked like a goddess of pleasure. Red ribbons crisscrossed her narrow torso, teasing him with glimpses of her pearl-colored flesh. A triple tier of black feathers draped from her hips, just barely long enough to hide the intersection of her long thighs. A single red feather dangled from a red ribbon down to her knee. It swayed as she walked to his desk.
She planted her hands on the cluttered surface and leaned forward, teasing him with a view of her breasts encased in the satin bands. Her pointed nipples pressed against the tight fabric.
“I had an epiphany,” she purred in a low, aroused voice. “Want to hear about it?”
Lance felt the corner of his mouth curl up in pleasure. “Certainly.” Later, he promised himself. Later he'd ask her where she went and what she was doing, but for now? He was not about to look a gorgeously wrapped, nearly naked gift-wrapped vampire in the mouth.
Valerie gave his rumpled appearance a languid once-over. “I'll see you after a shower.”
Â
Â
Lance rested his hands against the shower wall. The blistering hot spray hit his chest and trickled down his body. He closed his eyes and reveled in the soothing steam. When a cool mouth closed over his cock, he couldn't be blamed for his surprised yelp.
Her low evil chuckle shook his body. Valerie pushed him against the wet shower wall. The warm, hard tile against his back and butt contrasted with her wet body plastered against his chest as she sucked him like he was O-negative on legs.
He looked down to see her loosen her lips from his penis, lick her way down, down, down, until she was catching water drops as they traveled down his testicles. Her tongue tickled the sensitive flesh of his scrotum as she drank.
Lance grabbed the base of his cock. “Stop that,” he hissed. “Or I'll come right now.”
Another wicked, triumphant laugh, and she stood, leaning in to press her body against his.
His arms whipped around her. Her skin felt like wet satin under his hands, a maddening soft-strong drag against his nerves. He nipped and sucked on her lower lip, preying on her mouth. A pleased moan answered him. Despite her leanness, the swell of her ass yielded under his gripping hands.
Lance devoured her, his once-sated cock eager to take her again and again. Ravening erotic hunger gave him the strength to lift her up, rub against her hot, juicy opening.
He wanted to kiss her until those lines on her face smoothed out and her mouth curved in languor. The image of her ecstasy just a few hours ago haunted him.
He wanted to watch her come undone under his fingers until her fangs fully extended and she screamed down the moon. He wanted to bury himself deep inside until they could no longer tell whose heart beat and whose did not.
His cock nudged at her pearly gates. Heaven itself yielded no pleasure like her joy.
He wanted not to be falling in love with her.
She pushed away from him. He scowled.
“Put your legs around my waist,” he ordered.
An enigmatic smile teased her lips. “Wait.”
Faster than he could think, Valerie twisted and slithered in his grip until she balanced on her hands, upside-down on the slick surface of the shower room.
With the shower pouring down her, she swallowed his cock as sweet as butter.
Lance's knees buckled at the suede-smooth glide of her tongue against the sensitive shaft. His head tipped back under the cooling spray and clunked on the wall.
He'd forgotten one very important thing.
Vampires didn't breathe.
All the dirty locker room jokes in the world didn't prepare Lance for the reality of Valerie's mouth on his body.
Lance clutched her legs and held on like she was his angel.
Her fangs tantalizingly grazed the corona of his penis, just enough to tighten his thighs. Her mouth sucked him even harder when his legs shook. She made a pleased sound, the vibration nearly crossing his eyes.
When her throat massaged his head, he bit the inside of her thigh.
“Ah ah ah,” she gently scolded. Vampire fast, she reversed until she knelt in front of him. “Be good.”
To reinforce her will, she braced one pale arm against his belly and embraced his erection with her mouth.
The water ran cold.
Valerie cursed with her mouth full and spun the taps, even as she kept sucking. Occasionally, she'd clench him in her fist as her busy strong mouth licked and suckled his balls.
This was better than heaven.
Lance stiffened as a slick finger touched his pucker.
She pulled back and looked at him. Her eyes seemed less shadowed, less pained as her pink tongue circled his slit. The tip of her index finger nestled against the tension in his anus.
“I want this. I like this,” she murmured. “May I have it?”
They stared at each other a long moment. Should he yield? What would he lose if he acquiesced?
What would he gain?
She held still, waiting on him. Lance read no judgment in her eyes.
Could he trust her with what he had denied? With what he'd always wanted?
As though sensing he was at a crossroads, she slowly, slowly, licked the underside of his rod, her gaze never leaving him. Her soft lips kissed the very tip of his penis with a tenderness he suspected she rarely showed.
“The only wrong is being afraid of pleasure,” she whispered. “But I will not judge you.”
Deliberately, Lance closed his eyes.
She was strong enough to ...
“Do it,” he whispered back.
Slowly, slowly, she sucked him back and forth as his ass unfurled around her gentle pressure.
Lance's brain melted as her skin touched him intimately, as he opened to let her in.
Anal pleasure felt like nothing he'd imagined. Nothing scratched, nothing tore as she slid her wet finger inside of him. Instead, smooth firmness rubbed at his previously untouched walls.
Then, her mouth, gentle this time, wrapped around his cock. An unexpected wiggle in his behind, and stars shot behind his eyelids.
He jerked. She smiled up at him, her face relaxed and dreamy.
“This is so good.”
Valerie's grin turned wolfish as she crooked her finger and pushed. “Oh, you have no idea.”
Â
Â
His free hand stroked the hair at the back of her neck. He shifted her until their lips broke apart.
She growled, low and angry.
“Easy, baby. Let me catch my breath.”
Valerie bit his lip.
This time, he met her more than halfway. His lips seduced and cajoled, making her want to lean and cling.
Disgust at her weakness warred with her excitement at the idea of not being in control.
But being in control was too deeply ingrained. She wrapped her arms around him and rolled until she sat on him. Vaguely, she wished for her luxurious furs, but they waited for her in Jerusalem. They would go well in Lance's sterile bedroom.
“Hey!” Lance clasped her wrists. “Slow down.”
“No.” She broke his grip, wrapped her hands around his head, holding him still, and plundered his mouth. Valerie held him down, biting and nipping at him until their teeth clashed. She pulled back, retracted her fangs, and kissed him again.
Once she was satisfied with the taste of his mouth, she held his face more gently. Maddened by the wait for his recovery, she closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. His scent intoxicated her, ruined her judgment until all she wanted to do was drink him down.
This close to him, she licked up a heady mixture of spice, arousal, and the sweetness of a pure soul. Like opium, she had to have more. Like opium, her bones melted and her flesh quavered. Unlike opium, this addiction she never wanted to break. Her tongue led her across his face, down his neck, to his collarbone.
She slowly continued down his body. Each pore demanded her complete attention.
Valerie wanted all of him. His heady aroma had her detouring for his arms. She savored the thin skin of his inner elbow. She rubbed her face over his waist, enjoying the contrast, the glide of his soft body hair. Drugged as deeply as she'd ever been, she dragged herself back up his body to lap at his lips more.
Lance clenched and relaxed his hands on her hips, kneading at her flesh. She rode him like a horse, flexing her thighs and hips over and over his already hard cock. Eager for more stimulation on her ignored clitoris, she rolled him over until he was on top.
“Yes,” he hissed between gritted teeth, and rocked them.
She wrapped her legs around his butt and ground up to him. The pressure against her pussy sent a surge of moisture down her channel, soaking them.
“Oh, yeah, that's it, baby,” Lance whispered. He braced his hands on the floor and gave her a long, slow stroke. Excitement pulsed, shoving her toward orgasm.
The tip of his erection caught her just right. She could barely keep from biting him as the crest shoved her over.
She moaned, and through her drooping eyelids, saw an eager smile on his face. Lance buried his face between her legs.
“I'm gonna suck you right down, baby,” he purred. “I want to taste you so much.”
Valerie deliberately relaxed to the floor. So few lovers did this with any style, but she was sure Lance would make it good.
Slow and gentle, he teased her naked thighs wide with hot, openmouthed kisses. She spread for him, loving his murmurs of appreciation at her pubic hair, her swollen pussy lips. He wrapped one arm around her thigh, giving him access to her labia. At the first stroke of his soft, clever tongue, she groaned and surrendered.
On and on he stroked her. Valerie felt her fangs expand as he sipped her hard clit, drank from her sopping vagina. When his fearless tongue caressed her anus, she howled and bucked against his face as an orgasm sent her flying into space.
Completely naked, Lance propped himself up on his elbow. “Come here, honey.” He patted the floor next to him.
She faced him. Her eyebrow lifted at the sight of his chewed-up shoulder. “I see you're sleeping with a lamprey.”
“Yep.” He winked at her. “She was great. You should have been there.”
That rare sweet smile skittered across her face. Obviously embarrassed, she rubbed her cheek against the towels on the floor.
A faint purring sound reached his ears.
“You're a sensualist.”
She abruptly stopped. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
He ran his hand down her body in a long, slow caress. Her eyelids lowered slightly in at the sensation.
“You love your senses. Why do you hide that?”
Valerie rolled away.
Amused, he petted her belly in a lulling rhythm.
He was just about to fall asleep when she whispered, “I've never had friends. If you ever need anything, any time, a place to stay, someone killed, you let me know.”
Absurdly touched, Lance kissed her forehead. “How about calling the hospital to check on Glenath? She needs a friend now.”
Why couldn't the man ask her to do something easy? Valerie tossed one of Lance's shirts on over her nudity as she silently searched for the telephone. Talking on those ridiculous little machines never failed to creep her out. She found the cordless handset. Where the hell was the phone book? What in Lucifer's name was she going to say to the little bishop?