He shifted under her, and
then glancing down as she unfastened the front of his trousers. “You have
another reasonable alternative to propose?”
She slid down from his
lap, kneeling in front of him as she freed and cradled his shaft between her
hands. Delicately she laved the smooth, engorged head of his penis before
parting her lips to take it in to suckle.
Velvet brushed against
her scalp as he worked his gloved hand through the hair at the back of her
head.
“I understand now.” He
muffled a groan as she tugged rhythmically at him. “You mean to punish me.”
Samantha felt her
dents
acérées
push out
of her palette, and gently scored him with the sharp tips as she drew her
head back. He’d taught her the trick of how to do it without drawing blood,
although in that moment she wanted nothing more than to bury her fangs in
his flesh. She felt the same urge whenever they argued, although she didn’t
want to do it to hurt him. Somehow it was mixed up with her endless desire
for his body as well as her longing for his love, a dual craving as constant
as her need for blood as nourishment.
As always, Lucan seemed
to read her thoughts, and dragged her up to his chest. This time, however,
he didn’t comfort her, or assure her that the sex was enough.
“Again.” He shook back
his long fair hair to expose his throat. “Here.”
Samantha pressed her
forehead against his neck, struggling against the instinct. Knowing he
offered his blood made the temptation to take it a thousand times worse. “I
can’t.”
“It is what we both want,
my lady,” he murmured, kissing the curve of her shoulder as he spread her
thighs and settled her against him. “It is what we are.”
She could feel the blood
beneath his skin, driven by the slow, heavy beat of his heart. Her throat
tightened and her mouth ached, and then she couldn’t think anymore. As he
pushed his cock into her body, she set her open mouth against him and drove
her teeth deep.
As she drank from him,
she felt his velvet glove spread over her spine, his fingers flexing like
the claws of a cat. He didn’t move inside her or permit her to move, but
held her sheathed as he swelled and pulsed deep within. When she tore her
mouth away he brought her face to his and took her lips, adding the heat of
his kiss to the lingering dark wine of his blood.
When Sam drew back she
saw the depth of need in his. “Is this my punishment?”
He slid his big hands
down to grasp her hips. “If it is, you must never obey me again.”
He stood, holding her
welded against him as he carried her to their bed. There he dropped down
atop her and worked himself into her with hard, powerful strokes. Sam had
already come but he brought her over again, and then a third time as he used
his teeth on her breasts.
When she felt him slow
and tense, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, using her inner muscles
to clamp down and milk his cock until he pumped his cool, thick semen into
her womb.
He collapsed on her for a
moment before he rolled them to their sides. Sam combed the bright, soft
hair back from his hard cheek and watched his pupils expand from thin
slivers of hunger to the full roundness of satisfaction.
“I love this,” she
whispered, tracing his lower lip with a fingertip. “And I want this, all the
time, so badly I can’t begin to describe it. But in my heart, it’s not about
the blood or the amazing sex or anything about being Kyn.”
His eyes moved over her
face. “Then what is in your heart, Samantha?”
“You.” She rested her
hand over his heart. “I love
you
,
Lucan. That’s why I forgot all the stupid fucking rules tonight. I was
scared, and then when I came in all I could see was him between you and me.”
“Jamys Durand did not
come here to harm me or anyone,” he said, covering her fingers with his. “He
is in trouble, but it has nothing to do with the dead mortal you found. I
think Alexandra sent him to me because she believes I can help bring him
back to himself.”
“Can you?”
“Nothing is certain,” he
admitted. “I rescued him from the Brethren who rendered him mute, so the boy
may feel some gratitude toward me. Then again, he was catatonic at the
time.”
“If Jamys isn’t involved
with my victim, then there’s another strange Kyn in our territory,” she
said. “One who could have done this to get to you. Who could be hunting you
right now.”
“I’ve been hunted before,
my love.” He pressed her closer. “Many times.”
“If anything were to
happen to you . . . ” unable to complete the thought, she closed her eyes.
“Don’t keep me out of this. Please.”
“We will find the Kyn who
did this together,” he said against her hair. “I promise.”
Chapter Four
On the fourth floor of
the Coral Palm Weekly Rentals building, an alarm clock went off. A thin hand
knocked over a smeared bottle with an inch of cheap wine in the bottom as it
groped for the off button, disturbing two cockroaches and an overflowing tin
ashtray.
Once she’d shut off the
goddamn noise, Alisa crawled out of the frayed, torn cocoon of bed sheets
and tottered her way across the scuffed linoleum to the bathroom. There she
reached under the sink for the bottle taped to the back of the pipe, and
shook out the contents into her palm. Three white oval pills were all that
tumbled out, even after she banged the empty bottle against the sink.
By her count, she should
have had at least six left. Her fucking source had shorted her again.
She popped the last of
her stash, bending over to get a mouthful of water from the tap to help them
go down. Three were just enough to take the edge off and get her ass in
gear. As she straightened, the bulb over the mirror illuminated the wide
white and gray stripes on either side of the part in her hair. Four inches
of her real hair color couldn’t have grown out since her last dye job; the
stupid hairdresser must have used a temporary color last time instead of the
permanent stuff. She didn’t have a wig, but after fumbling a bit she was
able to hide the worst of it by drawing it back in a loose ponytail.
“Go see that bitch
tomorrow,” she promised her reflection. “Make her do it again the right
way.”
She peed before she
searched through the clothes scattered around the floor for something she
could wear for her nooner. She hated getting up this early, especially after
working until sunup, but one of her regulars had called in and wanted her at
his office downtown. He was only a half-mile from her source, the stingy
cocksucker, who had put her on COD since September.
She could give up the
Vicodin anytime; that wasn’t a problem. The synthetic shit was always easier
to kick than real morphine. But Christmas was next week, and she’d promised
herself a little wine-and-vike vacation for the holidays. As soon as January
first rolled around, she’d wean herself off, go after some better trade and
start saving for a new place. This rent-by-week dive had gotten old, fast.
The manager, a skinny
redneck named George, snapped at her when she came downstairs. “Where’s my
money, Red?”
Alisa kept walking, so of
course he trotted after her so he could cut her off and get in her face.
“I’m going to pick up my paycheck now,” she told him. “I’ll give you what I
owe when I get back.”
He sneered. “Whores don’t
get no paycheck.”
“Some guys want me for a
party,” she lied. “That all right with you, or you want me to wave a magic
wand and make the cash appear?”
“Don’t you get
fresh-mouthed with me.” He shoved her back a step. “You owe me for three
weeks. I want the money.”
“I’m sorry, okay?” She
gave his raw-boned arm a half-hearted rub. “We can work it out, George, huh?
Like always.”
“You can’t even suck dick
worth a damn anymore,” he told her. “I want the money, tonight, or I’m
tossing you and your shit out.”
He’d never turned her
down before this. Alisa felt her throat tighten, but then remembered the
young skank who’d just moved in with her kid last week. That made sense – he
was probably getting it day and night off her. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”
If she’d had enough cash
for a taxi she would have flagged one, but the downtown buses ran every half
hour and that was all she could afford until her nooner settled the tab. It
made her a few minutes late getting to his building, but it would do him
good to wait. He always worked himself up while he did, and since she hadn’t
done him in a month or two, he’d be primed.
Larry met her in the
lobby as usual, but after staring at her for a minute he turned her around
and walked her back out of the building.
“We going to a motel?”
she asked him.
“You can’t come here
looking like this,” he said, his jowls waggling.
“What’s wrong with how I
look?” Her dress needed ironing, sure, and she’d forgotten to put on
stockings, but he was acting like she was naked.
“Jesus Christ, Alisa. You
look like a frigging skeleton.” He lifted her arm to show her where his
fingers overlapped around her wrist. “When was the last time you ate
something?”
She couldn’t remember,
but that didn’t matter. “You know a lady can never be too rich or too thin.”
“You’re not a lady, and
you smell like you haven’t had a shower in a week.” He stopped and took out
his wallet. “Here.” He thrust a twenty in her hand. “Thanks for coming by.”
“Wait a minute.” She
hurried after him. “Our arrangement is two hundred.”
He wouldn’t look at her.
“That was when you were worth it. Maybe you should check into some rehab
place. Get some intervention or whatever they call it.”
“I am not a junkie,” she
screamed at him. When he didn’t answer her, she trotted after him. “Okay,
okay, Lar, I’m sorry. I’ve had hard times lately, and I got up late this
morning. I’ll go to the ladies and clean up.” He wouldn’t stop walking.
“I’ll do whatever you want. You wanted to try anal with me on your
secretary’s desk, didn’t you? We’ll do that.”
At the door he turned on
her. “Don’t come around here again, or I’ll call the police on you.”
Alisa stood outside the
glass doors and watched his fat ass twitch as he waddled away. She was
tempted to go after him again – twenty bucks wouldn’t buy her shit, and he
was married with a couple of kids – but there was no time for that. She
could already feel the edge coming back, and if she didn’t turn over some
fast cash, by tonight she’d have the sweats and the shakes.
She hadn’t turned tricks
on the street since she was a kid, but it was a short walk down to the
beach. Too damn early for serious trade, of course, but there were always
tourists looking for a cheap fuck.
Once she found a stretch
of sidewalk not being worked by one of the regular street girls, she
unbuttoned the front of her dress down to her sunken waist and slowed her
pace to a seductive saunter. She’d always been good with the street trade,
cheap pricks that they were. Guys who cruised the beach liked skinny
redheads who could suck hard. Today they must have been down in Miami, she
thought after an hour with no takers. The only drivers who braked gave her a
look and then took off. After another wasted hour she moved further south,
but soon discovered that this end of the beach was almost deserted.
Alisa sat down on the
edge of a short driveway wall in front of an abandoned building and swiped
her hand over her sweating face. All she needed was another fifty bucks.
That would get her twenty Vikes, enough to take care of her for the night.
She’d give George some jewelry to hold as security until she made enough to
pay the rent. She was almost sure she still had that strand of real pearls
one of her johns bought so she could shove it up his ass. All she needed was
fifty. Two tricks, maybe three.
A young, dark-haired
whore in a sparkling red cocktail dress came from behind Alisa and sat down
beside her.
“I’m working this end of
the strip, kid,” she told her, but the girl only looked at her with her big
dark eyes. “Get lost.”
The girl reached out and
brushed a trickle of sweat from Alisa’s cheek. Normally she would have
knocked the kid on her ass for daring to touch her, but Alisa didn’t feel so
good now.
“I’m sick,” she
complained as she turned her head away. “I need my pills but I don’t have
enough money to pay for them.” She took out her cigarettes, lit two and
passed one to the girl. “You got any cash? I’m good for it.”
The girl took a drag,
released the smoke and smiled.
What
do you want?
Alisa could have sworn
she didn’t hear the girl speak, but the words echoed inside her head,
bouncing back and forth like the throb of the vicious headache she’d gotten
from all the walking.
“I want my pills.” She
jumped as the girl took hold of her arm, but the cool hand felt good on her
feverish skin. “I need money. You got any cash I can—“
What
do you want?
The
voice asked again, and this time Alisa was looking straight at the girl, and
saw that her lips didn’t move.