Knot (Road Kill MC #2) (24 page)

CHAPTER 9

Cole undressed Rachel with barely contained relish. Finally, he would consummate a relationship he had yearned for his entire vampiric lifetime. After months of running and strife, they had found a place to be, to exist together. A new order of coven, where Druid and Reaper flesh could unite to form a new race.

I couldn't wait for his touch and pushed the black leather from his massive shoulders. Cole shrugged it off, tearing his belt through loops with a high, whistling sound, the only noise in the room.

He tore the black T-shirt over his head, no hair to get in the way of his nakedness, the skull trim a shadow of black on his head as he dipped forward to capture my lips in his.

I melted into the hard lines of his body, never resisting, beyond resistance.

Cole carried me to the bed, pushing up the formal skirt I had worn to the “wedding” of the new queen.

My Druid sister.

To mate with me all Cole needed to do was plunge his shaft into me, spilling his Reaper's seed deep in my channel to ignite a pregnancy that would begin the new race. A race of equality and happiness. I didn't want to think about what it would mean to other vampire that there were Reapers and Druids pairing off and breeding out the low vampire. Leaving the old ways behind.

Cole growled and my distracted attention went back to what he was doing. “I cannot give you the pleasure I would wish for you, Rachel. I must bury myself like a sword of flesh in your body and spill my seed,” he said, his voice strained as he saw my panties, sheer enough to see the small
V
of hair that grew there revealed to perfection through the hot scarlet fabric.

He bent low and tore the panties off with his fangs, the pull of the fabric jerking my body. Cole immediately plunged his face into my pussy, his fangs out and rubbing delicately along first one fold then the other, like a cat scent-marking, he rubbed until my moistened honey poured out of my hot hole.

“You are so ready,” he murmured against the heat of my snatch. He put his large hands on my thighs and gently spread them until my folds were spread and pink, open for his sensual invasion.

I opened my legs further, inviting the exploration of his fingers. Cole complied by inserting two fingers, slipping them in and out until my breathing came fast and hard. I felt like I was hyperventilating.

“Put it in me... please!” I said in a hoarse voice, I couldn't stand it anymore. So many times interrupted, so many delays. I wanted his prick in me as deep as it would go. I spread my legs and lifted my hips even as I felt his finger leave me and the tip of his huge cock widen my opening to accommodate his size.

Which was considerable.

Cole worked his prick in, spreading the tightness of me until his entire length was buried to the end of me. He slowly pulled out, my pussy grabbing at him the whole way. I'd never been with a man that felt this way, this tantalizing dance of flesh perfectly matched, fully attuned to each other's bodies.

I moved to meet him and as he began to plunge in and out of me, smoothly pulling out and entering deeply I could feel the heat from his thrusts build inside my core, the need to release a deafening rhythm that only he could relieve, a delicious roaring in my ears.

“Rachel,” Cole said, his dark eyes meeting mine, no longer silver in the low light of the room. “Look at me as I spill my seed into your willing vessel.”

I did, falling into the well of eyes gone obsidian with desire, intent.

I lifted and he plunged. Finally, our flesh smacking together... it stuck and he grew still above me.

Then I felt it, a warmth spread deep within my pussy, hot seed filling me, my legs spread to receive, my pussy open to accept. I could feel my pulses as an orgasm shattered in response to his cum, sucking every bit of what he was giving deep within me.

With his prick still throbbing inside my pulsating pussy he said, “And now, I will pleasure you.”

He withdrew from the center of my pleasure, his face, tongue and hands descending on my wet and satisfied core.

He buried his face in me.

We stayed that way for a long while.

While I writhed beneath him in an ecstasy beyond measure.

CHAPTER 10

I laughed alongside Holly. We were
so
into a routine, pleasing our vampire mates at rest and frolicking during the day. Protected, fulfilled and no longer dissatisfied with our meager existences from before.

“I'm not bowlegged!” Holly mock huffed, her hands crossed and cradling a bosom that was well displayed in the clothing that Zach liked to see her in.

“I don't know, you spend more time in your bedroom than out of it!” I laughed.

Holly looked down at the spoon in her hand and blushed a light pink, the color spreading across her cheekbones delicately. “That's true, but you're one to talk! We can hear you and Cole from two states away!”

I smiled, she had me there. “Wait until more Druids come... this will turn into a pleasure palace.”

“I think it already is,” Holly said with a smirk.

I smiled, thinking she'd come a long way from innocent virgin to willing queenly slut. But not quite yet. She was due to consummate with the three Reapers.

Cole and I were mated and her true mate had enjoyed unlimited access to her willing body for a week.

As I thought of it The Natives were Restless.

In this case, the vampire.

As if on cue, Josiah, Elias and Andrew entered the room, their eyelids at half-mast, all attention on Holly.

She was feeling the moment, I could tell. She stood, smoothing a hand over her long skirt, the material had a metallic thread running throughout, in gold. Fit for a queen. A bustier in a deep crimson, tied and cinched, accentuated her wasp waist while heaving her ample breasts to be displayed like ripe plums for the taking.

The males watched her move toward them and met her halfway across the room.

“I'm ready,” she breathed as each one began to seductively paw her as she stood there.

“We know,” Andrew said.

“We smell your fertility; you are ripe to accept our seed within you,” Josiah told her.

Elias buried his hand beneath her skirt. Her soft moaning told me all I needed to know about where his finger had disappeared to.

Josiah and Andrew picked her up as Elias caressed and plundered her hidden flesh.

Holly's eyes met mine as the Reapers carried her away.

To fuck her into oblivion.

Or bliss.

No
, I thought...
definitely bliss.

THE END

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VAMPIRE

An Alpha Claim Brief-Bites® Novelette

Episode 1

New York Times
Bestselling Author(s)

MARATA EROS

TAMARA ROSE BLODGETT

All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © 2015 Marata Eros

Copyright © 2015 Tamara Rose Blodgett

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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

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Cover art by:
Willsin Rowe

Proofed by:
Corinna

Narah Adrienne is a bounty enforcer in the near future. She runs the seedy side of her game, capturing criminals too dangerous for the local law enforcement. Using unorthodox methods, she finds herself in the crosshairs of the Magistrate for too many allowable kills for the quarter.

And her head hurts like hell.

Aeslin is part of an elite vampire squad of Turners. A rare sect of vampire scouts who possess the ability to find women with enough undead blood to be turned into full vampire. As the numbers of the supernaturals dwindle, it is the hope of the Nobles that extinction can be a thing of the past with female hybrids.

In a race against time and common enemies, can Aeslin find the one female who is meant to be turned and also his parallel soul? Or will the fabled carrot the Nobles dangle turn out to be a lie perpetuated by desperation?

Narah

My legs are kicked up on the desk, the toes of my left combat boot stacked on the heel of my right. I lean my feet a couple of inches to the left and look at my boss.

Kinda wish I hadn't.

The tongue-lashing was going to be brutal, and not the fun kind. I just barely hold back a snort of self-serving comedy.

“Narah,” Casper leans into the desk, edging a butt cheek on the only part not covered by my assortment of shit. My eyebrow cocks. Perturbed doesn't cover it. If I wanted a butt on my desk, I'd ask.

“What?” I bark with anticipation.

A vein in Casper's forehead throbs and I dial it back some. No need to bring the guy to heart failure.

“What?” I repeat more good-naturedly, though both of us know I'm nothing of the sort.

He sighs, scrubbing a palm over his face. Hair almost as white as swan feathers glows under the LED lighting in my tiny office, and his glacial eyes tighten, fighting for a view of my face over the top of my boot.

I jack my feet down and stuff them underneath my desk. My fingers itch to go to my smart phone. Anything to not commit to this conversation.

“You know we appreciate your skill set.”

Blah, blah, stinking-blah.

“But we can't have you pulling firearms on all your bounties.”

My bottom lip pops out in a pout. “It was a very small gun, Casper.” I put my index and thumb almost touching.

“Using manstopper ammunition?”

He might have a small point.

“Outlawed in 1898,” Casper adds.

I shrug a bare shoulder, my tank top skin-tight against my small frame. I find loose clothes are handles to make a bludgeon against me easier. I nail the targets but if there's nothing for them to grab onto, so much the better.

“I like antique weaponry and ammunition,” I say with deliberate nonchalance.

“Really?” Casper says and I wince at the sound of his voice. “Let's run down the list of target fatalities.”

Hmmm.

“Target 103, lethal stabbing.”

I lean back in my chair and cock my neck back, staring at the dingy ceiling. A water stain has spread out from the center in a pattern of copper lines that somehow resemble a flower opening.

It's sort of like watching clouds outside, but inside.

“Narah!”

I sigh, answering the ceiling. “Yeah.”

“Target 424, beheading.”

Yeah, that'd been messy.

“Again, I was in fear for my life,” I say, not sounding defensive.

At. All.

“Thirteen times?” Casper asks softly.

My chin snaps down and I meet his eyes. Mine are big and golden hazel like a cat's, and that's why I hide them behind my aviator shades. The sun hurts like hell. I've always been sensitive to sunlight.

I shrug. It'll get me nowhere to fight with Casper. Who has the nickname in the office of, The Ghost. No one says it to his face though. I fight a snicker.

“We are the last profession for use of lethal force, you know. It's not goddamned 2015, when everyone thought all physical force was necessary in some capacity.”

I'm in the wrong era,
I muse with regret.

“We are the last stand against the criminals of our time. When the police can't nail them, then it's up to us. But Narah,” Casper scrubs his head, his crewcut bristling from the contact, “we can't have you killing all the targets. They must be brought to justice.”

And of course, if I kill a target, Casper doesn't get credits. That's what this is
really
about. I bring in the most targets in our office. I get results and he gets credits for my hard work.

We stare at each other. I won't break and Casper knows it. “You're the finest bounty hunter we have. Your instincts are uncanny, and you never let being a woman get in your way...”

I lunge to my feet and Casper jerks to his, eyeing me warily.

Good, my desk is finally free of his ass.

“Nothing about me being a woman comes into play here.”

Casper shoots out an exhale like a cannon. “Everything about it matters. You're smaller, you're vulnerable to things a man could never be.”

Rape is the clear inference.

“You think a man can't be raped?” I bark out a laugh. “You think that my looks don't disarm. They do, Cas.” My eyes laser down on him and his shift away. “You know I'm a proficient, Level Ten.”

“Nothing to sneeze at,” he concedes and opens his mouth to add more, perhaps dig his grave a little deeper.

I raise my palm.
Nothing to sneeze at.
I can feel a royal conniption fit brewing. “No. If I've killed while gunning for a target,” Casper frowns at my wording which causes me to grin, “then they needed dying. Period.”

Casper walks to my office door. “I'm sorry, Narah, I've done what I could, but the law states that there can't be more than ten sanctions in one quarter. You have thirteen. I got the bonus three waived.” He whips his palm in the air like he's performing a magic trick. “Now you'll have to go before the magistrate.”

Fuck.
They'd plug me a second ass after a first class reaming. If—
if
I could even bounty again.

I jerk my leather jacket off the back of my chair and sling it on. A bright headache, a new friend of mine of late, settles into my temples with zeal. I press my fingers against my head.

I hate not having a target. The chase is the one thing that makes my life worth living. No longer an outcast—always in the game.

Now the rules are being threatened.

And all I want to do is play.