Retribution (Book 3 of The Dominion Series) (17 page)

"Oh, God," I say and pull away from him, trying to block out his memories because they're too powerful. "I
never
want to be a vampire."

"I know," he says, and his voice sounds as if he’s hurt. "It's horrible. The bloodlust is rarely ever fully slaked. You don't want it. Being a blood slave is nothing compared to it."

"Don't ever let me become a vampire," I say, my voice breaking. "I'd rather die. Kill me first, Julien. I
mean
it."

He brushes my hair from my cheek.

"OK."

But I see into his mind – a brief flash of resistance to that idea. He won't kill me if it happens. He'll let me become a vampire and then enjoy me the way he really desires. He doesn't want me to ever die.

I block him from my mind, shut him out.

"Julien," I say, angered. "
Never
. I'm mortal. I want to stay that way, even if it means I die."

He says nothing. Just pulls me into his lap and prepares to open a seam on his neck for me but I stop him, pulling his hand back, pushing away from him. I sit beside him on the bed.

"Your wrist."

"No," he says, his voice soft but insistent. "Don’t do this. I love it when you feed from my neck."

"I don't
want
to be a vampire," I say, trying to sound as firm as I can.  "You're going to have to promise me, truthfully, that you won't let it happen, or no more neck. Just wrist."

"
Eve
," he says, exasperation in his voice. "You're so cruel. I can’t help how I feel.”

“You can promise not to let me become a vampire, despite how you feel.”

He doesn’t say anything and I can feel his frustration. “You can’t make me promise that, Eve. I
can’t
promise. I’d do anything to save your life.”

“There are things worse than death.”

“You sound like Michel,” he says. “Believe me, death is worse because it’s eternal. Pain you can tolerate because it ends. Loneliness? It passes eventually. You can always start over every day. Being a vampire? It’s bad. It’s a curse but it’s beautiful as well because you get to see so much, experience so much. But death? It’s forever.”

He takes my face in his hands and strokes my cheek with his thumb.

“You have to know that I’d turn you to save you. I wouldn’t let you die. I
won’t
let you die. Thing about vampires? We live forever, but those we love, we love forever. It’s why Soren can’t let go. He loved Marguerite. He’ll never get over her death.”

“I didn’t think he could love anyone.”

“You’d be wrong. He loved her. He loves Michel.”

“Michel?”

“Oh, yes. Soren tried to hate him, but can’t.”

“I thought he hated Michel for killing Marguerite and staked you to torture him.”

“No, the opposite. He staked me to get Michel on his side.”

“Michel said Soren wanted him as his Pope.” I glance at his face to see his response. “And you as his warlord.”

Julien nods and brushes my hair away from my neck.

“He has plans. We’ll use those plans to get to him one day. But now, we’ve got to keep after Blackstone. I have a feeling Vasquez has sent us here for a reason.”

I watch his face for a while, entranced once more by his beauty, his large expressive blue eyes, his brows, the square jaw covered in a few days growth of beard.  And the fact he has no idea he’s been compelled.

“Julien, I don’t want you to
ever
make me a vampire.”

“Eve, I
love
you. Don’t ask me to make that promise. I can’t.”

“Fine,” I say and pull away from him. “Give me your wrist.”

He does without hesitation, no more argument in him. He’s already run a nail across his vein so that blood drips from the wound. I drink, a mouthful and then two. It’s enough to satisfy me and I hand his wrist back and he licks the wound to heal it.

Then I lie down on the bed and pull the covers up, my back to him, the endorphins already making me feel warm. With his blood in my system, I can feel his sadness from a distance and it softens my heart towards him.

“It’s really sweet of you to care enough to want to turn me, Julien,” I say, “but it’s the very last thing I’d want, considering what happened to my mother.”

He says nothing, but I hear him finish undressing. He gets under the covers and lays without touching me. On my part, the blood is starting to work its magic and warmth spreads from my stomach to my groin and I feel a need to fuck him that I can’t deny. I dig my nails into my palm in an attempt to block the lust from building, and to keep Julien from sensing it.

“I already know,” he says and sighs. “Why are you so damn stubborn? Why don’t you want me?”

“It’s the blood, Julien.” I breathe deeply to try to gain control over myself. “Nothing else. Besides it’s really late. We have to work later. I need to sleep.”

He's silent for a moment but he almost squirms on the bed beside me.

“You won’t mind if I just take matters into my own hand, will you?” he says, his voice all breathy. “You may not need it, but I have this, well, not quite little,
problem
.”

I don’t say anything for a moment, a bit in shock. Is he going to masturbate while he lies beside me?

The covers rustle and then I think I can hear the sound of fabric on fabric and the bed moves beside me. Is he removing his briefs? I swear I can hear the sound of his hands stroking over his own naked skin and his breath is a bit ragged. I can’t help but respond to the thought that he’s going to give himself an orgasm beside me. I’ve never seen a man do it to completion.

I want to watch.

“Yes, you can,” he says and of course, he’s reading my mind. “I’d like you to.”

I reach over and switch on the light and he’s there in all his naked beauty, one hand on his very nice and thick cock and the other between his thighs, touching himself.
  I lean over him, my gaze moving over his body, from his face, to his neck and chest, to his hands on himself. He’s touching himself lightly, but he’s hard as a rock.

“Care to donate some saliva?” he says and stops.

“You want me to spit on you?”

He grins, his eyes closed. “Please.”

I lean closer and gather up some saliva and let it drop onto the head. He uses it to lubricate his hand, which he slides over the head, then circles his shaft with his fingers and strokes, fast for a dozen or so strokes and then slow.

“More,” he says, and I comply, half amused and half aroused.

“You don’t use a lubricant?”

“I prefer the natural kind. Especially when you provide it.”

“How long does it take?”

“You’ve never seen a man masturbate before?”

I shake my head. “I saw a grainy video once but it was just a clip. Nothing in person.”

“Oh,
God
, Eve…” he says, closing his eyes. “Another first.”

He alternates speed, stroking fast for a while, then he stops, squeezing the head so that more of his fluid seeps out, which he uses as lubricant. His eyes are closed for most of the time, but then he opens them and glances over at me.

“Pull down your nightgown,” he says, his voice husky. “Show me your breasts.”

I comply without a thought, for it seems logical. Of course, he’d want to see my breasts.

The sight of my bare breasts spurs him on to a series of rapid strokes during which he squeezes himself around the head. 

“Touch them,” he says. “Make your nipples hard.”

I do, enjoying his response, his eyes narrowing, his breathing increasing.

“More saliva,” he instructs and I don’t hesitate. He has his beautiful cock grasped in his hand, the other hand touching between his legs, and he’s tense, his muscles taut.

“Spread your legs,” he orders.  “Show me your pussy.”

I do, propping one of my legs over his so that he can see me. Men are so visual. Seeing me with my breasts bared, my thighs spread, elicits a flurry of rapid strokes over his shaft, his upper body tensing. I think he’s close, just from the speed, but I have no idea.

“Spread your pussy open,” he says. “Let me see your pink.”

“My
pink?
” I frown, unfamiliar with the term. “What do you mean?”

“Spread your inner lips. I want to see your pink. See you wet.”

I do and he exhales heavily, his eyes greedy for me.

“Touch yourself,” he says, his voice shaking. “Rub your clit.”

“Aren’t you all bossy,” I say, amused but at the same time, aroused.

“You love it, Eve,” he says and he’s right. I do.
  “Now, wet your fingers and touch your clit. Rub it for me.”

I slip my fingers in my mouth slowly and suck them with exaggerated sounds. This seems to please him. I make them very wet and then I slip them between my labia and stroke.

“Like this?” I say, my voice all breathy.

“Oh,
God
,” he says and his voice is almost a moan. “Put your fingers inside of you.”

I do, and that's enough to push him over the top. He strokes really fast and short, then his body arches forward, his hand slowing, squeezing below the head and he groans. He ejaculates while he strokes slow and firm, his semen spurting onto his chest in pulses, then finally, dribbling out, his neck and jaw tense, his eyes never leaving me. Finally, he relaxes, his muscles slackening, his breathing slowly returning to normal.

I reach over to the bedside and remove a few tissues from the box and wipe him up. He watches me silently, but I feel his eyes on me. I don’t say anything, just wait to see what he says and does.

“Well?” he says, that grin starting. “What did you think?”

I throw the tissues into the trashcan and then straddle his hips, crouching over him, my hands on either side of his chest. I lean down to kiss him.

“I think I need to fuck you,
now
.”

His eyes widen and he smirks. “Lucky for you I’m a vampire or you’d be out of luck.”

When I glance down between our bodies, I see he’s hard again, his erection throbbing with his heartbeat.

I smile at him. “Lucky for me.”

When I wake a couple hours later, he’s asleep on the bed beside me.

While coffee perks on the small wet bar counter, I perform a series of yoga positions to limber up. Then, I go through my morning routine of
Ni
tō
Ichi martial arts moves
– the moves we did to start our day at the abbey.

For that, I have my two short Wakizashi swords forged in Japan. One is a blade, one is a stake. I pull them from their cases and quickly clean them to keep them in good shape. I hold the blade up and run a cloth over the edge, remembering the night I passed the test. After I finish my routine, I shower while Julien sleeps, a pillow over his head. As I’m soaping up, I feel him get in behind me, the glass door opening, admitting cool air.

“Care for company?”

My body responds immediately to the note of lust in his voice, for I know where this will lead.

“You’ve barely even slept.”

“I don’t want to miss you all nice and wet,” he says, pulling me against him. He’s already erect, and when I feel him so hard against my belly as we kiss, a thrill of desire races through my body. I rub my soapy hands over him, over his well-defined chest and abs, over the crests of his hips, and then his lovely thick erection, sliding my fingers around him, and then behind over his ass cheeks, which are so firm and round. Touching him connects us and his desire increases my own until I’m almost panting.

He kneels down and kisses my belly, then lifts my leg, draping it over his shoulder so that I have to lean back against the tiled wall, my hands searching to grasp the safety bar on either side. He slides his tongue between my labia and finds my hard clit and I close my eyes, it feels so good. He works me up a bit and then slides fingers inside of me while he continues to tongue me, stroking over my entire sex slowly and deliberately, so that soon, my thighs are shaking.

Then he turns me around and fucks me from behind, my hands spread on the tile wall, and he's careful where he touches me, remembering our last experience in the shower.

Michel said Julien would make me happy. I didn't realize it meant I'd have so many orgasms in such a short time.

When we’re dried off, he crawls back under the covers naked and watches me dress. He slips into a kind of boss mode.

"If there are any vampires here, they're in deep cover. I saw no one last night, on the street or in the bars. After we get a look at the body, we'll talk about our strategy. We may have to settle here if anything suspicious turns up in the police and coroner records. The term at the Catholic College started last week. If you need to, you can register and become a student. Fit in. All three victims attended there."