Authors: Romance Novels Publishing
His fangs began retracting slightly into his mouth, sending a rush of newly generated blood into his cock. For the first time in many years, he felt a jolt of electricity and built a firm erection. Her skin, the source of his true ecstasy, filled him with extra reservoirs of old stored blood. It wasn’t the feeding of her blood, but merely the scent of her own engorged skin, that inspired his lust to return.
She slid down her panties right in front of a helpless Lester, letting him watch in frustration, his fangs barely out and his cock firming up. She slid her panties down, forcing him to feast his eyes and nose on her neatly trimmed bush, but never within biting distance. It was torture all right, but the kind of torture that reinvigorated Lester making him feel very much alive.
He was not quite in “control” of things, after all his cock was shooting up hard and thickening up so hard it hurt. His eyes were not only red but pink, and his body convulsed as if victimized by the sun. His limbs burned and his voice growled in agony. But he was the most turned on he had ever been. Just as he knew, from the very moment he met her, her skin was lavish, opulent and where he desired to be.
She fondled his member, growing larger than she anticipated, and reaching ten inches erect. Barbara played with his member, enjoying the sensation of being this close to his deadly fangs, torturing him as comeuppance for her own frustrated felt earlier at the wedding reception.
She kissed his firm shaft up and down, letting her lips moisten it. She tantalized him further, letting her skin slide, shimmy and wiggle all over his cock. She put his hard member in between her breasts, on her tummy and finally, in between her lips. Her lower lips that is, as she teased his head by rubbing it against her labia, firming him up for full penetration. As supernaturally hard as he was, erectile dysfunction was not going to be problem anytime soon.
She squatted down, resting on his lap and then hoisted herself onto him, hugging his hard dick as she took him inside her pussy. Whatever he was, he was no man. His penis seemed to vibrate, constantly increasing in pulsating speed, like a vibrator toy that had no limits.
Barbara could barely ride him, without feeling too much genital friction. Every time she rubbed against him, the veins of his shaft ribbed her walls causing deep internal friction. She moaned softly as she began dripping lube on him.
She pushed down hard on his nipples, trying with everything she had to ride him—but being slowed down by little sparks or “shocks” that seemed to start in her G-spot and travel up to her clitoris and labia. The little sparks were only slightly stingy, just painful enough to induce pleasure and she started craving the little jabs. Every time they sparked, she flooded his cock with more juice, which in turn, generated more blood reservoirs, making his erection firmer and thicker.
They were both grunting hard within minutes of entry, the wet sliding in and out sending full body waves of euphoria. The feeling was almost too intense for Lester, but sensing his weakness, she touched his face and demanded: “Look at me…”
She forced herself to absorb the hard friction and pummeling little snaps of electricity, until she was riding him hard, pummeling his cock which showed no signs of release. He watched in face contorting agony as her breasts bounced in front of him, teasing him so bad his fangs came out again—only slightly dulling his erection.
Barbara held onto his biceps tightly as she rode him harder, avoiding his mouth but forcing him to feel her flush skin pressed to his. His blood-thirsty screeches only turned her on, and dared her to ride him harder, taunting him to see who would implode from passion first.
She thought she could break him and tried with all her might, crashing onto his dick with everything she had, but he remained rigid and immovable. Those damned little electric sparks still firing away inside, and with her pussy flooding the bed, she felt her internal walls starting to contract. She was ready to come. But with her last breath before orgasm, she reached over to let him out of the cuffs. She unlocked both hands and let his hands dangerously free and uninhibited.
He looked perplexed, his glowing red eyes showing a streak of sorrow. “What are you doing?!”
“Testing you. If you really love me…my whole skin and my whole inside and outside…then I trust you.”
“It doesn’t work that way…” he said weakly, still being pummeled by her pussy and now suffocated by her wiggling breasts.
“Then bite me. Turn me,” she groaned, not really caring what the consequences were—so as long as she could feel the climax of this ethereal adventure.
“I can’t, Barbara…” he said in apology. “I can’t control it…”
“Grab my tits,” she said, taking his charred wrists and forcing him to touch her fleshy parts. “Hold on…see if you can do it.”
“No…I can’t…it’s too much…”
“Then make me hurt,” she said, keeping intense eye contact as she rode him freely.
He reached out and grabbed her breasts, feeling her skin and sensing her entire being. He desired her blood. More than anything he craved to taste her skin, but to bite through it and unleash those swirls of sweet red sugary sauce.
He held on, tensing up his body, and began pinching her nipples with his shaky fingers.
The thrill sent Barbara into orgasm, who was finally imploding, unable to contain the worst of him. Her contractions shook her body as she creamed him again and screamed the voice of certain death.
Just when she thought she could have a normal orgasm, Lester began shooting missiles of sperm inside of her—sending ten spurts, then another ten, then another, an unending fountain of pleasure.
Even after she came again, and again, pounding his chest in madness, his erection stayed strong and spurting. She was done and her pussy was spent.
Finally, she thought of an idea of how to tame his inner monster. She rolled over, pulling herself off his rod, and reached inside her dresser.
Still recovering from quaking orgasm, she grabbed a razor blade and sliced herself down the elbow, unleashing a tiny shot of blood—which she fed to Lester.
Lester guzzled up the escaping trickle of blood, licking it clean. Just as he ingested it, he finally “climaxed”—at least in that his erection deflated and he stopped shooting spurts. His body tremored and then rested, finding an afterglow peace. The taste of her blood calmed Lester, curing him of the insatiable lust for blood, skin and sex that she had fired up inside him.
To both his and her surprise, what little blood that was seemed to satiate him and calm his quivering body.
She rolled on top of him, still loving the sensation of their skin making contact—indeed, their bodies having entire conversations of texture and caressing.
“That was clever…” he said in a wheeze. But I don’t know if that will work next time,” he said with a tragic note. “I can’t promise that I will always be able to resist you.”
“Then don’t resist,” she said, soaking up orgasmic relief herself, unable to resist him, or think of anything better to say than… “Just take me.”
“You mean turn you? Into me?”
“You said, Lester, that your love once died and left you feeling alone. Because she wasn’t immortal, was she?”
“No.”
“How did you resist turning her?”
“Because I was younger. I had more blood in my system back then.”
“And how did you feel when you lost her?”
“It ended my life in many ways,” he said in quieted reflection.
“Then don’t lose it all again. Take me with you. So that way…you’ll never have to lose me. We can be together forever.”
Lester stared at her in uncertainty.
“What is it?”
“You don’t know the things you say.”
“I’m not stupid, Lester,” she said. “I know…that’s what she said to you, isn’t it? She begged you to turn her, so that you could stay together. And you didn’t. You lost her.”
“I couldn’t do that to her. It didn’t feel right…”
“And what did it get you? Hundreds of years of loneliness.”
“Of despair. Of great despair, my dear. So much that I all but gave up on life.”
“But you promised her you would find her again. Didn’t you? The next rebirth. You both promised you would find each other.”
“Oh my…is that you? Could it be…”
“Don’t play coy, Lester. I know. Her name was Annabelle, wasn’t it? And that’s why you found me. That’s why we both felt something.”
“Yes…” His eyes teared up and he held Barbara close, never wanting to let go of her skin, not even for a moment. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought it too absurd or insulting to explain. But from the moment I saw you, I knew it was you. I almost cried from the very moment I met you, love. It took everything I had to hold it in.”
Barbara nodded and shot her eyes into the ceiling, thinking back to old stubborn memories. “I always knew I dreamt of Annabelle for a reason. I was obsessed with this woman, whom I had nothing in common with, but a very clear vision of what she looked like. I always suspected…somehow…I was her. I was reborn. And somewhere…I would find my true love. Someone beyond everyone else. Someone who matched me perfectly.”
“When did you know?”
“I think when you first touched me I felt it. Then, just now, I knew for sure. Your skin, darling. Your skin is what told me the secret. The way our bodies communicated with each other, beyond conversation, just with touches of information. We fell in love…because we never left each other in spirit.”
“What if…what if I let you go again? What if I can’t bear to turn you? Just like last time?”
“Well…” Barbara said, caressing his face, enjoying that dangerous red glow in his eyes, that at any moment could turn menacing. “Let’s take it one day at a time. Enjoy my youth for as long as you can. Looks fade fast. But the heart lives on.”
She smiled, running her fingers along his teeth, always eager to see those fangs sprout up again. “And at some point you’re going to have to be selfish about it and realize there’s no way you can keep living without me by your side.”
Lester realized that Barbara was right, he paused for a moment and took a deep breath. Then he looked straight and hard into her eyes for what it seemed like an eternity, and without any words, deep inside, they already sealed their destiny.
THE END
He was lying. She could tell by the way he shifted his weight, avoided her gaze. “Please,” she tried again, “if you’ve seen her, I need to know. She’s been missing for almost a month now. The police won’t help me.” Her throat clogged with tears, making it difficult to talk.
The man sighed, cleared his throat, and then coughed so hard she was afraid he’d hack up a lung. Marissa took a tentative step back, but not too far. She didn’t want to lose this guy. He was the first real lead she’d found in her search for her best friend, Angie.
Angie had gone missing suddenly. She’d had a date with a man she met online, and she’d done everything right. She told Marissa about the date, given the details of where they’d be, who he was, his online profile. That way, if anything did happen, someone would be able to find her. Well, something had happened. Angie never came home.
As soon as Marissa realized that, she’d gone to the police, but of course they were no help. Angie was a grown woman, and she could do whatever she wanted. It was “normal” for women to take off with men. Marissa had laughed at the officer. Clearly they knew nothing about Angie because this wasn’t like her. She wasn’t impulsive. She was calm, rational, and happy. Happy women didn’t just take off like this.
When the man still didn’t answer, Marissa pulled out a second sheet of paper. “Do you know this man?” She held out the printed screen shot of the dating profile. Angie had given it to Marissa before the date. Good thing, too, because when Marissa went online to look the guy up, he’d disappeared, too. No trace of his profile. No record of any emails between him and Angie.
“I know the name, but that’s not him,” the guy said, nodding at the photo.
“What do you mean that’s not him?” Marissa’s heart raced. Maybe this was it, maybe she’d finally get some answers.
“I mean, that ain’t his picture. But his name is Jonah.” The man spit and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand.
A fake profile picture. Of course. She should’ve known that. But why give a fake picture and use a real name? It didn’t make any sense. “Do you know where I can find him?”
The man nodded, rubbed his hand over his mustache. “Look, lady, I’m sorry ‘bout your friend, but if she got mixed up with Jonah, she’s as good as dead. You’d be smart to leave it alone before you end up just like her.”
He turned to walk away, but Marissa grabbed his arm, stopping him. She refused to believe Angie was dead. It wasn’t possible. “No, you look. He did something to my friend, and I’m not going to stop until I find her. If you don’t help me, I’ll tell the police you did it.” Marissa put her hands on her hips in defiance, hoping her bluff worked on him.
Grunting, he shook his head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Her hopes kicked into overdrive. This was it. Finally! Someone was going to tell her where to find Angie. And once she found her, Marissa was going to take her home and tell her how stupid she was and how she should never do online dating again.
“I promise to keep you out of it entirely,” Marissa said, a smile pulling at her lips.
“All right.” He sighed. “Jonah and his…brothers live just off the coast, on an island over there.” The man pointed toward a small island several hundred feet off shore. From where she stood, it looked like a pile of trees and not much else. “You can only get there by ferry, and there ain’t another ferry until morning.”
“Thank you!” She was so excited and relieved she almost kissed him. “And all I have to do is tell the ferry driver that I want to go to that island?”
He let out a gruff laugh and shook his head. “Nope. No ferry actually stops there. They go to the island behind that one. You’ve got to find a way from one to the other.”
Frustration built in her chest. That was the least helpful thing she’d heard since she started her investigation three weeks ago. “Is it possible to swim between the islands? How far is it?”
“I suppose. As long as the sharks and jellyfish don’t get ya first.”
Marissa wanted to scream. Every time she thought she was close, she got was pushed back several steps. “Is there any place I can rent a boat? I’ll just drive myself to that damn island.”
“Buck’s boat rentals. Tell ‘em Gus sent ya. Buck’ll take you out there, but you best be careful, miss. Jonah and his brothers aren’t friendly to strangers.”
“Thanks,” she said, sighing with defeat. “Is there anything else you can tell me about Jonah? Why do I need to be careful?”
“Aw, no, uh-uh.” Gus shook his head. “I’ve said too much already. Good luck to ya.” He hurried away before she could ask any more questions.
Folding the profile paper and shoving it back in my purse, she turned and headed back toward the hotel. Over the past three weeks, Marissa had traveled from New York to California to Costa Rica and now to Hawaii. Each stop along the way brought her one step closer to finding Angie. In Costa Rica, Marissa spoke to a woman who swore she saw Angie with a man. They’d looked happy, like they were in love, and the woman had overheard Angie planning a trip to Hawaii – which what led Marissa to the island.
Giving up on finding Angie wasn’t an option, but Marissa’s savings were quickly dwindling, and she couldn’t keep taking time off from work. Her boss was already annoyed with her, on the verge of firing her. If this lead didn’t pan out, she didn’t know what she’d do. She’d have to go back home to New York. But the thought of just leaving Angie out there somewhere, possibly hurt and in danger… That didn’t sit well with Marissa.
***
Marissa tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. All she could think about was that island and what was on it. She knew Jonah was on it, and possibly Angie. But there was something more over there. She knew it deep in her gut. But what? And why had Gus warned her off? The questions swirled in her mind on repeat, making sleep impossible.
Fed up, she got out of bed and retrieved her laptop from her bag. She powered it up and quickly checked her email, hoping someone had responded to one of her thousands of missing posters or online postings seeking information about Angie. But all she had was spam messages. Marissa closed out of her mail program and brought up a search engine. She typed in: Mohalah Island.
The search brought up a Wikipedia entry that gave geographical facts – size, flora, fauna, climate – all very unhelpful. She went back and altered her search to include: Mohalah Island history and legends. Within seconds, she had hundreds of thousands of results.
“Whoa.” She blew out a breath and rubbed her hands over her face. It was going to be a long night weeding through all of this. Making herself a cup of coffee, she clicked on the first result and started to read.
As she scrolled through the webpage, her eyes widened and the coffee in her stomach turned. With a shaky hand, she set the coffee down and leaned closer to the screen, as if that would somehow alter what she was reading.
“Legend has it that Mohalah Island is home to a species of immortals, vampires, that took refuge there after they were hunted to near extinction several hundred years ago. The thick, dense woods afford the creatures protection from the sunlight, while giving them the cover needed to hunt.”
Marissa sat back and gasped. “No way.” She shook her head. There was no way in hell vampires were on that island. Vampires didn’t exist. They were just urban legends, scary tales meant to entertain. But…
In a bizarre way, it made a lot of sense. Angie’s sudden disappearance. Her unusual attraction to a man she barely knew. The sightings of her. The way she went from one state to another so quickly. If Jonah was a vampire and he bit Angie, why hadn’t her body been found yet?
Marissa smacked her forehead. “He changed her,” she muttered. She abruptly closed her laptop and pushed it away. What was wrong with her? Maybe she was suffering from a severe lack of sleep. Or this search was making her lose her damn mind. Angie, a vampire? Marissa let out a harsh laugh. That was absurd. She’d find out one way or another tomorrow. She was going to get to that island, find Jonah, and demand he tell her what he’d done with Angie.
***
Carson stood in the dank basement of Max’s house, watching as the Master paced, worry tugging at his face. If any of them aged, Max would be covered in worry lines and wrinkles. Instead, he just looked constipated all the time. Carson clasped his hands behind his back, remaining silent and perfectly still so as not to upset his Master.
“Jonah.” Max growled. “You’re insatiable appetite is getting us in trouble.”
Jonah bowed his head and kneeled. “I’m sorry, Master. I never thought she’d be this much trouble.”
“Where is your newest acquisition?” The words hissed from Max’s mouth, causing Carson to suppress a shudder.
“With me.” Jonah’s voice held a hint of defiance, and Carson sucked in a breath, held it. If Jonah wasn’t careful, his immortal existence would come to a screeching halt.
Max let out another growl, this one more menacing. He kneeled in front of Jonah, taking the man’s face in his hands. “Have you taken her as your mate?” Max searched Jonah’s face. “Do not lie to me, Jonah…”
“No, Master. I have not taken her as my mate. Not officially.”
Shoving his face away, Max stood. “Well, you must. Right now. Either take her for your mate, or kill her. She has become too much of a liability for our way of life.” Max returned to his chair and sat, flicking his wrist at Jonah. “Make your choice, Jonah, or I’ll make it for you. Now, go. Get out of my sight.”
With a reverent nod, Jonah got to his feet and scurried out of the room. The heavy wooden door slammed loudly behind him, the sound making Carson cringe.
“Carson,” Max bellowed.
“Yes, Master?” Carson promptly stepped forward. Being the Master’s right hand man was both a blessing and a curse. It was nice to be in such a position of power, but with that power came a lot of expectations – expectations that if not me would result in the end of Carson’s existence.
“The woman’s friend is still searching for her. She’s on the mainland asking questions, getting closer.”
Carson froze. Not much could scare him, but the idea of being exposed – that was enough to make him quake with fear. He and his brethren had worked too hard for too many centuries to let it all get destroyed by one nosey woman. Jonah’s bloodlust and sexual needs had put all of them in danger more than once. If Max was smart, he’d rid all of them of that risk, rid Jonah from their ranks. But Max had sired Jonah, and Max hated to be wrong, and so he wouldn’t punish Jonah, not like he should be punished anyway.
“Find her.” Max stood and tapped on the door on the far side of the room. “And get rid of her. Change her if you must, but make her stop asking questions.”
So another innocent human had to die because of Jonah’s mistakes? But Carson didn’t say that because it would only anger Max. Instead, Carson nodded. “As you wish, Master.”
“Before she gets to this island tomorrow,” Max added as an attractive, naked woman stepped through the door. Max grinned, his teeth showing, glistening in the dimness of the room. “Now leave me to my dinner.”
Carson left without another word, the woman’s screams followed him out the door as Max tore into her neck. The last thing Carson wanted to do tonight was chase down some human and take care of her. He’d much rather stay on the island, feast on the buffet wandering around. He’d handle this, because Max decreed it, but Carson was going to have a little chat with Jonah about his recent behavior.
***
The following morning, Carson lurked near Buck’s Boat Rental, watching and waiting for the woman he was supposed to dispose of. Buck’s was a rundown joke of a business. No one on the island rented from him, and the place was desolate, so it would be easy to spot the woman. Plus, Buck was the only one crazy enough to bring anyone to Mohalah Island, and everyone around here knew better than to go to the island. Except for this woman, apparently.
Carson moved around the backside of the building, thankful the sun hadn’t fully risen yet. If his instincts were right, and they always were, the woman would want to get on a boat and to the island as soon as the sun made its appearance in the sky. And sure enough, as if on cue, a tall, thin woman with long, black hair approached the shack. She walked with perfect posture, head held high as if nothing in the world could sway her.
Show time, he thought. He stepped out into her view, and when he did, he stumbled a moment, taken aback by her natural beauty. She had the purest blue eyes he’d ever seen. She scowled, and her brows furrowed, causing him to smirk. No human had ever been able to make him smile like that for no reason, but she looked so damn adorable.
“Are you Buck?” she asked, clutching her purse to her side.
Carson noticed the subtle shift of her hand, her fingers curl around something inside her purse. A gun? No, she didn’t strike him as a gun toting woman, but it could be a knife or mace or even a cell phone. Oh, how ill-informed she was. He could kill her and disappear before she was ever able to utter a sound.
“No, I’m not Buck.” He kept his voice calm and even. He’d been sent here to clean up a mess Jonah had created, and it would be best if Carson took his time, gained her trust, and disposed of her quietly. No mess. No fuss.