Seven Sisters, page 23
part #1 of World of Verdenian Series
My eyes shoot open, and I frantically search for the reason for my racing heart. Soon, it all comes back like a bucket of ice water over my head as my gaze meets another of unnatural red. I rear back, which only makes my swiftly beating organ intensify.
That conundrum disappears as I take in this ravaged soul that’s supposed to be my fated mate. Now that I can see him even with the sun already set, the moon is big and bright giving me the perfect view of him.
A long time ago when I was in school, in our history class, we were taught everything, including how witchcraft can be used to hurt, to destroy. A huge example of this was Hitler during World War Two, or more particularly, The Holocaust and what he did to the Jewish people. I remember one picture quite vividly of American soldiers rescuing survivors of a camp that doesn’t immediately come to mind. But looking at my mate, I can’t help but compare his emaciated body to those survivors. I think he’s thinner, exactly like skin and bone. If he wasn’t an immortal being, he wouldn’t be alive, or I suppose undead.
That’s when I realize that his red eyes, which had appeared tortured, are now livid with hunger. And when that gaze turns to my sister, I have little thought before I charge after her.
In seconds, I reach her and shove her to the ground. Before I can fend for myself, the vampire is on me. I’m shocked by how strong he is, considering he appears so weak, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m lost but to do whatever he wants, and in this case, he wants to make me a meal. That fact is proven when needle-sharp fangs plunge into my carotid artery.
The pain is excruciating as he pulls gulp after gulp of my sacred blood into his mouth. Eventually, the hurt dissipates as pleasure curtails it and flows through my body. I imagine if I were to ever experience the fogging sense of heroin this would be similar.
Utter bliss overtakes everything until I’m begging him to take more, to take it all.
And he does. He keeps drinking deep until I begin to slowly fall into a pool of unending abyss.
thirty-four
Chapter Eight
Ambrose
Hunger has been my longtime companion since the day I was reborn, but the need has never been greater than it is right now. It matters little where I find sustenance only that blood fills my mouth this very instant.
So, when the slender woman pushed away the curvier one, I wasn’t too miffed as I sank my fangs deep. As blessed sanguine sustenance filled my mouth, it was like finding God as I swallowed deep. My pulls grew stronger as I gained back my strength little by little. I was lost in a sea of red delight when a spark ignited in the depth of my soul.
At first, the light grew slowly until it began taking over every one of my senses. I was inundated with this girl’s taste, of course, but it was more than her blood. It was everything. I was overwhelmed by her smell, the way her silky skin felt beneath my fingers. Her tiny mewls, a mixture of agony and ecstasy were like music to my ears.
Then, I could see her in my mind’s eye, and my soul recognized her for what she was.
Instantly, I tore my mouth away. I had bitten so deep and took little care upon my shock that I had ripped a gaping hole in her neck that sluggishly emitted what was left of her life source.
In a frenzy filled with equal amounts of denial and regret, I licked at her wound desperately trying to heal her, to no avail. I could hear her heart beating slower as her life began to extinguish.
With wild eyes, I searched for the other girl, who was only now finding her feet, swaying as she did so.
“Who are you to her?” I rasp.
Confusion mars her features.
“Tell me who you are to her!” I shout.
She jerks but blurts. “Her sister.”
“Then you must decide for her. Decide whether she lives or dies,” I say but I already knew she was mine and I’d do whatever it takes to save her. “Do it!”
The words are barely out of her mouth when I rip my wrist open and force my blood to flow into her gaping mouth. She chokes on it, so I glue my ravaged wrist to her lips so she has no choice but to swallow.
It’s the longest struggle, and I fear she’ll never accept my blood until she finally does. I’m amazed by how relieved I feel when she begins to pull deep, as her skin flushes with color.
“There’s a good girl, take what you need.”
Her eyes flash open, and I’m sucked into the darkest depths, into a world I never knew existed. Flashes of beautiful landscape, of a homey cottage and a tiger-striped cat. I see my girl alongside her sister, and a handful of other women that I simply know are also sisters.
Witchcraft is something I never encountered in my long life until my entrapment. To see so many of them together making magic, creating potions, is rather eye opening.
Time flashes forward as a teenage girl with green hair tells my mate of my existence. An older, motherly figure tells her where to find me. It all comes through from their travels to pulling me up from the depth of the Atlantic.
My mate, the woman made for me and who also saved me, and how did I repay that?
By killing her and turning her into the very thing I had realized in my prison that I had never wanted to become. With nothing but my thoughts for company, it’s easy to realize every regret you’ve had. And I had many.
I swore that if I escaped, I would repent for every one of my sins, and I’ve already sullied that promise by destroying the other half of my soul.
Too late, I realize she had taken too much, and as I lose consciousness, I see her eyes blink open, mesmerized as she takes in her new world.
thirty-five
Chapter Nine
Hazel
My eyes blink open, but all I see is red before the pain begins. It’s excruciating as if I’m rotting from the inside out. I can feel my organs failing one by one before, finally, my heart seems to explode inside my chest.
The aftermath is bitter silence as my body fully dies before my skin begins to harden like porcelain. Each of my senses intensifies, beginning with my sense of smell.
I force my eyes open because I no longer smell the sea, but home. I’m discombobulated as I take in my room for the first time with my new eyes. Everything is so well defined; I can make out the thinnest crack from across the room.
Then, I notice my hearing. I can hear a mouse inside my walls scurrying away. That’s quickly forgotten when I hear a thud. It’s a rhythmic beating that calls to my soul and brings my sense of smell back to the forefront. It’s tantalizing, that smell, like all my favorite foods combined, and I realize that I’m ravenous.
My feet find the floor and absently carry me to my kitchen until I realize that smell, that droning beat is coming from my living room. I’m mindless as I rush forward to sate my hunger. Until my conscience nudges me and nudges me until I relent and realize I’m rushing toward my sister.
“Juniper?” I gasp.
Her eyes widen but she stands her ground. “Hazel?” she asks carefully. “How are you feeling?”
As soon as I contemplate that question, my stomach squeezes into the harshest cramp. I barely keep my feet as I scream out in pain. Juniper reaches for me, but suddenly, he’s there.
I don’t recognize him by how he looks, but my soul recognizes him as mine. He pulls me into his arms and everything in me settles as peace inundates me.
For the first time, I take in his appearance, and am in awe of his classic beauty.
It seems fitting, doesn’t it?
Considering that he numbers his years in centuries rather than decades.
Smoky gray eyes search my face with concern, but I’m too lost to answer any questions. Even my hunger is forgotten as I lose myself in him.
His jaw is severely squared, his cheekbones sharp. His mouth is the perfect Cupid’s bow, and I watch as it quirks up on one side.
“Do you like what you see, L’amour de ma vie?”
All I can do is smirk up at him.
Unknown to me my hands have been traveling up his body, and I watch in fascination as they crawl over his shoulders, up his neck before burying themselves in his short, graying blond hair.
“Kiss me,” I beg.
His smile widens, increasing the wrinkles around his eyes, but it only makes him more beguiling. It only makes me want him more.
He mirrors my actions as his hands discover my curves one inch at a time before he finally curves those slender, artistic hands around my face to angle me so his mouth easily slants over mine.
It’s not hesitant, but soft like butterfly wings that tickle over tender flesh. I shiver in his embrace, making one of his arms wrap around my waist and pull me impossibly closer.
One increment at a time, the pressure increases as if our lips alone can discover every nuance. And when I feel the wet heat of his tongue casually glide across the seam of my mouth, I can’t stop myself from gasping, giving him full access.
His tongue slowly seeks entrance, moving around my mouth as he discovers more before it twists around mine in the loveliest choreographed dance. His taste is divine, perfectly sweet, and savory like all my favorite flavors combined, and it deepens as our hunger for each other grows until I’m ravenous with need ten times stronger than before.
My eyes flash open as I hear the rapid beating of a heart that promises a plentiful source of what I need.
In a blind rage, I tear away from my mate and lunge for the keeper of that beating heart, desperate to sate my hunger.
Before I reach my haven, I’m trapped by arms that are too strong. I spit and hiss, uncaring that they smell like mine.
“No Mon petit monstre!”
I battle against him using every ounce of strength I have to reach what I need, but he’s too strong.
I growl at him. “Let me go! I need…”
“I know exactly what you need!”
Something plastic that smells of chemicals is thrust in front of my nose, but I don’t want it. I bat it away as I continue to struggle for what I want.
He growls. “Will you get out of here? She won’t stop until you’re gone.”
I’m blinded by hunger, so I don’t know if or when whoever it is heeded his warning until I realize the beats have diminished along with the tantalizing smell. I collapse in his hold as defeat erases any trace of my strength.
It feels like I’m dying, slowly but surely. My eyes slam shut, and I pant through my next breath. It’s as though the walls are collapsing in on me from all sides until I catch the faint aroma of something alluring.
I blink my eyes open to find that godforsaken plastic back in my face and immediately shove it away. I freeze once I realize the scent is emanating from that vile bag and immediately snatch it from his hands.
Blessed sanguine divinity splashes across my hands, and my chest before I can bring it to my mouth. With little thought to how I appear, I rip into the bag with sharp canines, red spattering my face as I suck in one big mouthful after another. I’m in heaven as I devour every drop until it’s gone too quickly. I search for more. Finding none, I lick the crimson from my hands until they’re clean. With my fingers I wipe it from my chest, my neck, my face, but it’s not enough.
I howl in agony. “More, I need more.”
Desperation lacerates every inch of me as I start to search for what I need when another bag is shoved in my hands. This one isn’t opened, so when I tear into it, most of it floods my mouth. But again it’s gone too soon, and we repeat the process several more times. How many, I cannot say before I’m mostly satiated. The hunger remains, gnawing at my insides, but I can push the thought away enough to focus.
To see the man before me, his face a mixture of concern and amusement.
“Better?”
I nod absently. “What happened?”
Before he can open his mouth, it all comes flashing back through my mind from the beginning. From Wren on my doorstep, to searching the deep blue sea and finding my mate, to him… My gaze shoots up to his.
“You killed me.” There’s no accusation in my voice. It’s only a matter-of-fact statement.
He nods once. “I did, Mon petit monstre, and I’ll forever hate myself for it.”
I step toward him bewildered when he steps back.
He sees my distress in doing so. “Please, I need space. I cannot think with you in my arms.”
Like the predator I now am, I stalk him. For every step I take, he takes one back until his back meets a wall.
“I don’t need you to think.” Smoky eyes travel all over my face, studying me.
“And what do you need, Mon amour?”
I don’t stop until my chest flattens against his. I listen as I feel our sluggish hearts sync as one. “I only need you.”
An unsteady hand slides up my arm until it cups my neck. Fingers squeeze around my throat possessively, enough to cut off air that I no longer need.
Suddenly, we’re flying across the room until I’m pinned to the opposite wall. His mouth opens over my neck, his sharp fangs pressing into my skin, but it’s not as fragile as it once was.
“You know not what you ask.”
I press against his hand around my throat, my mouth trying to capture his, but he’s stronger.
“Then show me.”
He shakes his head, but a beguiling smile counteracts it. “We’ll destroy your lovely home.”
I shrug. “Then we’ll build another.”
He chuckles, and it’s music to my sensitive ears.
His mouth slams down on mine. In no time we’re battling for dominance, but it’s the kind of fight with no loser.
I reach for the front of his shirt and rip. Buttons fly as I tear it to shreds. He mirrors me, and together we destroy each other’s clothes until we both stand wrapped around each other with not a thing between us.
The smoothest palms, like silk covering steel, caress every inch of my back before finding the cheeks of my ass and squeezing hard enough to hurt. He pulls, and I jump into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. My heated core rubs up his rock-hard cock, trapping the head between my cunt and his belly button. The friction is of another world, but I want more, I want everything.
I move up and down, but instead of capturing his thick erection, it slips free, making me growl. “I want it.”
He smiles against my mouth. “You shall have it.”
I bite his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, and dear goddess, if the blood in a bag was divinity, the blood flowing in his veins is sheer perfection.
I suck deeply until he pulls away, and I hiss in displeasure.
He hisses right back. “Enough!”
If that hunger can’t be fed, he needs to feed the other before I lose my ever-loving mind.
“Fuck me! Now!”
His intense gaze sinks into mine until I’m lost to anything but him and his will.
“Good girls are patient and wait for what they want.” I nod innocently. “Good girls ask nicely.”
I smirk. “Please, daddy, can I have your nice, hard, cock?”
His devilish grin grows. “Since you asked so nicely.”
He reaches behind me. I can feel the crown of him as he smooths it back and forth through my wet folds before notching himself against my opening. Without another word or thought, he slams home, making me scream out in equal parts rapture and pain.
“Ambrose!” I squeal.
He hushes me, trailing the softest kisses from the top of my forehead down to my chin and everywhere in between.
“I’ve got you, mon amour. Always.”
He holds still as my virgin body adjusts to his size, but I grow impatient.
With my hands bracketed over his shoulders for leverage, I begin to move over him. The pleasure starts small, like a whisper, as I grow more accustomed and needy, until I’m racing toward an orgasm.
I throw my head back against the wall. I hear it cracking, knowing I probably left a nice-sized hole, but I don’t care as I moan and scream my pleasure.
“Fuck, you feel good.”
“That’s a good girl, find your pleasure on my cock.”
I force my head up to meet his gaze. As my ecstasy grows, I can’t stop my mouth from plastering over his. He pushes his tongue in and out, mimicking what I’m doing down below. It begins with tingles running over every inch of my skin, as it slowly sinks inside.
My core is weeping an obscene amount of desire down his rigid length, making squelching noises as my ass pummels against his balls. I’m moving fast, clinging to him as the bottom half of our bodies jackhammer against one another.
I explode in utter amazement. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Like every happy moment of my life combined with the most amazing pleasure. I never want it to end, but eventually, the feeling dulls, leaving behind the loveliest ache.
He rips his mouth from mine. “It’s my turn, Mon petit monstre!”
In a flash, he throws me down on my sofa.
“Get on your hands and knees.”
I scramble to do just that.
Before I know it, he’s slamming back inside, and holy shit.
“Why does this feel even better?!”
He wraps his hand around my loose brown hair and pulls roughly until my back meets his front. My head is angled impossibly so his mouth caresses mine.
“Because I’m hammering against your G-spot with every thrust.”
“Don’t stop.”
“I’ll never stop,” he promises.
Once he’s had his fill of my mouth, he throws me down. I land on my hands, but he shoves my head down into the cushions.
“Stay there,” he growls.
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. Without the need to breathe, I shove my face in further. He grasps my hips, and with the fiercest grip, he begins to piston into my poor, abused pussy, but I’m loving every harsh minute. In a matter of seconds, I can feel another orgasm approaching. Unlike the first time, there’s no build before I’m exploding.
