Viola Grace - Terran Times 06 - Violet Visions - Grape and Gravity, page 1
VIOLET VISIONS
BY
eXtasyùs Collective Mind
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Violet Visions
Copyright © 2007 eXtasy’s Collective Mind ISBN: 978-1-55410-765-0
Cover art and design by Martine Jardin All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by eXtasy Books
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Table of Contents
Violet of the Night Astrid Cooper Damson Rapture Evelyn Starr Everscape K. A. M’Lady Grapes and Gravity Viola Grace The Purple Heart Madeleine Grant Lorelei Astrid Cooper Servicing the Sheika Tianna Xander Loving the Sheika Bonnie Rose Leigh The Last Assignation Sean MacReady Private Dancer Lynn Crain Reliever Jojo Brown Saloon on the Moon Alexis Anthony Star of the Show Stone Richards Psiber Viola Grace Vylet Ultra Astrid Cooper The Artist’s Model Fawn Lowery Chaos D. J. Manly Twisted Ice Gabriella Bradley To our loyal readers…
VIOLET-OF-THE-NIGHT
By
Astrid Cooper
he hands were soft as feathers as they stroked along her T thigh, upwards, moving inexorably higher, then retreating, until after an agony of waiting, the fingers reached her purple curls. The fingers transformed into coils of water, thin slivers of iridescence that shimmered in the mauve light. The water spread over her, dipped into her, washing her every cell with silver. The arousal spread through her, the ebb and flow, like the waters of home, slow and thick like blood. She ran a tongue over her parted lips and moaned.
“Majesty.”
The word barely penetrated her fevered mind as the feathers stole into her body.
“Please, Your Majesty!”
Violet snapped out of the illusion, angry—angry at the interruption, angry at the thwarted sex. She had taken so long to prepare this program, to bring her to a peak that would last for hours—or so she hoped.
She opened her eyes and glared at the minion.
“Curse your grey-scaled hide, Garit. I told you I wasn’t to be disturbed.”
Garit, the mud demon, bowed, his peaked forehead scraping 1
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the ground before him.
“Yes, Your Magnificence, but this is a matter of great importance.”
“What can be so important that you would drag me from my pleasure?”
“A death, Oh, exalted one.”
“Death in the Netherworld is a common thing, mud-eater.”
“Yes, Your Majesty, but you need to come to the throne room and see.”
Pleasure was out of the question, Violet thought, as she tore off the red circlet from her head, severing her connection with the simulator. She stepped out of the shell-shaped dome and threw a diaphanous purple robe over her body.
Garit raced ahead of her, opening doors, and bowed her into the throne room.
Her ebony throne sat upon a raised pedestal and around it was another processor, the machine also shell-shaped—she craved all things nautical, to remind her of home, a world far away and long gone.
She strode into the chamber and halted, her gaze falling on the body lying on her purple and silver tiled floor.
“Who is responsible for this mess?”
Violet Night scanned the line of ghouls—cowards all. They shivered in their claws and refused to meet her gaze. The three demons stared back at her insolently, but as they saw the wavering conduits, like tentacles attached to her throne, they thought better of their defiance and bowed. When she was in a mood, the tentacles wavered and the demons made themselves scarce.
Violet studied the human corpse—she knew it for a human by its iron stink, but the body was badly mauled. The head hung by a thread from a lacerated neck.
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“Well?”
Doneto cleared his throat and her gaze narrowed upon him.
“We think it was a human,” he said.
“A human doesn’t kill like this.”
“This one does, Majesty!”
Violet smiled tightly. “Doneto might be only four feet tall,”
she said, “but he’s got more guts than the rest of you put together.” The diminutive demon beamed as the others turned jealous gazes upon him. “But don’t let my compliment go to your heads, Doneto.” “No mistress.” He bowed.
“And just why do you think a human did this?”
“I… er saw something,” Doneto said. “I was patrolling the alleys and I heard a scream.”
“You wanted a piece of the action?”
“The thought did occur. When I reached the scene, I saw this human on the ground, and another above him, using a scimitar to cut him.” “A scimitar?”
“Yes, mistress. And when he’d finished, he drank the blood.”
The silence in the chamber was profound. Deep. Still. Shock made Violet shiver. It was not often that she shivered. “He drank you say?” “Not prettily, like a vampire, but drank, yes. Then, when he saw me he ran off.”
“That’s not strictly true! The demon has delusions of grandeur!” A man stepped out of the shadows…no, not human, vampire. Violet caught the musky scent of the undead as he strode insolently up to her.
“Bow before Her Magnificence!” Doneto said, the bristles on his left head rising like the quills of a porcupine.
“I bow to no woman.”
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Violet felt her fangs pierce her bottom lip. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“That human was killed in the alley at the back of Midnight’s Bar.”
The Queen fastened her gaze on Doneto. “When were you going to tell me this?”
“I was getting around to it.”
“Hired help isn’t like it used to be,” the vampire said.
That was true. “And who killed the human?”
“It’s been dealt with.”
“That wasn’t what I asked. What is your name, vampire, and how did you get in here?”
“Like I said, hired help isn’t what it used to be. I got through the portal and dispatched the guards before they had a chance to scream.” “You killed them?”
“Strictly speaking, they were dead already.”
“Semantics,” Violet said, dismissing his words and his smile with a wave of her talons. “And what is your name?”
“De Vargas—Santiago Vallejo De Vargas.” He bowed. “My friends call me Val.” His black eyes were tinged with red.
“Well, senor De Vargas, to what do we owe the pleasure of your company? It’s not often we get a blood-sucker in my realm.”
“Charming to the last, succubus.”
“You arrogant bastard!” Violet didn’t know whether to rip him from head to toe with her talons, or drain him of his life essence.
“Arrogant—yes. Bastard—no! My pedigree is impeccable.”
Violet sniffed. Vampires were like that—fixated on their genealogy. “Then, for the last time, what the fuck are you doing here?”
“Saving your skinny arse.” He folded his arms across his 4
eXtasy’s Collective Mind
black dinner jacket and then craned his neck to look around her. “Well, perhaps not so skinny. From what I can see through that gown…” He licked his lips. “Tempting. I’m here on business and my business is to let you know that your security has been breached. Or was—this human got to within three feet of the portal. He knew about you, about us.” “And so, you killed him? For my sake?”
“For all our sakes. If he found out about you, then he knows about us, and there’s no telling what else, so I had him killed, but he had already killed this one.” He looked down at the corpse. “He left the body where it would have been found. One thing we don’t need is attention drawn to us, especially to the Midnight Bar. Hell’s Gates, if you were forced to close, where would the brothers drink?” “So much for your philanthropy!”
Vallejo grinned, exposing two white, pointed fangs. He was a handsome man—most vampires were, in a pale, unnatural sort of way—though his skin still retained a vestige of the olive tone of his ancestry, his black eyes…interesting. His black hair was slicked back from his face and hung like an ebony curtain over his shoulders.
“Doneto, I want the patrols tripled…any human who enters my domain, I want to know at once.” Violet paused. “I thank you for your diligence, senor. Perhaps you’d like to nourish yourself before you leave?” “Was I leaving?” His gaze swept the chamber and the demons and ghouls looked decidedly nervous. If a vampire couldn’t get fresh human blood, they weren’t adverse to supping on lesser game.
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“No?” Vallejo demanded.
“No,” Violet said firmly, her gaze piercing his. He inclined his head. “I can supply you with an elixir.”
“You have fendahl?” The vampire’s eyes shone ruby red.
“I have. I was saving it for a special occasion, but what the hell… I can always distill more. Follow me.” Violet turned on her heel and swept out of the throne room, her gown billowing around her. She didn’t wait to see if the vampire followed her—if the promise of fendahl didn’t interest him, nothing she could say or do would. She smiled to hear his light footsteps on the tiles behind her.
The door of her private audience chamber slid aside and she strode inside, the purple curtains parting before her. She halted at the ornate gold table and turned to him.
Moments later, Doneto scurried into the room, carrying a gold tray that held two gold goblets. She smelt the spice and honey and the distilled blood of centaurs and saw that the vampire also caught the heady brew with his senses.
Fendahl…as rare as a phoenix egg, coveted by all of the nether-realms—the vampires were particularly susceptible to the potent brew. She knew its recipe, and had brought it to this backwater world—with the result that she ruled as Queen.
She sat down on the sofa, and Vallejo joined her side. Doneto bowed and offered him the first goblet.
“Ladies first,” he said.
Violet smiled and then frowned as she heard Doneto’s light titter. The little pest was getting out of hand. “You have something to add, demon?” “No, Majesty.”
“Then take your ugly heads out of here. Leave the tray on the table, we’ll serve ourselves.”
The door slid quietly shut behind him.
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“Where were we?” Violet asked.
“I believe you were thanking me for saving your arse.” He leaned forward, and picked up a goblet and handed it to her. He took the remaining goblet and twisted it around between his palms. He leaned forward and savored the smell. “This is quite remarkable.” “I do try.”
He sipped the brew and then throwing caution to the wind, he swallowed the rest of the drink in one great gulp. “Ah!” He closed his eyes and trembled. “Excellent.” Violet sipped her drink, running her tongue over her lips to taste every drop. The fendahl coiled into her stomach, heavy, warm, spreading outwards like a climax, only this was better than any fuck.
Vallejo grinned at her. “Nothing is as good as a good fuck.
Trust me.”
“I never trust a vampire. The first thing you know, they bite you in the neck.”
“Naturally. I am true to my nature, as you are to yours, Violet.
You want me to seduce you. I sensed it the first moment you saw me in your throne room.” His dark gaze measured her. He reached out and ran a fingernail over her mauve skin. “Violet Night. Will you be my Violet this night?” She placed her goblet on the table and reclined against the sofa, resting her head on her hand. “I rarely take a flesh lover, vampire.” “You prefer to use your simulator?” He shook his head. “Pity.
Having a lover who knows what he’s doing is much better than any machine.”
“That I doubt.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“Perhaps.”
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“I like nothing more than rising to a challenge. And… I am rising for you, Violet. My cock is hard, near to bursting out my jeans.” “So I see.” Violet’s gaze fastened on the bulge—the significant bulge—and she ran a tongue over suddenly dry lips.
Her pussy, in comparison, was flooding with expectation, with desire, with…Hell’s Gates! With need. True need. Deep need.
Insatiable need.
Vallejo grinned and traced a finger down her cheek, over her throat, down her jugular, to the valley between her breasts. He leaned forward and where his finger had blazed a trail, now his mouth, lips, tongue, moistened and left a spice trail over her flesh.
Violet shivered. She twisted out of her robe, but he took the fabric and tore it from her body, sending it flying across the room. He knelt on the floor and opened her legs, putting her feet on the sofa, spreading her wide. He gazed hungrily upon her.
“You’re purple here, too.”
“Naturally. I am Violet.”
Val laughed at that and leaned into her, taking her pussy in one greedy action.
She twisted her fingers in his hair as he sucked, nibbled, and when she felt the first gentle bite, she drew his head back. “No biting, unless I permit it. Especially there, vampire!” “If I’m a good boy, can I bite you later?”
“I have never known a vampire who could ever be a good boy.”
“You haven’t met me.”
“No. Continue.”
Laughing, Val bent to his task with renewed enthusiasm and Violet leaned back against the sofa, relaxed, at peace, holding the languor for as long as she could, to heighten her pleasure. She 8
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felt a finger explore her depths, another, then another, delving, twirling inside her, while his thumb circled her clit. Mouth, tongue, lips, fang tips, worked on the outside, while fingers evoked other sensations within her. She moaned. She couldn’t help it. She rocked against his face and the first ripples of pleasure took her unawares. She came and he laughed and sat back on his heels.
“Take off your clothes, Vallejo, I want to see all of you. Now.”
“As Her Majesty bids.”
He slowly removed every item of clothing, teasing down the jeans. He wore no underwear.
“I approve,” she said. He seemed taller now, slender, but well muscled, and as her gaze traced down over the taut stomach, with its fine dark hair, she saw his cock, thick, red, rampant. The fendahl had that effect on vampires.
He scooped her up into his arms and sat down on the sofa, twisting her around, so that they faced one another. His cock tip touched her pussy. She grasped the shaft at its base and probed the balls with her talons.
“Ouch,” he said. “No scratching.”
“No biting.”
“Agreed, for the moment.”
“For the moment.”
He pressed his face into her neck, and she felt his fangs slide up and down her throat. She curled her fist around his cock.
Val lifted his head and took her mouth in a kiss that seared her to her soul…if she had a soul and that was debatable. His tongue merged with hers and they danced and parried and thrust into each other’s mouths.
“I want to fuck you,” Val said.
“What’s stopping you?”
“Permission.”
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She laughed. “Since when?”
“You are Queen. The last queen I fucked, without permission, she had me thrown in irons. Interesting, the irons. When I fucked her again, she made me wear the irons and when I put them on her, she came like a supernova.” Violet pushed down onto his cock and sighed as he slid into her, every magnificent, pulsing inch. He spread her wide with his flesh, his vampire heat scalding her. Never let it be said that a vampire is cold…when they are aroused—truly aroused—they burn like the sun, so the rumors would have it, and to Violet’s utter delight, the rumors were, for once, far short of the truth.
“Ah, harder, faster.”
“You want me to hurt you?”
“Yes.”
He lunged into her, pushing her to her limits and she wrapped her legs around his waist, fastening him to her. They moved as one, sighing, moaning, then screaming as their release ascended—they held the climax until the pain of holding it tipped them over the edge.
