Angel at Dawn (43 page)

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Authors: Emma Holly

Tags: #Ghost stories, #Vampires, #Horror, #Paranormal, #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal romance stories, #Motion picture producers and directors, #Occult fiction, #Ghosts, #Occult & Supernatural, #Love stories

BOOK: Angel at Dawn
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“Christian,” she said, her voice shaking on his name.
“You’re mine,” he said, loving her sensual shudder. “Any way I want you.”
She squeaked when he flung up the layers of her skirt, and again when he wrapped his fist in her panties to tear the cloth away.
“Better hold on,” he said, his grip like iron on her knees.
There were no more protests as he latched his mouth firmly on her sex, only half-swallowed cries. He had his tongue to play her, and the curve of his fangs. Grace squirmed and sighed and clamped her lovely thighs tight around his ears. Christian massaged their muscles with loving hands.
“You’re the only one for me,” he growled into her.
To his delight, she didn’t have the breath for a snappy comeback. She arched and groaned as he took her clitoris delicately into his mouth, cushioning it on his tongue as he gently sucked. The hardness of his fangs pushed on her but didn’t cut, providing an edge of danger he’d learned she liked. For his own sake, he slid his hands up to squeeze her breasts. He couldn’t doubt she liked the way he thumbed her nipples. It wasn’t long before her pussy quivered on the verge of bliss, her fingers thrust deep into his hair.
They weren’t strong enough to stop him when he pulled back from her.
“Bad,” she panted, glaring at him. “Leaving me on the edge.”
“You’ll like it all the more when I’m nice later.”
He was crawling up her as he said it, letting her know
later
was coming soon.
“You’re setting a bad example,” she warned.
He’d have taken this more seriously if her hands hadn’t been stroking greedily down his chest. She loved touching him and, Lord knew, he loved her doing it. She found his cock again and fondled it, her knees scissoring auspiciously up his sides. He was congratulating himself that everything was as it should be when a sudden and very interesting pressure on his sexual organs made him grunt and lift at the hips.
She wasn’t fondling him now. Her thumb and middle finger had pinched his foreskin together, tugging it past his erection’s head. Her other hand enclosed the base of his scrotum, which she pulled lower between his legs. Despite his experience, this wasn’t a sensation he was familiar with. The firm two-way stretch created the impression that his dick had grown ten feet long.
To make matters worse, the knuckles of the fist that gripped his sack were pushing on his perineum. By now, Grace knew what this did to the multitude of nerves between his balls and anus. It was no accident when her knuckles rolled harder.
“Grace,” he said, more breathless than he was accustomed to. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“Really? I’m pretty sure it is.”
He would have laughed if he could. “You know I don’t want to hurt you if my hungers get out of hand.”
Apparently unimpressed, she slid her knees farther up his sides. “When has that ever happened, love?”
For all his private claims that he was in charge, he really couldn’t resist her boldness. At the least, he couldn’t resist the evidence that she wanted him. He groaned as his fingers slid into the cream running through her folds, led onward like magnets to the satiny swell of her clitoris. The frantic beat of its blood enchanted. When he rubbed it inside its slippery hood, Grace flushed but didn’t look away.
“All that wetness is for you,” she said.
Their gazes held from inches apart, his cock jolting in the stretching grip she still had on it.
“You know what I have for you,” he rumbled.
She smiled and guided what he had to her opening, finally releasing the pinch she’d taken on his foreskin. His glans buzzed with sensitivity at its sudden freedom. With equally perfect timing, her fingertips slid down his shaft as he breached her gate. The incredible feelings assailing every part of his cock compelled him to grit his fangs.
“God,” he burst out as his big crest squeezed in and throbbed. “I’d like to cram everything I am inside of you here.”
Grace arched underneath him, setting off more sweet stabs of sensation. “Remember how when I was a ghost, how I used to push my energy into you?”
He remembered so well his temperature shot up. He grabbed the metal frame that attached the nearest seat to bolts in the floor. He reminded himself not to break it, just use it for leverage. Grace’s hips pitched toward him as his cock moved deliciously into her.
“Is that what you want?” he asked, quivering almost as much as she was. “For me to play those tricks back on you?”
She nodded, her earnestness so dear he hardly knew how to reward it. “I want to let you inside me every way I can.”
His eyes teared up from the frightening intensity with which he desired her. In some ways his need was worse than before he’d known what it was to lose her, but in others it was better. He appreciated her as his mortal self hadn’t known how to. Overcome, he nuzzled her neck. What had he done to deserve a partner as sweet as her?
Sensing the vehemence of his feelings, Grace tugged him back by the hair. “Don’t bite me yet,” she pleaded. “Try to join us together first.”
He told her yes with his eyes. He worked one hand under her bottom, needing the hold to get fully in. He drew one breath to brace himself, then shoved. Pleasure exploded as she engulfed him, nearly driving him past the edge. She must have felt it, too. They both cried out, each heaving toward the other to get closer.
He wasn’t in the best state for concentration, but with her warmth clasped tight around the killing ache of his cock, he tried to do as she asked. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He told himself he knew how to penetrate her with his aura. He only had to focus and want to. Grace licked his throat and kissed her way up his jaw. The gentle nip she gave his chin was precisely the kind of foreplay
upyr
were fond of. The distraction proved unexpectedly useful. Christian’s instincts took over from his brain. When he caught her mouth and drove his tongue into it, his energy smashed over hers in a wave.
She wasn’t lying about wanting to let him in. His skin prickled with the flimsiest resistance before he pierced the veil between them.
Christian lost his breath. Their auras wove together in sinuous liquid currents, as warm as fire but less solid. Over and around their bodies the streams twisted, stroking them inside and out. The places the energy brushed were outrageously erotic.
“Ohh,” Grace sighed, her hands sliding up his back to stir long tingles. “Oh, God, Christian.”
He couldn’t hear her thoughts even then, but he felt the part of her that lay beneath them, the essence of who she was as a human being. He wasn’t certain words could have described her, though his mind did try. She was sweet. She was stubborn. She was a little frightened of the world but courageous in spite of it. She was everything he wanted in a woman. Someone to need him. Someone he could trust enough to let himself need her.
The bond was close to the one required to change a mortal, except their flesh hadn’t yet dissolved. By that measure, they were still very physical. Their bodies undulated with increasing fervor, craving a culmination for their sensual torment. Christian thrust longer, harder, with a deliberation of movement that converted every stroke into sheer delight. Vowing to give her everything she wanted, he tightened his grip on the chair, his other hand covering her bottom. His spine stretched, lengthening the range of his hips’ fulcrum. Noises of longing broke from her throat. The force he was using pleased her. His energy was making her stronger.
This was the shadow of what she’d be when she was
upyr
.
He adored it, both the differences between them and the similarities. Maybe the ten years she wanted to stay human would have their perks. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his shoulders as she matched the impetus of his drives. She was growling with her need for him, as much of an animal as he was.
The only limit on their lovemaking was not shaking the plane from the sky.
“Chris,” she panted, the little nickname that drove him crazy. Her legs climbed higher, muscles bunching, feet bracing on his butt to pull every millimeter of his cock into her. She was so open he could have cried.
When he hit the deep spot that she liked best, her graceful neck arched back. That last display of surrender was it for him. His climax spumed as he punched his fangs into her and fed.
Her blood was a drug that saved and destroyed him, sparking down his nerves until every one caught fire.
Naturally, the pleasure hit her at the same time. She clutched him with all her strength, coming helplessly around him, her own aura bursting bright and hot through his. His hair stood on end as the orgasm went on and on, a shared bombardment of ecstasy. Messages flew at him from all directions, from prick and pussy, from balls and clit, from sweating skin that longed to rub itself against every inch of her. As if she could indeed read his mind, Grace drove one finger into him from behind. Shards of bliss rained outward from this new spot of stimulation. When she rubbed it, just as he’d once done to her, pleasure flung his head back from drinking her. Compelled by needs he couldn’t control, his hips drove inward for one last plunge.
The brutality of the union was what they’d both wanted. Christian echoed Grace’s gasp for oxygen, his scrotum tightening as he spilled into her one more time from some reservoir he hadn’t known he had. The flood ran out of her in a hot torrent, too copious to contain.
For a long sweet time, neither of them could speak.
He did manage to roll until she lay above him, her body relaxed and warm and—to his amazement—still substantially clothed. She sighed as she exhaled, the sound incredibly comforting. He’d pleasured her as deeply as she had him.
“Wow,” she said at last, breathlessly. “Is this what I can expect from the next two weeks at your ranch?”
Christian stroked the tousled waves of her deep red hair. “The next two centuries, if you wish.”
Grace’s mouth curved coyly against his chest. At some point during their mutual madness,
she’d
torn his shirt open. Now her fingers drew a teasing trail around one nipple.
“You know what I think?” she said. “I think ten years of being human will have its perks.”
Great minds certainly thought alike. He laughed until his chest shook, until she pushed upward onto her elbows and quirked her brows at him. Even then, he couldn’t contain his joy.
Christian Durand was finally, fully glad he was a vampire.
I Was a Teen-Age Vampire
I WAS A TEEN-AGE
VAMPIRE
story by
Adam R. Chelsea and Grace Michaels
CHARACTERS
GEORGE PRYOR: Vampire. Current head of a violent motorcycle gang. This power-obsessed patriarch feels threatened by his son’s approaching manhood.
 
JOE PRYOR: George’s teenage son. Like his father, Joe is a “born” or hereditary vampire. Unlike his father, he wants to lead a normal life—go to high school, have a girlfriend, not follow in his father’s footsteps terrorizing a town.
 
MARY REED: Shy and pretty human Mary Reed recently moved to Haileyville, where her pompous, ineffectual father has taken over a drugstore. Mary now attends Joe’s school. Her self-involved mother uses migraines as an excuse to shirk taking care of her family. As a result, Mary has no strong adult role models. She must decide how she should grow up.
 
DELIA and GREGORY REED: Mary’s parents.
 
THE FANGS: The members of the Fangs are all “made” vampires, which is less prestigious than being “born.” Made vampires burn in the sun. Born ones can go out in it. Under George’s leadership, the Fangs extort protection money from businesses in town. They divide into: PHILIP, MATTHEW, and CHARLIE (who are friends to Joe) and BONEHEAD, GROWLER, and MACE (who are George’s sycophants).
 
UNCONSCIOUS GIRL: The Fangs’ victim
 
Various STUDENTS, POLICE, TOWNSPEOPLE, and TEACHERS
 
TITLES RUN as the MOTORCYCLE GANG roars into the old-fashioned town of HAILEYVILLE. A huge full moon illuminates beefy GEORGE PRYOR, riding lead with his goggles on. His maniacal fangy grin instantly says what sort of villain he is. The gang surrounds a SHOPKEEPER who is taking out the trash in his ALLEY. The bikes circle him in the confined space as if he’s a calf they’re herding. Through pantomime from George and the gang, we conclude the man is behind on his protection payments. No dialogue is heard during the confrontation, only the growling of the motorcycles and dissonant jazz-type music. The shopkeeper offers money but not enough. Incensed but also eager to do violence, the gang begins to beat up the man. Effects underscore the vampires’ unnatural strength and speed. As the thrashing intensifies, JOE seems to be urging the others to rein in their aggression. He isn’t particularly successful, though close-ups on the various gang members’ expressions show who might be for or against him. The shopkeeper collapses in the alley behind his store, his face battered monstrously. A bite mark with two punctures shows on his forearm. Joe offers him a hand up, but the victim recoils in terror. Some of the gang members mock Joe for his softness. Clearly torn, Joe turns his bike and reluctantly rejoins them.

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