Just One Taste (5 page)

“Oh God!”

“Ahhh.”

“Yes!”

The surprised cries reaching my ears sound full of intensity. Hips jerk forward in response while some of their knees give way. My silent moans are conveyed through my mate bond, which also enables me to feel the rigidity of Rafe’s need as well.

Your pleasure is so hot, liebling. I feel like I’m going to scream with my own need. Come find me and make it soon…
His face twists with his longing when he gently closes the link between us.

Never fear… I’ll not leave you hanging.

Even though he’s closed the link, I know my thoughts can get through when I try. The closing is more like a sheer curtain for privacy than an all-out solid door.

I raise my head, while pulling the protective circle away, to see women clinging to the person standing closest to them, while the men reach out a hand to steady themselves on the front desk or a nearby piece of furniture. Thankfully, no one loses balance or falls. That’s always much harder to explain away.

Having been the ringmaster to this little circus of pleasure, I regain my composure first, set about easing my guest’s minds of embarrassment while infusing them with contentment.

As I rise, Tommy meets my eyes over the heads of our guests and smiles. He knows something, but he’s not sure what he knows. I’m able to pinpoint who in a room enjoys an illusion, so he’s never had such an experience with my powers. Tommy’s participation in our world is closely limited by me, for his protection, which means he’s not quite sure of all I can do.

I walk over to the front desk, waiting for our guests to slowly come back to the present.

They all have soft expressions on their faces. None of them have realized yet that they have each shared the same physical experience. The most common reaction is to think it’s just oneself, or to think he or she imagined it all. The mated pair, Liam and Francesca, gaze adoringly at each other, sharing a sigh of contentment. The remaining two young vampires, Antonio and Joanna, almost shine with energy.

The glow of release with a mate is much more intense than what a vampire can experience with a non-mated partner. My big, strapping stud of a husband has helped me project an orgasm the likes of which they never knew existed.

The human companion, Olivia, has a dazed cast to her features. She reaches up and touches her neck, associating the experience with what
she
feels from a feeding. Right before my eyes, I see the vamps ease a little bit closer to the humans in the lobby. I’d be willing to bet some major magic will happen upstairs in a few minutes.

Damn, I’m good.

I head away from the lobby, pleased that I’ve had a chance to greet them all by name and shake their hands. I learned a lot in each little touch. The mated pair, Liam and Francesca, have been together a long time, about forty years. What she really wants is to finally rule
him
, but hasn’t had a chance to fulfill her inner fantasy yet. Liam, in turn, desires for her to be happy.

Domination is a pretty common fantasy I deal with here, hence the two dungeon rooms. Both rooms are outfitted with special silver restraints to hold vamps. It’s a big step in trust for most of our kind and I wonder if Liam has refused or if Francesca has not approached him with it.

Liam will be the biggest obstacle; he likes to have power and has trouble letting go. I will take them on a tour of the rooms on the third floor tomorrow and see if I can pique their interest without my input. If not, I’ll give them a nudge.

The rooms up there are just a delight, in an evil I-want-sex-now kind of way. The west wing holds room eleven, which looks like a Moroccan desert lair. Suite twelve mirrors an old schoolroom. Thirteen’s fashioned after a gym. And room fourteen’s inspired by the classic baths of Rome.

The north wing graduates to a bit naughtier; fifteen and sixteen are done up like dungeons; and seventeen sports the nickname of the “orgy room.” Oh, the fun those rooms have seen!

To the east, we have room eighteen, stylized after an English manor gentleman’s library, complete with dark wood, leather wing-back chairs and a fireplace. Nineteen looks like an Irish pub, and twenty resembles a nightclub. Not all rooms are the same size but are large enough to accommodate a good-sized group.
Those last three rooms are located over the pool on the main level. They are not normally rented out; these rooms are where the guests can mingle and interact with each other.

Rafe, love, what are you doing?

Afraid I might be slacking off, your highness, and you’re cracking the whip?

Um… no… I was hoping you could check with Tommy and see if we have anyone signed up for a tour of the fun floor tomorrow.

Yeah, I’ll check. Learn anything interesting with the guests?

Yes, I did, I’ll fill you in later. Going to check and see if there is any magic in the rooms yet.

Sure. You’re a horny little devil with a voyeuristic streak in you.

I smile at the thought his words conjure.

Maybe.

Gently closing the connection between us, I try to focus my thoughts back on the guests. I bet I’m not the only one who’s feeling like a horny little devil and perhaps that’s the reason for Rafe’s uncharacteristic sharpness. Built-up testosterone can do strange things to some men’s normally sunny dispositions. Keeping them happy requires frequent releases.

Antonio could be the type of guy who thinks he “needs” lots of releases but doesn’t take the time to have quality ones. My touch during our handshake revealed he is new to this seethe, only five years. His greatest desire had my stomach doing flips: He wants to fall in love. Antonio has been without a mate his whole afterlife.

The companion in this group, Olivia, craves him with every cell of her being. One touch was enough for me to see the depth of love she has for the sultry Italian vamp. Also a newcomer, she has only been with the MacKellans for a few months. Olivia set her sights to catching Antonio. He certainly enjoys what she has to offer, taking her quite often; the bigger question is why has he not marked her yet?

The last female vamp, Joanna, came here just to relax. She tagged along with the others out of friendship, having no hidden desires to fulfill on this trip. Joanna can’t wait to try the resort’s downhill and cross-country skiing, snowboarding, snowmobiles, ice-skating, and tubing. She plans to enjoy everything and rest by the indoor pool. I even see she’s contemplating a spray tan while she’s here to surprise the rest of the seethe on her return.

I head back upstairs to the second floor, past rooms two, three and four in the west wing, to see how Salvador’s party is doing. They came for a two-week extended trip. Sal and his wife Theresa come every year, yet they still have a honeymoon quality to them.

Their group indulges in the rooms on the third floor almost daily, even if only to mingle in the bar for a few hours. The time Rafe and I spend in the bar each night mixing with our guests helps us gauge who might need my particular brand of
guidance
. As on previous visits, Salvador’s group has not needed any help from us.

The smell of fresh blood from John Pierre has dissipated completely, thanks to our excellent filtration system. With luck, the new arrivals will think any remaining traces are deliberate, to whet their appetites.

At the end of the landing, I enter one of the reading parlor areas overhanging the lobby. Opening a secret door only myself, Rafe and Jonathan know of, I slip into one of the observation rooms designed into each floor.

We use them to listen and watch during feedings or to see where I might need to lend a hand, or a tongue, while projecting to our guests. In twenty years, we’ve had no violent incidents. True violence, not the love-hidden-in-jealousy type. It’s never come up and I don’t think it ever will. But someone must have felt something or we wouldn’t have a dead John Pierre chilling in the shed, right?

Too bad we never installed a recording system in the setup, which would have resolved the mystery of John Pierre and who killed him. Right now, the observation room links a bunch of closed-circuit cameras on a single monitor screen, with a mouse to toggle between rooms.

The thought of recording my guests rubs me wrong but not a little healthy voyeurism. How else am I to know where I might be needed?

I wake the system and click room two.

No one there.

Move to room three.

Oh, lots going on there.

It all looks good. Is that an elbow? Everyone seems quite happy so I move on down the line. Room four… hmm… now what is this? Looks like—yes, I think it’s Sheba. She’s one of Salvador's companions. She appears to be crying. I send out a wave of calm while watching. Sheba takes a deep inhale then straightens. I’m not sure what’s going on there; I’ll need to check on her later.

A few more clicks change the picture to room seven. Liam and Francesca seem to be getting it on in a big way. I
knew
the warm-up in the lobby would get some blood moving. I leave them to it and venture on to room eight. Lo and behold, I’ve struck pay dirt. I catch the end of the stunning Antonio stripping down nude.

Oh, he’s the reason these cameras are just golden. My, my, my, he’s just a long drink of water now, isn’t he? His body could pass for a carving of Adonis—all hard edges and sculpted muscles. Knowing he’s undead, he must have looked like this before his change. I can see why his maker chose him; anyone would be hard pressed to ignore the perfection of his body, once revealed.

Staring at the glorious form of Antonio makes me think of Rafe again. He’s never far from my thoughts. Figuratively and literally.

Rafe, honey, you still hot and ready?

What do you think?

I’ll be done soon and coming to get you…

A growl of anticipation filters through our connection.
Bring it on, I’m ready.

He leaves me wondering where he might be. My husband’s talent at blocking me improves with use and I couldn’t place exactly where he’s located this time. It could be because I’m distracted by the flesh displayed on the monitor.

Judging by the fastidious actions to fold his soiled clothes, I bet he’s going to go wash up to remove the remains of his earlier lobby orgasm from his body. I relax, imagining his scent filling my nostrils: musky, sexy and dark. A pure delight to my nose. Moisture starts to slip from inside me again, coating me in wetness. I impulsively decide to project a waking dream to the unsuspecting Antonio. The live video feed will show the exact moment he starts to feel my images take hold in his mind.

He becomes fully aroused in the span of a few heartbeats, thickening and rising from his groin right before my eyes. He’s a delicious piece of masculinity, which encourages my fingers to reach down and grab the hem of my dress. This time though, I’m not going to get him off. He deserves a tease.

I send an illusion of a woman on her knees in front of him. The blond hair will remind him of Olivia, but I don’t add clear features so he can’t place the face.

Antonio shakes his head as though in a daze but still reaches a hand out to guide the woman’s head closer. I push the feel of a wet mouth encircling his swollen head, triggering a loud groan of appreciation. The blond dream girl starts to pump, slowly at first, then with increasing speed and tempo. She slows to lick at his hard length, trying to give a proper tongue lashing, but he presses his hips forward, wanting none of it. He appears greedy for another release, so soon after his first one in the lobby. Interesting.

I work my dress up my thighs but don’t go any further. I know my own limits and want to save myself later for the hunt. If Rafe tries, he can feel the blood rushing through my system and what I’m seeing on the screen. The thought turns me on more, forcing a grunt of frustration from my lips, followed by a squirm on the hard chair. I still manage to keep my hands in place, but damn, it’s hard.

Focusing again on the screen, I see Antonio appears lost in the moment. I project Olivia’s name in his mind as the woman at his feet disappears. His head whips up to search the room. Antonio’s whole body throbs with desire. He looks momentarily caught off guard, confusion clear on his visage.

Sitting back, I watch to see what he’ll do.

His chest muscles rise and fall as he labors to steady himself. Antonio’s head whips toward the door. He bolts into the bathroom with his dirty clothes in hand. A split second later, Joanna enters with her bags.

Damn, that was a close one. I forgot they only had three rooms between the five of them. I stop my meddling for the moment to go check on room four as I’d originally intended.

By the time I rearrange my clothes, curse myself for getting worked up again so fast, and trudge down the hallway, room four stands empty. No Sheba. Let’s hope she wandered off to talk to someone to get past the tears. I’ll check again later to be sure.

Having nothing to distract me any longer, I turn my thoughts to a hunt. My body craves to be filled and a little distance from this new group would be prudent. The scorching inner desire to play with them runs rampant in me, but the long evening will give me plenty of time for such indulgences.

I close my eyes in the hall, allowing the whole hotel to come into sharp focus in my mind.

Where would my husband be? I sniff the air, hoping to scent him. Wandering through the north wing, I try to pick up his trail from earlier. The smell takes me down past the lobby through a hall, which leads to an exit heading to the shed. My vamp senses are on high alert, enabling me to make it all the way down the stairs and to the door without opening my eyes.