The Chosen Sin (25 page)

Her breath came heavier in the quiet air of the room. She dragged the hand on her stomach downward. Letting it rest on her mound, she opened her eyes and raised her gaze to meet his. She dipped her hand between her thighs, keeping her gaze locked with his. With two fingers, she rubbed her clit. He watched in fascination as she caressed herself.

She gasped and arched her back. Alejandro reached out to cover her hand with his own, but pulled it away at the last moment. “Does that feel good,
querida
?”

Alejandro watched the slow rotation of her fingers around her swollen clit. Her labia looked heavy and he ached to lean in and take them between his lips. He wanted to nibble on them like candy.

Gently, he eased her other hand between her legs, to the entrance of her pussy. She spread her labia, giving him a glimpse of the heart of her. Then she dragged her fingertips over her entrance. Daria whimpered and her hips thrust forward as she unconsciously sought his cock to penetrate her.

Alejandro had to force himself not to jump on her and spear deep into her cunt. “One night, Daria, I want you to let me do whatever I want to you.”

She tossed her head. “I want that, too.”

“You do? Give it to me. Agree to give me one night. One night you totally give up control to me. Let me do whatever I want to this delicious body.”

Her eyes flickered open and her gaze caught his. “Yes.”

He growled in satisfaction. “Now . . . you want something to fill all that sweetness of yours?” He pressed her fingers inside her. They slid in easily, and she moaned his name. Dragging his fingers over her swollen flesh once, making her shudder, he forced himself to retreat.

She moved her hand and hips, fucking her own fingers.

“That's it. Can you feel all those pulsing muscles? That's what I feel when I'm inside you.” He paused and when he spoke next, his voice shook. “You're beautiful, Daria. You're so fucking pretty.”

She pumped into her sex, her other hand caressing her clit. Her back arched and she tossed her head as she drove herself closer and closer to coming.

Alejandro reached down and grasped his cock, stroking it from base to tip as he watched the erotic display before him. He wasn't sure how much more he could take before the tenuous grasp he had on his control broke.

Then her body went rigid and she whimpered, “I'm coming.”

He placed his hand over her clit and pressed down.

“Alejandro!” Her body trembled and the room filled with the sweet, sweet sounds of her pleasure.

Before her orgasm had completely died, he removed her hands. He eased his own fingers deep inside her, feeling the hot, pulsing clasp of her still-climaxing muscles around them. Then lowered his head and sucked her clit between his lips to massage and flick with his tongue.

Daria cried out, her climax roaring back to life. He rode her through it, groaning at the erotic flavor of her spreading over his tongue.

Finally, she quieted and lay panting, but Alejandro wasn't finished with her yet. He licked her sensitive clit and then laved over everything else, too. He pulled her labia between his lips and gently sucked.

Daria writhed on the bed beneath him, her hands threading through his hair, as he drank his fill of her while he had the chance. This taste of her might have to last him a long, long time. She'd agreed to give herself over to him one night, but with Daria, he just never knew. Alejandro groaned deep in his throat.

Dios
, she tastes so good.

When he'd satisfied himself, he didn't ask permission. He just mounted her fast and hard, pushing her thighs apart and sinking his cock deep inside her creamy cunt.

 
 
DARIA gasped and arched her back. Alejandro always made her feel so . . .
complete
when he was inside her. His cock stretched her so exquisitely it brought tears to her eyes and sent her body straight back to the edge of a climax.

He pressed his big body down on hers, his hands braced on the mattress on either side of her torso. “Alejandro . . .” She could say no more. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment as pleasure pulsed through her. Then he began to thrust and it exploded.

She gripped his upper arms as he slammed into her with long, hard strokes. Every one sent a lightning bolt of ecstasy through her and pushed her toward a second, shattering climax.

They came at the same time, their pleasure reaching a shared crescendo. The first time he'd made her come, it had rippled through her long and gently. This time it rolled over her like a freight train, leaving her wracked, spent, and hoarse from crying out.

He came down over her, kissing her mouth and throat, threading his fingers through her hair. “Daria.” He whispered her name over and over.

She buried her face in the curve where throat met shoulder. Closing her eyes, for a moment she wished he would never leave her body,
not ever
. Then as the aftermath of her climax faded, rationality flickered, and the thought faded away.

19

THE building sat in the far corner of the dome, set along charming cobblestone pathways lined with flowering fruit trees. It was small, unassuming, yet was a beautiful example of modern architecture. Here Sante had not gone retro. The pointed roof was all unbreakable glass, reflecting the light of the fake sun on this lovely fake afternoon. Likely, as all the buildings in the dome had, there were solar panels embedded in the glass. Outside the walls of the dome it could have been midnight for all Daria knew.

The bottom half of the circular structure was creamy white
restao
, a building material they frequently used in the Logos Territories to aid in relieving the excessive heat. Wide, long windows were placed at regular intervals around the building. To serve as a transition between the white restao walls and the glass ceiling was a wooden lattice overhang, from which cool grapevines twined and lush, vibrantly green potted ferns hung suspended.

Here, apparently, was Sante's headquarters within the dome. Here would be where she and Alejandro would gain coveted membership in Sante's inner sanctum.

Sante had sent a messenger to their room that morning telling them to forgo their work at the factory and to come here instead. It looked as if they would not be returning to their daily factory shifts ever again, a fact which made Daria a little disappointed since she'd never reached her goal of attaining entrance into the packing room. However, this opportunity might offer her other ways to snoop.

Hell, who knew? Maybe Sante would show all his cards to them immediately and they could wrap this gig up. Daria and Alejandro could take this place down, put Sante in jail, and she could get on with her immortal, bloodsucking life.

It had been four days since Sante had called Daria and Alejandro to his home. He'd waited such a long interval to contact them again she'd begun to worry their chance had somehow slipped through their fingers. Likely it was just that Sante was a busy man—people to kill, women to kidnap, slaves to traffic, that sort of thing.

Carlos stood at the entrance, smoking a long, thin Darpongese cigarette. The acrid smoke floated a long way on the normally pure air of the dome, fouling it.

As she and Alejandro approached, Carlos's mouth twisted into a bitter not-smile. “For the record, I think it is too early for you to join us. In fact,” he continued, eyeing Alejandro from toe to head, “I don't think some of us should have an in with Sante at all. It is a privilege and an honor to be accepted into this building. However, it is Sante who dictates membership, not I.”

“Well, thanks for letting your preferences be known,” snapped Daria. “You can be sure I made note of them.”

“Carlos, let them in,” called Sante from the interior of the structure.

Carlos gave them one last hostile look, then stepped aside to allow them passage.

They entered the cool, round room. The floor was of tan stone and covered with large area rugs. Potted plants stood at various locations, accenting plush, multicolored furniture with many throw pillows. Doorways led into other rooms at the back, and a large fountain burbled happily to itself along one wall. The wooden rafters above their head were home to a few vibrantly colored birds, which flitted here and there, the soft
whirrr
of their wings playing nicely with the sound of the water.

Daria wondered if it bothered the birds to see the sky above them through the glass ceiling and be forever unable to reach it. Maybe that amused Sante. It seemed like something that would.

The great man himself lounged on a bright blue and orange couch, gazing at them lazily as though he had no cares in the galaxy. He moved his hand. “Forgive Carlos. He has appointed himself my watchdog and he can be rabid in his protection of me.”

Carlos, who had entered after them, didn't argue with this assessment. He only took a place at the back of the room and settled into a gimlet stare at Alejandro. He wore a white shirt, open at the collar, and had his hand tucked into the pocket of his beige slacks.

Daria wondered what Carlos had hidden in that pocket, a knife? Carlos seemed the knife type. A thug. Although he was such an old Chosen and had amassed so much power over the years, he could probably kill them where they stood with his bare hands. Still, Daria bet anything he preferred to use a knife—more blood that way.

“We understand,” answered Alejandro diplomatically. Even though she could feel the tension in his body, he sounded relaxed. His gaze rested on the woman sitting on a nearby chair, the only other female besides Daria in the room. “Nice to meet you.”

“This is Eleanor Matthews. She comes to us by way of Songset. I know her through our shared blood mother,” Sante introduced. “Eleanor, please meet Valerie and Alejandro.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Eleanor responded, sounding anything but.

Daria would have speculated that the tall blonde was the woman Sante was in love with, if she hadn't recognized her as one of the inner circle following Sante the night of the party. She knew her name, in any case. Eleanor Matthews. She'd been in the file she'd received from the GBC with the information on all of Sante's closest Chosen. The ones he wrapped around himself like a warm blanket. It was true Eleanor shared Sante's blood mother and had been with him from the beginning.

Anyway, Sante's lady wasn't a moderately aged, moderately powerful Chosen like Eleanor. She was a succubare, if Daria's little trip to Sante's house that night had given her any clue. Unless, of course, that woman had just been a snack on the side. That was always possible.

Daria glanced around the room and searched with her limited psychic sense to find other bodies in the building, but came up empty.
Damn.
She'd hoped to meet the mystery woman today.

“Please, have a seat,” Sante said, motioning to the available furniture. “There are refreshments on the table if you desire something more than blood this morning.”

“Thank you,” answered Alejandro. They sat down.

Sante motioned to a bright red pitcher holding some unidentifiable cool drink that sat on a tray on the coffee table. Red glasses had been lined up on either side. “It's chilled blood wine.” Sante frowned. “Some kind of fruit flavoring, I believe.”

Daria shivered. She was Chosen now, but hadn't grown used to all a vampire's common dietary preferences yet. Blood wine was sought after in the Chosen community—blood mixed with wine and flavored with fruit. It was generally a very expensive refreshment. Something about mixing blood with strawberries or cherries made Daria's stomach unhappy.

Alejandro poured himself a glass and she relaxed, off the hook since one of them imbibed.

“I called you here so you could meet a couple of the people you may find yourself working with,” said Sante. “I thought I would put both of you on my staff for community relations. You're new around here, so it will give you a chance to meet people.”

Community relations. That didn't sound promising. She'd been hoping he'd appoint them to drug trafficking or something interesting.

“What exactly does the community relations staff do?” asked Alejandro.

Eleanor curled her long legs beneath her. “We organize parties and gatherings. Generally, we promote goodwill among our residents.”

Holy shuffleboard on the lido deck, they wanted them to be party planners? Teddy bears, honey making, and goodwill. What was next? Organized rainbow chasing and bubble-blowing contests?

Eleanor smiled at Daria. “I see your expression, Valerie. It will be far more interesting than you think. Keeping the long-lived and generally jaded Chosen entertained is quite a trick. You haven't been here long enough to discover all our various gatherings.”

“Valerie and Alejandro, my pet,” Sante broke in, “are sadly monogamous. There will be no playing for them.”

Oh
.

Eleanor eyed not Alejandro with regret, but Daria. She made a moue with her rosy lips. “What a pity. Well, give them a hundred years of the missionary position with only one partner and they might change their tune.”

“Eleanor, don't push,” Sante said in a reproving tone.

She studied Daria. “But that still shouldn't stop you from helping organize the fetes, correct?”

Daria didn't like the predatory look in her eyes, as though Eleanor might be inclined to try and change her mind on the issue. There would be no changing her mind,
ever
.

“Of course not,” Alejandro answered for them.

Daria nodded her assent. “We'd be happy to help out.” They had no good reason to decline and, at this point, they had to take what was offered. “It sounds . . . fun.”

“It's a lot of work,” Sante broke in. “We take the happiness of the residents very seriously. Bored Chosen are dangerous Chosen.”