Eternal Seduction
Authors: Mandy M. Roth
For bad boy vampire Kit, hiding among humans is easy; getting involved with one is another matter. But something about sensual Marcy entices him like no one else, human
or
demon. The one time they’d been intimate—and he tasted her blood—she pushed him away and left him wanting even more. Kit knows he’ll never be free from desiring her. The only option is to embrace his need and no longer deny himself the pleasure he knows only Marcy can bring.
Marcy moved, the sway of her hips calling to Kit as he watched from the sidelines. Strobe lights flashed and heavy, beat-intensive music pulsed around him. The smell of sweat soaked bodies and alcohol filled Kit’s head. He was used to it. Blocking out the unwanted was a trick he’d mastered long ago.
The club was crowded, more so than normal for a Friday night, and Kit wondered how many men would try to go home with Marcy tonight.
Try
being the operative word there.
He’d break any man who thought to touch what he’d found several months prior. When the free-spirited nymph before him had first made her way into his club, he knew she was the one for him. He could still remember the smell of her—woody notes blended with the scent of ocean air—assailing him, making him weak in the knees. She’d demanded his attention by simply appearing. When she’d glanced across the club at him, Kit had thought for sure his heart had stopped beating for a fraction of a second. The moment the corners of her full lips curved into a slight smile, he knew he was hooked, and that was dangerous for a man like him.
Deadly even.
Kit stared at her, wanting desperately to go to her but knowing he shouldn’t. While she was more than legal, she was too young for him. He snorted. Nearly the entire club was. Only a handful of the patrons were immortals, such as he. Of those, only two were over a century—Kit included. The rest were humans, out for a good time.
It was easy to hide among them. He could even be “open” with what he was, not that they’d actually believe him. It was hard to swallow the idea immortals existed among them. A vampire, pretending to be a human, pretending to be a vampire. No one would really bite on the truth.
Kit knew better than to get caught up with a human, but he couldn’t help himself. While hiding among them was easy enough, getting involved with one was another matter altogether. Certain aspects of his life would be hard to hide and to play off as anything other than what they were, side effects of his condition.
He clucked his tongue against his cheek, watching Marcy as she danced. Her hair, currently blond on the roots and pink halfway down, changed colors as often as her mood. Tonight she wore a barely there, bright pink halter top with leather bindings around it and a matching black leather miniskirt. The thigh-high, pink plaid boots she wore teased his mind with thoughts of just how long her legs were. Kit especially liked the way Marcy had black makeup, liner and eye shadow smudged around her eyes, drawing attention to them and giving them mystique and lure. Her heart-shaped face gave her an innocent appearance but the way she moved her hips said otherwise.
Damn, she is entirely too fuckable for her own good.
His cock throbbed, wanting to be free of his leather pants and sinking deep into Marcy. He wanted those smoky blue eyes staring up at him as he eased his shaft into her—wanted to see her expression as the barbells of his frenum ladder, on the lower side of his penis, slid along her sweet spot. They were evenly spaced, six in all. He’d had the set of piercings on his cock done to increase sensation for his bed partners. Plus, he kind of got off on the pain of having the piercing done. Too bad it was fleeting.
Kit licked his lower lip, paying special attention to the silver hoops to the right. He could almost taste Marcy’s sweet cream on his tongue. She’d given him a small sample, a week after her arrival. They’d found themselves thrown together and one thing led to another. The next thing Kit knew, he was kissing her passionately with his hand inching up the tiny skirt she’d worn. He’d raked his teeth over her bare skin, accidently nicking her and causing her to bleed. He’d tasted her blood that night and he’d never been the same. The minute he’d actually made contact with her heated core, Marcy had pulled away, ending their moment of bliss. He’d brought his fingers to his lips, savoring her wetness, forever committing the taste of her pussy to memory.
The man and whatever else it was he really carried deep within him would never be free from desiring her. She appealed to him on all levels. Something no one else had ever done—human or demon.
Kit could have mesmerized her. It wasn’t as if such a thing was beyond his abilities. No. He was the son of a vampire and a slayer union. Enthralling humans was as easy as drawing in air. Many a time, he’d taken women into the back corners of his club, drank from them while clouding their minds, making them think they were being fucked thoroughly, when in reality, he was handling his basic need—blood. It was something he required but not something he needed daily. Monthly was enough for his needs but every now and then, he drank just because he could and he liked the rush that fresh blood gave him. It heightened his senses.
His father had cautioned him, warning of the gifts he’d been born with. Kit had ignored his father’s lectures, focusing only on the power he had at his fingertips.
That was then.
Years and hard life lessons had taught him what his father had tried to spare him. Enthralling wasn’t the answer. Not if he wanted something real between he and a woman. He wanted that with Marcy. More than he wanted anything else in the world.
Besides, she seemed almost immune to the parts of him women normally swooned over. Marcy never got lost in his gaze. She never shivered under the weight of his touch. In fact, she pushed him away and left him standing in a state of need the one and only time they’d been intimate. Maybe that was part of the allure. The thrill of wanting what he couldn’t have.
No.
Kit wanted her equally as bad when he still thought he had a chance.
The song playing in the club was by a band Kit didn’t really care for but Marcy seemed to like. To him, they were rather mallcore-ish. Certainly lacking the hard edge he preferred his metal to have. She moved to the beat, her lush hips grinding with precision.
Kit’s throat went dry as Marcy thumped her body against nothing but air. He could almost feel her above him, riding him to the brink of culmination.
Focus.
He turned with the intent to get a drink. Spotting his longtime friend, Blake Torres, Kit knew he was in for a nonstop teasing about his infatuation with Marcy. Everyone but her seemed to figure out Kit was obsessed with her. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing yet or not.
Blake, or Torres, as he preferred to be called, lifted a dark brow and glanced out at the dance floor. “Planning on talking to her tonight or just staring a hole clean through her?”
Oh, he wanted to be in a hole, preferably any one of the three Marcy possessed. Didn’t matter which. He wasn’t a picky man. Just a horny one.
Kit brushed past his friend and motioned to the bartender. Within seconds, he had a cold beer in his hand and was slinging it back, gulping in hopes of quenching his thirst for Marcy.
It didn’t work. Nothing ever did.
Torres laughed. The sound was laced with power. Kit wasn’t the only male who called these parts home who was more than human. Torres had his fair share of secrets, as well. He didn’t question Kit and Kit made a point to avoid asking Torres anything too specific. Some things were better left unknown.
Torres fetched a drink of his own before coming to oversee the dance floor with Kit. Marcy continued her seductive dance, ignoring everyone around her. It was if she were lost in the music.
“You know, she is not what I pictured you falling for,” Torres said, taking a sip of his drink. “I thought you’d end up with someone more like you.”
Kit knew what his friend meant. He was certainly all around harder than Marcy. In more ways than one. Not only was he almost a foot taller than her and at least a hundred pounds heavier, he was covered in piercings and tattoos. She had a few miscellaneous piercings and if his guess was right, a few tattoos, as well, but she was in no way covered like him.
He’d gotten sleeves done some six years prior, coating both arms in artwork he’d designed himself. His back had a tattoo spanning from one shoulder blade to the other. His legs were free from ink for the most part, with the exception of his right calf. It had a sword through a skull on it, done back when old school was new. Nothing quite like waking up in a tiny, darken place in Honolulu with some guy with an oiled pompadour wearing a white T-shirt, branding you for life. A drawback of immortality.
Marcy pushed her chin-length hair back from her face, her gaze meeting his from across the club. Kit stiffened, his breathing grew shallow and his pulse sped. Only she had this type of power over him.
She’s a witch. An enchantress.
There was no other answer for it.
Marcy wagged a finger and gave him a
come-hither
look. He obliged, his feet moving of their own accord—not that he’d have tried to stop them. The only thing he could do was run with it. He handed his beer to Torres and didn’t bother fighting the lure better known as Marcy. By the time he reached her, his cock was hard enough to hammer nails.
She smiled, her lips bloodred.
Need slammed through him. No longer would he deny himself the pleasure he knew she’d bring.
Marcy turned, putting her body against his. Kit took hold of her hips and moved along with the music, pressing against her ass and gritting his teeth. She let out a sultry laugh. The sound rushed straight to his groin. He groaned, jerking her against him and narrowly avoiding coming.
Marcy closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of Kit against her. He haunted her dreams and tempted her waking hours. It hardly seemed fair. Such was life.
His skin was cool to the touch and her body was feverish. The combination was explosive. She whimpered as Kit ran the back of his hand up her side and under the halter top she wore.
Rocking against him, her inner thighs tightened as pleasure built deep inside her. The very sight of him nearly drove her over the edge of sanity. Having him this close was almost too much.
He lifted her skirt with his other hand, dragging his fingers up her thigh. Marcy panted, swaying to the music with him. If her dreams were right, Kit wasn’t a man to toy with or tempt but she couldn’t stop the pull he had over her. She moved against him, her body tense and her breathing off.
“K-Kit,” she whispered as his fingers skated over her nipple.