Mortal Bite (Golden Vampires of Tuscany) (5 page)

Dag Nielsen, Supreme Dark Vampire Coven Leader hoped that the virgin sex
would calm his nerves. His specialty was deflowering young girls with his fangs
and then drinking from them until the urge grew so great he had to ram himself
deep inside them. Being careful wasn’t in his dictionary. He refused to alter
his behavior to become acceptable. He rather liked that people ran for the
hills or screamed until they passed out when he showed up.

His black Harley was waiting outside. Two members of his coven had parked
next to the Harley, trying to look disinterested, but he could tell they had
their ears tuned to the little closed window at the cheap motel, listening for
the kill bite, after the moans and eventual screams of passion from the blonde
waif.

She’d made the mistake of asking him for a little spare change in front
of Starbucks. He asked her some questions after putting her into an altered, glamoured
state, confirming that she was indeed a virgin, which surprised him. But she
told him telepathically she knew how to give good head, which was exciting. Dag
offered her a drink and a meal, and glamoured her a bit more so all she could
say was, “Please.”

“Please,” she said again as he licked her nether lips. He could still
taste the soap she’d used. He’d required she take a good, hot shower before he would
insert his tongue in any of her orifices. He licked her again. She jolted, and
then he tasted blood.

Calm down.
He was hungry for
her, but he needed a meal, not just a snack. And he was pissed off today, so
wouldn’t be leaving anything around for his bodyguards in the way of sloppy
seconds.

He inserted his forefinger in her anus and her eyes flew open.

“Oh, yes, you’ll like this. Just relax and feel my finger, Sheila.”

“Shirley. My name’s—ahhhhhh—Shirley.”

He pulled his finger out.
 
“Makes no difference whether your asshole is called Shirley or Shelly.
My thumb wants a taste.”

He inserted his fat thumb and she gripped the tops of his shoulders,
digging her nails into his vampiric flesh.

“Now we’re talking, Baby. Go ahead, try to hurt me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. I want you
to—“

He stretched her enough to insert two fingers into her sweet little ass.

“To what? Fuck you? That what you wanted?” He leaned over her, breathed
into her face and saw her eyelids flutter. “Sweet little Susie. You have a
lovely pink peach of a twat and a tight little ass. Please, my dear, can I
ravage your ass first?”

She was struggling with the answer. He could tell that her real self
wanted to say no, but her glamoured self couldn’t help but say yes. She bit
down on her lip. Hard.

“That’s my job,” Dag barked. He bent over and bit her lip, drawing just a
little blood as his fang moved over her rosy plumpness. His tongue had to work
to coax hers out of the black hole that was her upper palate where it was
trying to hide. He sucked hard, mumbling, “Mine.” She didn’t resist him.

They never did.

“Ahh,” she moaned. Dag noticed it got one of his guards’ attention as the
sudden head movement gave him away. The guard licked his lips.

Not today, lover boy. She’s all
mine.

He tried to send that message telepathically, but Dag was positive the
thickheaded dark vampire didn’t get it.

He refocused on his meal.

Taking his fingers out of her ass he set himself on her pussy. It was
swollen already and bright pink. “Lovely color, my dear Sarah.” He said as he
admired it.

She opened her eyes and released her grip on his shoulders.

“Did I say to stop that?”

“No, I just, I just like you licking me better than—than—the
other—“

Dag inserted his finger back inside her ass. “Than that?” He twisted it.

“Well, okay, but only one, just one, please?”

“Fair enough, my sweet. Fair enough.” He kissed her again, leaving her
tongue alone. “Only if you scratch me.”

She looked at him as if he were crazy. He knew he was, of course.

“Scratch you?” she asked.

“That’s right. Grab onto my shoulders and squeeze. Draw blood. I like it
rough,” he said.

“But—“ she couldn’t finish because he had laved her clit so hard he
tasted her lovely blood again.

“You want it in the butt?”

Her eyes flew open in terror. “No!”

“Then scratch me. Make me hurt. I promise, I won’t get angry. I’ll get
gentler the more you hurt me. It helps me come.”

She slowly nodded, disturbing her blonde hair where splayed all over the
white pillow, beckoning him like a mermaid under water. He willed her to look
deep into his eyes so she could see the danger there. She’d be delicious as she
feared for her life.

At first she frowned, but then, as the flames tickled her insides and she
appeared to share his passion for the dark side, her eyes became fixed, and she
grabbed his right butt cheek and scraped hard enough to actually drag a layer
of his skin under her nails.

Dag became hard as granite. He was impressed. He’d figured she didn’t
have it in her. But this new, sweet gesture on her part to cross the great
fiery chasm touched him. Perhaps she was worth saving, like the farmer who ate
his fabled pig one limb at a time, as the joke went.

But this was no joke. It was a reveal that someone mortal might be able
to share in his pleasure and live to tell the story. And she was virgin. No one
else had had her. How wonderful it would be that he would be the only creature
to have her. And he could do it again and again and again. Perhaps give her the
surgery, make her virgin again so he could rip that from her all over again.

She brought her bloody fingers to her mouth, and, staring hard into his
eyes, licked them. Her eyelids fluttered with the new energy his blood gave
her.

“Yes, my lovely. That’s it. Do you feel the blood on your tongue?”

“Your name.”

“Huh?” Dag wasn’t sure what she was asking.

“You have a name. I want to speak it to you with your blood on my tongue.
I want to kiss you while I moan your name.”

He arched back and looked down on her, cocking his head to the side. He
quickly surveyed the room, half thinking perhaps she was speaking to someone
else. He felt her heartbeat double-tapping his chest in a most unusual rhythm.

Her tongue swiped a pinkish swath across her upper lip. He could see his
blood covering her teeth and gums. She did not blink. Her deep blue eyes seemed
to go midnight on him. Her lips began to form a word.

“More.”

Dag felt his erection falter and then wither completely. She was not
afraid of him. Perhaps it had been a mistake to let her taste him.

“More,” she whispered again. She scratched across his buttock again. The
right side of her lip twitched up in an involuntary reflex. She dug deeper. He
found himself sighing into the pain. His dick responded, pressing against her
thigh, begging to claim her.

Her fingertips, covered in blood, painted her own lips, then reached up
and touched his. She pulled his head down to her and moaned as their flesh
touched. Her tongue found one of his fangs and impaled itself. He felt drops of
her blood cover his tongue. Her little core arched up against his cock. She
whimpered, and he found he loved the sound of her submission. Her total
submission.

He was used to the fear, the certainty of death in their eyes just before
he took their lives away from them forever. Their violent, terrified thoughts
fed his need not only for their blood, but also for the depth of their despair,
their fear. This little one was giving herself to him,
willingly
.

He brought his hand up to her face, expecting it to feel plastic, or
porcelain, or something not real. She had wispy strands of hair at her temples
where the golden curls were unruly. She bowed her forehead into his palm as if
she needed the blessing of his touch. She rolled her head to the side and
exposed for him her strong jugular vein.

You are virgin. Are you virgin to
the bite?

I am yours.
He tensed as he
heard her reply in his own head.
Take me.
Taste me. Master.

His fingers smoothed over her soft, creamy neck. He licked her on the vein
that rose up to the surface. She sighed.
Take
me.

His shaft was thick and pulsing. He had never wanted to be inside anyone
this bad during his miserable hundred years of vampiric life. He reached under
him and drew her right leg up and over his shoulder. He angled himself at her
opening, forcing the head of his cock just inside. She struggled to accept him.

She was so tight he had to force himself deep inside her. He felt the
skin protecting her virginity give way. Her eyes glazed over and she rolled her
head back, raising her neck to his mouth. He penetrated all the way to the
hilt, splitting her insides as he forced his way into her narrow channel. And
then he bit down on her neck.

The sweet elixir that was her life’s blood covered his tongue and
continued down his throat. He brought his fingers up and entangled them in her
golden locks, pulling her head up and over. He sucked as he dug himself deeply
in her trench.

Dag. Say it. My name is Dag.

“Dag. Fuck me, Dag. Come inside me. Take me.”

He had never heard a woman say his name before. He’d been called devil,
other names that thrilled him. But never before had he felt pleasure hearing
his own name spoken by the bloody lips of his sexual conquest.

She began to shake. He had drained much of her. Her skin was cool. She
was at the point where, if he continued, she would be dead to him. Truly dead.
Her lifeless body was the vessel he wanted to spew his seed into. His guttural
moans shook the windows.

After several minutes, she lay there with her eyes staring off to the
side, with practically no pulse or signs of breathing. Her skin was turning a
light shade of blue. Bloody saliva dripped from the corner of her mouth.

Her sacrifice had moved him. Suddenly, he didn’t want to be done with
her. In a totally selfish mood, he used his fang to slit his own wrist and
placed it to her lips. She did not respond. Her blue skin was turning purple.

Drink. Drink my blood.

He first felt the tip of her tongue trace the gash he’d made in his
wrist. Then her lips puckered and formed a seal around his wound and she
sucked.
 
Immediately her color changed.
Her breathing started in a rattled rhythm, then dark and deep. She rolled her
head back on the pillow and stared into his eyes. Her fingers, still covered in
his blood, laced behind his ear. His shaft shuddered inside her and she closed
her eyes, then opened them again as she moved against him.

For the first time in his life, he wanted to give a woman pleasure. This
woman, who had given herself to him freely. Of her own will.

She was putty for his soul. To do with whatever he wanted.

She suddenly became the most important thing in his world.

Dag told his men the little panhandler was dead and that he’d been
interrupted by a cell phone call. It was partly the truth, anyway. He was going
back inside to tidy up, and then they’d go run their errand, he told them.

“You want us to clean up?” The one with the thicker brow and thinner
forehead asked as he drooled over himself. Dag knew the cretin liked fresh
kill, as it would be the closest thing he would ever get to a warm-blooded
human female lover. And the dark vamp was cursed with more than the Neanderthal
forehead; he also exuded the mind-numbing smell. Some said it was like
fermented cabbage, or some shit humans liked to eat with their tofu.

On the phone, his watcher had reported a possible lead from a bookseller
in Prague. He had work he needed tonight to prepare for a possible trip.

Dag looked into the bathroom mirror just before he stepped into the
shower for a quick one. The towels were rough and cheap, and he made a mental
note to bring some of his own next time. Cheap motels were great for anonymity,
but not so good for the accommodations. But it had always been too risky,
especially since the purge was nearly upon them, to bring mortals to his own
inner sanctum and his own bed. Maybe it was time to change that.

He left his phone number for the blonde. He figured that once her head
cleared and she stopped her vomiting—something he didn’t like to watch but
which always occurred when he created a new vamp—she’d decide to try out
her new powers. Dag hoped she’d use him as her guinea pig. Was looking forward
to it. If he was right about her, she’d know that no one else would do. She’d
find him like a homing beacon on a drone.

The drapes were shuttered tight. The door scraped on the ageing step
sill. One last look at the lovely, sleeping lady, who had begun to pink up
quite nicely, lying with her legs spread, a sexy little trickle of blood coming
from her upper thigh. Her breasts heaved, covered in his blood, or hers, when
he’d devoured them, sucked them and covered them with his scent to claim her.
He could make her come with just one finger, placed anywhere now. And that electrified
him.

He sighed and closed the door behind him. Forcing his fangs back up into
his gums, he licked his lips one last time, and felt the lurch in his trousers.

It took a minute before he could look at his two dark cohorts. He didn’t
want them to see the satisfied lust in his eyes, or that he wasn’t nearly done
with her. It was God’s cruel joke, this miracle that made it so she would
regenerate herself, mixing the best of both worlds: her human side, which was
retreating in surrender, and her new vamp side, which was commanding her body
to change. In this half-changed state, the lady would be an absolutely stunning
meal, and the fuck of a lifetime.

In the old days, before the responsibility of Coven Leader had befallen
him—well, being totally honest, before he’d murdered his boss and
maker—he’d had long evenings of sex and orgies. Now duty called. It was
the one thing he regretted and hadn’t considered before he took that momentous
step.

He thought about
The Book of Spawn
,
the “Bat Book,” his mentor had called it. There were things in that book that
could end his race forever, and give dominance to the Golden Vampires he was
hunting down and killing daily. Since he had no intention of giving up his
existence without a fight, that book had to be found and eliminated. Much as he
wished he could spend time exploring the blonde’s beautiful body, scoring it,
mutilating it and watching the miracle as she regenerated, the future of his
power and dominion over the world for all eternity was at stake.

Even a world-class piece of ass like hers wasn’t worth that. If he
succeeded, he’d have centuries to enjoy himself later.

After he got rid of all the Goldens and their offspring. After he
completed his mission.