Nectar: DD Prince (6 page)

Vampires are real.

What? Get the fuck outta here!

Nope, they’re real and they don’t need permission to enter your house or to enter your vag with their very huge cocks of steel. They can tolerate exposure to sunlight. They don’t sparkle but they’re fucking gorgeous with glow-in-the-dark eyes. They have super sex skills and smell and taste like dessert. Then, after they fuck you and find brand spankin’ new erogenous zones you didn’t know you had, the g-spot is not a myth by the by; then they drink your blood, of course, duh --- they’re vampires, but wait…guess what else they do? They hold you until you fall asleep and then run you rose petal bubble baths!

Kyla, you have totally lost it, girl!

Kyla really missed having girlfriends like that. She had a few sort-of friends that she’d made since moving here but they were all kept at arm’s length and she’d purposely avoided her old friends for very specific reasons.

He studied her face for what seemed like a long time. She felt so scrutinized, so self-conscious. He was a vampire who had used some super sex hypnosis on her and screwed her brains out last night and drank her blood.  He had done what he said he was going to do. So what now? Would he kill her? Could she convince him that she’d be no threat to him if he let her go?

She was sitting in a whirlpool tub filled with bubbles and rose petals, one of the most romantic settings she could imagine with the most gorgeous guy she would probably ever lay eyes on, watching him stare at her with a perplexed look on his face. He picked up a petal from the water and sniffed it, continuing to look at her.

“You smell better,” he murmured softly. She flushed scarlet but refused to look away. Moments passed and Kyla felt increasingly uncomfortable in her own skin. But underneath the surface of her skin something weird was happening. Something inside her veins. It was like her blood was heating up.

“Do I have two heads?” she spat out, suddenly feeling anger cresting and taking over the fear. She didn’t know if challenging him was incredibly stupid or not but the dam of her tolerance had evidently burst. He continued to stare intently, unnervingly, at her.

“Okay, well you got what you wanted, blood
and
fucking, so now can you please give me my things back and let me go? Call me a cab?”

He shook his head at her, “Call you a cab?” his expression changed and he seemed incredulous at the very idea.

“You have my word already. I said I wouldn’t tell anyone. I don’t make promises lightly. Now please.” She folded her arms and stared at him and then motioned her chin toward the door. He reached into the water and touched her thigh, about to speak. She kicked at him.

“Out. I need privacy so I can get out of this tub. Go call a cab for me?”

“Go call you a cab?” he regurgitated her words like they were the most preposterous thing he’d ever heard.

She huffed, pushing droplets of water off her face while trying to shield her nakedness.

“Get out! Let’s discuss this in the other room, when I’m dressed. When you’re dressed.”

“I ran this bath for myself. You just happened to agree to hop in with me. I’m not ready to get out.” Now he was smirking.

Kyla sank further under the fast-disappearing bubbles. He continued to stare at her, smiling, but seeming to be searching her face for something and shaking his head ever so slightly, as if bewildered.

“Tristan!” she exclaimed and splashed water at him.  His face changed, then, from amused to something else, something Kyla couldn’t work out before he lunged at her, sending water over the top of the tub and onto the floor. He caught her mouth with his and started to hungrily kiss her. He tasted like coconut cream pie.

“I love how my name rolls off your tongue,” he whispered huskily against her lips, “Give me that tongue…”

She cried out in frustration. He had her pinned against the side of the tub. She struggled against him and tried to push him off. He was having none of it. She splashed and sputtered as the water rose up and she sank underneath him, her head going underwater briefly. He hoisted her up out of the tub and carried her into the bedroom, both of them dripping wet. She started to squirm and pound her fists against his chest while sputtering.

“No! What’s wrong with you? P-put me down.”

Mr. Sex-on-Legs carried her, his eyes full of amusement. He looked like he was enjoying every minute of this.

“You’re a fucking barbarian!”

Suddenly, she
was
down on the bed. She dashed away from him and gave him the slip. She ran, sopping wet toward the door. She heard the lock thunk, as if it’d been locked from the outside.

She yanked on the doorknob and let out an audible sound of exasperation.

“Who’s out there?” she yelled, “Help!”

Somehow he was already soundlessly right behind her, “No one is out there,” he whispered this into her ear.

“Get away from me you barbarian!”

He caged her in with his arms and pinned her against the door with his hips and she could feel his hard cock against her lower back, “No escape,” he said in a low and menacing voice and then let out a little chuckle.

She tried to duck under his arms and get away from him but he picked her up, as if she were his bride being carried over the threshold, and headed back toward the bed.

She slapped his face. He didn’t even flinch. He almost seemed like he liked it.

“Put me down, Tristan!”

Down on the bed she went and he was instantly on top of her, guiding her back against the cushions, caging her in with his arms once again. They were both slippery, she still had bubbles on her body, and she felt panic spike at the intensity on his face,

“Not a barbarian; just a bloodthirsty and very horny vampire. Do you have any idea what it does to me when you say my name, when I see life and fire in those emerald green eyes? That slap? That just made me hotter for you because you’re making me feel alive; alive, Kyla, for the first time in a long time.”

She winced, “Get off me.” First she was furious, then she whimpered, trying to shrink into the pillows away from him. There was nowhere to go. The worst part was that it felt like her body was getting geared up for betrayal again. She was naked, he was naked, he was on top of her and he was a heck of a lot stronger than she was.  And she could feel that he was hard. She could feel moisture building between her legs, a tightening in her nipples. He was poised at her entrance; it would take just a tiny jerk of his hips for him to be inside of her again. Kyla’s brain told her to get away, her girlie parts, though --- they had other ideas.

He whispered, nuzzling her earlobe, “Keep saying
no
. It makes me soooo hard. And when I make you come, call out my name again.” He looked at her with eyes that were so blue, like turquoise stones beneath thick dark lashes. “Please.”

His plea touched something in her core that she couldn’t name. It was so erotic. She felt her legs being separated wide and she swallowed hard and just waited, waited to give him whatever he wanted to take. What on earth was happening here?
Why am I not fighting? Am I under his spell?

“Don’t. I’m not going to… to come,” she said, getting hold of her wits, sort of. The words came out but she didn’t move.

He trailed kisses down her throat and down her breasts, making goose bumps rise on her flesh. When he got to her stomach he looked up at her, hungrily, and then erotically stuck his tongue into her belly button and wiggled it, then winked at her.

“We’ll see about that,” Tristan said.

She squirmed, “Not happening.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” He was enjoying every minute of this. But despite his cocky attitude, despite what she knew she
should
want, what she actually wanted was for him to touch her just where he’d touched her last night, the exact same way.  Shame washed over her. Suddenly, his tongue was almost there --- where it had been last night.

Yes! No! Wait, what? What do I want here?

He flicked his tongue across the small wound inside her leg, the wound he’d made with those teeth. She was breathing fast and waiting, waiting for him to touch that magical spot of hers, that spot that she knew would have her shuddering again, just like last night. And she wondered if he’d hit that spot inside again, too. The infamous and elusive g-spot? That had to be what
that
was. She never knew where it was before but now she was so aware of it, it was beyond reason. A whoosh of moisture lubricated her. His stare intensified, burning into her and for a moment she couldn’t look away.

“You want me, Kyla?” his chest was heaving.

“No,” her voice was small. She glared at the ceiling and fisted the damp sheets. It was confusing and almost painful to think about what she was now allowing to happen. Why wasn’t she hitting him? Why wasn’t she trying to get away? Her limbs were numb.

“I think you do,” he whispered but his voice, it almost sounded like he was in pain.

She felt his tongue touch her there, right where she wanted to be touched. It was heavenly but at the same time she was consumed with so much shame. Kyla heard him moan as he dipped his tongue into her opening,

“Oh baby,” he said, “You taste amaaaazing. And that’s for me, that taste, isn’t it?”

“I’ve said no.” Suddenly her voice was strong, “Even if you don’t believe it, I’ve said don’t.”

She felt pride swell at finding words. He winked at her and kept going. Her conviction hadn’t meant a thing to him.

She tried to sit up and swung a fist and he caught her wrist before it connected without looking up and just held her wrist while he kept going. She pushed on his shoulder with her left hand but he didn’t budge.

He pushed her clit hard with his tongue, exerting the perfect amount of pressure, and then she was falling, and fast, tumbling down to that place she’d been last night, the place without self-control. She collapsed back onto the pillows, her whole body starting to shake as the sensations built higher and higher and threatened to shuttle her over a cliff out into oblivion. His tongue swirled, and then he applied pressure, and then let go of her wrist. Her hand fell limply to the bed. His hands slid up and down her thighs and torso, strong fingers massaging, caressing. He looked up at her with intensity, rendering her a doe caught in headlights, stuck and paralyzed by the luminescent blue. It was heady, intense on so many levels. She shook her head and muttered a garbled string of incoherent cuss words, but then hit a peak.

As she hit that peak, he once again bit into her, this time, on her hip. She felt stinging for a split second and then it went numb and she felt a low hum inside her body and it transcended to need, desperation, but those emotions, they weren’t hers. It was like she could feel
his
need, that he needed this, needed what? Her blood? And something else. What was it? She furrowed her brows; the climax wasn’t over and weird sensations rolled through her body.

“Say it, baby,” he breathed and then resumed alternately sucking and probing while she was still mid-release, sensations about to crest but then rising again. He closed his eyes and looked like he was in ecstasy. It was almost like she could feel her blood entering his body, as if she was still connected to it. She felt the oddest urge, the desire to give him more. He pulled back, looked at her strangely and then he muttered, “Not too much.”

His brow furrowed and his fangs were still out. He licked the spot and then rose onto his knees. She quickly clamped her legs shut and pulled her knees up toward her chest. She tried to cover her naked chest with her arms, mortified.

For a moment he just stared at her, like he was trying to process something. Then a sexy smile spread over his face, “No, no, baby. Not done yet. You haven’t said it.” He pushed her knees apart and was quickly inside her. This time, he was slow, pushing deeply but being gentler. He caressed her face, his expression tender

She felt like she was going to come undone all over again, this quickly. It was so gentle, so deliberate, and she felt so full of him. He passionately kissed her, probing her mouth with his tongue, licking her tongue, her lips, his lips were powerful but so soft.

She tasted the metallic taste of her own blood in his mouth plus her own arousal underneath that but she didn’t pull away. He kissed her urgently, like she was a lifeline. She felt like goo beneath him, under a spell. She started whimpering into his mouth out of frustration over what was happening. This wasn’t anything like mindless, emotionless fucking; this, this was lovemaking. He plunged deep into her, gyrating his hips, rubbing his hands up and down her shoulders, holding her face as he kissed her, groaning softly.

He was mumbling something sweet-sounding about how good she felt and how sweet she tasted as he rubbed up and down. Kyla felt goose bumps erupting all over. It went on for what seemed like forever and that she was right at that edge --- dangling, on the precipice of another climax.

“Come again for me, firecracker. Scream my name,” he urged, tonguing her ear lobe and repeatedly ramming into her.

She shook her head, “No, fuck off. Get off. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

He stopped and stared at her, still inside her, “Come on baby, let go.” he gyrated deeply. He was full of authority, “Kyla.”