Samson's Lovely Mortal (8 page)

“You should be careful about the lies you’re spreading,” he warned her in a low tone. “Lies can kill people. Even people like you.”

“They’re not called lies if they’re true. So, it looks like I broke you.”

Damn Holly! She really spread gossip faster than anybody he knew.

“Don’t flatter yourself. It doesn’t become you.” He never wanted to feel Ilona’s touch again. The very thought disgusted him. How he could have ever enjoyed her evil hands on him, was a mystery.

“If you come back to me I can fix you,” she hummed, obviously convinced of her seductive powers.

“You can’t fix what’s not broken.” True. He had been broken only a day ago, but now, thanks to Delilah, everything was working just fine.

“Liar.”

“I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last woman on earth. So, leave me alone.”

Samson turned, and she put a hand on his arm. He whipped back around and shot her a venomous look, jerking his arm away from her.

“Darling, sorry to keep you so long,” Delilah’s voice suddenly chirped next to him. He felt her warm hand on his arm, instantly relaxing his taut muscles. Gratefully, he turned to her.

“Here’s your water, sweetness.” In the corner of his eye he could see Ilona’s surprise. She stood there frozen as she watched them, while he placed his hand on Delilah’s back to pull her away.

“Thank you.” He kept his voice low as they walked through the bar area.

“It looked like you wanted to get away from her.” There was an unspoken question in her voice.

“I did.”

“Somebody you know?”

Should he tell her? It wouldn’t do any harm. “Ex-girlfriend.”

“Oh. She’s beautiful.” Delilah sounded deflated.

“Only on the outside.” Samson knew what she felt. Women, whether humans or vampires, were predictable in one way: they always compared themselves to other women. He had to stop her from worrying about it. He pulled her into a corner and looked deep into her eyes.

“You are more beautiful than any woman I’ve ever met. And if there weren’t so many people here, I’d show you just how desirable I think you are.”

His fingers stroked her cheek softly. He wanted to kiss her, but not here, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop once he started. Instead he pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingertips. Her skin was warm and sweet. He nipped at her index finger and pulled it between his lips, closing around it and letting his tongue play with it.

“Samson …” Her voice was but a whisper.

He watched her as she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, until he let go of her finger. He was more than satisfied with the effect he had on her. She responded to each of his seductive movements, and he wasn’t even using vampire mind control. That’s right, he wasn’t! He hadn’t even noticed. Every interaction with her had been completely and utterly devoid of any mind control on his part.

Vampires used mind control to place thoughts in their intended victims’ minds to allow them to approach them and feed from them, and then later, to wipe their memories clear so they wouldn’t have any recollection of the events.

Since Samson didn’t feed off humans unless it was an emergency, he rarely had the need to use mind control. He drank blood acquired through a blood bank and was content with it. It wasn’t quite the same as the warm, pulsating blood coming straight from a human’s veins, but it was sufficient to satisfy his hunger and nourish his body.

Of course, when he’d been a new vampire, and there had been no such thing as a blood bank, he had taken blood directly from humans. Sometimes he’d taken too much and had accidentally killed humans. Over the years he’d learned to control himself better. When blood had become more readily available on the commercial market, he’d switched to it.

He hadn’t used mind control in a while, and it hadn’t even occurred to him to use it on Delilah, though he wanted to make absolutely sure to have sex with her tonight. Using mind control would have ensured him that.

But her response to his touch had given him absolute certainty of the fact that he didn’t need to use his vampire skills on her.

“We should go back to our seats. We don’t want to miss the second act.”

“No, we wouldn’t want to miss anything.” The husky tone in her voice told him she wasn’t talking about the play. Samson felt his pants tighten instantly. This was not the time to have another erection, but alas, he had no control over it. Better to hide in the dark of the theater.

He looked at her from the side as they quietly watched the second act. He wanted her so much, it was painful to wait. In the dark, he reached for her hand and found her willingly accepting his touch. He needed more. It was stupid to feel like a schoolboy, fumbling in the dark, but he couldn’t help himself. Hesitantly he guided her hand to his thigh where he left it. Would she pull it back?

He couldn’t follow the action on the stage when there was a much more exciting mystery unraveling right next to him. As he let go of her hand, his body was tense. It was the moment where she was free to pull her hand away, or to leave it where it was, burning through the fabric of his pants, sending shockwaves of heat through his body.

Delilah did neither—her hand didn’t pull away, but it didn’t stay where he’d placed it either. Instead, her hand gently moved along his thigh, up and down, stroking him, moving higher up now. Damn, she was killing him! His hard-on was straining against his pants, and he had no way of shifting in the tight space to make himself more comfortable.

Her warm hand moved up to the apex of his thighs. He was almost ready to come right there and then—when would this damn play be over? Samson held his breath until he noticed her look at him. She chuckled silently. What was so funny?

Delilah leaned into him, and he felt her mouth close to his ear.

“You shouldn’t play with fire if you can’t take the heat.”

Bloody hell, she was playing him like a fiddle, turning him into putty in her hands. And she knew it all too well. He’d always thought of himself as being the predator, but she’d turned the game around, switching into his customary role. He couldn’t wait to turn the tables on her later.

“Payback’s a bitch.” And he would thoroughly enjoy it.

“Shh!” a voice from behind reprimanded him.

Samson took hold of her hand again, stopping her from caressing him any further, but still keeping it on his thigh. He could handle that—just about. He hadn’t had this much fun with a woman since he’d been a teenager and human. As a vampire, everything to do with sex had been hot and heavy without real fun and games. Well, this was hot and heavy too, but at the same time he could sense the humor in it all. He wondered whether she could awaken his lighter side and make him feel carefree and relaxed again.

He couldn’t remember when he had last joked with a woman, but with Delilah, everything seemed so easy. She didn’t take herself too seriously; it made it almost easy to forget what he was. She treated him like a normal man. Of course she would. She had no idea what he was. It didn’t matter, not tonight. Tonight he’d take her to his bed, and he would be just a man, a man who wanted her. He would forget that he was a vampire.

Ilona threw her shoulders back and sailed out of the theater. She’d lost interest in staying for the second act. Could anybody blame her? She hadn’t seen Samson since the breakup. And to see him after such a long time in the company of a human threw even her for a loop—especially since she’d heard that he was suffering from erectile dysfunction. So what was he doing out with a human woman? Like a mere mortal could ever satisfy a man like Samson. What a ridiculous notion!

Ilona was friendly with Dr. Drake’s receptionist and therefore knew about Samson’s sessions with the shrink. Not that she cared if he could get it up or not; she certainly had no interest in him anymore, particularly since it was clear that he would never blood-bond with her.

She shot past a waiting couple who’d waived down a taxi, and ripped the passenger door open.

“Excuse us, but—” Ilona ignored the man’s protest and snarled at him. She felt better when he flinched and pulled back.

She let herself fall into the backseat and, without thinking, she gave the taxi driver an address as she slammed the door shut.

Only when she leaned back into the seat, did she realize that the address she’d given him was not hers. She sighed. Maybe it was better not to go home, considering the mood she was in. Her subconscious seemed to know what she needed anyway.

Distraction.

Less than ten minutes later, she stood at the door of the apartment, having been buzzed up to the top floor. She barely had time to straighten her dress when the door opened.

Amaury gave her a once-over. As always, he looked sexy as the devil, which was exactly what she needed tonight.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” he drawled.

She walked straight past him into the open-plan living area. “I never knew you to be one for clichés.”

Amaury shrugged his shoulders and let the door fall shut. “Things change. But I see you haven’t.” No. She was still as gorgeous and as coldhearted as ever. Some things never changed.

He watched her as she leaned against the bar. “How have you been, Amaury?”

Raising his eyebrow, he didn’t bother answering her question. “What do you want, Ilona? Did you break your vibrator? Or why else would you be here?”

She pursed her lips. “Are you always this crude?”

“Only with you, darling, ‘cause that’s how you like it, don’t you?”

“And?” She paused. “Are you planning to deliver?”

Amaury looked at his wristwatch. “I have an hour to kill. It’s an option.” He could do with some sex. He could
always
do with sex.

“If you only have an hour, we’d better not waste time by chatting as if we were old friends.” She parted her lips, allowing her tongue to dart out. She licked her lower lip, and he followed her gaze as it dropped to his groin.

Amaury knew what she saw: a vampire ready for some action between the sheets. He was always ready. Merely talking about sex could get him aroused. It was both a gift and a curse.

It wouldn’t be the first time he bedded Ilona and probably not the last one either. She had a great body, and she liked her loving rough. Rough worked for him. Especially with a woman like her.

“Why tonight?” He wasn’t ready to let her have her way yet. The longer he’d stall her, the more randy she would get. And a randy Ilona promised a great fuck.

“What do you care? I’m here, aren’t I?”

He could tell she was hiding something, pretending this was like any evening for her, but he sensed her frustration. Deep down. Something had ruffled her feathers. That’s why she needed him: she needed the tension released. He knew just how.

Amaury took several steps toward her, stopping inches from her. “What are you wearing underneath this frock?”

“Nothing.”

Just like he’d told her after their first sexual encounter. He let out an appreciative grunt. He preferred his women to come prepared. No use wasting time by dealing with pesky underwear. He never wore any himself.

“Since we both know that you don’t like sucking cock, let’s just get to the main event, shall we?”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond. Instead he hauled her over his shoulder and carried her to the couch. She didn’t show any rejection to his treatment, and he didn’t expect any. He dropped her facedown onto the soft, cream cushions.

Amaury let himself fall onto it right after her and pinned her underneath him. He ground his loins into her, pressing his erection into her thigh.

“Missed my cock, did you?”

“Arrogant bastard,” she hissed and tried to push him off.

He grabbed her wrists and let her struggle for a while. “Yet you keep coming back. I guess there’s something you want from me. And we both know it sure isn’t my charm—which only leaves my cock.”

He knew it was all a game for her, pretending she didn’t really want this. But the scent of her arousal betrayed her. He absorbed her smell, making it obvious to her what he was doing.

“How rough would you like it this time?” He did not allow her to avoid his gaze. She’d have to tell him what she wanted, and then he’d decide whether he’d give it to her or not. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t. It depended on his mood.

Ilona pressed her lips together, and he couldn’t suppress a grin. As always, she wasn’t prepared to ask for it. Just as well.

“I guess I have my answer then. Maybe a slap on your ass will loosen your tongue.”

An interested flicker animated her eyes.

Exactly as he’d suspected.

“You savage!” Ilona’s voice didn’t carry enough anger for him to even consider it a protest. More of an invitation, actually. Not that he needed one.

A second later, he rolled to the side and flipped her onto her stomach. Holding her wrists with one hand, he used his other one to lift up her dress.

“Let’s see if you lied to me, or if you’re truly wearing nothing underneath. You know how I can get when somebody lies to me.”  Too many lies, and they would unleash a beast within him.

A hitched breath was the answer. And then a comment. “I know.”

Provocative.

Amaury knew instantly what he would find underneath the green silk of her evening gown. So he readied himself to deliver her punishment.

His hand pushed up the fabric, up over her knees, her thighs. He stopped for a second when he reached her round cheeks. As he pushed the fabric over her ass and let it bunch at her waist, he took in the sight. Creamy, delicate skin. Pale.

Almost naked, but not quite. Wearing a thong qualified as a lie.

Slowly he stroked a hand over her ass. His finger hooked under the string and lifted it. A moment later he let it snap back onto her skin. He
tsk
ed.

An expectant sigh came from Ilona. “Oops, forgot I was wearing that.”

Another lie.

She wanted it badly. And he’d deliver. He wasn’t one to disappoint a woman in bed. And besides, he’d just gotten in the mood for something bad.

His hand lifted from the smooth skin of her buttocks.

“No more lies tonight.” His order was followed by his palm connecting with the right cheek of her ass in a short but stinging slap.

She moaned into the cushion as he gave her a second’s reprieve before he delivered the next slap onto the other cheek. His palm prints only showed for a few moments then disappeared. On a human woman they would have remained longer, not on the vampire female beneath him.

He nudged her legs apart with his knee. When she didn’t comply quickly enough, he paddled her ass once more. Left and right. Again. Instantly her thighs spread, but the thong obstructed the clear view of her pussy. It had to go. After all, he was a visual type of guy.

“No more thongs.” He ripped the piece off her, discarding it on the floor.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice colored with the arousal his senses were already bathing in.

He lowered his hand and slid it between her thighs, drenching his fingers in her cream. She jerked when his hand found her clit and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.

But he only let her enjoy it for a second, before his finger dove into her slit. The motion almost lifted her off the sofa.

“You need it bad,” he commented.

“Yes, real bad.” She sounded breathless.

“I’ve got just the thing for you.” A pretty big thing.

Vampire speed was a good skill to have when wanting to free one’s cock quickly. This was the moment when it definitely came in handy. His erection jutted out proudly as soon as he’d lowered the zipper. He didn’t bother taking his pants off completely.

He knew he was big, larger than the average vampire. Many women wouldn’t be able to accommodate him immediately, but Ilona had been fucked sufficiently by countless men; she was well used to an extra-large helping of cock. And he was ready to dole out her serving. Inch by iron-hard inch.

Centering himself behind her, he grabbed her hips with both hands and plunged into her heat. Slick, hot, and wet, she welcomed him. He moved in and out of her, taking her moans for what they were: encouragement.

“Harder!” she screamed, sounding angry.

“Don’t you give me orders,” he bit out and thrust deeper, then followed it up with a slap on her ass. And another one. He was in the driver’s seat, and he’d make it clear to her.

“Oh God, yes!”

Amaury grinned devilishly. He knew exactly what she needed. And what he wanted.

“I think you need your ass fucked, so you know who’s in charge in my bed.” A warning he was willing to turn into reality.

He felt the muscles of her sheath tighten. No, he wouldn’t let her come, not yet. He pulled out instantly and held her still.

“Damn it, you bastard! What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Fuck me, now!” She was like hell on a runaway train, scratching and clawing at him.

“Oh, I’m gonna fuck you. On my terms.” But her well-used pussy wasn’t enough for him.

He dipped his finger into her slick heat and coated it with her cream. As he slipped it out, he ran it up the crack of her ass until he found her other hole. She went completely still. His finger rimmed the puckered hole, moistening it with her juices.

Within seconds she relaxed, and he felt her arch upwards and push herself against his finger, tempting him to enter. He didn’t need any coaxing. His finger drove into her narrow sheath, her muscles securing him tightly.

Letting go of her hip, he reached underneath the couch, recovering the jar of lubricant he kept there for events like this and dug his fingers into it. Smoothing a generous amount over her hole and working it into her with his fingers, was almost as pleasurable as fucking her.

But not quite.

Already now she was panting heavily, moaning every time his fingers moved in and out. Two fingers now, preparing her for his massive cock, stretching her.

“Tell me now, or I’m going to leave you hanging. Tell me what you want.”

A moment’s hesitation. He didn’t expect any less. Then, “I came to have my ass fucked. You’re happy now?”

Happy? Amaury was never happy. Satisfied? Yes. Satisfied, he could do that. And he’d be well satisfied in a few minutes.

“Then you’ve come to the right place.”

He eased out his fingers and placed his cock at her dark passage, nudging forward. The tight ring guarding her entrance relaxed, and the lubricant allowed him to slide in. Just an inch. Then another one.

Ilona’s moan turned into a scream. “Yes!”

And then he thrust past the entrance, deep into her, feeling the tight muscles clench around him as securely as if she’d grabbed him with her fist. Amaury knew she didn’t feel any pain as he sensed only her pleasure. Good. In either case, he wouldn’t have pulled out. Not now. Not when her muscles delivered just the pressure he craved. It would be a short fuck, but a damn good one.

He pulled back, then plunged deep. And again, finding the rhythm that drove him wild and promised release.

“Yeah, you like me to fuck you like that, don’t you?” he urged her to surrender. “That’s why you keep coming back. ‘Cause nobody can give it to you like that.”

“More!”

“I’ve got more. Lots more.” And he pumped harder, driving his shaft in deeper, faster. Several more frantic strokes, and he knew he would lose it. Her body was too tight, too hot. It was too much.

“You have the tightest ass I’ve ever fucked.”

His hand slipped to her pussy, finding her clit instantly. One touch, and her over-sensitized body erupted. The moment he felt her muscles spasm, he lost control and joined her in her climax.

His semen shot into her in short bursts, mimicking Ilona’s spasms. Seconds later he collapsed onto her.

“And don’t you ever try to order me around again.” Truth be told, he welcomed any excuse to spank her—it got him hornier than hell.

“As long as it gets me what I want …”

“Let’s not kid ourselves, Ilona. Neither one of us will ever get what we want.”

She huffed. “Like you have any idea what I want.”

“You are not that different from me, even if you don’t want to admit it. But if you believe that you can fill your empty heart with money, power and meaningless sex, you’re more delusional than I am. It’s not going to warm your cold heart. You can ask me. I’m an expert at it.”

He sure was. Amaury closed his eyes to the pain he remembered, then swallowed it away. Cursed to sense other people’s emotions, he was devoid of feeling love himself. Loyalty, friendship, anger, even guilt, pain and lust—he had no trouble feeling. But love? There was no place in his shriveled up heart for it.

“You’re wrong. Money and power will get me a long way to where I want to be.”

Amaury rolled off her and shrugged. “If you want to delude yourself, be my guest. It doesn’t change anything about the facts.”

She turned her face to him. “Do you really believe I give a damn about what you think?”

He let out a bear laugh. “Of course not. All you give a damn about is my cock. I’m not the one who’s delusional.”

She slapped at him, but he caught her arm without effort.

“Looks like somebody needs another spanking.” And another quick fuck.