The Hunter's Prey (17 page)

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Authors: Diane Whiteside

BOOK: The Hunter's Prey
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Rafael stayed perfectly still on the other side of the lounge from me. He was obviously being very careful not to frighten me.

“How do I know that?” he asked. “You saw me last night with the blonde. You have obviously satisfied yourself, mi corazon, that she wasn’t harmed or you wouldn’t be sitting here so calmly with me. Correct?”

I nodded. I’ve never had a conversation with a predator before and I couldn’t have moved to save my life. I didn’t know whether I should treat him as a man or as a sensual predator.
 

“So, what would you like to ask me, querida? I believe that the woman was content with the encounter last night.”

“Yes, it seemed like symbiosis to me,” I said, finding comfort in an academic term. I still couldn’t believe that I was talking to him about this. “She gets an orgasm and you get some blood. But it didn’t look like what the books say.”

He smiled at that, a genuine grin with white teeth flashing against his olive skin. No sign of his fangs though.

“Oh, most of the books are very wrong, querida. A few have some elements of truth though.” His eyes gleamed at me, with laughter and admiration, I think.
 

I took a sip of my soda, relaxing a bit more when he showed no signs of attacking me.

“So here you are, interviewing a vampire,” he remarked. “An unexpected event for both of us. I will answer your questions, querida, as much as I can. It is a pleasure to converse with a beautiful, intelligent woman.” He inclined his head to me while he lifted his soda can, as if toasting me. I smiled back and raised my soda can in salute to him.

I questioned him for a long time about vampire biology and I’ll write up my notes later. Finally I was curled up on that lumpy sofa, finishing the last sentence, while Rafael leaned against the wall.
 

“I’ve never before discussed vampires with anyone who wasn’t a vampire or considering becoming one. This has been very enlightening for me.” He twirled his soda can in those elegant brown fingers. “But you still have one particular question for me, querida. It has been burning your tongue all evening as you start to voice it, then quickly change your words. Do you believe now that I will be truthful with you? Come, ask your question.”

I swallowed hard and then asked him that most embarrassing of all questions.

“Do you masturbate?”
 

His jaw dropped and he choked on a mouthful of soda. I blushed and started to say something more, give him an easy exit from answering me. But he closed his eyes and chuckled. My blush deepened and I stayed silent, unable to smoothly change the subject.
 

His eyes opened, still laughing, and he crossed the room to me. He dropped to his knees in front of me. I stared at him, shocked. He bent his head to me and kissed my hand.
 

I couldn’t have said anything if I’d tried.

“You are truly the most incredible woman. So intelligent and so attractive.” He kissed my hand again but more slowly. I could feel his lips move against my skin in a delicate caress. He rubbed his cheek against my hand for an instant and then looked up at me.
 

“Sí, I masturbate but very rarely. I am seldom without sexual companions, as you have undoubtedly guessed. But sometimes, mi corazon, I fantasize when I am alone. Then I will bring myself to a climax.”

I felt a jolt of fire lance through my body at the images those words evoked. I reached out, very tentatively, and pushed a strand of hair back from his forehead. It was incredibly soft and sleek. His eyelids drooped at the contact and his head tilted a little. It reminded me of stroking a bird’s head, pleasure and wariness at the same time.
 

I slid my fingers through his hair again, enjoying the feel. He closed his eyes and gave himself up to my touch, visibly enjoying himself. I petted him a few more times before taking my hand away. I wanted to touch more of him but didn’t know what to do next.
 

“Would you like to watch me, querida?” he asked, his voice a soft rumble in the quiet room.
 

I swallowed hard, hungry at the thought but unable to answer.
 

“I think it would bring you pleasure if you watched,” he murmured and I nodded silently in acknowledgment. “But I would like to ask a favor of you in return.”

I eyed him suspiciously, some of my eagerness fading.
 

“If watching me excites you, may I have a drop of your blood afterwards? That would allow me a taste of your emotion, which is what I truly desire, querida. I swear to you that you would be in no danger.”

I thought about it and then agreed. He could have killed me at any time during the tour, if he had wanted to. But he hadn’t so maybe he would keep his word. If he didn’t keep his word, well, I’d be dead whether I agreed to this or not.

“Sí, Rafael, you may have a sample of my blood. I put my faith in your honor.”

Strong emotion swept over Rafael’s face at my words. Surprise? Relief? Joy?
 

He kissed my hand and stood up. He stretched like a dancer and swayed a bit, then stroked his chest. I blinked when his nipples hardened under the touch. Then he sat down and took his boots off, with a joke about how he appreciated them more at other times. He took his socks off too and spent a little time rubbing his feet.
 

Somehow his unselfconscious ease with his own body really affected me. I felt a little flushed and my own nipples hardened.

Then he stood up again. He turned slowly in front of me, caressing himself and allowing me to watch every angle of his swaying body. He didn’t let me get a clear look at his front, only showing me side views or quick turns, as he excited himself. I saw his massive chest rise and fall more strongly as he became excited.
 

He rubbed and plucked his nipples through the thin T-shirt. Then he slid his hands down over his hips to fondle his rear, which thrust his chest towards me for a clearer view.
 

I think I gasped. I know I was breathing hard by the time his T-shirt came off.
 

Rafael’s chest and back were deeply scarred. Some of the injuries must have been life-threatening, both whip scars and deep gouges. I shuddered at the pain he must have felt. Then I recovered myself and wondered if he had needed to adjust his hunting technique for those wounds.
 

But I uttered no questions. I was much more interested in watching a beautiful man enjoying himself. I started to feel damp between my legs. I grew wetter as he rubbed his crotch through his jeans, then fanned his fingers to emphasize his erection. I stayed still though, except for a few wriggles, not wanting to lose control of myself completely.

He took a long time handling himself. My body wanted to attack him by the time he finally unzipped his jeans. His penis was huge. I’ve never seen an adult man’s fully erect penis before but surely Rafael’s was unusually large. I was shocked at its size and hungry for it at the same time.
 

His hand closed around it and he turned partly away from me. The teasing movement inflamed me. He played with himself more and I could see his penis lengthening under the attention.
 

I cursed under my breath and sat up straighter, needing to see more.

Then Rafael turned back to me. His hand slid inside his jeans and cupped his scrotum. I watched the subtle movements, riveted in place. He played with himself longer before sliding his jeans slowly, oh so slowly, down his legs. Again he teased me by turning so I first saw his buttocks, then his hips and legs, before seeing his arousal in profile. Damn, how I wanted it! I gripped the sofa arm hard.
 

At last Rafael displayed himself to me proudly, his eyes locked on me. I watched his every move, sweating when his fist lingered at the tip, swallowing when he cupped his testicles. Soon I was breathing when he did, our lungs working in unison as he slowly built our excitement.
 

His hand started to pump faster and faster. He tried to avoid that, by changing hands and tempo. Pain showed in his face as he fought his own body’s demands. But finally his orgasm overwhelmed him. He growled like a wolf as he shot a rich stream of white.
 

Rafael’s legs buckled under him and he fell to his knees in front of me. I reached out to break his fall and caught his shoulders, steadying him. His proud head drooped as he tried to catch his breath. I caressed his hair, crooning to him. But I too was gasping for breath, wishing for my own finish. I couldn’t seem to find it on my own.
 

His head came around under my hand and his mouth caught the inside of my wrist. I relaxed a bit, expecting another kiss. He sucked my skin hard, exactly on my pulse point. I gulped, caught by surprise and a wave of hunger. Then he bit down, hard and clean.
 

His fangs tied us together as he tapped my blood. The bond transformed pleasure into raw delight, blazing through me like the flame from a welder’s torch. I cried out, as fire raced through me and centered deep within me. The orgasm burst through me in a series of shockwaves, tsunamis of feeling that consumed every cell and every thought.
 

My heart reached out for him, wanting to share this joy. Then I felt him somehow in my mind, part of me as I was part of him, ecstasy roaring through both of our bodies and minds together.
 

It was a long time before I could think again. I found myself on his lap with my face buried against his chest. He smelled of sandalwood, sweat and sex. His heartbeat, like mine, was a little irregular. I was bitterly sorry in that moment to lose the connection we’d felt as my blood flowed into him.
 

 

June 6th:
 

Rafael and I ran together this morning. We spoke more about vampires, as he promised. I have promised in return never to speak to anyone else about him. My journal is encrypted and he has permitted me this record at least.
 

I must try to retain a professional distance while studying him as a unique predator. I need to limit this relationship to friendship so he won’t distract me from my plans.
 

I can’t let myself see him as a man lest I lose control again. He’s simply too attractive to me. I’ve spent too many years, working my way out of the orphanages and gaining my education, planning for children and a good home. I can’t throw it all away on a vampire.
 

But sometimes, when I try to fall asleep at night, I remember how it felt to be joined to him in blood and passion. And I wonder what it would feel like to have that splendid penis buried deep within me.
 

Then I dream of being his lover and sharing joy with him again.

 

The End

 

Next In The Hunter’s Prey Series:

Bond of Blood

A full-length erotic romance featuring Don Rafael & Grania

 

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