Page 9 of A Love So Deadly (Kissed by Darkness #1)

Chapter

Eight

Lucian

E lliot’s here, exactly where she shouldn’t be, and I’m positive she’s up to something.

I’d love to say she isn’t my type, but I’m not sure exactly what that is, anymore. And after so long as a powerful vampire, an old one, I know type doesn’t necessarily mean looks.

That wears away.

It means essence and intent and chemical reactions.

And blood. Always blood.

Elliot?

She defies everything. The curls and big blue eyes scream innocent. The intent when she thinks I’m not looking. The sharp intelligence speaks of a new danger to me. And her ability to fight me without realizing it whispers old soul.

The rest?

It’s pure fucking sex that stirs me.

She stays frozen in place. I saw her poking about.

I know she found Clara’s necklace, which I kept because…

I don’t know why I kept it. The worth, probably.

Everything in here holds secrets. The rest is worth a fortune.

Even the frame the daguerreotype picture is in.

It was done just after the technique came out.

I move my gaze back to Elliot. The throb of her heart is in my ears, and her red lips part. It’s an invitation, along with the streak of color on her cheeks and the big pupils.

My cock is hard.

It’s a picture-perfect moment, and I breathe it in, letting it permeate.

The air pulsates and the blood in her veins matches the beat in mine, something I haven’t felt since…

Never.

Not like this.

Not with such a powerful, erotic pull.

I want to wrap her in ropes, spend time working on her, building the orgasm up with each knot, each pull carefully thought out to apply the right kind of pressure.

I want more. So much more.

Like her blood. I want it all. Spilling over me, soaking in, down to the bone.

I want to fuck her, maybe more than I want her blood. I want every orgasm and drop of pleasure in her body.

A frisson of need and desire bolt up through me, sending the blood in me that I drank pulsating. I want to have her and own her and make her mine.

And here she is, like a gift from the gods, staring up at me.

There’s a part of me that’s aware I’m not thinking straight. A whisper I ignore. Instead of turning and ordering her out of here then wiping this from her mind, I take a few steps in to close that gap.

I stroke a hand through her curls, soft and silk.Everything about her, from the way her tits press against the front of her outfit, to the heave of each breath, or the warmth of life that shifts under her skin—it’s all so overwhelming.

I could order her to get my cock from my pants.

Or I could do that, order her motionless while I rubbed my cock over her.

But what I want to do, that urge that’s old as the world, is command she open her mouth and then feed my dick to her, inch by inch until I hit the back of her throat.

Yes, I could make her sit, mouth open wide while I used my hand to jerk off and then slam hard down her throat over and over until I came.

I release the fantasy and take her in.

She looks at me in that way I understand too well.

Deep, ravenous hunger.

Except Elliot doesn’t want my blood. She wants me.

I rake my fingers over her skull, tangling them in her hair, and pull slightly. The dazed look deepens, and she closes eyes like she might climax from that alone. And it’s fucking hot.

“I asked you a question,” I murmur. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Down here, touching things that don’t belong to you.”

“Getting your file,” she says. Her voice slurs and it’s like she’s licking my bare skin.

“No,” I say. “You’re not. “You’re down here, where you shouldn’t be, Miss Montague.”

I don’t stop touching her.

Elliot fascinates me. Turns me on.

And she lies.

I know she got off on different floors and walked around, snooping. She’s after something. From my searching, I found out why she’s here, but I don’t know what she thinks she’ll find.

“I need to go,” Elliot says. “I have a date.”

A date?

I focus on her. Elevated breathing, an uptick in her heart beat like a tiny surge of adrenaline hit. Another lie.

She tries to shift away, but I move closer, using my threaded fingers in her hair to pull her head back. Our gazes lock. “Never lie to me, Miss Montague. It doesn’t work.”

“Don’t touch me,” she spits, “or it gets you a lawsuit, Lucy.”

Suddenly that wildness that streaks through her hits me. It’s euphoric. Lucy? Really?

“Lucy?” I ask.

“Lucy.”

Laughter breaks free from me, and I bend down while pulling her closer so our mouths almost touch. The heat of her breath and the life radiating from her skin is almost as good as blood. Almost as satisfying as sex.

“Call me all the names you can think of, Monty . But lawsuit? There’s no such thing in this world. You signed your rights away when you signed up for the job. You can’t sue. You can’t talk about the world in here.”

“What world?”

“This one. Whatever you see or hear can’t leave this place. Everything you do with me, in here or out in the world, is covered by your contract. You are, in effect, mine.”

The last word reverberates through the air.

Mine.

It flares in her eyes.

“What are you?” Her breath comes in short pants. “Lucy the criminal mastermind? Is that it?”

“Monty the girl who never was,” I say, so low I’m not sure the intrinsic threat registers. “If she doesn’t watch her tongue. If she doesn’t obey me.”

Her heart goes haywire as she clocks the threat in ‘the girl who never was. ’

I won’t kill her. I don’t do that to employees.

Some fall through the cracks, there are…

mistakes. But we don’t kill the people we hire.

Usually. And we never turn them.Wipe their minds is the last resort, but a touch of mesmerizing, a glamor here and there so that when they leave, they leave happy and oblivious to the undead they worked for.

We drink from the willing. We hunt the criminal and dangerous outliers.

We keep the ranks equal.

No more vampires made unless the humans kill.

But fuck. What I’d give to turn this one. Her fire is mesmerizing. Compelling.

I drag her up higher and run a fang over her bottom lip, followed by my tongue.

Elliot’s moans low.

I know more about who she is and why she’s here. A failed reporter, one who’s filed missing person’s reports on a girl who briefly worked here. But again, I don’t know what she thinks she’ll find, and I really don’t care. I keep her on because she makes me feel alive. That spark feeds me.

With effort, I retract my fangs, but I lean into her as I fist her hair. My strength holds her as I kiss her.

Claim her.

The kiss is open mouthed and designed to strip and disarm, to seduce, but her heat and cling of her lips feed something into me. Like she’s stripping me, too.

It’s a dangerous thing, a game I’d long forgotten. She’s hot and sweet, light to my dark, life to my otherness.

I can’t get enough. She’s morphine and opium in one. She’s highs and lows and untamed sex I need to tame to tie down and teach all the lessons to.

Her hands come up around my neck, and I haul her into my arms and slam her into the cabinet. I skim a hand down her thigh, then over, pushing up between them and to her wet panties. A groan breaks free as I peel back the material and push my fingers into her. She clenches hard.

Humans feel different. It’s the way the flow of blood works; it’s how they throb and swell and push into you.

But unholy fuck. Elliot is like the finest dessert.

She feels like how honey smells. And she’s tight.

I thrust into her furnace that’s like life itself and keep kissing her, my tongue teasing hers. And she keeps kissing me back.

I keep thrusting. The hot springs of her wet tunnel shoot me full of need and adrenaline, that impossible heat. It’s a softness I want to slam my cock into.

She feels unbelievably good around me.

Her pussy tries to break my fingers as she pulsates. and I revel in the way she both fights and gives in to the kiss. Elliot’s the perfect fucking prey.

The prey that won’t give up her secrets until the bitter end.

I’m lost in it. But so is she. Her hunger matches mine as I fuck her with three fingers now.

Her body sucks at me, trying to hold me in, and she rocks against me as I thrust harder, rougher, deeper.

She’s almost delirious as if she’s either new at this or hasn’t done it in a long time. It’s exciting and a total turn on.

I haven’t fucked a human since Nell. It’s been twenty years. What the fuck is Elliot’s excuse?

Moving from her mouth, I push into the danger zone and take her throat, open mouthed, teeth scraping her skin as I suck and bite and lick. Everything gentle.

I want to feed. The urgency pulsates in my veins, swells my cock even harder, if that’s possible. It wouldn’t take much to slice her open and suck her dry, both of us coming. And her tiny moans, the way she thrusts against me, throat and cunt, tell me she wants that.

She pushes her throat into my mouth and the gush of her blood, safe in its vein, moves through her artery. I can hear it pump through her heart, like I can feel it rush to her cunt. And as I move my thumb, her blood throbs in her clit.

She comes hard, a cry that’s strangled and my fangs distend. My cock strains hard and I almost bite her. Almost sink in so fucking deep I’m in heaven. But I stay this side of hell. Just.

Elliot’s drunk on me, on her orgasm. My licks hold power, I’m aware, and I take advantage as she sinks down, dragging against my hand. She goes to my trousers, and as I yank her head back again, her eyes are glazed with lust.

I should stop.

Instead, I allow her to pull me free. My cock looks huge in her hand, and I almost lose it as she strokes. The first live hand to touch me since Nell. I stagger back as she pulls against my hand, sinks to her knees, and takes me in her mouth.

“Fuck…”

I hadn’t expected her to do that, but shit… the heat and wetness are everything. She sucks me down, and since I figure since she’s offered herself to me, I can take over. I push deep into her throat, a claim of its own.

I sink my hands into her hair, against her scalp so I can hold her, use her, give her a lesson in slavery of the sexual kind.

I hammer her mouth, hard, rough strokes that turn her into an animal that claws at me.

She tries to fight my hold on her hair, to pull me to her, clearly wanting more and more, deeper and rougher, and I give it.

The way she sucks is unlike the vampires with decades of experience, some of them centuries.

I want to hunt down and destroy any man who touched her before me.

I want to fuck her cunt, her ass, and make sure every inch is mine.

I want her tie her up with ropes, make her almost come that way…

then I’d taunt with whips. When I’d had enough of playing with her, moving the ropes, building her experience, I’d make her come and come again after I untied her.

Fuck, I want to delve down into the light of her soul and find the darkness she holds inside.

Each thrust is fuel. Each suck and gag from her are matches. She’s the personification of delicious, and I try and hold out, stretch the moment.

It should be easy.The easiest thing in the world.

But with her, it seems, my control is hardest to hold onto.

I stare down, the drool that coats her chin and her dress, the way the hem’s bunched up and her panties still twisted are all fucking hot. The glisten of her bare lips from their coating of arousal even more so.

I start to pound down deep into her throat that I can’t stop it. My body is electric, my balls high and the aching need too much. The pleasure is too strong. I take her head and thrust down her throat where I empty myself, my cock so entrenched in her it can’t twitch.

The pleasure doesn’t just flood.It consumes.

When the orgasm ends, I pull out of her, and she slowly stands, her chest rapidly rising and falling.

It takes me a few moments to tuck myself away.

There’s fear in her eyes. Arousal, too. And curiosity. A morbidly dark kind.

I don’t smile.

I lock eyes with her.

She knows I’m not normal. I’m other. She has no clue what exactly, but she doesn’t run.

Instead of mesmerizing her, charming her, I just say, “I can make you forget.”

“Is that what you did to Kayla?”

I didn’t ask about the name from my police contact. “The girl who worked here? I never met her. She left.”

Though dazed, her eyes still flash. “You killed her.”

Silence spreads. “Dangerous words, Miss Montague.”

“Guilt?”

“I offered for you to forget,” I say. “I can still do that.”

Elliot shakes her head. “No.”

Is that how she fights me? By her pure, strong will? It’s neither here nor there. She’s still dazed and lost in what she just did.

But I respect her decision and nod.

“Clean up.” I head for the door and stop. I’d almost forgotten why I’d come down here in the first place. The criminal asshole and would be boss of Tenebris, Benicio de Santis, is having an event, and I need a date. “You’re coming out tomorrow evening with me. No choice.”

Then I leave, breathing again only when the door shuts behind me.