Vamp

I reach out, my hand falling on the one she’s using to hold the towel in place. Gently, I pull it away, pressing her palm to my lips, kissing it as the towel drops in a heap to the floor, and I hear a small whimper.

She tilts her head up to my ear as I draw one of her fingers into my mouth, her breath warm and sweet, and her words nearly drop me to my knees.

“I’m not so sure you could get much harder, Maxim.”

My other hand sweeps up her back, clutching a handful of her wet hair and tugging, arching her back into me. Her tits press to my chest as I set my own lips to her ear and reply. “We’re going to find out, my little vamp.” I trace my tongue around the shell of her ear, my pulse pounding. “Right now.”

Five

Seleme

I MAY BE A VIRGIN.

But I’m no prude.

Clearly.

Because I’m standing here naked, taunting this man I barely know with not only my body but my words, too. And judging by his reaction, he is ready to taunt me back.

Somewhere, deep down, a small voice whispers that this can’t happen. It’s begging me to stop. It’s telling me all the reasons why I can’t have this man, no matter how much I want him, why I have to save myself for Alberto Messina. I can only conceive if I am a virgin. They will know. Somehow, some way they will figure it out. It will dishonor them in a way that can only bring harm to myself and my family.

If I do what I want to do right now—what I’m already doing—the pact will be broken.

They’ll take their revenge.

Help.

Somebody stop me, because I can’t stop myself.

But maybe, just maybe, the legendary ‘moon child’ isn’t like others. Maybe I’m different.

My entire life, the rules haven’t applied to me. I’ve been an anomaly.

It’s my only hope, and as irresponsible as it is, I’m going to count on it. I can conceive, even if I am not a virgin.

Maxim’s dark eyes are alive with the flicker of some barely restrained flame. He’s huge, towering above me as goosebumps cover my flesh, even as the heat of my apartment and the billowing steam from the shower swirl around us both.

My skin is still damp, my hair still dripping, and I feel the miniature rivers of water tickling the indent of my spine as he squeezes my wet hair and tugs my head back.

This must be what it’s like to be intoxicated. Head spinning, it feels like my feet are stuck to the floor, unable to move, even as my rational mind tells me to flee. To retreat into the safety of the bathroom, where the running water might block out this pull towards him. To scream at him to get out.

He’s the first man to see me naked. The first man that has ever ignited the feelings I’ve had since I drew the first breath of his scent almost two weeks ago.

When he took my hand tonight, my knees nearly buckled. It was as though a lifetime of memories exploded inside me. But it was different; the images that flashed through my mind were full of hope. As though they were to come, not in the past.

My body trembles as the vibration between us makes my breath quicken and my core tighten. I squeeze my inner muscles, both willing the feeling that grows there to expand and at the same time praying it will go away.

Because I know, even through my thin hope, this shouldn’t be. The conflict wages a war inside me, pulling me from both sides of my being, threatening to tear me apart.

But when I hear his voice, my control evaporates.

“Fuck, you are perfect. Such a beautiful girl.”

“Girl?” I snap, pinning my eyes to his. His warm breath is on my cheek, his scent spinning inside of me until I think I might faint. “You think I am a girl?”

“You are. You are a girl. You are a woman. You are many things, Seleme, and if my instinct is correct, you’re about to show me all of them. All of you.”

The masculine depth of his words makes my belly flutter, and I reach up to twine my fingers in his black hair, holding on because I feel like I’m falling.

The thick ridge pressing into my hip throbs with need. I’ve never seen a man naked before, except on a computer screen, but I know what’s happening to him. I can hear his heartbeat and feel the flow and pump of his blood, especially down there, and it frightens me.

What if I’m unable to control myself when the lust ignites within me?

Until I come of age and my vampire side takes over, I won’t receive all the blessings and curses of our kind: my powers, my bloodlust, my immortality that will slow the ageing process to a near standstill… Most half-vampires don’t feed until after their turning, but it’s not unheard of. What if I kill him?