His Captive Mortal (A Vampire Romance)

“I may not seem like myself—will you just go on, no matter what happens?”

He leans up on his elbows. “What does that mean?”

“I guess I mean…” I hesitate. “You’re an extremely attentive lover. But maybe this time you could sort of ignore me, so I can do my thing?”

He laughs. “I see. I will not pay you any attention at all.” He crawls over to me. He seizes my arms with vampire speed and throws me onto my back, climbing over me. “But I am allowed to get you ready for my plunder.” He yanks down my pants.

I lift my butt to let him pull them off, already warming at the way he handles me so easily, his vampire strength a turn-on.

He pulls my shirt over my head and unsnaps my bra, tossing it to the floor. “Spread your knees for me,” he orders.

I draw my knees up, opening for him.

He settles between my legs, gripping a thigh in each hand as he bends his head and licks into me. He swirls his tongue around my clit, sucks the sensitive nub.

I gasp, my body jerking and coming alive as he plays it like a musical instrument.

He penetrates me with his tongue, nips at my labia with his teeth, teases and tortures me into a frenzy.

“Please, Charlie,” I gasp, tugging his hair with my fingers. “If you don’t stop, I’ll lose all my concentration. You have to stop.”

He lifts his head and grins. “All right, love.” Lifting himself over me, he releases his cock from his boxer briefs. “Okay, so I’ll just do my thing, and you’ll do yours, is that the plan?” he asks with a wink.

I blink, finding it difficult to recall what they were doing after my near-orgasm. “Oh. Yeah,” I croak. But just then he plows into me. I arch in pleasure, forgetting my purpose once more.

“Get busy, fairy,” he murmurs to remind me, his expression soft with affection.

My heart twists. I don’t want to lose him—he’s become my whole world in such a short time. I squeeze my eyes closed and bring myself to the dream in which I, as Anka, was making love to Charlie—no, I called him Charles. I try to become Anka. Search in her own consciousness for the memories I might have.

A flicker of something comes in—I see the boudoir again, the floor strewn with the items flung from the dressing table. I experience the rage.

Then, I—as Aurelia —reach out to my past life self.

Anka, Charles is here. He came back to you.

The rage grows, thrashing about in my chest.

Punish him. He hurt me. He will do it again.

No—forgive him. You have punished him enough.

No!

The depth of Anka’s blackness scares me, and I pull back. But then, I realize, it’s that very intensity I need. That was the power behind the curse, as frightening as the darkness may be. I remember one of the books discussed connecting with spirit guides or one’s higher self. Presumably, if I have a higher self, it governs Anka as well.

Before I can explore that thought, Charlie brings me back to reality, pulling out. “There’s very little appeal for me in this.”

I open my eyes, wincing. “I’m sorry.”

He gives me his usual smirk. “Turn over, so I don’t have to see how much you are not enjoying this.”

I roll to my belly, looking over my shoulder. “I’m really sorry.”

“Hush.” He kisses my temple. “I love you for doing this.”

I turn my face into the sheets, not wanting him to see the effect of his words on me. He didn’t say I love you, period. He said I love you for doing this. Not the same thing. Conditional. He loves me in this one instance. And I’m supposed to be concentrating on removing the curse right now.

He enters me from behind, the sweet sensation of being filled by him makes me moan.

I follow the directions in the book, summoning my higher self and imagining it like a ball of light surrounding me.

Charlie hisses.

I whip my head to look over my shoulder.

“I’m okay. Go on. It’s just a little hot.”

Well, at least I know something happened.

Please help me release this spell, I entreat the ball of light.

Instantly, Anka appears in my consciousness, the anger closing my chest. And yet I sense at the same time, the higher self beaming light into me, thinning the density of the darkness.

Do you wish to feel this way? my higher self asks Anka.

But he—

Do you wish to feel this way?

No, I scream in my head.

No, Anka answers at last.

Release it, our higher self urges.

Something loosens in my chest. I draw a shaky breath.

Charlie pulls out of me again.

I roll over, feeling horrible. “I know this is awful.”

He shrugs. “I wouldn’t call it awful,” he says although I can tell by his expression he’s running out of patience.