Descendants of Darkness
Available from Ellora's Cave
www.ellorascave.com
Published November 2005
(reissue/expanded)
Vampire/anthology
Copyright 2005 Marianne LaCroix
All rights reserved.
What the hell was she doing, inviting a strange man into her apartment? But something about him appealed to her. It wasn’t just his handsome face or the broad expanse of his shoulders that made her mouth water. Something she couldn’t put a name to made her want to know him more. Her body hummed to life at the sight of him, and she knew instinctively she could trust him. Perhaps it was her psychic ability that helped her determine his character. She was always a good judge of people. However, there was something more to this man and his blond counterpart. What was that sense of evil—more so in Lucius—that made her want to pause?
She hoped her instinct was right about Alonso. Or maybe it was her pussy’s ache speaking to her. How long had it been since it was tended to properly? The thought of Alonso brushing her clit with his thumb was enough to make her moan. She was hot, needy, and she wanted relief. Only this man with the dark eyes could ease that powerful need.
A knock sounded at the door, and she shuddered. When she opened it, there he was—tall, dark and tempting. His long, straight black hair fell loose about his shoulders and she craved to run her fingers through its silky texture. Another jolt of sexual awareness shot through her body, ending at the apex of her thighs. Her intimate muscles contracted in animalistic recognition. The word “mate” skittered across her mind as she gazed into his dark eyes. She could easily sink into those brown depths.
“Ciao,” he said with a warm smile. “I’m Alonso.” His accent, obviously Italian, washed over her senses.
“Jolie,” she offered. “Come in.”
He entered the room with an air of supreme dominance. The spacious apartment seemed much smaller with his presence. She closed the door and watched him move about the room, examining the decor.
“Unusual apartment, but it suits you. I like it.”
“Thanks. Make yourself at home.” She stepped toward him.
He gazed at her with an intense heat in his eyes. Sex. Hot, passionate sex, the look said to her, loud and clear. Could she give herself to him for a night of lust?
Hell, yes.
“Ah, could…could I get you something to drink—coffee, a glass of wine?” she stammered as she walked to the kitchen.
“I never drink…wine,” he said with a slight chuckle and a bad Hungarian accent.
She smiled. “A fan of old horror movies?”
“I find some of the films about vampires quite entertaining.”
“Those are my favorites, too. Bela Lugosi was an awesome Dracula, but Frank Langella was much sexier.”
“I like both of them,” he said, closing the distance between them, the crackle in the air utterly palpable. “Have you ever dreamed of a vampire coming to seduce you into an eternity of love and passion?”
“I think there are many women who dream of a love everlasting.”
He stood so close she could smell his clean, spicy scent. Placing his palm on her hip, he pulled her to him. Her body fit perfectly, his hard planes an intoxicating contrast to her softer curves. His hypnotic gaze melted her against him further.
“Would you want me to be the vampire to give you that love?”
Could she truly do this? Her body moved against him, recognizing him as a perfect match. Her heart raced within her chest and she felt lightheaded. She wanted him. Could she risk giving herself to a stranger she just met?
“Well?” he asked pressing her closer to his body. Heat radiated from him, the warmth wrapping about her, heightening her senses. The brush of his thigh against her cunt made her groan.
One night of passion, throwing caution to the wind, would do wonders for her. She’d been on a sexual dry spell and this hunk was seducing her into promises of ecstasy. He nibbled at her neck and shivers skittered down her spine. How could she think clearly with him doing that?
“Don’t think, Jolie. Just act,” he whispered.