Page 34 of Stolen Hours

“Damn right I did.” I move the tip over his small, tight nipples, watching him twitch, feeling an answering urgent throb in my pussy. His hand reaches down to rub my clit, and I grab his wrist. “You didn’t ask, vamp.”

“Can I rub that pretty pussy, baby? To show you what a good boy I can be?” he pants, even though he technically doesn’t need to breathe to exist. “Pretty little hunter’s clit. Bet that stake would feel good against it.”

“Mm.”It would.

“But not as good as my tongue.” He licks his fangs, and I jab him lightly with the toy, right over the heart.

“Behave. Fangs away.”

“Should let me bite you one day, Penny. Just a little. While you’re coming. It’ll send you into another world, an endorphine high that’ll make you see stars.” Brax licks his lips and grabs her thighs, pinning her to his bucking hips as he goes wild inside of her, arching and rocking just the way she likes, able to do things at speeds mortal men couldn’t achieve, with stamina even the most athletic men couldn’t touch.

And he’s all mine.

All mine. Every inch mine.

I feel the invisible walls break down inside me, everything going liquid and jelly-like, leaving me wet and quivering, falling forward with a strained yell of pleasure.

The “stake” is gone, and Brax is still rutting in me like some unchained beast, back on top, fangs inches from my neck. “Another one, Penny. Another one, I can give you one more, pretty girl, just let me have a sweet taste of you.”

He already has, once or twice, and he’s right, it feels good when he wants it to, when it’s not an attack. It’s more that I have a problem deciding it’s okay—especially since I know Brax wasn’t a vampire who was turned for some noble cause or who has never taken an innocent human life. There are a handful of these “good, still got a soul” vampires in Pine Ridge who have never fed the inhabiting immortal essence that makes them the “undead.”

Brax isn’t one of them. In fact, he only stopped killing a few years ago, thanks to a curse from an angry ex, a Voodoo Queen who just bit the dust last winter, freeing up his fangs.

Fangs now gently closing against my nipple, hard, crinkled flesh meeting something sharp as he continues to fuck my spasming pussy, milking more pleasure out of me than I knew existed.

“Truce?” I say, just like I said the first time we had to work together to save ourselves from a spell gone wrong.

“Terms?” he demands, voice ragged.

“You can’t come yet. But you can bite—not there!” I squeak when the fangs brush my breast hard, and my skin goes cold and goosebumpy with sudden nerves.

“I never would, babe. That might hurt. I know the good spots, don’t I? But not coming?” Brax looks skeptical.

“Monsters want all the pleasure,” I remind him, grabbing the stake again and running it along his back—until it teases the curve of his hip.

He bites down suddenly, hard, on my neck, while his cock and hand piston between my legs, one inside, one outside, making me mewl as the ceiling seems to spiral.

“Fuuck!” he roars, lifting bloody lips and pulling out of me so fast we both might have whiplash. “You’re the evil one, Pen,” he hisses, hand around his cockas it drips pre-cum, slick with my arousal. He rubs himself fast until I grab his wrist, pinning it to his abs.

“You’ll come if you do that. And you can’t come until I’ve proven this monster doesn’t need to be staked,” I remind him, eyes still trying to focus, knees still wobbly. “Or rather, that he can take a good staking...”

While Brax stares up at me with that bloodlust-meets-actual-lust expression, I shake out the black bag again, finding lube, and acting like I know what I’m doing. I always had to act that way, the fierce pretender, pretty skirts, fast boots, and weapons in my purse. Now? I’m safe. I think most of the monsters in Pine Ridge would fall firmly in the “good guy” category, and the best motivator is love.

Brax loves me. That’s why he’s my precious plaything, and I’m his. “You sure you want to play games like this?” I whisper, lube hesitating over the highest point of his inner thigh.

Brax nods, pupils blown wide in a sea of red. “God, yes. I want you to see I’m your good little vamp, Penny.”

“You already are, because you love me, and you want a new life. You don’t have to prove it for real.”

“I do, and I do that every day by helping people at the hospital, and helping you study, and pet-sitting the cats for the neighbor. But that’s for real. This is for play, and you’ll ruin the mood, hunter, if you don’t take control. Otherwise, I might get rowdy again. Always wanted to stake a hunter, too.” His eyes travel back to the smooth, tapering string of beads that are supposed to go inside my ass later.

“I think you already did that,” I laugh as I sink my head over his cock, mouth gulping it down in one smooth, greedy swipe, throat straining at the back because of his size. But while he’s distracted, moaning and starting to bounce his hips, working in and out of my mouth, I spray a stream of lube down between his cheeks, my stomach and pussy tight with anticipation.

All of these less-than-vanilla games are new to me. Tasting myself on his cock, finding my airway in danger, feeling the pinching throb from where he bit my neck? All of that is new.

Sticking a toy in someone and being responsible for giving them an orgasm with a part I don’t naturally have? Also scary and sexy. New.

My fingers rub the slippery stuff in between his cheeks while I try not to wonder why I get so wet licking my cum off of his cock, why the puncture in my neck seems to be connected to my clit.