Page 114 of Red Masquerade

“Show them justwhythey’re all damned.” He licked that spot beneath my ear, laving at the flesh, right where my pulse pressed against my skin.

“Who are you?” I whispered, rising to my knees. The friction as his cock left me drove me mad. My hands rested on his shoulders, his cold skin warming with our movements.

He roughly shoved me back down, and his mouth was on mine in a second, drawing my shout into him. He forced his tongue between my lips, dancing with mine, as he moved my hips, stretching my muscles with his size.

I burned.

I burned for him.

“I am their god,” he growled, pulling away long enough to nip at my neck. His teeth were sharp, a moment’s press awayfrom ripping my flesh, but he held back. “And you are mine,” he mumbled against my skin.

The wordSirebroke through the jumbled haze of my mind. If he Made them, he was their Sire.

I squirmed on his cock, the sensation too much for me. He leaned back in his seat, hungry eyes watching as I moved to ride him, as I lifted myself, spearing myself down on him, over and over again. He removed his hands, watching, getting all his pleasure from seeing me use him to pleasure myself.

“They worship you?” I asked, breathless, my hands falling to the muscles of his stomach, moving my hips back and forth.

“They live, breathe, and they die because of me,” he said, steel in his voice. His features turned harsh.

He exuded the power of a Sire, a vampire who created and ruled above others—how had I not seen it before?—and I was suddenly shattering, my muscles clenching around him, the electricity shooting through me from nowhere.

He groaned, his hands falling to me again, forcing my hips to still. My heat gripped him, wanting more of him, wanting himdeeper.

I couldn’t get enough.

I couldn’t breathe, my body so flushed with pleasure, that when he stood, holding me up, I knew if he let go my legs would buckle. He held me steady, and he looked about the room, catching the eyes of many of the vampires, who quickly looked away. Watchingusas they continued their own fucking.

He found Veronica, standing with her arms crossed off to the side, overlooking the movements of the vampires, and nodded once. Some unsaid message.

“Follow me,” he whispered, his arm around me. I could do nothing but obey as he led me to a recessed door, and suddenly the blood party was shut away, and we were alone.

I dropped the robe as soon as the door closed, and Vince’s eyes darkened. “I will never tire of looking at you, my darling.”

I grinned, my lust for him still burning through me. And I knew he wasn’t done either, his arousal still hard. I grabbed him, feeling the wetness of my own arousal on him, and stroked. He groaned.

“Why does it seem like Veronica is in charge?” I asked, continuing my movements. Feeling the ridges of him against my fingers, wondering at how something so big could fit inside me.

His predator eyes landed on me, and were he anyone else, I would know to be afraid.

“Because,” he said through gritted teeth, “no one becomes immortal without our approval.”

“Both of you?” I asked, moving my hand slower, enjoying the hard softness of him in my palm.

“The change comes through her, not me,” he admitted, so easily, as though nothing could be a secret if his cock were in my hand. I could ask him anything, and he’d answer. “She was my first changeling, my first true companion. Because I am her Sire, they are all my changelings. It ismeat the center of it all.”

I leaned over and kissed his jaw, tasting the sweet salt of his sweat. A pang of jealousy went through me—He had bitten someone else, had changed someone else, and it had not been me.

But before I could dwell on it, he lifted me again, and suddenly, my back was flat on cool stone, immediately sending shiversthrough my body. He pushed my legs apart, and I realized I was on a table—an altar of sorts. Reminiscent of the original use of this building.

He grinned at me from between my thighs, his arousal nearing me. “You’re the sacrifice tonight,” he said, and then he climbed up on the cold stone.

Heat coursed through me, my skin on fire. I needed him, needed him to put it out, to end my misery. I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, his face inches from mine. My legs splayed open, waiting.

“Do you want to change me?” I asked, lifting my hips just enough to feel him, urging him on.

He hesitated, keeping himself just out of reach.

“More than anything,” he said, and entered me in one rough thrust. My back arched off the altar, a groan dying in my throat, and he grinned at the sound. One strong hand was planted next to my head, gripping the stone, the other holding my hip flush to him. Having me a second time, in the span of minutes, brought an ache, a soreness that was delicious. He moved in me, grinding our hips together down onto the surface beneath me.