Read NocC 012 - Caridad Pineiro - The Vampire's Consort - Harlequin 2012-04 for Free Online Page A
Authors: Nocturne
breaking the physical connection with her. Leaving her feeling cold and almost abandoned by the withdrawal.
Shifting to her side, she gazed at him, needing to talk. Aware that Adrian rarely wanted to share chit-chat afterward. Only the young Slayer he had bedded had yanked words out of him, and only because it had been a matter of life or death, hers in that case.
“Adrian,” she said and ran her hand across the center of his chest, but he didn’t stir.
Rising up higher, she realized he was dead to this world, and as she gazed toward the door to his room, the faint spill of light from the windows in her bedroom explained at least part of the reason for his unresponsiveness.
She was sure the alcohol and feeding had also contributed, but to press for more now was useless.
The rise of the sun had taken him away to wherever vamps went for those morning hours. He would not wake again until the early afternoon when the sun’s power had waned a bit.
She welcomed the enforced respite, needing to tend to her emotions and figure out just what had happened and the why of it. Needing to consider just how she would approach him afterward and what she would ask of him and he of her.
She was his consort; in the vampire world, masters might feed on or fuck their servants, but they didn’t fall in love with them.
Although she wished Adrian might be different, it was just that: a wish. As her mother had repeatedly told her during the hard times in Ireland, "If wishes were pennies, there would be no beggars." Eliza had begged for nothing in her life, not even as she lay dying from consumption.
She was not about to start begging now.
Chapter Six
So sweet, Adrian thought, the sight and taste of Eliza’s luscious breasts playing through his vamp dreams. Chasing images of her thin but curvy body and elegant long legs as she wrapped them around his waist and urged him on.
So wet and warm. Incredibly warm, he repeated, sensing the stirring of his body in response to the erotic dreams. Experiencing the awakening of his undead body, pulling him from the pleasurable visions of his daytime slumber.
He battled waking, preferring the almost too real dreams of having Eliza beneath him. Above him.
Beside him, the heat of her body chasing away his chill. The softness of her inner thigh caressing his cock, teasing him to want so much more.
He groaned at the rush of blood to his dick, feeling lightheaded for a moment, but only for a moment.
He must have fed last night. The surge of life engorging him was too heady not to have come from the taste of a human, but try as he might he could not recall picking up any female last night.
All he could remember was Eliza.
He groaned again, pained from his morning desire and guilt that those too real dreams of his consort were just that. Real.
Grabbing his cock, he stroked hard, trying to relieve himself while also trying to recall what had happened last night. All he could remember was drinking enough whiskey to drown an army of Irishmen and Jamie dragging him home. Dumping him in his bed.
Eliza scolding. Undressing him.
His dick twitched in his hand at the imagining of Eliza’s hands on him. Of her body close to his. With a harsh curse, he threw off the covers and the smell of her assailed his awakened vamp senses, confirming that Eliza had been there last night.
Unable to bear the thought that he had taken her in his besotted state, and unwilling to have her find him relieving himself of his desire for her, he flew from the bed to his bathroom. Turning on the shower, he made it as hot as he could stand it and stepped inside, letting the water sluice over him. Washing away traces of the alcohol which almost oozed out of his pores. The heat of it loosened the knot of tension in his brain, allowing a surge of disjointed memories to run through his mind.
Eliza above him, soothing him with an angel’s touch. The tips of her long red curls skimming along his skin as she bent
Shifting to her side, she gazed at him, needing to talk. Aware that Adrian rarely wanted to share chit-chat afterward. Only the young Slayer he had bedded had yanked words out of him, and only because it had been a matter of life or death, hers in that case.
“Adrian,” she said and ran her hand across the center of his chest, but he didn’t stir.
Rising up higher, she realized he was dead to this world, and as she gazed toward the door to his room, the faint spill of light from the windows in her bedroom explained at least part of the reason for his unresponsiveness.
She was sure the alcohol and feeding had also contributed, but to press for more now was useless.
The rise of the sun had taken him away to wherever vamps went for those morning hours. He would not wake again until the early afternoon when the sun’s power had waned a bit.
She welcomed the enforced respite, needing to tend to her emotions and figure out just what had happened and the why of it. Needing to consider just how she would approach him afterward and what she would ask of him and he of her.
She was his consort; in the vampire world, masters might feed on or fuck their servants, but they didn’t fall in love with them.
Although she wished Adrian might be different, it was just that: a wish. As her mother had repeatedly told her during the hard times in Ireland, "If wishes were pennies, there would be no beggars." Eliza had begged for nothing in her life, not even as she lay dying from consumption.
She was not about to start begging now.
Chapter Six
So sweet, Adrian thought, the sight and taste of Eliza’s luscious breasts playing through his vamp dreams. Chasing images of her thin but curvy body and elegant long legs as she wrapped them around his waist and urged him on.
So wet and warm. Incredibly warm, he repeated, sensing the stirring of his body in response to the erotic dreams. Experiencing the awakening of his undead body, pulling him from the pleasurable visions of his daytime slumber.
He battled waking, preferring the almost too real dreams of having Eliza beneath him. Above him.
Beside him, the heat of her body chasing away his chill. The softness of her inner thigh caressing his cock, teasing him to want so much more.
He groaned at the rush of blood to his dick, feeling lightheaded for a moment, but only for a moment.
He must have fed last night. The surge of life engorging him was too heady not to have come from the taste of a human, but try as he might he could not recall picking up any female last night.
All he could remember was Eliza.
He groaned again, pained from his morning desire and guilt that those too real dreams of his consort were just that. Real.
Grabbing his cock, he stroked hard, trying to relieve himself while also trying to recall what had happened last night. All he could remember was drinking enough whiskey to drown an army of Irishmen and Jamie dragging him home. Dumping him in his bed.
Eliza scolding. Undressing him.
His dick twitched in his hand at the imagining of Eliza’s hands on him. Of her body close to his. With a harsh curse, he threw off the covers and the smell of her assailed his awakened vamp senses, confirming that Eliza had been there last night.
Unable to bear the thought that he had taken her in his besotted state, and unwilling to have her find him relieving himself of his desire for her, he flew from the bed to his bathroom. Turning on the shower, he made it as hot as he could stand it and stepped inside, letting the water sluice over him. Washing away traces of the alcohol which almost oozed out of his pores. The heat of it loosened the knot of tension in his brain, allowing a surge of disjointed memories to run through his mind.
Eliza above him, soothing him with an angel’s touch. The tips of her long red curls skimming along his skin as she bent
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