Seducing The Vamp

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To Kevin for helping me with research.

Would you care to dance?" "No, thank you." Vivianne Kachenko smiled at the handsome young stud to soften the sting of her rejection. She eyed the man appreciatively. "I'm sorry. I don't fast dance well. I never have." "A slow one later, then?" he asked, hopeful. "Maybe." She knew she wouldn't. He wasn't her type. For one thing, he was blonde and his hair was way too short for her liking. Sporting the classic Marine high and tight, there wasn't much more than a golden thatch of half-inch long hair on the top of his head. The rest was shaved almost to his scalp. How could she run her fingers through that?

It still didn't stop her from eyeballing his extremely tight ass as he walked away. The man was fine. He just wasn't her type. Curious, she looked around the dimly lit interior. Dance music blared from the loud speakers, reverberating throughout her system. A plethora of men stood around the circular bar, hungrily eyeing the few women who dared to patronize the place. They didn't nickname this bar 'The Meat Market' for nothing. Vivianne tried not to make eye contact. She didn't want to encourage another man who didn't appear to be her type. She turned toward the door, wondering if she should just go home and her gaze found a new man entering the bar. His black trench coat covered his torso and a fedora covered his head. He looked dark, mysterious. Black eyes, set in a stern implacable face stared into hers across the room, over the heads of the shorter men who surrounded him. He appeared young. She should be ashamed for even looking at him with hungry eyes. She licked her lips. He was tall, almost too tall, and dark. How handsome he might be, remained to be seen. Ebony eyebrows slashed over those dangerous eyes. Lips that seemed a hair too red for a man, curved into a smile as he strode her way. His slow gait and confident expression definitely belonged to a man who didn't expect to be rejected. He stood before her, still wearing his hat and coat. His hand reached out. "Dance?" His expression had been so sure, so confident that Vivianne wanted to say no just to make a point. Instead, she found herself inexplicably placing her hand in his, allowing him to pull her to her feet. She looked up into those dark eyes and felt lost. His intense stare held her prisoner. She swallowed thickly and nodded. "Yes, I'd love to." He led her onto the dance floor just as a slow song started to play. "Why don't you take your hat and coat off?" "It adds an air of mystery, don't you think?" Her thoughts told her this man didn't need more mystery shrouding him. His black eyes and hair lent an air of darkness around him. His too pale skin gave him an ethereal look. If she couldn't feel his warmth seeping into her skin through his coat, she could have believed him a corpse due to the whiteness of his skin. "I don't think you need much more mystery surrounding you. Speaking of mystery, what's your name?" "I am called Dimitri." "Ooh, I love that name." It sounded so foreign, so sexy. He bent her backward on the dance floor, his face nearly rested between her breasts. Grabbing his shoulders for balance, her breath caught. "My, you sure know how to sweep a woman off her feet, don't you?" "I try," he chuckled, bending his head to her neck. Her skin tingled in response, gooseflesh rose on her arms and she gasped at the heady sensation of his breath against her skin. He lowered his head, touched his mouth against her galloping pulse and groaned. "You smell so sweet. Tell me --" He nibbled her neck, pressing tiny kisses along the curve of her exposed throat. "-- do you taste as sweet, my little dove?" Vivianne almost snorted. Little and dove were two words that should not be used when describing her. "Want to find out?" she asked, breathless. What are you thinking? What about Michel? You do still love him, do you not? Yes, she did still love the man she'd called friend, lover and husband for more years than she cared to count. But lately, he'd been preoccupied with his work, his friends. She barely came in third place to his other interests. Plus, he'd lost his joie de vivre over the years. Making love had become as predictable as the seasons with him. There were no more surprises in store. The heat had left their relationship. She'd asked him to participate in a fantasy with her, but he'd refused. He'd deemed it childish, even ridiculous. "Are you going to pick me back up or do you plan to hold me like this indefinitely?" She looked around. "I think people are beginning to stare." "Of course." He swept her up into his arms, drew his coat around her like a cloak. "Why don't we go somewhere a bit more . . . private?" Why don't we? She shook her head. "I -- I don't think I should."

He nuzzled her neck again, his tongue doing wonderful things to her ear. Dimitri drew the lobe into his mouth, suckling lightly. Vivianne's breath rushed from her lungs. Only one person had ever made her feel this way before . . . Her womb clenched as she felt real desire for the first time in years. No. She wouldn't think of him now. She would enjoy this night and tomorrow . . . tomorrow she would tell Michel it was over. "Yes, let's find a place much more private." He carried her to his car. His endless strength told her there had to be much more to this man than met the eye. Using her immense knowledge from many long years of existence, she attempted to probe his mind. His thoughts were filled with the erotic sensation of her warm body pressed intimately against his. Nothing more. Coupled with the brush of her soft hair against his cheek and neck, she felt that it made him want her more than he'd ever wanted another. Being more than he seemed, he obviously shielded most of his thoughts from her easily thus making him much stronger than she. Lowering her to her feet next to his expensive car, he helped her into the passenger seat. He closed the door and strode around the front of the vehicle to the driver's side. "Where to, my lady?" he asked, his voice husky. She couldn't place his slight accent. It appeared that the more aroused he became, the thicker his accent grew. She licked her lips, nervous. "There's a small park about six miles west of here." He raised his ebony brow. "Interesting. You're an exhibitionist?" "No. You said that you . . . um, wanted to be alone." She gestured weakly with her hand. "I thought the park would be a good place. There aren't too many people there this time of night." Heat rushed to her face. What in the world was she doing here with this stranger? She should be home, waiting for Michel to return from wherever he went at night these days. Instead, here with this man she didn't know, she actually contemplated an affair. She reached for the door handle. "I shouldn't be here. I --" She stopped when he touched her arm. "Please, don't go." Something about his plea made her pause. Possibly something he said perhaps? Or his warm touch or maybe the impassioned thoughts he projected from his open mind? Still, it made her remove her hand from the door handle and she turned to look at him. He seemed so young. She felt like a pedophile. He couldn't be more than twenty-five or thirty. Still, looks could be deceiving. She and Michel were certainly proof of that. She shook her head in an attempt to dislodge thoughts of her husband from her mind. He had no business here just as she had no business with him on his exploits, as he'd told her several times. She closed her mind to him lest he realize what she was up to and came looking for her. She almost laughed at that. He'd have to give a damn, first. She reached back and latched the seatbelt around her, mindful of what she did. Dimtri started the car, put it in gear and pulled onto the street. "Don't worry. I know a place." He covered her hand with his. Tears filled her eyes. Such a simple gesture, but one Michel hadn't made in so long, she'd forgotten what holding hands felt like. She dashed the tears from her eyes and called herself several kinds of stupid. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm not very good company tonight. Perhaps you should return me to the club where I can pick up my car." His thumb stroked over the back of her hand and her misgivings fled. She frowned. Something about his touch put her at ease. "Where are we going?" She knew she should be alarmed. She sat in a stranger's car being taken God knows where by someone she knew not to be human. But then again, she couldn't call herself human either. "Would it be so bad if I weren't human?" His question answered her as he turned the wheel, guiding the car up a long, winding driveway. "I know you're not human. Why would you like it better if I were one?" "I would just feel --" "Safer?" he asked, chuckling. "You would feel safe because you know you can overpower a human male. Me, on the other hand . . . I'm an unknown entity." His hand squeezed hers. "I'm dangerous because you aren't sure you can stop me from taking what I want."

He brought the car to a smooth stop in front of a three story Victorian. The empty windows of the dark house looked cold, lifeless. It loomed in front of her like a great, hulking shadow. Vivianne's body trembled with dread as she realized she stood on the cusp of betraying her lover of twohundred years. Dimitri slid from the car, walked around and opened her door. He helped her from the vehicle and led her up the stairs to what -- she could only assume -- was his home. They paused outside the door and turned to her, his eyes unreadable. "You can still turn back if that is your wish." She licked her lips. Soon she would reach a point of no return. A point where she couldn't or wouldn't turn back. She hesitated for a moment. "I'm sorry. I don't think I can go through with this. I'm a married woman." His hand rested on the small of her back. The warmth of his touch seeped through her clothes, completely washing away her resistance. What was it about his touch that erased her hesitance, her inhibitions? "It matters little to me that you are already claimed," he said, his tone sharp. "A real man would know where his wife is. He would keep her satisfied so she need not seek out another." He guided her into the house, his hand exerting a gentle, but firm, pressure. He leaned down, whispered in her ear. "I will show you what it is like to truly be desired by your partner." His warm breath fanned over her skin, making her shiver. She both blessed and cursed the moment she'd decided to enter that bar. "Michel used to be that way," she sighed. "He used to be so loving, so attentive . . ." "Shh . . ." He pressed his lips against hers. The gentle pressure pushed all thoughts of Michel into the back of her mind. His tongue caressed the seam of her lips. She opened her mouth at the unspoken request. His tongue plunged into her mouth. The rough velvet rasp caused heat to pool in her middle. Her womb clenched. Wet cream slicked her nether lips and she pressed her thighs together to keep her clit from pulsing in response. Dimitri's arms wrapped around her shoulders, his hands roaming over her back and hips. Her clothing melted away beneath his expert caresses. Vivianne closed her eyes for just a moment. In a minute she would stop him. Stop this madness. For it was madness. She loved Michel. "I -- I can't do this, Dimitri." She pulled back from him. "Yes, you can. This is what you wanted, is it not?" His accent grew thicker, changing, reminding her even more of her beloved Michel. Maybe if she closed her eyes, imagined she was with her lover . . . She wanted this attention. It was just too damn bad she only wanted it from Michel, the fickle male who didn't deserve her fidelity. Squeezing her eyes tight, she tried to reach him through their mental bond. She found nothing but a void. An empty space she'd grown used to over the last eighteen months. He'd cut himself off from her again. Tears burned her eyes. She blinked and allowed him to carry her down into the basement of the large home. Rickety wooden stairs gave way to a rough cement floor. She buried her face in his shoulder, frightened. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't break free from his dark compulsion. The hard concrete floor gave way to stone steps that led them even lower into the bowels of the stately mansion. He carried her into a secret room, one specially designed for depraved acts. She resigned herself then. Michel wouldn't answer her call for help. She was on her own to survive the folly of her poor choices. He set her down on the cold stone floor. Filled with hundreds of torture devices the room appeared ancient. He locked shackles around her wrists and ankles. Spreading her arms and legs wide, he tightened her bonds until she reached the very edge of uncomfortable. "Please," she whimpered. In her mind she called frantically to her love. I do love you, Michel. I'm sorry you couldn't love me. Dimitri reached out and caressed her cheek. "Do you want me to release you or are you finally angry enough to strike back at your negligent lover?" His hand slid down her shoulder, over her back to squeeze her rear. "Answer me," he growled, then slapped her rear. Vivianne groaned. She'd always wanted to try something like this with Michel, but he'd deemed himself too civilized for such a primitive sex act as this.

Her whole body warmed. She looked down at herself. Her shameless body reacted to his abuse. Her nipples tightened and warm moisture filled her womb, threatening to trickle down her thighs. She couldn't possibly be aroused by this. She stood shackled in a makeshift doorway in a veritable dungeon. So, she had a few masochistic tendencies. It didn't mean that she wanted to be abused, then murdered, which was what she felt fairly certain would happen if this continued. He walked behind her, his movement fluid, quiet as he slowly circled her. She felt him. Closing her eyes, she called to Michel again. Why wouldn't he answer her? Did he want her dead? The thought gave her pause. Was this nothing more than a set-up to finally be rid of her? Cautious, she tested her bonds. They were strong, but not nearly strong enough. If things began to get out of hand, she would merely snap them. She wasn't totally powerless. "Are you angry yet, Vivianne?" She clenched her teeth together. How did he know her name? She hadn't told him. It was a set-up. No wonder Michel refused to answer her call. "Yes," she spat, finally, irrevocably pissed. "Of course I'm angry." He continued to circle her. "Are you angry enough to allow yourself to accept pleasure from another man?" Was she? "Yes." She bowed her head, ashamed. How had the two of them come to this end? How had they traveled the long road of life and love to this one of fear and . . . death? "So it begins." He strode across the room to a tall wooden table and grabbed what appeared to be a whip with satiny cords. "First, you shall be punished for taking so long to accept me." He continued to circle her slowly then flicked his wrist. The ends of the silken whip struck the back of her thighs lightly. She jerked on the tight bonds and groaned. "Did you like that, my little dove?" "No." She shook her head. What would he think of her if she told him yes? Would he think less of her as Michel had? "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Do not lie to me. The truth is in your eyes. Do you think I cannot see how they glaze over with need? Do you think me a fool like your precious Michel?" He reached behind her, pulled her hair to force her head back. "Where is he now?" She shook her head, ashamed to tell him she didn't know where her husband was. He gave her a dark smile. "You don't know where he is, do you?" He stepped back, she heard a slight sound and the silken threads hit her again. Her skin tingled, burned, where the supple threads of the whip struck her. "Tell me you like it." She shook her head, her bottom lip between her teeth. "Fine." He threw the whip back onto the table. "Then I shall just have to find another way to make you scream." He reached for a small scrap of black silk on the table near him. Lifting it in his hand, he approached her. A smile split his handsome face and she shivered with a combination of anticipation and dread. What was he up to now? He stepped behind her. She tried to turn to see what he did but her bonds held her nearly immobile. His arms snaked around her shoulders. "Let's see what happens when you can no longer see what is coming." He slid the scrap of black silk over her eyes. "What will you do when you can't prepare yourself for my every move?" She couldn't see! Should she stop this right now? What if he decided to plunge a dagger in her breast instead of play with them? She listened to his every move, trying to guess at his intent. "God," she groaned. "That felt good." He'd brushed something soft against her breast, relieving her. The sensation returned. "What is that?" It turned her on with a slight itch, a tickle. She felt her nipples harden so much they started

to ache. "What does it feel like?" "It tickles." She squirmed as he dragged the object over her nipples, down her belly to her smooth, freshlywaxed sex. "You waxed?" She nodded. Some strange part of her tingled with pleasure, glad he noticed. "Yes. I did it for Michel." At least someone had noticed. "That is so sexy," he growled, trailing his hands over her stomach to her quivering pussy. His fingers brushed her nether lips lightly before sliding through her moist slit to caress her throbbing nub. "He was a fool to ignore you." She sucked a breath in between her teeth when he reached around her with his other hand and sank his finger deep into her pussy. His long finger dipped into her moist hole, rubbing her cream over her rear. He moved his finger back, slowly working it into her ass. The tight hole stretched, grasping his finger while his other hand still stroked her clit. "God, Dimitri," she groaned, "that feels so good." The bonds and the blindfold helped her enjoy the sensations more. With her sense of sight temporarily taken from her, Vivianne's concentration focused on everything she felt. She whimpered when he withdrew his fingers and kissed her. "Why did you stop?" she asked, when his lips left hers to nibble their way down her chest to suck the pebbled tip of her breast. "I want to hear you scream." His mouth left her breast and he kissed his way down her body. On his knees, he grasped her hips in his hands and slid his tongue over her quivering flesh. He knelt between her spread legs. Her position gave him more room to maneuver his shoulders between her thighs. His day-old beard rasped against her thighs, abrading her sensitive skin. His tongue felt like a sweet torture as it slid through her wet pussy, stroking her clit. "I'm going to cum," she panted. God how she wanted to reach down and grab him by the head, hold him to her until she came. She tugged on her bonds, not sure if she really wanted to be free. Perhaps she would play the game a little longer. The feeling of helplessness added to the fantasy. This was just as she'd imagined. Only her partner wasn't Michel as she'd planned, but Dimitri, a strange man she'd picked up in a bar. If she hadn't been so old and so tired of the repetitious life she'd found herself in, the events of this evening would have made her feel like a slut, a tramp, a wanton. She would confess this to Michel when she got home. Tell him that even though they'd been together for two-hundred years, she just couldn't continue the way they were. Her actions tonight only served to prove to her that they were no longer compatible. He would never have considered getting on his knees in front of her to do such wonderful things to her sex with his mouth. She screamed when he sucked her clit into his mouth and drew on the throbbing nub. "I'm cumming!" Her orgasm washed over her, weakening her legs. She sagged against her bonds, hanging from her wrists, her legs no longer able to hold her. All of her weight rested on Dimitri's hands and her shackled wrists. He stood, holding her against his chest as he released her bonds. "I'm going to fuck you, now," he said as she sagged against him. "Do you consent?" Did she? His hands splayed across her back, rubbing her resistance away. What was it about his touch that made her want him so much more? "Yes," she groaned into his shoulder. "Fuck me, Dimitri." "You do not wish to voice your concern over what your chosen mate may think? Have you finally gotten angry enough to exact your revenge for his neglect?" His lip caressed hers shoulder. "This little secret will be yours to hold. He will never know you were here and you will be able to take this memory with you, relive it in your dreams when his is ignoring you again." "No." She shook her head. "I plan to tell him everything when I go home. I'll confess this to Michel." She ran her trembling fingers through her hair and removed the blindfold.

"Why would you tell him? He will never know." She stood up straighter, looked into his eyes. "Because tonight has taught me that I am a very sensual woman. I think I deserve so much more than to be ignored by the man I love." The large hand stroking her hair paused. "And?" Tears filled her eyes. "I'll tell him I can't continue with our relationship the way it is." She sniffed. "It's -- it's over." "He doesn't love you?" She shrugged then wrapped her arms around his neck. "I thought you were going to fuck me," she said, reaching down to fondle his cock. It hardened beneath her hand, growing larger as she rubbed his shaft through his slacks. He nuzzled her cheek with his then, turning his head, he claimed her lips. His tongue stroked her lips, begging entrance to the warm recesses of her mouth. Opening for him, she relaxed into his embrace, allowing his domination as he fisted his hand in her hair and pulled her head back. "Your skin tastes so sweet." He rasped his tongue along the curve of her neck. His teeth nibbled her ear. His sharper incisors grazed the tender flesh of her throat. Her stomach muscles clenched, her womb contracted with need. "I'm going to fuck you now, Vivianne." She whimpered at his words. "Get on with it, then!" she demanded. She wrapped her legs around him and ground her pussy against his cock. "Stop talking and fuck me, dammit." "Your wish is my command, little dove." Damn it, but she was tired of waiting for him to remove his clothing, Vivianne wished them away. They immediately dissolved from his body. The large head of his cock pressed against the dripping opening to her vagina. She sobbed out her pleasure as she flexed her hips, sinking down onto his engorged shaft. "Ah, your tight cunt feels so good," Dimitri hissed out between his teeth. His hands circled her waist, lifting her off his cock so she could lower herself over him again and again. She gazed into his dark eyes, losing herself in the dark-chocolate depths. He lifted her easily, a boon to being one of their kind. "You're going to kill me," he groaned, turning. "I can't take much more of this slow torture." He leaned her shoulders against the cold stone wall. The new position gave him leverage and he pounded into her with abandon. "Yes!" she dug her nails into his shoulders, able to do little more than hang on and enjoy the ride. "Fuck me." His lips trailed over the curve of her breast, his mouth burning a trail over her flesh. He drew her taut nipple into his mouth, suckling gently. "Harder," she keened. "Please fuck me harder." He drove into her, his cock pistoning in and out of her dripping channel. She wrapped one hand around his head, pulling him to her. "Bite it," she demanded. "God, Dimitri, bite me!" He complied, swirling his tongue around the hard bud, he sank his teeth into her breast. Her vagina clenched, milking his hard shaft. "Give it to me!" He turned, slammed her onto the table and drove into her. "It's about damn time you lost control," she panted. Her breath came in little gasps as he pounded his cock into her. The table groaned under the force of each thrust, the feet screeched against the floor as the table jerked slowly across the room. "Harder," she sobbed. He grabbed her legs, forced her knees to her chest and rode her hard. "Take it, damn it." He threw her legs over his shoulders. "Take every damn inch of it." He reached between them and thrummed her clit. Vivianne screamed out another orgasm. She hadn't been fucked like this in ages. Her voice grew hoarse as she screamed her pleasure over and over again.

Soon the heat built inside her again, spreading throughout her body. She felt inflamed, on fire. The flames fed by a fuel that would never be extinguished. Tears trickled from her eyes as she came again. Fast becoming exhausted, she moaned knowing Dimitri didn't even seem close to his climax. He'd kill her if he didn't come soon. She watched him over her. The soft light caressed the harsh angles of his face, highlighting his muscular frame. When he smiled down at her, she reached up to smooth his adorable dimple. "Why haven't you came?" she asked with a frown. "Can't you?" She worried her lower lip. "Don't be so anxious for it, love," he said, still rocking gently above her. "I still have plans for you." He stood straight, grasped his cock with his hand stroked the incredible length, his fist barely able to encompass the circumference. His fist pumped it expertly. She licked her lips as a small pearl of moisture beaded on the head. His eyes darkened to dark-chocolate. "Don't tempt me. I'm almost out of control as it is." His hips jerked in response as she reached out to fondle his sac. "Stand up and bend over the table," he growled, the sound not quite human. He strode to the table that held the sex toys and bondage accessories while she did as he directed. "What . . ." "Close your eyes and trust me." Vivianne closed her eyes, willingly surrendering herself to his delight. She felt so exposed, bent over the table like this, her bare ass in the air. Something warm trickled between her cheeks. His fingers rubbed the warm, slick liquid into her. His finger entered the tiny hole, stretching it, readying her for his invasion. She moaned when another finger joined the first. "Have you ever been fucked here?" She shook her head, her eyes still squeezed tight. "No." "Ah, a virgin. I'm lucky then." He removed his fingers and replaced them with the head of his cock, pushing gently, slowly. No amount of finger fucking could have prepared her for the entry of his massive shaft. When the head finally passed the outer ring of her ass, the oil allowed him to slide deep in her ass, easily. She moaned when his balls slapped her pussy and she silently wished he fucked her there too. "I have a surprise for you, little dove," he breathed the words in her ear, caressing the outer shell with his tongue. She gasped when she felt the firm but gentle pressure at the entrance to her cunt. He couldn't mean to . . . He sank the large, pulsing vibrator deep into her weeping pussy. "Aieeeee!" she screamed as he pumped his cock and the realistic feeling vibrator in and out of her exposed holes. "Come for me," he whispered. She panted beneath him, reaching for just that. He slapped her ass. "I said come for me." She grabbed the sides of the table and forced herself back into his thrusts. He slapped her again. "You don't listen well, do you?" She shook her head. "No. You'll just have to spank me until I do," she invited. His hand made contact again and again as he rode her. Unbelievably, his cock swelled even more inside her as he finally neared his climax. "I'm going to come, little dove," he groaned, resting his forehead on her back. "Fuck me!" She keened. "I'm coming!" She ground her ass back into him. He grabbed her hips tighter, pulling her back onto his pumping shaft. She grinned in triumph as he finally climaxed. Hot jets of semen shot deep into her ass and she collapsed onto the tabletop finally spent. Dimitri bent over her, his hand fisted in her hair. "I'm not through with you, Vivianne." His breathing labored as perspiration covered his body in a fine glistening layer. She longed to sit up and lick that moisture from his flat brown nipples but she was just too exhausted. He twisted his hand, turned her head and kissed her roughly. "You've been a very naughty girl." She nodded her agreement, tears leaked from her eyes and dropped onto the table. "You're right. I have been." She swiped her hands over her face, trying to dry her tears. "I should have ended things with Michel

first." She'd devalued herself by having this affair, this one night stand with a complete stranger. Still panting, she looked around the room, no longer frightened, no longer wanting this man, she only wanted to go home, confess this to Michel and beg his forgiveness. "Get up, you slut." Dimitri slapped her ass then pulled away from her. How many times had she asked Michel to talk dirty to her, trying to put some excitement back into their sex life. When Dimitri called her that, it was true. She stood, her head bowed. "What do you want?" "Make a wish." "Excuse me?" She wiped more tears from her face and looked up into his eyes. "If you could have one wish right now, what would it be?" he asked, reaching up to brush her hair back from her face. "I would wish that I'd never been unfaithful to Michel." She turned away, walked to the large bed in the corner of the room and threw herself down on her stomach, sobbing into the pillow. The bed dipped beneath his weight as he gently stroked her back. "Even after living as one of us for as long as you have, you still do not know the extent of our power, do you? You were afraid it would change who you are." She nodded. How could he possibly know that she'd balked at learning about her strange, new powers. Afraid that it would change her, she'd refused, thinking it would somehow ruin her perfect relationship with Michel. The relationship she'd ruined anyway. What a fool she'd been. "Sit up," he said, grasping her arm and gently tugging her to a sitting position. He turned his back, dressing himself with a thought. His short hair lengthened to shoulder length jet strands. His pale skin darkened to a tawny shade and shook her head, not believing her eyes. When he turned, his silver blue eyes gazed into hers. She collapsed on the bed in recognition. Covering her face with her hands, she sobbed, begging his forgiveness. "Sh . . ." he wrapped his arms around her. He whispered something to her in his ancient language, one she'd never taken the time or the effort to learn. She realized at that moment that, in her own way, she'd withheld herself from him, too. "Come. Rest your head on my shoulder, minia stoloka." Vivianne had heard that so many times over the years, it was Michel's pet name for her, yet she'd never bothered to ask him what it meant. She looked into those clear, blue eyes. "What does that mean?" He smiled, kissed her softly on the lips. "It means, my little dove." She buried her head in her hands. "Can you ever forgive me?" His large hand rubbed circles on her back. "Forgive you for what?" He leaned over, kissed her tears away. "For fighting the strong compulsion of a more powerful vampire? It is I who should ask your forgiveness." He lifted her into his lap, stroked the still damp hair from her face. "I wanted to surprise you with this, your fantasy." He waved his hand. "I bought this house for you. I never should have spent so much time away from you." She shook her head. "I should have trusted you." "Blind trust is not what I want, minia stoloka. I want your love." Then he grinned. "And your body. They are all I have ever wanted. Tears burned her eyes as she looked up at him, trying to show her love for him in her eyes. "I do love you, Michel."

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Tianna Xander is the author of several paranormal, time-travel and science fiction romance novels, including Virgin's Blood available now at eXtasy Books. She loves reading everything from romance novels, murder mysteries and encyclopedias, to handbooks on solar energy. Tianna is the first to admit she spends far too much time surfing the internet and chatting with her online friends and critique groups. Having written four novels and working on at least one more at any given time -- Tianna still finds time for her family, friends and her many pets. She currently lives in Michigan with her husband, two children, a pair of cats, two big dogs and one occasionally terrorized Netherland Dwarf bunny. Her life is anything but boring.