Total-e-bound www.total-e-bound.com Copyright ©2008 by Aurora Rose Lynn First published in 2008, 2008 NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
CONTENTS VAMPIRE'S CAPTIVE Dedication Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six About the Author Total-E-Bound Publishing ****
A Total-e-bound Publication **** **** www.total-e-bound.com Vampire's Captive ISBN #978-1-906590-75-8 ©Copyright Aurora Rose Lynn Cover Art by Lyn Taylor ©Copyright June 2008 Edited by Michele Paulin Total-e-bound books This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author's imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-e-bound eBooks. Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-e-bound eBooks. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution. The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork. Published in 2008 by Total-e-bound eBooks 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK. Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Totale-burning.
VAMPIRE'S CAPTIVE Aurora Rose Lynn [Back to Table of Contents]
Dedication For my wonderful readers Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Armani: GA Modefine S.A. Corporation [Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter One The moon bathed the ocean and the dilapidated carnival on the pier with its silvery glow and cast the forlorn woman in her long wedding gown in breathy, expectant shadows. Brett's guilt washed over him for the hundredth time since seeing his ex-wife step out of her fancy, expensive heels and, without giving them a backward glance, stroll dejectedly onto the beach, her shoulders slumped and her back hunched forward. He'd wondered for a year, five months, two days, and five and a half hours—give or take a couple of minutes—if he'd done the right thing in divorcing Sierra. He was an eternal vampire and she was a mortal, although a devastatingly lovely mortal with sleek dark hair that swept her waist and an innocent, beguiling expression that lured jaded, hardened men from their complacency about the fair sex. And yet the man she now loved hadn't even bothered to make it to the altar today. He'd left her standing in the annex holding a wilting bouquet of pale pink roses and baby's breath and a heart that had been hurt far too many times. Brett didn't believe in God, but he tossed a short prayer into the air asking that Sierra forgive him for what he was about to do. He spoke her name softly, like a dry leaf scudding along the sidewalk. “Sierra." She didn't jump as he'd expected. She merely turned to gaze at him over her shoulder, then, without a spark of recognition, returned to her survey of the pounding waves and the invisible horizon darkness had obliterated. He knew he shouldn't have come, should have stayed away from her, but how could he when she felt betrayed, as if her whole world had collapsed? First him and then this man with whom she'd thought she could spend the rest of her life. He took a deep breath, seized her wrist, and spun her around to face him. “Look at me." She was exquisite in the off-the-shoulder gown. Bare neck, bare shoulders. She blinked several times. “What do you want, Brett?” she asked in resignation. He heard the unspoken accusation, wanted to take her in his arms and make her promises of forever, but the tears rolling down her cheeks, one by lonely one, stopped him. She frowned. “So? You're not often left speechless. A man who must have a great deal of experience with all types of women. Why did you come?” Under the jewelled bodice, her breasts rose and fell. Anger simmered near the surface, waiting with eager tentacles for the wrong words to leap into life. Brett didn't want her to be alone. Or ashamed at being left at the altar, which was partly his fault. If he hadn't divorced her, would she be happier with him? “I wanted to see if you're okay.” Lame, but it was the best he could do. "Really?” She would have turned away, but he grabbed her other wrist and held her at a distance in case she decided to fight him and perhaps knee him in the groin. He didn't want the night to end before it began. How could he tell her he'd made a mistake? She was in the throes of rejection, and this wasn't a good time to mention his deepest regrets. “I want to be your friend." "Why? So you can jilt me like Ade did? Or better yet, divorce me after you promised me the moon?” Sierra laughed at that, a high-pitched nervous laugh. “Promise the moon and you know what I end up with? Broken promises and a hurt that sinks so deep, you can never get rid of it.” She kicked sand towards him with her bare foot attached to a slim, shapely ankle that got his heartbeat racing with desire. He'd come partly to console her, partly to get her back into his bed. He missed her warm presence, the laughter of delight and the sensuous woman usually hidden under clothes that didn't do her perfection justice. Her breasts were small and firm beneath his palms, her waist tiny, and her thighs were as soft as spun silk but as strong as steel during their passionate encounters. “If I admit I'm a sleazeball, will you forgive me and give me another chance?" Her nostrils flared. She squinted her eyes shut as if thinking, flashed them open and asked, “For what?” Bitterness enveloped the words. Her eyes met his, questioning, determined not to be hurt again and yet hurting at a fathomless depth he could only imagine.
Then the truth kicked him in the nuts with a woomph. She still loved him, had never stopped loving him. The gaping chasm of loneliness tore at him. She was the only women he'd ever loved and he'd pushed her away, alienating her, perhaps forever. He could try to persuade her with every method he knew, but once her mind was made up, he knew from experience, it was almost impossible to change it. Almost. He released her hands and let his own fall to his sides, although he yearned to take her into his arms and make love to her until the sun rose to create glittering diamonds of the morning dew on the grass by the carnival. He gave a nonchalant shrug. “Forgive me for letting you go." She toyed with the pendant at the base of her throat. Two hearts intertwined. A forefinger caressing the cold, lifeless diamonds. Listlessly, she gave him a brash head to toe appraisal. He'd dressed the way she liked. Black two piece Armani suit with spotless white, long-sleeved shirt and polished shoes she could see herself in. And not a stitch underneath the costly clothes. “Is that why you came tonight?" Brett realised he'd somehow missed a vital connection point with her. “I made a mistake. The biggest one of my life—" "And how long has that been?” She already knew the answer. "Four hundred years, give or take a few seconds or so." She harrumphed, still disbelieving that anyone could live that long. "Let me make love to you, Sier. To show you how I feel.” He held his breath in anticipation of her reply. Would she tell him to shove off or would she fall into his arms and allow him to fully undress her, to make love to every single inch of her gorgeous body? The waves crashed onto the beach in an otherwise still world illuminated by the moon's bright orb. Behind him, the carnival rides, long ago having fallen into disuse, stood like grim, watching ghosts of a time gone by. A stiff breeze surged to life, played with the fine hairs on the back of his neck. He shivered. She swallowed. Her skin was pale under the moonlight. How he forced himself to stand still and keep his hands to himself, he didn't know. He was rapidly losing control of his urge to have her. And she liked her lovemaking rough the first time and tender after. Sudden inspiration came, quite probably brought to life from his heavily aroused state. “If I make my intentions known and ravish you, then will you make love to me?” he asked. Her eyes narrowed speculatively. Brett had his answer from the tiny huff she gave and the slight panting from parted lips. His grin was broad and non-threatening as he pushed up his sleeve to take a disinterested look at his watch. “There are all those old rides there. I'll give you five minutes to hide, then I'll come searching for you. And then you're mine tonight." Sierra didn't immediately launch into playing the lust game, as they'd called their foreplay before sex. “What makes you think I want to play with you? Or anyone else?" So she wasn't going to give in without a fight. “For one, you find me irresistible. Two, I'm trying my damnedest to take your mind off the day's events. Third—" She put her hand up with her palm up to stop him. “I get it. But don't you think it's too soon to hop into bed with you? Can't you let me grieve over what might have been?" He took hold of her fingers and raised them to his face. He felt her pulse trip over itself. “Don't you think you've had plenty of time for that? Like the whole afternoon?” He licked her forefinger. Liquid fire raced up his spine. His cock was harder than a rock, and he thought he might explode. She wouldn't say “no", would she? If she did, he'd end up in a whole heap of trouble. "You've never been very patient, so why start now?” she murmured. Her eyelashes fluttered over her eyes, veiling them.
"No.” Brett knew then he had her hooked. When she bestowed her heated gaze on him, he sensed the afternoon's tumultuous happenings dissolve into the comfort of relief. She threw herself at him, pressed her length against his body. He smelled the faint trace of fragrant roses and the summery scent of hairspray. "You never stopped loving me, did you?” she exclaimed, the hurt still in her eyes, but there was something else there now. A playfulness he hadn't seen in a long, long time. Not since before the divorce. He shook his head and drew her face to his, demanding a furtive kiss before her pleasure, and his, began. She laughed, a pretty sound filled with naughty suggestions. “Look at you, Brett. You're really hard up, aren't you?" The vixen ran her palm over his rigid dick, giving it a tight squeeze before she lifted her skirts and sprinted off towards the carnival. Glancing over her left shoulder, she shouted, “You'll have to earn that kiss!" Reluctantly, he tore his gaze from her and loosened his black silk tie in an attempt to alleviate the pressure at his throat. He dug in his pocket for a cigarette and sank to his ass to sit cross-legged on the sand. Unlit, he shoved the cigarette between his lips and told himself five minutes of waiting in his condition would be far worse than an eternity in hell. [Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Two Patience wasn't part of his mental makeup. Brett sweated and toiled to remain calm even though his heartbeat did the cha-cha and his erection pulsed with a fierce ache. What stupidity had led him to divorce Sierra in the first place? Fear, he admitted. Fear that he'd lose her to the one thing that eluded him with its finality. Death, the enemy of all mortals who lived. But divorce hadn't been the right solution. He'd realised that as soon as the finalised divorce papers had arrived. Sitting at his desk in his opulent Southern Californian home by the ocean, a haunting emptiness, so reminiscent of being in a damp and cold room made of stone, overtook him in its tenacious grip. His pride had deflated when he'd learned of Sierra's upcoming wedding, but he'd wished her happiness from the very depths of his being. Hidden from her sight, he'd watched her stroll into the church and out of his reach forever. She'd walked in a blaze of glory, the sun shining around her like a golden halo, and even with sunglasses the white of her gown had blinded him as he stood under the shade of a towering oak. Intermittently, gems from her bodice had twinkled at him, teasing him. Look at what you've done, you moron. You've lost the only woman you've ever loved. Seeing her in the voluminous gown had brought back memories of his own wedding night. He fell to his knees in the middle of the penthouse bedroom, an area he couldn't now describe although they'd spent four days and three nights there erotically wrapped around each other. His intention had been to worship her with his hands, to show her how much he loved her with every part of his body, including his hungering erection. In some respects, he was a lout, he admitted. He would have hastened to rip off another woman's clothes and thrust into her welcoming sheath as if the very devil was provoking him. But with Sierra it was different. She needed—no demanded—slow, tender lovemaking that made his head spin and his fragile control almost snap. Slipping his hand under the taffeta of her wedding gown and trailing his hot palm along her trembling outer thigh had made Sierra quiver with need under his experienced touch. She'd openly admitted she'd not had many lovers but he had discovered to his delight, that although she was old-fashioned, she was no prude. When he'd begun to tug the flimsy, lace garter down her thigh, she'd shattered into a blissful orgasm. Her fingers had dug into the fabric of his tuxedo and into his shoulders. Kneeling at her feet, he'd looked up to find her head tipped back, and her lips open in a silent cry of pleasure. He'd sighed and unsteadily gotten to his feet, putting aside his body's demands for the moment. One by one, repressing his impatience at the frivolities women indulged in on their wedding day, he'd unfastened each button at her back, pulling aside the whispering fabric and pressing tiny kisses against her spine. She'd moaned and tried to pull her arms out from the sleeves. “Wait, mon petite,” he'd exclaimed. “I haven't unbuttoned these infernal pearls yet." "Can't you just rip them off? I won't be getting married again, so I won't need it." A moment's apprehensiveness had filled Brett. Would she want to have children? She knew he was fine in the sex department but not when it came to creating babies. Would she miss that part of her life and accuse him as she got older and the time she was fertile withered away leaving her with nothing but regrets, and perhaps hate for the man she'd once loved? He couldn't let himself think of those things—not on their wedding night. Maybe later he could make amends and they could adopt children, but that in itself would open a whole can of proverbial worms. What child would want an undead for a father? "Brett?” Sierra had intruded on his morbid conjecture. He must have frozen, taken away deep in thought to places he should never have touched. “I love you,” he'd murmured, quickly unbuttoning the remainder of the fasteners. She'd spun around even as the bodice fell down over the tips of her breasts and he'd caught a glimpse of his version of heaven, no saints or angels welcome. “Why did you freeze?” she'd asked, exposing her vulnerability that was usually so close to the surface but which she managed to cleverly hide. Her cheeks had flushed a delicate pink and her lips had parted erotically. A man, even though he wasn't part of the wholly living, had only to gaze at her to be tempted beyond what he could reasonably bear. "I was thinking how much I love you,” he'd replied in a husky voice unlike his usual careful tone.
"I thought,” she'd paused, obviously grasping for the right words, “that you'd changed your mind." "About us?” he'd asked much too curtly as he'd cursed himself for being a stupid, bumbling oaf. Why couldn't he let worry about the future sink into oblivion on their wedding night? She'd nodded and played her moist tongue over her lower lip glossed with pearl pink lipstick. “I want you forever and forever.” Sierra had thrown her arms around his neck and held him close. Her heartbeat had hammered against his chest. How could he have been so stupid to think he could get married and live beyond the confines of perplexing future scenarios? He'd run his palm over the back of her head, catching the calloused skin on diamondencrusted hairpins and cursed inwardly. “I love you, Sierra. Forever. You know that. No woman has ever snared me with her beautiful golden brown eyes and looked at me quite the way you do." She'd smiled with a poignancy that cut him right to his heart. “I don't know who you are, Brett Wolfe, but you make my life a good place to be." The image of her saddened eyes and the sensuous feeling of her breasts against his chest faded away at the repeated, “Brett? Brett? I'm ready. Where are you?" He opened his eyes and found his cheeks stained with tears. He'd started in on the regrets again. Even though he'd not smoked his cigarette, filthy habit as it was, he edged it into the sand as if he was putting it out and the flame still burned at the end. Hadn't he learned anything the first time around with Sierra? If he screwed up this time, there was no turning back the clocks. She rarely forgave anyone, preferring to number them with countless felons. He should be glad she'd given him a second chance. Brett vowed that this time he wouldn't screw up. He'd do everything in his power to win Sierra back. Even if it killed him. [Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Three "Brett? Brett? I'm ready. Where are you?” Sierra called out again. Brett couldn't decide whether it was his guilt colouring her words or whether she really did sound lost. And vulnerable. As if she wasn't sure whether he'd abandon her or not. Again. "Ready or not! I'm coming!” he called out above the crashing waves to make certain she heard him. He should have paid attention to the passing of time instead of sitting in the sand and brooding, wondering how he could make amends. He loved her. Wasn't that enough rather than the continual soul searching? With his extraordinary hearing, courtesy of being undead, he knew exactly where she was hiding, but he made out as if he didn't and searched for her for several excruciating minutes. All he could think of was holding her in his arms and never, ever letting her go. When he found her, she was hunkered down against one battered structural beam in what had once housed gaily coloured carousel horses. Not many were left. Most had been pilfered as keepsakes, leaving gaping holes and a haunted empty space echoing with remembered laughter from days gone by that nothing short of bulldozing would erase. Sierra had slipped out of her wedding dress, which was draped artlessly over one of the remaining horses whose wide open, garish eyes were faded and its teeth rotted against the once festive bridle. She wore nothing more than a strapless bra and white panties that rode low on her sleek hips. He gave a soft whistle and watched her expression closely for any signs of reluctance or fear. If he saw the slightest trace, he'd tell her he couldn't continue to play. The heat still played havoc with the air, and to his chagrin, he realised he was perspiring. "Ah,” he said, stepping onto the carousel. “A pretty lady ripe for the taking." "What took you so long?” Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "I was reminiscing. About our wedding night.” Brett tugged at his tie, wishing the breeze that blew in from the ocean was cooler and would fan his heated skin to a more bearable temperature. It was what it was, he conceded, only too glad to see Sierra's light-hearted playfulness. He could only imagine the heartache she'd felt when Ade hadn't shown up. "That was a long time ago,” she chided gently, jiggling her hips erotically. The woman was one fluid line of graceful femininity, grasping the pillar with both hands and giving him a tantalising view of firm, bare arms, a hint of uplifted breast, and smooth skin along her thighs and shapely lower leg. Even the red polish on her toenails made his dick harder. Painfully harder. "Now that I've found you,” he began with their game, “I'm going to tie you up and have my way with you.” He kept his voice husky but carefully non-threatening. It had been a while since they'd played together. Her eyes widened in mock terror. “You can't do that! I won't let you!" He chuckled. He had nothing to fear as far as Sierra's willingness to play. She may not have married Ade, but she still deserved Brett Wolfe giving her a real good time. Brett remembered she liked it when he used dirty words during foreplay. “You want me to fuck you, don't you?" She nodded. Her wrists were warm as he encircled them and tied them together on the far side of the pillar with his tie—very loose so she could free herself if she desired. With a sensual energy he hadn't felt in a long while, he ripped her bra away. Barely two scraps of insubstantial material. She looked up at him with a vulnerable expression that almost did him in right there on the spot. "I want to see all of you,” he ground out in a hoarse voice. He'd missed her so much. He tore at her panties and threw them to the floor. She was completely and tantalisingly nude now. Bare ass, bare breasts and sheer sexual appeal. "The only thing missing,” Brett told her quietly, “are the high heels you used to wear for our games.” The image of spiked heels protruding from behind her rounded ass turned the heat up in his body.
He knelt down beside her, cupped her face between his large hands. She was so small and fragile compared to his huge size. She worried her lower lip with her upper teeth and gave him a coy look, pretending to be the distressed maiden about to have her body plundered by a man from the darkness. "Are you sure about this?” He kissed her lips with a feather light touch. "Yes.” She trembled under his hold, blinked then nodded again. "It's just that I want you to be happy, and with what happened today, you might be pushing yourself too fast.” And far. “There's no going back after this." She grimaced. “I know. Ade's history." She'd misunderstood him. He'd meant there was no going back after he'd started to make love to her. Before he could correct the misinterpretation, she whispered, “I want you.” An odd pause. “For old time's sake." Brett hardly heard her. She was his for the rest of the night, and he'd deal with forever later. “I love you,” he murmured, still holding her chin in his hands. His tears mingled with the salt air and her warm breath. "I want you to fuck me like you never have before." His nostalgia-filled regret changed with her request. “You want me to plunge my cock into your cunt?” His mouth curled in a contented smile. "I want your fingers in my hole, too,” she added, somewhat shyly and endearingly. Brett's chest almost burst with tender affection. This woman wanted him in every way a man could please a woman, and he'd almost allowed another man to take her? Shit. He rose and unbuckled his belt. “Before I do you, my lady captive, I want you to suck my dick and make me come in your mouth." She licked her lips in anticipation. “Bring it on, my rampaging lord.” Her lips curled into a lazy smile. “You're not wearing a strip of underwear, are you?" "I came prepared,” was all he could manage as her tongue darted out and caught the tip of his burning cock. He groaned. She flicked her tongue over the mushroom-shaped cap. “Oh Sier. Oh Sier,” he moaned, barely able to control himself. Her tongue continued its urgent but tormenting path down the side of his shaft with tiny, shivering licks, then back up again. He settled his hands on the top of her head against the hairpins projecting from her hair. She gave him a brash look of appraisal and giggled. “My hot vampire wants more?" "Not like this.” Without taking the time to deliberate, he untied her wrists, yanked them together and fastened them in front of her, then pulled her to the ground on top of him. “I want you to ride me because if you keep licking me, I'll come outside of you, and I don't want anything else but to feel you wrapped around me." She rolled her eyes. “I thought I was the captive, ready to be plundered and pillaged by a hunk.” She gave a little sigh. “I see I'm deluding myself into thinking I'm the real captive." From between clenched teeth, Brett muttered, “Get on with it, woman. I order you to ride!" With the crook of her elbow, she brushed stray strands of hair away from her face. “Your wish is my command, my captor."
"You're an absolutely rebellious captive. I'll have to whip your fine ass into submission.” As if that would ever happen. Sierra had always done exactly what she wanted. Except for once, when he'd forced her to sign divorce papers. "Words, lord captor. Words that mean nothing when you're in this state." So aroused he thought he'd go mad, he grumbled good-naturedly, although his patience was quickly wearing thinner than a spider's silk web. “Ride, woman!" She grabbed hold of his erection with her bound hands and began to tug on the muscled flesh without an inch of mercy. “Like this?” she asked oh so sweetly. "Merciless woman! Mark my words. I will not only whip you but I will make you more helpless than the day you were born." A quick, daring smile. “Like I'm not that already when around you.” She lifted herself up slightly, rubbed her moist clit against the tip of his cock and bestowed him with a sexy pout. “I look forward to my punishment." Brett focused his gaze on her breasts as she sat down on him and shifted, fitting his shaft merely halfway. "Woman!” He wrapped his fingers on either side of her waist. “Take more of my cock inside you." Another inch. "Like this?” She flashed a naughty smile with full, white teeth. "No!” His fingers dug into her waist. “Down! All the way!" She relented, slid over his long length until he was fully nestled in her pussy. Every single, luxurious velvet inch. Within seconds, they'd ride the pinnacles of high mountains topped by multiple shimmering rainbows. Some things didn't change— like Sierra's wet pussy encasing his cock in comfortable softness. Her hips rode him urgently as his cock plunged in and out, in and out. Her juices mingled erotically with his, creating a slippery lubricant. This was all he desired. Sierra's love and her passion. And that she'd be his until the end of his life or forever. Whichever came first. [Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Four Brett caressed Sierra's bare ass as she pumped her hips. She'd freed herself of her bonds, thrown the tie to one side and now he edged his fingers towards her enticing hole. At her request, he'd done her a few times like that, inserting one finger, then two past each ring in her anus. The tension in his already wired body began to crescendo like a symphony orchestra playing a loud and fast-paced piece of music. The cymbals began to clang in his head with ear-splitting accuracy and then they went off amid the sound of thunder and flashing lightning. His semen spurted into Sierra's pussy just as her allegro rose to a height where it split into shimmering rolls of molten heat. He pressed his fingers hard against her ass, not caring that come morning, she'd have nail marks on her tender skin. Through blurry eyes, he observed her as she threw her head back and screamed her finale into the air. She collapsed against his chest, her rapid heartbeat racing his own. His shirt was soaked with perspiration and he exhaled several times in an attempt to steady his erratic breathing. Brett raked his fingers through her hair, combing through the silky strands, simply enjoying her presence. Sex had never been like this. Not with any woman. Sierra made him feel whole again. "Are you okay?” he asked, noting the blotch of pink on the cheek nearest him. She nodded, but her pulse continued to gallop. “Brett?” Sierra lifted her face slightly to gaze into his eyes. If only she could tell him that she loved him, that they could be a couple once again. Then he'd feel even more complete. “Yes?" Deliberately, she lifted her hips off his spent and half-flaccid cock. The loss of contact left him oddly bereft and empty. "You know this was a one-time event, don't you?" Her words burned into his sated mind. Then he remembered what she'd said earlier. “For old time's sake." He lifted himself up on one elbow, his heart twisting with pain. “I'll take you home,” he said quietly, but he didn't dare take a quick look at her face. He was afraid of what he'd find there. **** The dawn arrived with a vengeance in a spray of muted purple and vibrant pinks. In his lonely house, Brett stripped out of his clothes and sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, his elbows on his knees and his forehead resting on his palms. He'd taken Sierra home. She hadn't spoken one more word to him on the drive. She'd played with him, for old time's sake, but he had to accept the fact there would never again be anything between them. Just sex. She deserved more than he could give her. Much more. Like a stable family life. Children. A marriage that wasn't buried in furtive secrecy where they could go out together during daylight hours and let all her friends and family know they were a couple. The obstacles seemed to mount as he considered them one by one. He'd lived four hundred years, long enough to know that women wanted one-hundred-percent commitment. He'd given the best he could. Until Sierra found out what he was. Her horror and the loathing in her eyes had pained him to his very core. They'd fought bitterly and the next day, he'd filed for divorce. "My beautiful Sierra,” he moaned. “What have I done?” He'd made love to her, played their game as if nothing had come between them to separate them, then she'd told him this had been a one-time event. A mistake, in other words. He couldn't face the rest of his life without her. How would he survive the solitary nights in a bed made for two? There wasn't another woman in the whole universe quite like Sierra. Sure, he'd had sex with quite a few women in the last four hundred years, but there was a difference between sex and making love. His feet seemed to be made of stone on the tan plush carpet under his feet. Vampires were cursed to live for an eternity, weaving in and out of the short lives they merely touched with their dark presence. People came and went. The relentless ages passed by
and a vampire could honestly say he'd seen history made hundreds of years earlier. However, history was dead and lifeless, a sort of fiction without living embodiment. So unlike a soft, warm body nestled against his, like the real, breathing, filled-with-life woman he'd had but carelessly lost. As he stared at the carpet and the hunter green triangles interwoven with rigid squares, a plan formed in his beleaguered mind. If Sierra thought she'd never see him again, she was quite mistaken. Brett Wolfe didn't easily take no for an answer. Never had, never would. [Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Five Two evenings later, he drove by Sierra's apartment, calculating how best to kidnap her. Brett had considered a number of options, from chloroform, to slipping a sleeping pill into her wine glass to throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her off to the wild blue yonder. He grinned in the dark. Okay. To his house. He'd take her there and ravish her over and over again until she finally saw sense and agreed to marry him again. First, he'd utilise the commonsense approach. Ring her doorbell and ask her out to dinner. If that didn't work, then things could get iffy, but it wasn't like he didn't have Backup Plan A in place. And Backup Plan B. And Backup Plan C, too. None would work worth a damn if Sierra was with another man. Brett picked up his cell phone and dialled her number. If the answering machine picked up, all plans were on hold. If she answered, she was his. On the other end, the phone rang once. Twice. A third time and on the fourth ring, Sierra picked up. “Hello?" "I'm coming over in five minutes to kidnap and ravish you,” he blurted. So much for calculated plans. A slight pause but she didn't hang up. Which was a good sign. “Who is this?" Brett made a heavy bet with himself that she knew perfectly well who it was. “Wanna come play?” he asked, already in trouble. The sound of her evocative voice was enough to give him a hard-on and press images of erotic scenes on his starving mind. Her long legs entangled with his. Her hair falling over her shoulders and barely covering one rosy nipple. His lips sucking, tugging on that nipple. Sierra crying out as an orgasm gripped her. Lying spent on silk sheets, her head nestled against his shoulder. The scent of musky sex lingering on his tongue and in the air. Man, he was in a bad way. "What will you do if I don't?” Sierra's curiosity had come out to play too. "I'll break down the door with my hands and bleed all over your clean floor.” So much for any backup plans. They'd all gone up in smoke. "How many backup plans did you have in place?” A tinkle of laughter came through the phone line. "You caught me there. I lost count,” he said sheepishly, keeping an eye on the second floor apartment window. The lace curtains rippled. She was observing him. Or trying to in the darkness. "You're too funny. What else do you have up your sleeve?" "I want to make love to you.” The clean, honest truth. Couldn't go wrong with that. "I'm wondering if I should hang up on you, but I don't think you're going to go away that easy. Right?" The curtains moved aside. Her bedroom was lit by the overhead light and created a shadow of her at the window. A shapely shadow as she turned in profile. "No, not that easy." She had turned on purpose. She wasn't wearing a thing. He swallowed hard. Her nipples jutted out from round globes and she tossed her hair back over her shoulders coquettishly. Wild, wild woman. "That's good, because I've been waiting for you." The blood in his veins seemed to pump harder at her husky, come-and-get me invitation. He climbed out of the car, unable to speak, the cell phone to his ear and only able to stare at her nudity in shadow.
He finally found his voice. “You mean I don't have to bust down the door?" He saw her shake her head as she said, “No. I don't think the landlord would be too happy about that. I'll buzz you in." After the short beep opened the main door, Brett made short work of the three flights of stairs. His breathing even, but his heart racing at the erotic images of Sierra flooding his mind's eyes, he stood at the door. She'd already cracked it open a few inches. He pushed it open, but she wasn't in the living room or small kitchen. “You're going to make it hard for me to find you?” he queried, enjoying the chase, even if it wouldn't be much of one. He stuck his head in the bathroom door even though the room was dark. Nope, no Sierra. He found her in the bedroom, wrapped like a Christmas present in white satin. Around her slender throat, she wore the pearls he'd given her for their first anniversary. She'd rolled over on one hip, one long leg out over the sheet which was tucked up over the swell of her breasts. "Wowza, lady,” was all he could say. "What was this about kidnapping and ravishing me? Or are you too tongue-tied to tell me?” With her forefinger, she traced an invisible line across the top of her left breast. He stood still in helpless admiration. “Not tongue-tied. You can have anything you want." She laughed with delight. “I want you to strip for me. With attitude." Did he dare hope she'd realise he'd made a gigantic mistake and wanted her to marry him again? “I might need some help though." She nodded and patted the bed beside her. “Come closer." His knees wobbled. No matter how many times he'd made love to her, it was always like the very first time with her, fresh, exciting, and invigorating. He took two strides across the room. “Aren't you supposed to be my captive, instead of me being yours?" Her gaze up at him was filled with lust. She caught her glossy peach-coloured lower lip between her teeth and waved an imperious hand. “Off." His chest constricted with possessiveness. How could he have thought to let her marry another man? He stripped off his Armani jacket and threw it over the arm of a nearby chair. “I was jealous, you know." Silently, she drummed her fingers on the sheets. “Of?" "You marrying another man.” The words tumbled out. The tie followed the jacket. "Oh that.” A ghost of a smile hovered at the corners of her mouth. “No worries." "Are you over him?" "Should I be?" "I don't know. Should you?” Playing with words instead of her naked body. She shrugged. “It was a divorce in the making." Brett harrumphed, reminded again about his great error in judgment. "This isn't about him, Brett. It's about us."
"Is this a one-time event too?” The words came out much more bitter than he'd intended and gained him an inquisitive look. "If you want it to be.” She traced a sexy polished fingernail along her upper lip. “But it seems to me you came knocking on my door." That took the responsibility and blame away from her shoulders and placed them on his. He could handle that. Outwardly, he didn't acknowledge her statement. "Take the rest off,” Sierra told him. "You're getting some amusement out of this?” He unbuckled the belt and shimmied out of his pants, which fell around his ankles with a soft shush. His cock immediately bobbed upwards. "My poor baby,” she whispered, her pupils narrowing. “You always take my breath away when I see you naked." He laughed self-derisively. “May I approach my lady captive's bed?" "Will you bite my neck?" He shook his head. “Never. I wouldn't will this life on my worst enemy." It was interesting she'd raised the question of creating another vampire. Of her. She'd never cared for bite marks. Not that he'd have bitten her. She knew he came from a solitary background, didn't have many friends. They'd agreed when they first got married that he'd be careful not to bite her. He'd told her he couldn't stand it if she was as lonely as he was through eternity. And she could be if vampire hunters caught up with him, then ended his life. "Not even if we're together?" "Sier, don't talk like this. We agreed when we got married—" She cut him off. “We're not married anymore, so the old rules don't apply." His dick throbbed painfully. He continued as if he hadn't heard, but her words cut at his heart like sharp swords. “—that I wouldn't create another monster.” The hell with what she wanted. He closed the gap between them, got onto the bed and trapped her hips under her thighs. "Be happy with who you are, Sier. There's not another woman like you in the whole universe. I love you for that. And a whole lot more." She twisted her hips under him as if she'd slide out. He caught her wrists, encircled them in one hand and thrust them over her head. The sheet stayed between them. “Listen. It's not going to happen. Not now, not ever." "Make love to me,” she whispered. She didn't meet his frank gaze. Before he had a chance to wonder why, he tore the sheet from between them. They were both nude, flesh to flesh, yearning to yearning. Driven by a need to satisfy himself and with a vengeance that pained him, he spread her legs apart and plunged deep into her sheath. "No,” she exclaimed in a tormented whisper. “I don't want you this way." Was she playing their game or being honest with him? When had been the last time she'd told him the hardcore truth? He couldn't remember. Didn't try to recall. “Isn't it too late for that?” he growled, anger and the old hurt rising from deep within. “You tempt me into seducing you, and then you tell me you don't want me?" Unmoving, his cock rested in her pussy as he examined her face, her cheeks blotched with rose highlights. He lowered his lips to
her mouth and gave her a bruising kiss filled with passion, lust and fury. Unwittingly, he freed her wrists. Her arms curled around his neck, drawing his upper body closer to hers. The kiss did something to his emotions. Softened them, took the edge off the desperation. He broke the kiss, noting Sierra hadn't struggled except at the very beginning. Now she laid under him, compliant, her lips kiss-swollen and her eyes questioning. "I didn't want to do that,” he muttered in self-loathing for his caveman behaviour. He'd never wanted to hurt her. Not ever. Instead of bringing her closer, he was driving her away. “I didn't mean to do that,” he told her, pulling his still hard cock from her sheath. She stopped him with a sharp, “No!" He froze with indecision. She couldn't still desire him after his bullish conduct. "Can you finish making love to me?” she asked, her voice low, seductive. “I need you." Such a simple statement that wrung his heart and messed with his mind. He didn't dare ask if she loved him, if she'd marry him again. “I need you too,” he murmured, gently driving into her welcoming cunt. Her thighs were supple as she opened them wider to better accommodate his large size. He canted his head to one side and took one nipple in his questing mouth and toyed with the other, stretching it into a high peak. Underneath him, she moaned and began pumping her hips in time with his thrusting. Beads of perspiration dotted her forehead, mirroring his own sexual intensity. Her back arched. She took his shaft deeper to that spot of heaven he never wanted to leave. It took every bit of his willpower to prevent himself from surging to a toppling crest as she bit back a cry of sheer, undiluted ecstasy. One after the other, shudders rippled through her body and sent him over the intoxicating side of the highest mountain in the universe. He arched his neck, shut his eyes tight and groaned as he spurted into her channel. Every muscle in his heated body melted away, leaving him shaky and breathless. Sierra said nothing as he pulled his shaft from her and rolled over on his back, the back of his hand clasped against his clammy forehead. He was grateful when she faced him, scooted closer and sank her head against his chest. With gentle fingers, she toyed with the fine hairs on his chest. “Brett?" He tried to take a deep breath but everything was stuck in his lungs still he managed, “Yeah?” He kept his eyes closed, replaying over and over the sensual images of her lush body covered with flimsy sheets. "That was remarkable." "Yeah.” He wondered if his heartbeat and rapid breathing would ever return to normal. "About that whipping?" His eyes flashed open. “Woman! I'm near death after what you do to me and now you want a whipping?" She nodded, her hair tumbled around her shoulders in a ravishingly artless way. She'd lost one diamond earring but the other dangled with her head's movement. "Let me gain my bearings first.” And to think, he mused, but his dick was responding to her idea by getting hard. Again. **** He must have dozed off. When he blinked his eyes open, Sierra wasn't beside him on the bed as she usually was after lovemaking. Naked, still unsteady on his feet, he searched her apartment. She was nowhere. And he noted with a touch of dismayed sadness as he searched the closet for clues to where she'd run that her suitcase was gone.
Brett sank onto a chair in the dining room and wept unashamedly. What had gone wrong? Why had Sierra left? He recalled what she'd said about a whipping. Why would she mention such a thing if she was planning to leave? Funny, but he'd been looking forward to tanning her lovely ass while she begged for more. Now she was gone. If he found her, what alternative did he have but to consign her to eternity so she would stay with him? How could he face his whole life, a bleak forever life, without her at his side? In his gut, he knew it was wrong. He could never compel Sierra to be what he was. A man without value in the human race he lived amongst, a man without a permanent home and a man without Sierra's love. Life, he suspected, would become complicated if she was what he was. There were always those who, in their petty mindedness, misjudged him and for no reason that he knew of retaliated against him by trying to kill him. Which was next to impossible. There was only one way. This life, if Brett could call it that, wasn't for his beloved Sierra. He'd rather end his own than inflict the torment and self-loathing on her. Because that's what her life would come to. Then she'd hate him. He was sure of that. The apartment was empty without her. The humidity had ramped up without the air conditioner running. He didn't bother to turn it on. Drying his eyes and his face with the back of his hand, he got to his feet, determined to return to his house and erase the night's memories of making love to a woman he would never stop loving no matter how long he lived. He dressed without paying much attention to what he was doing. He buttoned his shirt, then realising the buttons didn't match the buttonholes, had to start all over again. Some of the dresser drawers were left open, probably in Sierra's haste to get away from him and in an attempt not to wake him. Out of curiosity, Brett strolled over and pulled the uppermost one open. A framed photograph lay on the top of a pile of panties and bras. He stared at the photo of a beaming man in black and his joy-filled bride. Sierra and himself. His blood drummed in his ears. Why had she hung onto the picture when she'd clearly intended to marry another man? Something didn't sit right. If a woman loved a man, wouldn't she rid herself of any reminders of other, failed relationships? He remembered her adamancy about not marrying him in a church but being married by a justice of the peace in a civil ceremony. Yet, this time with Adrian, she'd opted for a church wedding. Brett shook himself, trying to clear his muddled thoughts. Something was definitely not right. He had to find Sierra and ask her some questions. And, for his peace of mind, he hoped to hell she answered them. [Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Six After several days, countless phone calls to hotels all over the country, and despairing over whether he would find her, Brett heard news of her. Or rather, she left a message on his answering machine. All Sierra said, in a low, mysterious tone, was, “Come and get me. You know where I am." Brett ground his teeth in frustration, replaying the message several times to see if he could detect any background noise but hearing nothing but traffic whizzing by and the occasional blaring horn. He had to know the answer. Outside the bank of living room windows, night had fallen. The pregnant moon from nights before had slimmed to a dainty crescent hovering above a milieu of silvery clouds. Why was Sierra always making a move during the dark night hours? The answer to where she waited came as he sipped a cold cup of coffee. He didn't bother to throw on any additional clothes other than a pair of navy blue shorts and a white t-shirt. He was at the Carnival Pier within ten minutes. He was already calling out, “Sierra! Sierra!” as he jumped out of the car. “Where are you?” He ran through the sun-warmed sand to the carnival, continuing to shout her name. Time and experience had shown him that nothing was ever as it seemed. Even though he hurried, he maintained a cautious demeanour, looking for anything that seemed somewhat out of place. Outside of the waves crashing against the beach, he heard nothing. The crescent moon kept him company, silently watching over him with its faint glow. The carousel with its battered horses came to mind first. He rushed there, stepping carefully around broken glass and yellowed sheets of newspaper from days gone by. He found Sierra, her wrists bound to a pillar that had once supported one of the prancing horses. Her wary gaze tore at his heart. "I don't want to play this stupid bondage game anymore, Sier!” he shouted, rushing up to her, desperate to untie her. She was so beautiful. Her long hair hung down her back in soft tresses. She was absolutely naked except for a pair of white six inch high heels with silk ties that wound their way around her ankles. “Oh, don't be such a prude,” she admonished him. “Why don't you consider it a reward for all the searching you've done for me?” She turned her head to look behind the pillar. “I even brought some toys for you to play with. If you want." The surprised anger drained away, replaced by intense curiosity. And his dick was playing with him, too. “What kind of toys?” He swallowed hard, unable to believe that once again Sierra was in control with her captive routine. "A bottle of champagne. Nipple clamps. A dildo. That kind of thing.” She tugged on her bound wrists. “If you let me go, I'll show you." Brett shook his head in amazement. “You don't give up, do you?" Her eyebrows knit together in a frown. “What do you mean?" Even though his cock was hard and thick with longing, he blew up. “Who are you playing to, Sierra?” he shouted. His words echoed into the thin night air. “Is it for me, yourself or are you practicing for the next poor fool you meet?” That had to be it. He was so besotted with her that he hadn't seen she was using him for her own perverted ends and didn't give a rat's ass about him. She looked away and when she turned her gaze on him, her eyes were filled with tears. Her voice trembled when she spoke. “I thought you liked playing with me.” She moistened her lips with a flick of her tongue. “I thought you loved me." He was madder than a disturbed hornet's nest. He tried to ignore the fierce arousal relentlessly pounding at him—an arousal that could so easily make mush out of him and force him to give in to her. “Don't you see what you're doing? You're not playing with me! You're playing with some kind of mystery man, someone you made up in your head. Someone who can satisfy you better
than I can, apparently!” He had to walk away before he lost his sanity or did something to her he might regret, then had to forever live with the guilt. And forever was a very long time. To his surprise, tears rolled down her face. Her lips trembled and her whole body quivered. “This was never about me, Brett Wolfe. It was for you. Always for you.” She easily freed her hands, got to her feet in one graceful move of long limbs and satin skin and strode towards him, the tears glistening on her cheeks in the dim light. She was so erotic, so sexy in those high heels that had most likely been designed to drive a man wild with lust. She poked a finger at his chest, keeping time with each unhurried word. “Everything I did during our marriage, I did for you. Every minute I spend with you is for you. Do you know why?” She kept punctuating each word with a sharp finger. “Because you're a stubborn jackass. Because you don't see a good thing when you've got it. Because you've got yourself so wrapped up in Brett Wolfe, you can't see anything but yourself. Because I love you, you idiot!" He stood his ground although her finger hurt the middle of his chest where she kept hitting him. He let her vent, while she turned his world upside down in the process. “What did you say?” he asked stupidly. Her eyes flashed fire. “Which part? The part about—" With ill grace, he interrupted. “The last part. The part about how you love me." She did her own thing, as always. “This whole charade about marrying Ade was just that. A charade. To make you jealous. To make you see the light!” Her annoying finger fell to her side. "Forget that. Although I should have known. What did you say about loving me?” He held his breath, trying to assimilate everything she'd told him. "I'm not getting through to you, am I?" "No, I don't think so,” he admitted, hoping he wasn't making too much of an ass of himself. First, accusing her of not being her real self when what was he doing in that respect? And second, hinting he didn't like playing with her sexually. How far was that from the truth? Sierra's finger lifted up again, intent on prodding him with a vengeance again. He seized her and squeezed lightly even as she tried to twist away. “Are you saying you love me the way I am?” he demanded. "Why? So you could throw my love away like an old dishrag just like so many other men have?” Her chin quivered, and the tears began to shimmer down her cheeks again. Brett would have whooped and hollered, but he knew in her state of mind, she'd see him as conceited. But he didn't blame her. He watched as she seemed to shrink and draw into herself. Tenderly, he wiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb. “I'm sorry,” he said simply. “I thought you'd be happier without me. With someone else who could give you everything you wanted." "And what if all I wanted was you?” She sniffled. “Here I am naked in the middle of a carnival, begging you to love me." Using his wet thumb, he tipped her face up. “You never had to beg, Sierra. Never. I love you more than life itself." Her eyes, once again twinkling with mischievousness, met his. “You'd say that, wouldn't you?" Brett chuckled. “Because I'm vampire?" "Because you're a conceited fool." "I ‘fess up. I'm that too.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I'm not going to ask for your permission,” he said. “I'm going to throw
you in my car and take you home to have my way with you." "What about what I brought?” She indicated the toys on the ground with a nod in their direction. "Oh,” he humoured her, “I think we can make use of them. Especially the dildo." To his satisfaction, her eyes widened with pleasure. "First, I have to tie you up, say dirty words to get your juices flowing—" She shook her head. Her hair whistled softly around her. “I don't think you have to do that.” She took hold of his right hand and nestled it between her warm thighs. “Why not cop a feel?" He burst out laughing but spread her thighs wider apart. She was so wet, so ready for him. Her clit was hard. He sank to his knees. “Let me worship you before I kidnap you." He spread her legs wider yet, spread her moist folds and licked her nub. She tasted of honey and sexy female. She writhed and moaned as he laved and savoured her, slipping his tongue deep inside her pussy. She lowered herself over his face several inches. The muscles in her inner thighs tightened like bowstrings. He heard her cry out his name once before silence fell. He'd satisfied her for a minute or two, he reflected, but he was inclined to mete out some punishment for his ex-wife. Some fun, sensual punishment. **** Brett tied up her wrists with a leather strap, settled her in the back seat of his car, threw a light wool blanket over her nudity, retrieved the toys she'd bought and drove off like a madman in search of lunatics. When he reached his house, he pulled Sierra out of the car, blanket and all, carried her into the house and up the stairs into his bedroom, determined to never let her go again. "What are going to do to me?” she asked meekly. "I make the rules,” he said with a curtness he hadn't intended. "Oh, I see.” Sierra blushed as he laid her on the bed, quickly untied her wrists and then bound them to the headboard. Her wrists hung well above her head, several inches apart. "There is no getting away from me this time,” he managed in a choked voice. He threw off the blanket. She was so beautiful, with smooth pink skin. A tiny smile of pleasure hovered on her lips. "Are you going to use the toys I got?” she asked as he slipped off the bed and pulled off his shorts and t-shirt. "I have my very own toys to play with,” he growled into her ear. Her eyes narrowed speculatively. “What kind?” Her voice was breathy. Erotic. He rose and stood close to the bed. “Let me see. I have my very own dildo.” She giggled, but her eyes lit up with appreciation. “I have my own nipple clamps.” He leaned over and lightly pinched both nipples at once. “And let me see. I have any kind of champagne my captive would care for." He knew she didn't know a great deal about champagne. “Later, I'll pour a delicate white over your breasts, onto your stomach and into your pubic curls so the bubbly flows down to your pussy.” His cock pulsed harder at the sensual thought. She wet her lips. “Why not now?" He shrugged. “You shouldn't be asking any questions. Captives of vampires usually don't."
She persisted. “Why not now?" "Because I'm really hard up." She laughed with delight again. “That bad, huh?" "Very.” He straddled her, enjoying the sensation of control, enjoying his rough skin against her petal soft skin. Lowering his head, he sucked her nipples, each in turn while he played his right hand between her legs and into the soft spot that waited for him. He'd hardly touched her clit and slid three fingers into her vagina when her hips bucked. She twisted her neck from side to side and moaned. "Take your fingers out now. Put your cock in my pussy,” she demanded breathlessly. "I'm the boss." "Oh, if you say so.” Her lips formed a pout. Brett removed his fingers and settled the tip of his cock at the entrance of her pussy. “Do you want me?" She nodded. "Tell me what I want to hear." She sucked in a breath and batted her eyelids. “Oh, I don't know—" He entered her roughly, pressed against her G-spot until she cried out again and again. “Now tell me." She gazed straight into his eyes. “I love you?" "Again.” He thrust in and out now, ruthless, sure of her reaction. "I love you." "Again." "Brett—" "Again, Sierra. I never want you to think I'm going to desert you like all those other men did." "I love you." "Good.” Her breasts, soft globes under the dim light, shook with each plunge into her, withdrawing and repeating until she begged him to stop. "No. I'm the boss. Can you handle that, Sier?" "Can you handle me loving you for all eternity?" He stopped his mad race to a finish line that would never come. Not as long as he had her in his life. “What do you mean?” Fear gripped his heart. “What did you do?" A tense hush fell over the bedroom. Brett heard the crickets chirping outside. And his heart drummed far too loud. “How can you love me for all eternity?” he demanded.
"You always assumed I was unlike you." Her pulse raced under his body. He couldn't believe his ears. “You're ... like me?" Time stood still. The crescent moon hung over the edge of the mountain ready to slip away as the dawn ushered in a new day. She nodded. “Not until a few days ago. I—” She seemed reluctant to tell him. Took a deep breath and began again. “I can't live without you. The other night I knew I had to do something. I didn't want to lose you." Relief, coloured with apprehension, flooded him. “This isn't one of your games, is it?” he questioned. She shook her head. “Not this time. You didn't know, but one day after we were married, your friend, Jimmy, dropped by while you were out. He told me about how he'd fallen in love with a mortal woman, and when he lost her, forever, he determined he wouldn't let it happen to others who wanted to be like us. I refused.” She hesitated. “At the time. But he'd left his number of a friend who could reach him, if needed. I called the friend. I asked to be made like this." Brett breathed in deep, although his mind couldn't quite grasp what Sierra had so unwillingly told him. Furious with himself, and with her for hiding who she was, he continued his mad thrusting, until his anger shattered, drawn taut by his frenzied lovemaking. He howled into the night as his orgasm tore through him. He had never wanted Sierra to be what he was, but now that the deed was irrevocably done, he had no choice but to accept her action. And love her. He rolled over on his back and stared at the ceiling. “Why didn't you tell me?" She shrugged, snapped her hands free of the straps. “I had a choice to make. Do I spend this life without you or do I become what you are? I decided to be much like you." He drew her to him. She straddled his hips. “Do you know what kind of recriminations I went through because I wanted to give you only the best and I didn't know how to do that if you were human?" "If I lived a shorter period of time than you?" "That too.” Why hadn't he fit the pieces of Sierra together before this? "Can we move on with our lives now?" "Towards eternity?" Sierra kissed his lips and there was no need to say more. Eternity was a long time but with the woman who would soon be his wife again, he had no doubt that eternity wouldn't be long enough for all the love they had for each other. [Back to Table of Contents]
About the Author Aurora Rose Lynn, a bestselling erotica author, lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and conure. She enjoys writing romance with a sensual twist but first and foremost, her stories must be about love. When she isn't writing romance, she writes young adult and fantasy stories under a pen name. Email:
[email protected] Aurora loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at www.total-ebound.com. Also by Aurora Rose Lynn Blue Dragon Challenge Lust or Go Bust [Back to Table of Contents]
Total-E-Bound Publishing **** **** www.total-e-bound.com Take a look at our exciting range of literagasmic™ erotic romance titles and discover pure quality at Total-E-Bound.
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