Chapter 6

The ball was a grand affair, full of lavish and elaborate vampires of all types. Some were modern or Goth, and others were stylishly dressed in period costumes. Everywhere I looked, there was white flesh and sharp fangs though they all seemed to be fake. I retreated to a restroom to clean up and do a better job of fixing my makeup. I also put in my fangs.

I left the restroom and, as I was walking by the coat check room, I felt a strange tingle on the back of my neck. Suddenly, an arm reached out and pulled me in.

I figured it was Christien again, but it wasn’t. A masked man stood only inches away. His face was almost completely hidden. All I could see were his full, sensual lips curving into a seductive smile. I noticed the cross dangling from his neck. It was my cross, the one the stranger took from me in the alley. Fear and fire coursed through my body. My knees became weak. He grabbed me before I hit the ground. His scent intoxicated me. I felt like I was floating.

“You look so enchanting tonight, LizBeth, like a vampire bride. And you smell so wonderful—a mix of cinnamon and passion. You make me want you so.”

I was powerless to do anything as he slid his hand under my dress. It was just like my dream. Cool fingers slipped inside my moist, hot folds of flesh as those full lips kissed my neck. I felt the sharp canines tear into my flesh as I experienced a powerful orgasm that rocked my whole body. Then, there was darkness.

***

I woke up to Christien shaking me gently. I was confused at first, and I didn’t know where I was. As I became coherent, I touched my throat, feeling for the bite marks. There was nothing there except a slight tingling.

“What happened? I’ve been looking everywhere for you. How did you end up here?” Christien asked looking very concerned.

“I don’t know,” I lied. He would never believe me if I told him the truth. Who would? We were at a Halloween ball full of fake vampires, and I was supposed to make someone believe I had been seduced and bitten by a real vampire, though there were no marks to prove it.

“Are you alright? Do you want me to take you back to your hotel?”

“No, no. I’m fine. Maybe it was those hurricanes I drank before I ran into you earlier. They must have finally caught up to me.” I laughed. “I guess I just can’t handle my alcohol.”

How was it possible that I could erase years of being a strong, independent woman with just a few sentences spoken to this man?

He helped me to my feet. At first, I was a little shaky but quickly recovered. I had to find Quillon. I wondered if he was still out there, lurking in the shadows, taunting and teasing me. Christien and I went into the main ballroom, and he grabbed me something cold to drink—without alcohol. He also grabbed a plate of finger foods to snack on.

“Here. This will make you feel better. You probably haven’t eaten much today; that’s why those drinks hit you so hard.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it,” I lied again. I already felt like a fool. I didn’t want to say anything else. What kind of spook-hunter was I when I let them get the drop on me over and over again in one night? Good thing he didn’t want to kill me, or I’d be dead. If it had not been Quillon, I would be in serious trouble.

I felt better surprisingly quickly, and Christien led me to the dance floor. Our bodies moved to the dark rhythm of the music while I scanned the room for Quillon. We danced and partied until the early morning hours when they started kicking everyone out. I never caught another glimpse of Quillon that night. We went back to Christien’s hotel because it was closer. We collapsed into bed and fell right asleep.

***

Smothered with hot passionate kisses, I could feel his weight on top of me. Something hard pulsed against my inner thigh. It was his arousal. His cock felt like cold, chiseled marble as it slid inside my fiery velvet folds. I lustily lifted my hips to take more of him in. I wrapped my legs around his muscular back and pulled him closer to me. I caressed his cold, hard flesh. He felt like stone encased in satin. His body was so hard, yet his skin was smooth and soft. I could feel the muscles rippling on his arms as I traced a line across them with my fingers.

“Do you want me, ma chérie?” he asked.

“Yes, more than anything.”

“Do you need me as much as I need you?”

“With every breath,” I answered.

“You are my passion, my love, my everything. Mon coeur est `a vous,” he whispered in my ear.

I pulsated around him, stretching and contracting to accommodate his size. He filled me, torturing me with tantalizing sensations with each stroke. His mouth closed over my nipple, and he gently bit down, drawing just a little blood, which he hungrily sucked from my breast. The blood aroused his passion to new levels, and he fucked me harder. He pounded into me as his mouth found my throat; his ivory fangs plunged into a vein. Pleasure surpassed pain. I felt liquid fire flow through me. I arched against him as a climax shuddered through my body.

As I was drifting into darkness I heard him say, “Find me tonight. It is time.”