A Vampire for Christmas(38)
He molded his chest to her back, rested his hands beside hers, then began to move inside her. The friction of each stroke ignited all his nerve endings to the point where he didn’t think he could hold out much longer. His fangs were already fully extended.
You’re so beautiful, Char,” he whispered into her hair. “And I love you so incredibly much.”
And I love you, too.”
With his tongue, he easily located the pounding pulse of her vein. In one swift movement, his fangs clamped down and plunged into her flesh. She stiffened momentarily, let out a soft hiss. And as he swallowed that first sip of sweetness and felt her muscles spasm around him, he came hard, releasing his seed in an explosion of white-hot pleasure.
Honestly, Char,” he said as they lay in each other’s arms a few minutes later. “I don’t know what I did to deserve a woman like you.”
All his life, he’d tried to live up to his birthright, holding duty and honor above all else. But in the end, although those things were still important to him, it was the love of this woman that had truly completed him, making it possible for him to fulfill his destiny. Oddly enough, were his father still alive today, Trace was pretty certain he’d have been proud of him and the choices he had made.
Simple,” she said. “You were true to yourself and followed your heart, which made you the man of my dreams.”
MONSTERS DON’T DO CHRISTMAS
CHAPTER ONE
THE WEREWOLF’S FIST packed a remarkable wallop. Daniel Harrison had developed some kind of funky, supernatural strength since he’d transformed into a vampire a year ago, but he’d quickly learned that strength was nothing when matched against a werewolf.
Why did these guys hate him so much?
There were two of them, and the biggest, with no discernible neck, served a pummel of blows to Daniel’s gut. He wasn’t in position to latch on to either with his fangs, and the idea of clamping down on their nasty flesh didn’t suit his preference for a clean bite.
A Christmas storm battered New York City. Snowflakes stung them with an icy scrape and at times hindered Daniel from seeing the oncoming punches.
He knew why the dogs had been following him on his nightly hunt for sustenance. They sought an unaligned vampire who had no ties to the local tribes to bring home to the pack and turn into a chew toy. Wolves did nasty things with vampires, like lock them up, force them to endure UV light torture, then after the vamps were starving and raging for blood, the wolves pitted them against one another in a battle to the death. This vampire wasn’t down for the count yet.
With renewed vigor, Daniel swung and landed a forceful punch in a werewolf’s kidney. The bruiser grunted and toppled backward, landing in his cohort’s arms. Bouncing on his feet like a boxer, Daniel had to smile at the swift move.
Hey!”
At sound of the female voice, all three—vampire and werewolves—twisted to spy a woman tromping down the snow-packed alleyway with a grocery bag in hand. Furry boots rose to her knees and were tied with laces capped in thick fur balls that bounced with each step. A fur-rimmed hood covered her head and her face was bundled against the winter storm with a scarf that protected her mouth and nose. Bright green eyes sought each of them with chastising force.
You think you made your point?” she said to one of the werewolves, who punched a fist into his palm. “I don’t want trouble. But you do know the police station is around the corner.”
Both wolves exchanged nervous glances. One shook his head and sneered at Daniel.
Daniel could feel the pansy accusation from the werewolves waver through the air at him and strike him smartly in the testicles. Defended by a woman? Not cool. He smacked a fist in his palm.
We’re out of here,” the wolf with the steel fist announced, and they shoved roughly past the woman and tromped off.
Nice. Like he needed one more thing to make the wolves laugh at him, the unaligned vampire who was this close to cashing in all his chips, be it as a werewolf’s bitch or by the stake.
Had ’em right where I wanted them,” Daniel said, his anger rising at the humiliation of having a woman defend him. “And I didn’t need you to interfere.”
Uh-huh.” She stepped through the flurry of snowflakes, her path obviously aimed toward the iron stairway hugging the brownstone. “You were eating that brick wall, buddy.”
Furious at her catty comment, he grasped her by the furry coat lapels and swung her around, slamming her against the wall. The bag of groceries crushed against her stomach. The werewolves had caught him tonight before he’d satisfied his hunger, and she looked warm, mortal and appetizing.