Blood Ties Bundle: Blood Ties Book One: The Turning / Blood Ties Book Two: Possession / Blood Ties Book Three: Ashes to Ashes / Blood Ties Book Four: All Souls' Night. Jennifer Armintrout
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at his small writing desk beside the window, head bent in concentration. His hair was tied back and he wore his black silk robe. He was so absorbed in his task that I had to clear my throat to get him to look at me.
He didn’t lift his face, but I heard the smile in his voice. “I’ll be with you in a moment, Carrie. Please, make yourself comfortable.”
“You make it sound like we’re about to close on a house.” Was that my voice, tight and nervous as it scraped from my throat?
“In a way, we are closing a type of deal. Doesn’t this officially buy your little friend’s life?” Unadulterated excitement radiated through the blood tie. There was no tenderness from him, only dark, perverse lust. The intensity of it should have frightened me, but his desire overrode my fear and left me trembling in its wake.
I watched him fold the sheet of paper and noticed his hands shook. He was struggling for self-control, I realized. In a purely antagonistic gesture, I conjured a vivid picture of us in my mind, of myself naked, on my hands and knees as he pushed into me from behind, head thrown back in pleasure.
He hissed as the image materialized in his brain, and his back straightened. I heard him take a few deep breaths before he stood. “You have a very creative imagination, Carrie.”
With the deadly smile of an advancing predator, he moved toward me. His robe, open to the waist as usual, slithered against him like living skin in the candlelight. “Don’t you think this would have been more interesting?”
Blackness, then a crystal-clear vision invaded my mind. A girl, probably no more than sixteen, lay in the center of the huge bed. My hands pinned her arms to the bed and she screamed in terror as I sank my fangs into her neck. Cyrus captured her wildly struggling legs and parted them, thrusting into her as the spark of life drained from her eyes.
I shook my head to be rid of the vision, only to see anger contort his handsome face.
“Don’t ever forget whom you’re dealing with,” he warned, pulling me against him so I could feel his erection through the thin silk of his robe. “I am capable of things you couldn’t begin to comprehend.”
Just as suddenly as his sinister mood appeared, it faded. Kissing me on the cheek, he stepped back to look me over. He frowned as he took in my jeans and T-shirt. “I thought you’d wear something more…appropriate. Didn’t I buy you anything suitable for this occasion?”
He had. In the armoire were several revealing outfits, including a Catholic school girl costume that I’d stuffed far back in the drawer in disgust.
I shrugged. “I assumed I wouldn’t be wearing much for long.”
His mouth quirked at my blunt words. “Very perceptive of you.”
He motioned to the mantel above the fireplace. Just as in the outer room, no fire burned. “Would you like anything to drink?”
I eyed the green liquid in the crystal carafe and shook my head. The blood tie was intoxicating enough. I needed a clear head tonight. “No. I’d rather just—”
“Get it over with?” he finished for me, and I dared not reply.
He trailed a fingernail down my neck and followed it with his tongue. The sensation sent stabs of desire racing south, and I felt myself becoming wet. No living man had ever pulled such a response from me. I couldn’t hold back my moan.
His tongue teased the lobe of my ear, his breath stimulating the moistened flesh as he whispered, “You’re such a puzzling woman. This afternoon you were affectionate and caring. Now you hold back.”
He drew away and cupped the back of my head with his hand, forcing me to look him in the eyes. His missing eye was still hidden by the patch, but the one that remained stared hard into mine. “What am I to you, Carrie?”
Though his touch was gentle, I felt his true intent. He wanted to break me, to make me as shameless with lust for him as Dahlia and the other simpering pets in his harem.
And from what I’d experienced so far, he was very good at what he did. I swallowed. “You’re my sire.”
“Is that all I am?” There was a note of sadness in his tone, but I didn’t answer. He hadn’t been asking me.
He reached beneath my shirt and dragged his nails across my stomach. My breath hitched. Then he turned away. “Undress and come to bed.”
Wrapping my arms around my stomach, I could still feel his cold hands there.
Cyrus moved to the bed, not once looking at me. He shrugged off the robe, revealing a body so white and firm it could have been chiseled from marble.
My mouth went dry at the thought of him above me, filling me. I wanted to blame this new wave of longing on the blood tie, but I couldn’t. I wanted him.
Maybe that was his first victory. But looking at Cyrus, the ripple of his muscles moving beneath tight skin, I wondered why I’d wanted to fight at all. There wasn’t much left for me outside these walls. I couldn’t go back to the hospital. I had no home, no friends, no family. Why should I run from the one person who truly wanted me?
I pulled my T-shirt over my head and stepped out of my jeans then climbed onto the foot of the bed and crawled toward him in nothing but my black satin bra and panties. His eye flashed in hungry recognition, and he pulled the covers aside to let me under.
The linen sheets were crisp and cool and far too real against my skin. I was about to do something forbidden, to surrender fully to something I was all too aware was wrong.
But it’s something you’ve chosen. You’re in control.
How easily I could lie to myself. I was as far from control as California was from Connecticut. Even the touch of my hair as it brushed my back turned me on.
Cyrus pulled me into his arms, his naked skin made somewhat warmer from desire. “You look better than I thought you would,” he practically purred as he swept a hand down my back and over the curve of my buttocks.
Goose bumps rose on my skin. “How did you think I’d look?”
He traced lazy circles over the rise of my spine as his hands moved over my back. “I don’t know. Perhaps harder, more manly. You always hide beneath such masculine clothes.”
I pushed against him, my breasts spilling over the cups of the bra as they pressed against his chest. He dipped his head and ran his tongue across the seam between the fabric and my flesh. “But not tonight.”
Sliding the straps down my arms, he leaned away, exposing my newly uncovered skin to the cold of the room. His eye darkened as he reached for the front clasp of my bra and released it.
I wanted nothing more than to yank the blankets up to my chin and hide from his severe evaluation, but he threw them aside so his view was entirely unobstructed.
He said nothing, unsure of what I expected to hear. He took his time looking me up and down until I thought I’d scream just to break the tension.
Slowly, deliberately, he glided a sharp fingernail from the hollow of my throat to the top of my panties. I arched my hips shamelessly, and he slid his finger beneath the satin, slicing the garment with his nail. Then he took the two halves of the fabric and ripped it completely away from my body.
“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been with one of our kind?” he whispered, lowering his head to nibble my stomach.
I didn’t particularly want to know about his past conquests, but I asked, anyway. “How long?”
“Over half a century.” He parted my legs, running the tips of his nails leisurely up and down the insides of my thighs. “Sex with humans doesn’t compare.”
With a flick of his wrist, he made a shallow cut just above my knee. I hissed at the pain of it, then moaned when he lifted my leg and closed his mouth over the blood that welled there.
When he withdrew,