Page 2 of Ashvale: The Vampire's Kiss

One warm hand snatched my jaw and jerked my head to the side, and then she was in me, drinking me down in the way that set my blood alight. Her groan of pleasure made my heart thump harder, adrenaline coursing through me and fogging over my brain as I let her drink and drink. My hips jerked involuntarily as she pressed against me, adjusting the grip of her mouth until her tongue stroked tauntingly at the pulse point of my throat. At least like this, we fit. There was no hesitation, no fumbling or worry, just the surety of pleasure and pain in an equal measure that led to ecstasy.

“Leonora,” I panted and her low growl made me harder, my blood rushing in another direction completely. “Leonora—” I tried to warn her again and she hissed at me, I got it then. She didn't want to want me, she wanted to pretend. I laughed, the sound dark and without much humour before I ripped her from my throat and flipped our positions around so she was caught with all-fours on the bar and I knelt behind her. I gripped her dark hair in one fist, looping it around my fingers and pulling until her head craned back, the creamy column of her throat begging to be made red from my mouth, my teeth. But I wasn't going to give her that. Not yet.

“Fine. You want nothing but lust and blood, Leonora? Then that's what you'll get.” I ripped her fishnets further, pushing up the tiny hem of her mini skirt to reveal the curve of her ass and the dimples on her thighs. I cracked one palm off of her arse and felt my cock twitch when her pussy fluttered beneath her underwear. I tugged the lacy material to one side and slapped her again on her bare pussy, loving the wet sound it made as she gasped for me, tilting her hips upwards for more. “This is what you want, right?” I spanked her again, the friction burning my palm as she cried out, growing slicker beneath my fingers. “To be punished.” I slid two fingers into her and closed my eyes, tilting my head to the ceiling in an effort to hold onto my patience, before she tightened around the digits and my will snapped altogether. “You're so?—”

“Shut up,” she said emphatically. “I don't need you to talk when you fuck me.”

“Fine,” I snarled and deftly unzipped my jeans, pumping myself twice before thrusting into her in one long movement and shuddering at the heat that embraced me. “I won't make another sound. You, on the other hand, are going to scream for me.” I pushed a finger into her pussy as I pulled out and immediately slid it into her arse as my cock filled her pussy again. She could pretend to hate me all she wanted, but she couldn't hide the way her body begged for mine.

A whimper wrang out from her and I smirked but stayed silent, as promised. Instead, I upped my pace, working her with my cock and my fingers in tandem before grabbing her hair again in my free hand. When she was ready to beg for me, then I would drink from her.

At the first sign of submission, I pulled her towards me, arching her back as I sank my smaller fangs into her throat, feeling the taste of her coat my tongue, sinking inside me. I licked my lips and let the blood run down her throat, licking a long path upwards before it could spill down onto her T-shirt. Her body moved frantically against mine and I moved hard, fast, my grip on her thighs bruising and my head swimming as she suddenly clenched around me.

Muscles quivering, Leonora screamed and I smiled when it was my name that spilled out across her tongue. No matter what, she knew who she belonged to, whose fangs marked her skin and whose cum trickled out of her. I released her abruptly and zipped up my jeans, running a cursory hand over my mouth to clean up any last drops of blood. Now, before her adrenaline crashed, was when I had to leave. Too many times I'd stayed too long and been knocked out for my trouble.

I grabbed a bottle from behind the bar, inspecting the rum quickly before taking a swig and heading for the door. “Go home, Leonora.”

“Go to hell, Hayes.”

Chapter Two

Leonora

“Hi,” I said cautiously as the heavy wood door swung open. Yesterday was only the most recent time that Hayes had tracked me down. I wasn’t sure if it had been his words, mentioning Emerson and Novalie, or if I’d grown tired of aimlessly wandering—or running, as Hayes would have said—but he’d gotten inside my head.

I’d needed time to myself, to digest or sulk or both. And yes, it made me a shitty friend and an even shittier… whatever Hayes and I were. Especially because it wasn’t until I’d shown up back at Ashvale that I’d discovered Hayes wasn’t here either—hadn’t been for at least as long as me.

Novalie blinked at me, eyes widening and then narrowing as she stood in the centre of the doorway. “Hi? Hi? Where the hell have you been?”

I shrugged. “Looking for answers.” It sounded like a better answer than what I'd actually been doing—getting blood drunk, wallowing, and hunting.

“And did you find them?” Novalie folded her arms across her chest and I could hear her heart beating unsteadily even as a muscle in her jaw flexed.

“Not really.” We stared at each other for a beat more before I sighed. “Are you going to let me in?”

“No.”

I stiffened, anger washing through me. That seemed to be my standard setting nowadays, angry, ready to snap—or bite—at a moment's notice. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Novalie lifted her chin defiantly, cocking one hip out as she swept her dark fringe out of her eyes.

“God, put your dicks away already.” A peculiar warmth spread through my chest at the sound of that voice—Emerson. It was as close to belonging as I'd ever felt. Novalie reluctantly stepped to one side as Emerson appeared over her shoulder. “I think what Novalie meant to say is that we've missed you and we're glad you're home.”

“Of course,” Novalie said, smiling sweetly even as she managed to make the two words sound like fuck off and die. “You staying? Or just passing through?”

“That'll depend on how much you piss me off,” I said with just as much sugar as her and Novalie finally relaxed.

“Fine, come in. But you better have brought presents and answers.”

“Presents?” Emerson raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow as I walked into the room, choosing to ignore Novalie's request for now.

“When someone goes on holiday, they're supposed to bring their friends back a present.” Novalie closed her door and immediately flopped onto her bed, the covers were rumpled like they'd been beneath the duvet before I arrived. “Shitty little bracelet or a stick of rock.”

“I'm not sure I'd call a murder spree a holiday,” Emerson pointed out.

“I didn't murder anyone.” I stopped in front of Novalie's desk chair and paused to think about it. “Well, not anyone who didn't deserve it anyway.”

“So... Did Rowan deserve it?” Emerson shushed Novalie behind me, like I was a wild animal that could snap with just the wrong word. They weren't far off, most of the time, but I tried to channel my anger into constructive energy. Sure, I'd had my fun with some humans, but I hadn't killed any of them—only the men at the back of the bar who couldn't take no for an answer.

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