Page 12 of The Biting Bargain

Just combine an unscrupulous vampire mind, heaps of money and even more greed, and two hundred years of unleashed predatory capitalism later the result is me: the ultimate asshole and lone wolf of financial industries, as one of those management magazines just recently and unsubtly dubbed me.

Ask anyone. I have more skeletons in the closet than your garden variety mobster. I have duped more unsuspecting partners than you will ever know, leveraged people into doing unspeakable things and and took whatever the fuck I wanted in order to achieve my goals. More recently, I even threw my own brother under the bus in order to restore the family honor.

That’s Vincent Renard for you, folks. I take what I want, and I don’t give a fuck about niceties. And now I'm about to break that little unsuspecting dove that has just fluttered in my clutch, who is now looking at me with eyes cloudy with lust and whispering, "Please don't stop."

Yeah, I am a bastard.

I shouldn't enjoy so much how things escalate. I shouldn’t relish the copper taste of her blood still tickling my mouth as her life energy rushes through my veins like crackling fireworks. My entire body feels like it's hooked to a live wire.

She tastes fantastic.

Out of this world.

That I was able to tear myself away, that I didn't drain her to the last drop, was a miracle in itself. And I know, things like that happen from time to time, even if it's against club policy and offenders are banned for life. But that's not why I stopped.

The true reason why I have crowbarred myself away from her delicious neck rumbles possessively in my chest, annihilating my resolve that this is a bite-only event.

Iwanther.

She clings to my shoulders, looking deliciously flushed. And for the first time in a long time, I feel desire.

In the past ten years, the perks in this club have grown rather… boring. I've fucked more pretty and willing drones in Club Sanguine — and in many other similar establishments — than I can ever remember. But at some point, things got stale. The curse of us quasi-immortals. Everything grows tiresome after a while, washed out and dull. Every fuck is only a copy of the next. Hence my abstinence in this respect. For the last ten years, I have only bitten drones in the arm, bored out of my mind, not allowing this kind of closeness at all.

Now there is only one thing I want.

I want this girl for myself. And for what I have in mind, I can't draw the critical amount of blood from her. I want her conscious. I want her wide awake when she comes on my lap until she forgets her own name.

Now I have no choice but to see it through to the end, never mind Aidan and his precious schedule. He can wait.

Break my own rules, for a change. Can’t hurt to have a little fun.

I widen my seat, eliciting a delicious gasp from her as I force her legs to spread wider. Her skirt, awfully short to begin with, rides up her thighs completely, exposing those delicate pink panties.

"You're all worked up," I murmur, leaning into her. She melts into my touch, shudders as I breathe in her scent. I lick over the bright red bite marks I've left on her flawless skin. She will wear them for a few more days, a clear sign that I have marked her as mine. A small residue of her blood hums on my tongue like an angry hornet.

"Please…" she whimpers.

I let my hand slide down the gentle curve of her hip, brush my knuckles along the sensitive skin of her thighs and find the silky fabric of her panties. She takes a sharp inhale as my thumb bumps against the soft fabric.

"You sure you don't want me to stop?" I ask, more of a rumble than words. She nods, whimpering as my thumb slides along the fabric. It’s silk, exquisite and expensive fabric that makes me wonder briefly why she's wearing such lavish lingerie when all she's doing is ticking off "Bite Only"?

The fabric is deliciously damp against my touch. I slide further up, finding the right spot, parting her silky folds through the fabric, and she gasps as I apply just the right amount of pressure to her clit.

"I won’t stop," I rumble as I start to stroke her in slow circles.

"Oh, good…" She clings to my shoulders, rolling her hips.

I know what I'm doing, I have enough knowledge of human anatomy and it won't take long until she is putty in my hands. Me drinking from her has her so heated up and ready that I stoke her desire to dizzying heights within seconds. I force her thighs a little further apart. She squirms in my grip, pressing into my touch.

It's just my thumb against the soft, and utterly wet fabric of her panties. Nothing more. And yet, in this moment, she is mine. And the climax I will coax out of her will also be mine.

And she knows it.

The thought alone makes the dark shadow inside me go absolutely feral.

"You're going to come, little dove," I growl against her ear. "You're going to come on my lap. You are going to come all over my hand like a good girl. And it'll be so good, you'll beg for more."

Oh, all the depraved things I’m going to do with you, little dove, you have no idea.

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