Anaïs Moreau is a classically-trained ballerina born during Henry VIII’s reign in France. After falling victim to the sexual appetites of a nobleman at court, she suffers betrayal and abandonment at the hands of her aristocratic father. Destitute and distraught, she embraces her friend Christine’s gift of immortality and becomes a vampire. For centuries, Anaïs preys on calculating womanizers whose sole purpose is to manipulate women. Until one day, she meets her match.
Oliver Polinski works for the Bureau of Paranormal Affairs. His job is to plan covert missions and train his army of soldiers to hunt down and kill supernatural creatures, vampires most notably. When Oliver and Anaïs cross paths at a mutual friend’s wedding, they learn that they both prefer sex to be a bit kinkier than most.
Can these two star-crossed lovers overcome blinding hate and prejudice for one another and find love? Only time will tell.
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Give us a taste...
Other
than the barrage of crimson stares, Anaïs found it difficult to make
out faces. She did, however, recognize the guttural moans and groans
of pleasure that came from every corner of the room. In addition, the
loud bass of hard rock pounded against the walls, making the
foundation of the building rattle and hum. The place had been painted
in black with only a few dim strobe lights that flashed on and off at
intermittent times.
Using
the leash he’d insisted she employ, Anaïs paraded her boy toy
across the length of the room. She only released him long enough to
shackle his arms and legs to the hooks that hung from the walls and
low-lying ceiling.
“Are
you sure we can do this?” Anaïs asked with trepidation. She wasn’t
necessarily keen on public exhibition, especially since the two of
them had to make their act appear legitimate. If their resolve
wavered for even a second, the bloodsuckers in the club would see
through it and surely pounce.
“I’m
up to the task. I promise to be a good little sub,” he whispered
huskily into her ear, making goose bumps form on already sensitive
skin. “What about you?”
“This
isn’t generally my scene. But I’m a dancer. I’m used to being
on stage.” Anaïs drew back. She stared into the depths of her
lover’s eyes, gauging his mood. “You do realize, I’ll have to
bite you. If not, these fuckers won’t buy the charade.”
Oliver
shrugged his shoulders, then handed Anaïs the flogger he’d kept
huddled at his side. “No safe word, eh? Well, I suppose you’ve
earned a bit of retribution.”
Anaïs
squared her shoulders, then yanked on the chains that bound him to
ensure they were secure. She had to make her role as dominatrix seem
real. After a brief moment of hesitation, she strutted around his
tightly-coiled body, her perusal gluttonous and intense. At least she
hoped that’s the way it looked. As she encircled him, the cat o’
nine tails she held in her hand lashed at the rippled muscle on his
chest. Damn, she found Oliver impossible to resist. Once again, the
urge to ravage him had snuck up on her. There was something about his
refined masculinity that kept her perpetually ensnared. God, she
couldn’t wait to sample the rare, well-preserved vintage of his
blood.
Standing
behind him, Anaïs raked her razor-tipped fingernails down the curve
of his spine. Then she cracked the whip again and watched his body
wince. Her hand drifted up, two bloody fingers teetered on the ridge
of her lower lip. A few seconds later, her tongue slithered out and
sucked the rich, red deliciousness off the fingertips.
That
tiny tidbit of her lover’s life essence drove Anaïs’s libido
into an all-out frenzy. Moisture from her womb soaked through the
slick fabric of her clothing. The warm, slippery wetness slid down
her inner thighs. Her hardened nipples sprang to life, rubbing
painfully against the clingy latex cat suit. She wanted to tear open
the sphere-shaped zippers and thrust her bosom into his face. But
with an audience in tow, forcing her sub to do it with his teeth
would make for a much more convincing show.
At
his mistress’ decree, Oliver lowered his head and obliged,
unzipping the fabric that covered each breast in one fell swoop. He
puckered up and took one plump areola into his mouth, while he rolled
the roughness of his weathered palm over the other.
“Suck
harder, damn it! For Christ’s sake, do as I command.” Anaïs
screamed loud enough for the masses to overhear.
Oliver’s
low rumble reverberated against her skin. No doubt he was turned on,
almost as much as she. With their bodies in such close proximity, she
could hear the man’s heart beating in his chest. His carotid artery
pulsed wildly on the side of his neck and she could no longer war
with her instincts.
Anaïs
felt her sharp, serrated canines emerge, ready to pierce her lover’s
supple flesh. With his mouth still suckling her breast, she reached
down and clasped his enormous cock through his jeans, stroking its
length until he purred like a cat. Once in the throes of pleasure,
she sank her fangs deep, siphoning his blood greedily.
Oliver
bucked slightly, then groaned in a clear attempt to remain in
control. She knew it must have taken everything he had not to yank on
the chains and pull out the stake attached to his hip. To hell with
the fact that her bite had made both of them feel good.
Anaïs
pulled back, releasing the suction from their pleasure racked bodies.
Briefly, she gazed at his face. His eyes still swirled with sexual
intent. The flush of his cheeks and the sweat on his brow served as
proof that Oliver, too, had enjoyed their display.
Anaïs
growled as her tongue swept over the twin pinpricks she’d left in
his neck in order to cauterize the open wound. Her shy insecurities
had been replaced by desire. “Don’t move, lover boy. The show’s
not over yet.”
Hot excerpt! :)
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