Vampire Seduction Ch 03

Candle light gleamed on her lustrous tresses, turning them to a molten gold where they tumbled over her bare shoulders. Her creamy skin glowed as though moonlight bathed her, and her wide eyes were like chips of amethysts. The shimmery midnight cloth clung to her breasts and hips, exposing the valley between her breasts and a hint of their swell. The gown swirled around her thighs like silky ribbons, caressing her heated flesh. Blood thundered through her veins. Her body felt on fire, as though she were being consumed by lust. Their lust.

Hands reached up to her, catching her arms. They lowered her down among them, the writhing, beautiful, sensual creatures gyrating to the heaving drums that beat in time with her blood. Colour and flesh flooded her senses, and a thrumming began between her thighs.

She walked among them, feeling their caresses as she slowly moved toward the dais and him. Darkness lay across his features, yet her body knew him. Luc. From his left hand dangled a silver dagger, its jewelled hilt scattered with rubies.

Spread out before him was a raised stone slab scattered with rose petals. Her lips parted, instinctively knowing that she would be laid naked upon it. A feast for the men and women surrounding her, caressing her. A sacrifice.

He raised an outstretched arm, beckoning her, commanding her. Her lips parted as a protest formed, yet the surge of bodies drew her forward as though cresting a wave surging toward the shore.

She began to struggle. The caresses turned more demanding. Insistent. "No," she whispered, trying to turn back. Yet they carried her toward him, lifting her off of the ground. The world swayed as she sought desperately to cling to the swaying bodies surrounding her. And then she felt as though she were falling. The dais came closer and closer.

Kate woke with a scream, her breathing hectic. A circular stone chamber greeted her rapidly blinking eyes. She found herself sitting on a wide, sumptuous bed, chocolate silk sheets resting in her lap. Her bare breasts with their taut tips rose and fell heavily. It flooded back to her then. Her father, Luc. Heat swept through her as the images of what he had done to her swirled through her mind.

Her eyes flew around the room, yet she saw no sign of her clothing. Struggling to wrap the sheet around her, she rose from the low bed. The stone was cool beneath her feet as she slowly turned, searching for some sort of entrance, yet finding none. Fear sliced through her at the thought of being his prisoner. Clutching the sheet to her breasts, she followed the wall, running her hand over the smooth, polished onyx stone.

Her lips curved when she discovered the secret. The chamber curled like the heart of a shell, the bed at its centre. She reached the arched entrance, gazing down at the long, flat twisting steps. A gentle brush of air teased her mane as she followed the steps. Thick, spluttering candles the colour of wine rested on stone sconces, lighting her path.

Her thoughts felt sluggish, her body disconnected from her brain as she moved lower and lower to some unknown end. Her body still pulsed with the remnants of her dream, filling her with fear and inexplicable yearning.

"Katalina." The word whispered over her, making the hair tighten on the back of her neck. Kate swung around, her heart racing, yet the steps above her stood empty.

Air swirled around her ankles, reaching higher and stirring the curls between her thighs and gently tweaking her tender nipples beneath the sheet. She shivered, grasping the sheet tighter to her breasts.

What was wrong with her? Her body felt like a molten, tingling mass. Her hand pressed against the cool stone as she took a deep breath, her lashes fluttering close.

The warm breeze ran over her, touching every inch of her as though she stood naked. Fingers stroked through her mane, caressed the sides of her breasts, grazing over her hips and belly. Her nipples tightened and a familiar heat gathered between her thighs.

A pulsing heaviness invaded her limbs, and she leaned against the stone wall. She clung to the hot stone as she slowly slid down until her bottom rested on the stone steps. Drums pulsed in her ears, drowning out all thoughts as her body was consumed by fever. Images of gyrating bodies flittered behind her closed eyelids, drowning her in their wickedness and depravity.

It felt as though hundreds of little tongues flicked over her breasts and belly as her thighs were eased apart. Her breasts grew heavy as sensations rippled through her, her breathing hectic. Her lips parted on a soundless sigh as her back molded to the warm stone, the sheet sliding from her limbs.

Her eyes flickered and closed as fingers and tongues moved traced her ankles, licking a fiery path over her soft skin as they moved higher. Her fingers clutched at the stone steps as kisses were planted along her inner thighs, moving with tantalising slowness toward the melting heart of her. The tension built, coiling tighter and tighter. Her head rolled from side to side as she gave herself willingly over to the pleasure. The image of Luc rising above her, blocking out the light as his body plunged into hers, filled her.

A shiver raced through her as air swirled between her spread thighs. Teeth raked over her throbbing nub, sending pain and ecstasy spiralling through her. She screamed as the tension between her thighs snapped.

Kate blinked, once, twice, gulping in air. The intensity of sensations eased, and she slowly became aware of her surroundings.

"Kate," Luc murmured, and she focused dazedly on the masculine form crouched before her. He wore black pants and boots, his broad shoulders and chest bare. He didn't touch her, simply gazed at her with a strange look on his face.

She moistened her dry lips, running her hands over her thighs. She frowned when she noticed something had rubbed off on her creamy skin. Something red. Blood. She turned her hands over. Her confused violet eyes rose to concerned green ones. "It's not my blood."

"No."

Just like that. He agreed.

"Looks like you've been a busy boy," a feminine voice drawled. Kate's head turned, rising up over the long black boots with their pointy tips, the bare golden thighs that disappeared beneath tiny black shorts. Full breasts rose over a tightly laced black corset. A long black train frothed over the steps behind her Blue eyes set in a coldly beautiful face were fixed on Katie. It was a vision of Barbie gone bad.

"Go away, Mirrabelle," Luc commanded without a glance.

It was only then that Kate realised her breasts were bared, the sheet pooled at her feet. She was conscious of her body still flushed and perfumed with the scent of her own desire. She clutched the sheet to her breasts, hiding the Luc's bites.

"You didn't think you could keep your little slut a secret after that little performance, did you? Only sensing your mark upon her kept the rest away. For now."

"Except you."

"Except me," she smiled, yet it never reached those almond shaped eyes. "But then, my curiosity as to why you dared to bring an obviously untrained human witch here overrode facing your displeasure."

"Luc," Kate pleaded. Help me, she wanted to cry, confused and frightened by what she had seen and felt.

"Mirrabelle, get lost before she accidentally vanquishes you."

The woman's eyes narrowed assessing as they moved over Kate, before she promptly laughed. "Call me when you realise you need me," were her parting words as she turned and disappeared.

"I'm going to pick you up, little one. Are you ready?"

She nodded, holding her trembling arms out. He scooped her up, holding her against his chest and her fingers laced together behind his neck. Soothing coolness washed over her at his touch, banishing the dark sensuality that had enslaved her. Silently he carried her back up the winding steps, his chest never rising. She buried her head against his neck, not wanting to think about it. Any of it.

Luc gently lowered her so that she sat on the edge of the bed, and knelt at her feet, his palms resting on her thighs.

"Are you feeling better?"

He captured her smaller hands in his, turning them palm face up. They both gazed at the smeared blood there. He brought them to his mouth, his tongue lapping at the blood experimentally.

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes at the concern on his face. Slowly she shook her head.

"These walls have witnessed thousands of centuries of blood, power and sex. They breathe it, live it, and to those chosen few, show it."

Memories of strangely beautiful men and women performing intimate acts had tumbled through mind as she reached her zenith, and she blushed. "Why did it chose me?"

"I would be lying if I said I knew." He pressed a kiss against each of her clean palms, before placing them back in her lap.

"Who is Mirrabelle?"

"It doesn't matter. I want you to stay away from her, Kate. Promise me."

"Luc, tell me who she is. Why did you say I could vanquish her?"

Luc sighed. "She is without conscience. She wouldn't think twice about using you to try and hurt me."

"Why would she want to hurt you?"

"Kate, now is not the time. I must attend to some matters, then I will return. I want you to stay here until then." He rose, gently pressing his lips against her frowning forehead. "You will find clothing in the chest."

His left her without looking back. He made her feel like a young child in need of babying. Angrily she rose to her feet and stomped toward the chest. Lifting its carved wooden lid, she peered inside. Her eyes widened, and she lifted the fragile, rose concoction from its bed of lavender scented sachets. She shook it out and laid it over the bed, her hand glorying in the feel of it against her skin. She scooped up the panties that had fallen to the floor. They were made of the same sheer frothy material, held together by silk ribbons. She slipped them on and tied bows at her hips, the ribbons falling to just above her knees. Her face burned at the thought of Luc tugging on those ribbons and baring her to his gaze.

She lifted the gown to her, holding one end over her breasts as she wrapped the silk beneath her arms. It took several attempts to wrap it around her until her nipples were barely visible beneath the layers. The material seemed to move against her of its own will, clinging to the thrust of her breasts and swell of her hips and thighs. The gown finished with a long, thick ribbon which she wrapped around her waist three or four times and tucked it beneath itself.

She ran her hands over hips, glorying in the feel of it. It floated to the floor, and she blushed as it moved as she moved, glimpses of her creamy flesh and rosy nipples playing peekaboo through the layers. Despite its wicked provocativeness, she felt like a princess. An angry princess, she reminded herself. She was not an ignorant child without a mind and thoughts of her own.

She headed for the steps, her arms wrapped around her waist, careful not to touch the walls. She descended the steps, fifty in all, before moving beneath an archway leading onto what seemed like a six foot balcony that extended around the massive circular hall. She walked to the balcony's edge, her hands curling around the stone as she peeked below. It seemed as though a great hall, and she caught glimpses of men and woman milling around.

From an arch to her left appeared two men, beautiful and regal. Their low talk came to an abrupt halt when they saw her standing there. They glided toward her, their gazes moving slowly over her body. Her hand flew to her breasts as she backed up against the stone, a blushed turning her skin pink at what they must see. Even with her hair tumbling down over her shoulders, she knew they saw the tiny pin pricks on her neck and chest.

She watched them as they moved past her, their heads together, their voices low. She gazed about her, and noticed that dozens of arches seemed to lead onto the balcony similar to the one she had passed through. At one point the balcony curved downward in a spill of large stone steps to the floor below. She gazed above, and another balcony was above her. It was a medieval tower of columned archways, disappearing steps and shadows. She shivered at the enormity of the alien place she found herself in, so different from her modern world.

Her heart in her throat, she moved after the two men, slowly following in their footsteps. Were they vampires? Their clothes seemed opulent and stylish, yet belonging to another era. Their skin glowed pale, their lips blood red. Her dream came back to her, of the many hands caressing her, holding her, and she shuddered. It no longer seemed such a good idea to assert her independence and explore on her own.

She abruptly turned, and found a man bearing down on her. He seemed young, not that many years older than her. He was thin and tall, yet possessing a grace and confidence that belied his age. Fine, baby blonde hair fell in waves to his shoulders, framing a boyish face with pale blue eyes and thin lips.

He smiled, as if in welcome, and Kate felt suddenly afraid. Those eyes bored into hers, and they were old eyes, as if they could read every thought.

"Ah," he murmured, his eyes moving over her as he closed the last remaining steps between them. "You are a delightfully exquisite, just as Lucian promised."

She blinked, and he was no longer there. She stiffened when she realised he stood behind her, his long fingers sweeping aside the curtain of her hair as he breathed in deeply. His lips brushed over the marks there, making her skin goose pimple.

"Don't," she choked, and he laughed softly against her. Fear shivered down her back.

He turned her in his arms, his mouth settling over hers. His lips were cold and soft as they tasted hers. She struggled, her eyes squeezed shut, but his hand sunk into the curls at her nape, holding her captive as his lips ground against hers. Tears trembled on her lashes as a hand cupped her breast, teasing the nipple into reluctant life through her wispy gown.

Then the kissed changed, deepened. Luc's scent wrapped itself around her as familiar lips caressed hers. She melted against him, her hands no longer pushing against his shoulders but clinging to the them. "Luc," she breathed against his mouth. The familiar heat stole over her, lighting tiny, tingling fires in her secret place.

His mouth trailed down over her neck and chest to suck on her hard bud through her thin gown. She arched against him, pressing her breast into his cool mouth as her fingers sunk into his silky mane.

He backed her up against the balcony railing, the cold stone pressing against the small of her back. His mouth captured her other nipple, leaving its mate aching as cool air seeped through the clinging damp cloth. Her body quivered against his, yet something teased at her mind.

"Luc," she pleaded, her hips pressing against his. He was soft, and she whimpered in frustration. A palm slipped between the folds of her skirt, and she trembled as cool fingers glided up her inner thigh.

"Open to me, Kate. Let me show you how it can be between us."

Kate's legs clenched instinctively together, imprisoning his hand there. Her lashes fluttered open as realisation dawned. "Nikolas!"

She slapped him. He muttered something in a language she didn't understand, then disappeared. She had barely taken a step before fingers curled around her wrist in a crushing grip, spinning her back around.

"You mind is strong for an untrained witch, yet your strength is no match for mine."

"Let her go, Nikolas." Her head turned, and she saw Luc striding toward them along the balcony. The expression on his face was chilling.

"Ah, your protector has arrived," Nikolas whispered in a confiding manner, yet the way Luc's shoulders stiffened told her he had heard him. Nikolas's thumb caressed her wrist where the pulse throbbed, and she tugged it free.

She stumbled forward into the waiting arms of Luc. She pressed her face against his chest, not wanting to see the anger in his eyes at her disobedience. His arms closed possessively around her, and she clung to him, her fear easing.

"She is mine, Nikolas. Make no mistake."

"Perhaps."

"There is no 'perhaps' about it. Run back to Mirrabelle, like a good little boy."

"You are a fool to flaunt your human witch before Mirrabelle. She will ruin her merely because it would amuse Mirrabelle to do so."

Then the tension in the air eased, and she knew Nikolas had gone. Her body relaxed beneath the soothing strokes of Luc's hand along her back.

"I fear you are not safe here, little one, until I make you fully mine." His quietly spoken words touched something in her, and her head fell back so that she could gaze up at him. Green eyes moved over her face with an intensity that was frightening. "I did not wish it for you so soon, for I wanted time for you to adjust, to accept what must come."

Something about him frightened her, and she pulled slightly away from him. "What do you mean, adjust to what?" she demanded breathlessly. Her dream haunted her, of Luc holding the jewelled knife, the hands holding her. She broke free of him, surprising him. She backed away.

"Kate, Katalina," he called out to her, but she shook her head, turning and racing through the archway before her.

"Stay away from me," she cried over her shoulder. She clutched at her skirt as she raced up the steps, her breaths coming in short gasps.

She felt rather than heard him behind her, then she felt herself spun around and slammed up against the wall. The breath shuddered from her lungs, and blackness dotted behind her eyelids at the impact.

"Do not run from me. Ever." She felt his breath against her bare neck, the tenseness of his body pressed against hers as he fought for control. "My kind are hunters by nature."

Luc's hand pinned hers above her head, his other splayed possessively over her belly. Cool lips pressed against the sensitive skin where her shoulder joined her neck, and she whimpered as she felt the prick of sharp teeth. She squeezed her eyes shut as his tongue licked at her skin, sending trickles of heat down between her thighs.

"It pains me to do it this way, Katalina."

"Then don't," she pleaded.

"There is no more time. Until I possess you fully, you offer too much temptation. I fear I could not fight all of them."

Them, who? A whimper escaped her as his fingers massaged her belly. "W-what is Mirrabelle to you?" she asked, seeking desperately to distract him.

"She made me immortal."

"I don't understand," she cried in frustration. His fingers brushed hers away as he tugged impatiently on the ribbons of her gown.

"She believes it is my duty, among others, to warm her bed."

"Do you?" Jealously seared her.

"Not for over two centuries. She turned to Nikolas in the hope of making me jealous. He knows it, but in his own twisted way, he loves her, if what he feels for her could be described as such."

"Oh." The ribbon loosened at her waist, and she felt him tug impatiently on it. The dress slipped, and cool air washed over her nipples. Her free hand caught it just below her breasts, and he growled.

She knew she could not prevent him from taking her. He had shown her that. Yet a shrinking part of her refused to accede to his domination. She gasped as he lifted her, her belly pressing into his bare shoulder as he carried her down the steps.

His palm pressed against her bottom as he carried her along the balcony until they reached an arch identical to all the others. He strode up the steps without hesitation, and she held onto the back of his leather pants.

They reached the chamber, and he tumbled her onto the bed. She scrambled up onto her knees, pushing the hair back from her face as she sought to cover herself. He paid her no heed, striding toward a tall, ornate stand with tiny draws. He withdrew something, and her breath caught as the candlelight glinted off something metallic.