“I’m sorry I gave no notice.”
“You’ve been very busy,” Francesca said, moving over to make room for Sylvan on the maroon brocade divan. “It’s been months since you’ve been by to visit.”
“I’m sure Councilor Gates has kept you up to date on the proceedings,” Sylvan said. Zachary Gates might be the official face representing the Vampires to the public, but Francesca was not only the Chancellor of the local Vampire seethe, she was Viceregal of the Eastern Territory. Everyone in the Praetern Coalition acknowledged her as the power behind the throne. Sylvan sprawled on the divan, stretching her arms out along the back. “I don’t want to talk politics.”
“Your timing is excellent,” Francesca murmured, dropping a black silk pillow with gold fringe on the floor between Sylvan’s spread thighs.
She knelt on it and pushed Sylvan’s T-shirt up. “I was just feeding when you arrived.” She looked up at Sylvan as she opened Sylvan’s jeans, her lids languorous, her mouth curved in a sensuous smile. “But I hadn’t finished. I’ve yet to satisfy my other needs.” She leaned forward and ran her tongue over the ridges in Sylvan’s abdomen. A fine line of rich silver pelt erupted down the center of Sylvan’s lower abdomen and disappeared into her jeans. Francesca teased the satiny line that marked a dominant Were when aroused or challenged.
“I see you’re ready.” Francesca ran her nails over Sylvan’s belly and Sylvan shuddered.
“Do it.” Sylvan raised her hips and Francesca stripped her jeans down her legs. Her clitoris rose, engorged and stiff. She growled softly when Francesca fingered it. Francesca murmured approvingly as Sylvan’s sex glands, the firm nodes buried in the flesh framing her clitoris, swelled in response to her teasing.
“I can’t ever remember these being so full.” Francesca massaged the glands with her fingertips, forcing Sylvan’s clitoris to jerk. Licking gracefully along the shaft, Francesca sighed as if savoring rare ambrosia.
“You’re too ready for me to linger, I’m afraid.”
“Don’t.” Sylvan’s claws extended. “Just drain me.”
“Oh,” Francesca whispered. “I will.”
Unhurriedly, Francesca parted her crimson lips, giving Sylvan a fleeting glimpse of her incisors, before she drew Sylvan’s clitoris deep into her mouth. Sylvan tensed, steeling herself. With infinite care, Francesca bit down on the rigid shaft and began to suck. Her incisors pressed the sex glands into the bone beneath.
Groaning, Sylvan arched off the sofa, her claws gouging through the fabric into the wood frame. Each pull of Francesca’s powerful throat ripped the fire from her blood. Her sex beat heavily between Francesca’s lips, pumping her power down Francesca’s throat. The Vampire scored Sylvan’s midsection with scarlet nails. Sylvan panted, struggling to contain her furious wolf as Francesca pulled harder at her flesh, drinking her essence. This was not what her wolf craved but all she would permit. The physical relief was intense but not sexual—and as much pain as pleasure. Sylvan never climaxed from Francesca’s ministrations, but she found some brief respite from the wild hunger that drove her. Enough so that her urges no longer threatened to plunge the Pack into chaos.
“More,” Sylvan gasped when Francesca started to withdraw. Her clitoris was still rigid, her sex glands tight and aching. “Empty me.” Francesca resumed sucking, shuddering as she absorbed the potent mixture of Were pheromones and sex kinins. A minute later, when Francesca would have stopped, Sylvan curled her hand around the back of Francesca’s neck, claws extended to hold her in place. She had to release the hormones overwhelming her system, and she didn’t dare risk true release with another Were. The sex frenzy could too easily become mating frenzy, and she did not want to risk activating the mate bond. Only a Vampire as powerful as Francesca could drain her enough to temper the heat. “More.”
After what seemed like a long while, Sylvan’s clitoris softened and Sylvan relaxed, lethargy suffusing her.
“Sylvan,” Francesca sighed, her voice heavy with satisfaction.
“Even you aren’t strong enough for me to take more.” She rose gracefully, parting her dressing gown along the split that ran up one side, and straddled Sylvan’s bare stomach. She was slick and hot against Sylvan’s skin, her clitoris a hard knot against Sylvan’s belly.
Undulating slowly, Francesca flicked her tongue over the pulsing vein in Sylvan’s neck. “Let me drink from you. Let me make you come.”
“No,” Sylvan said, although she was almost too depleted to physically resist. She would never willingly submit to Francesca, but if Francesca fed from her, the hormones Francesca secreted into the deep bite would make Sylvan come whether she wanted to or not.
“I promise you pleasure.” Francesca lightly pierced Sylvan’s skin, the teasing bite reminiscent of a Were’s during passion.
Sylvan’s clitoris tightened, but she could tolerate the stimulation now. She did not want sex, but she would not deny Francesca, whose blood need after so much stimulation would be agonizing. Without blood a Vampire couldn’t achieve ultimate release. “Taste me enough to satisfy yourself, but don’t feed. Don’t make me come.”
“As you wish.” Francesca, exerting more control than any other Vampire could have managed, brought herself to the brink of orgasm on Sylvan’s stomach. Then with a quicksilver flash of incisors, she pierced Sylvan’s neck just deep enough to start a slow flow of blood. She did not feed fully, even when Sylvan’s Alpha blood sent her into wrenching orgasm. When her climax finally dwindled away, she licked the thin blood trail from Sylvan’s neck and murmured sluggishly, “Take me to bed. I must sleep now.”
Sylvan gently moved Francesca aside and rose unsteadily. After zipping her jeans, she picked Francesca up, cradled her to her chest, and carried her into the adjoining room. She placed her in the center of the huge circular bed and carefully covered her with a white sheet that bore crimson stains from Francesca’s earlier festivities. Then she turned off the ornate crystal lamp next to the bed. Francesca would not waken until after dark.
Sylvan made her way slowly back upstairs, her legs heavy. Her hands trembled as she checked to be sure that the door to Francesca’s lair had locked behind her. Guy was Francesca’s only protection while she slumbered. Francesca trusted Sylvan with her life, just as Sylvan had trusted Francesca with hers.
“She shouldn’t be disturbed,” Sylvan said as she passed the bar on her way out.
Guy muttered something that sounded like fucking Were as she passed, but Sylvan wasn’t inclined to fight. She wanted to curl up and sleep for the short respite she had before the frenzy rose again.
Niki was waiting just outside the door. Her eyes went to Sylvan’s neck, where the bite marks were already fading. She didn’t say anything as she opened the back door of the Rover and followed Sylvan in.
Sylvan leaned her head against the sidewall and closed her eyes.
“Is there no other way?” Niki asked quietly.
“Not for me.”
Chapter Ten
Sylvan woke with her face nestled against a firm, warm, naked abdomen. Fingers played through her hair. She scented safety, familiarity, Pack. Stretching, she registered another body pressed against her legs. The Rover passed over the sensors built into the Compound approach road, causing an ultra-high-pitched signal that alerted the sentries on the inner perimeter to an oncoming vehicle. Opening her eyes, Sylvan smiled up at Niki. “Almost home.”