Read a sneak peak of Flint HERE!
A Vampire’s Thirst: Flint
Flint sat on the soft, plush armchair, watching as the leggy blonde reached behind her back to unzip the red dress that was barely legal. It just about covered her ass and breasts, but that’s what had caught his eye earlier, causing his blood to burn and his fangs to surge painfully against his gums, longing for freedom and the urge to feed rushed through him . . . again.
Shit, what was going on with him? This was the third night in a row he’d frequented the club since Victor had left on his honeymoon and each night he’d ended up right where he was now. In one of the back rooms with a willing and gorgeous woman who he’d fuck . . . and sink his fangs into. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. The first night he’d fucked hard and when his fangs had sprung free he’d leapt off his surprised companion and rushed from the room using his Vampire speed, headed home and used his supply of donor blood . . . the next night, however, he’d succumbed to the temptation.
Tonight, he knew he would feed. His fangs already piercing his gums and his restraint had disappeared . . . a distant acquaintance he’d been speaking with appeared to have deserted him but he had no time to think about that. Not now, not when this vision of beauty was gliding toward him in fuck-me heels and nothing more . . . other than blood-red lipstick that he’d soon see around his cock.
He leaned back in the armchair, unzipping his pants. “Kneel,” he commanded, pointing to the floor, the word coming out distorted around his fangs.
Her eyes grew large, her full, obviously fake, breasts heaved at the sight of them, and he could hear her blood rushing through her as she nodded, excitement coursing through her . . . as much as the desire he could scent wafting from her already wet center. “Of course,” she breathed as she fell before him.
Reaching for his rock-hard length, she held it in her hand before bending forward, her scarlet lips opening to take him inside her warm mouth. It was exquisite. She was talented, very gifted indeed, and worked his cock like an expert, with her mouth, tongue and fingers. Her eyes open and watching his face intently, her desire and arousal clear for him to see and when he opened his mouth and ran his tongue over his fangs she groaned around him, sending shockwaves through his groin as she fidgeted between his legs, clamping her own thighs together.
Flint reached down, tangling her hair in his hand. “You want my cock inside you? My fangs in your skin while your blood drips down my throat? Is that what you want?”
Her head bobbed frantically, but in all honesty, that’s what he was craving. He could almost taste her B-Positive as it slid across his tongue, warm and delicious with a hint of the wine she’d been drinking earlier. He’d be able to taste it, he knew he would, as it glided down the back of his throat and down, down, down . . . damn, he couldn’t wait any longer. Tugging her head away he growled, “All fours, baby, I’m ready to fuck you senseless and give you the best damn night of your life.”
“Yes!” she gasped out, her chin dripping and her ruby lipstick now a red mess on her face as she spun around into position.
Her pert ass stuck up, legs apart, calling him forward and he took no time to drop to the floor, tugging his pants down only far enough so he could pound into her . . . after all, once he was finished, he’d be out of there as fast as possible. This was no date he was on and she was no girlfriend. She’d come to the club with one thing on her mind: find a Vamp for the kind of thrill that only they could give and that’s what he was going to provide, in spades.
Her skin was silky smooth, with a slight tan but still pale under his hand as he ran it down her spine as she quivered beneath his touch, the fingers of his other hand delving between her thighs to dip into her wet folds. “You’re ready for me, dripping wet.”
She moaned louder as he pulled his fingers out, replacing them with the head of his cock. He wasted no more time, thrusting in with one long hard push, his fingers digging into her waist and holding her in place as her back arched and her throat was presented to him like a meal on a silver platter. Damn it. Flint could see her vein pulsing beneath her skin . . . screaming at him to sink his fangs into it and drink his fill. He knew the moment he did that he’d send her over the edge into ecstasy and he wasn’t quite ready to do that. Not yet. He wanted a few more moments of his own pleasure before . . . oh shit. Who was he kidding?
He wanted her blood more than he wanted her pussy and he was lying to himself if he tried to say otherwise. He wouldn’t be in this damn back room with her if that wasn’t the case. He knew the moment he led her here that’s what he was going to do . . . again. Feed. On her warm blood. Not his bagged donor blood. No. Tonight he was going to feast on a live vein and he was going to do it now . . . this very damn minute because he couldn’t hold on for another fucking minute.
His muscles tensed, the anticipation building to a crescendo inside him as he covered her body with his as his hips pummeled against her willing body as her flesh shivered beneath him. He reached around, his fingers circled her throat, holding her firmly in place and lowered his head, scraping his fangs along her soft skin before piercing it gently. She stiffened below him, her groans of pleasure growing as his bite soared her to heights only a Vampire could take her to. His cock pounding into her heat, throbbing with need as her warm blood trickled onto his tongue. A frenzy of flavors ignited as he swallowed his first taste of her, and yes, there was the hint of the wine she’d drank earlier, he could taste the merlot as her life’s blood slithered down his throat so divinely.
He swallowed over and over, his seed spilling into her as she screamed again and again as multiple orgasms wracked her slim body . . . until he reluctantly retracted his fangs, pulling free from her throat and running his tongue over the wounds to seal them closed. Damn, he wanted more but he wasn’t so far gone as to drink her dry.
She collapsed to the floor, spent but happy, a lazy smile on her face. “That was . . . amazing.”
Flint sighed, stood and fixed his clothing. “Are you okay?” he asked, staring down at her pale face.
“I’m fine,” she sighed.
Remorse coursed through him as he stared at her and he bent over, picked her up and gently carried her to the velvet sofa. Placing her down, he pulled the throw over her. “I’ll send someone back with a drink and to check on you.”
She waved a hand at him, dismissing his concern. “I’m all right. Honestly. Thank you for your concern, but I’ll be okay.”
He tilted his head, “I have to go.” He heard her say a quiet goodbye as he turned and fled quickly, with too many emotions running through him that he could barely keep up with them, or even name them.
When he returned to the main club, he grabbed one of the waitresses he knew and asked her to take some refreshments to the room. He didn’t care what the woman said. He wanted someone to check on her . . . she looked pale and needed liquid and something high in sugar to drink. Then he made to leave, guilt rearing its head once again. Weaving his way toward the entrance he was almost there when a hand landed on his shoulder, a voice at his ear, and his stomach clenched. Fuck. It was the last person in the damn world he wanted to catch him here. Almost. The absolute last person would be Victor, but he was half way around the world on his honeymoon, but the next person on that list was now behind him.
“I didn’t believe it. When I heard that Flint, the righteous Flint, was frequenting this club and having a high old time with the girls. Well, I could understand that part . . . the having fun with the girls,” the voice chuckled as Flint turned around to face the man he didn’t want to see standing right there, before he continued, “Then the little birdie said that you weren’t just having fun with the girls, but that you were feeding from them. And, as I just happened to be in the area . . . on business with the local office . . . I decided to drop by and see if that were true. So, here I am, and here you are, and what do I smell, Flint? Oh wait . . . blood, human blood, and you’ve just fed. Hmm, what’s wrong, Flint? When, Victor’s away, Flint will play?”
Clarence Fucking Collins. The Directive’s top investigator, and here he was standing right there and sneering up at Flint. Damn it to hell and back again. It took all of Flint’s steely resolve not to smash his fist into Clarence’s face to wipe that smug look off it. Instead he forced his body to relax, lowered his shoulders, and pasted a smirk on his face. “What? You’ve nothing better to do than to come and see what I’m up to? No criminals to go hunt down? After all, Clarence, it’s perfectly legal to do what I’ve done. Isn’t it? I’ve not committed any crime . . . have I?”
Clarence stiffened, his eyes closing to slits as he leaned in. “No crime, Flint, but it’s not like you to frequent these types of places and you’re like your boss . . . you don’t feed on live donors. So, want to fill me in on what’s going on?”
Flint shrugged. “No, it’s none of your damn business.” He turned away, throwing over his shoulder as he strode away. “Maybe if you and the fucking Directive did your jobs instead of harassing law-abiding people, the world would be a safer place for everyone.”
His words hit their target. Clarence’s face whitened, his jaw tightened, and his mouth set in a hard line but he didn’t answer. Flint felt the man’s eyes on him the entire time until he’d left. Fuck. That was the last thing he needed: to be in the crosshairs of the damn Directive.
Like what you’ve read? Get Flint HERE!