Blood Red. Sharon Page

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СКАЧАТЬ he had found a maid beginning her day before daylight and had drunk from her. She’d offered him her tits and quim first, but he’d politely declined. He’d left her weak but healthy, with no memory of his bite, and had gone to where his box waited, placed as per his instructions.

      Yannick closed his eyes. Drifted into sleep, still oddly conscious. He was even sure his eyes were actually open, yet the scene played out before him.

      “Can you imagine both our mouths on you, love?”

      He stood behind Althea, his hands on her slim shoulders. She wore a thin, almost translucent chemise. It fluttered with her quick breaths. Her hard nipples poked against the fabric.

      He could smell her lovely feminine skin, could taste it as he bent his lips to her neck.

      “Can you imagine my hands and his worshipping you?”

      What was this? Bastien lay on the bed, grinning as he reached for the buttons of his bulging breeches.

      He was to share Althea with Bastien?

      Not this time. Not this woman.

      But as the dream played out, he felt himself harden, the erection stealing his fading energy. Yannick tried to will it away, but damn his unruly cock, it stood up defiantly. Hell and the devil, it was a curse to sleep while aroused.

      Even after all the women he’d shared with his brother, he watched in shock as Bastien stripped naked and approached Althea. Then they caressed her together and all that mattered was her pleasure.

      But he’d never shared a woman that he—

      Never a woman like Althea.

      “Can you imagine the erotic pleasure of having both of us bite you?”

      In the dream, his brother’s fangs launched out. As Bastien leaned to her neck, Yannick gripped his brother by the hair and yanked him back.

      “Don’t you want to possess her?” Bastien demanded.

      “No. I am not taking her from life. Not just for me.”

      “For us.” His brother’s grin widened, arrogant and goading. “For both of us.”

      His brother laughed and the dream exploded into a blinding white light, then faded into twinkling dust.

      Bastien’s mocking laugh echoed in his head. Yannick fought to block it out.

      Before Althea had come to him in his dreams, he’d planned to let his time run out and evaporate into dust. He hadn’t intended to use the incantation and release Bastien—once he was dead, Bastien would be freed anyway. Why in hell would he want to fight for his existence? He’d hidden the truth for ten years—if he continued to exist he would have give up everything. His title. His home. His country. People had begun to notice he never aged. His peers in London already joked that he’d sold his soul.

      But to die now would be to leave Althea for Bastien.

      He would be dead, so why in hell would it matter if Bastien captured Althea’s heart?

      Day sleep stole over Yannick, pulling him deeper into darkness. He willed his fingers to move. They responded slowly, several heartbeats after he sent the impulse.

      He remembered the way Althea’s lashes had shielded her eyes. The way her wide green eyes had darted away as he walked nude into the moonlight. He had caught her expression of guilt. He’d attributed it to a virgin’s shyness after tumultuous sex.

      Damn, it was because she was lying to him.

      4

      Resurrected

      Touch us, Althea. Stroke us both.

      She was dreaming again. In the shadowy bedroom once more, she lay in the middle of the massive bed. Soft lamplight spilled over the crimson bed hangings, flitted along the fluted posts, and danced across her skin. She was naked, her hair loose and fanned over her bare breasts. Althea kept her thighs pressed together and her hand rested demurely over her nether curls, hiding them.

      An embroidered silk counterpane stretched beneath her, smooth and soft against her skin. Yannick lay alongside her on the right. He levered up onto his shoulder and smiled down into her eyes as he stroked his knuckles along her cheek. Her nude vampire-warrior. His large erection parried against her thigh. His hair and eyes gleamed bright and silver-gold in the wavering light.

      But the sensuous voice had come from her left.

      Long golden hair tickled her lips and cheek. Firm male lips slanted over hers from the left while Yannick bent and licked her neck from the right. Yannick’s hands slid beneath her left breast and lingered over her heartbeat, but another man’s hand nudged his away.

      Pleasure shivers tumbled down her spine as their hot mouths claimed both her mouth and her throat. Each man cupped a breast. She sensed the slight differences in their hands. Yannick’s rougher, his brother’s smooth. Yannick’s fingers pinched and teased her nipple, but his brother turned caresses into pain—not enough to make her cry out and fight him, but enough to make her moan in sweet agony.

      Althea gazed up into her second lover’s mirrored eyes, dark pools of heat and erotic knowledge. She knew he was Yannick’s brother, Sebastien de Wynter.

      Fraternal twins, she thought, hazily, as his hands skimmed down toward her thighs. Though shadow cloaked them, she knew they were different in looks. Somehow she knew they would be different in the ways they would make love to her.

      Stroke us both, Althea.

      She longed to. Lust burned in her. She shifted her hips and the sensitive curves of her hipbones brushed against both their naked cocks. No, she whispered in her mind. I…I can’t.

      Sebastien’s laugh was low, wicked. Sweetheart, don’t remain a prisoner of your goodness. Enjoy yourself.

      Yannick smiled at her again but his eyes flicked a warning to his brother.

      She’s not yet ready, Bastien.

      How could she hear words meant for his brother?

      Bastien spoke to her. No one sins in a dream, sweetheart.

      Was that true? She needed to believe it was.

      Bold as brass, she reached down and curled her right hand around Yannick’s cock. Her brave action surprised her, and surprised Yannick more, judging by his throaty gasp. She clutched the familiar thickness of his shaft and let her fingertips stroke the velvety length to the firm, full head. Touching it made her wet and achy, made her heart pound in delight.

      Just your touch makes me want to explode.

      She felt the tension in Bastien as Yannick moaned.

      Her left hand crept down. She wanted to pretend she did not control it. Her fingers danced over the very tip of Bastien’s cock. Touched his sticky wetness.

      Yes.

      His cock was СКАЧАТЬ