Page 10 of Ouch! My Vampire Doms Keep Biting Me
“Mr. Johannson,” Izzie says with a professional smile. Her giant silver and turquoise hoops catch the light as she tilts her head. “It’s so nice to see you.”
“You too, Izzie,” I say. “And call me Xander, please.”
“Of course.”
I’ve told her this several times, but she seems to prefer the formality and deference. It could be my dominant nature bringing it out of her, or she could just be a stickler for showing one’s boss respect with aMr.or aMs. Or maybe it’s merely a joke to her, to call me Mr. Johannson and then have me correct her. Perhaps she views it as part of our script when I check in.
“It seems quiet here today,” I say.Do you know where that intoxicating scent is coming from?
“It has been. Two walk-ins, and the rest members, but no more patrons than usual.” She shows me the tally for the daily guests.
“Excellent. All looks well, here. I’m just going to poke around upstairs.”And hunt down whoever smells like jasmine.
“Can I find a book for you?”
“No, thanks. I think I know my way around.”
She laughs and I give her a nod before looking around the entryway, following my nose. That scent. It’s intoxicating. It lingers in every room, taunting me.
I’m a vampire. My primal kink is ingrained in both the subtle and not-so-subtle changes to my DNA. Nothing gets me harder than a hunt. Not long ago in Low Vice, I watched a young blond submissive run from her Dom, racing between the tables, her heartbeat deliciously fast. It had been a delicious chase to witness.
This chase, however, feels more private, more intimate, likely because I am a participant instead of an observer.
I weave through the rooms on the first floor, but it doesn’t seem she spent much time here, my little mouse. Up to the second floor, where I get more and more frustrated with every room. My cock presses painfully against my zipper. If the library were closed right now, if it were just Will and I hunting her, he and I would be naked, our hard cocks jutting out as we moved.Once we found our mouse, we’d ravage her clothes with our teeth before plunging into her with our cocks and our fangs, claiming our prey.
We would feed on her blood, feed on her fear, feed on her lust.
She would pay, in pain and pleasure, for keeping me waiting, for making me work for it.
I don’t find her on the second floor.
My instincts are heightened as I take the stairs one by one, moving up to the third floor. One room after another, working my way from the east side over to the west side of the building, systematically looking in every room, stalking through the stacks, winding through display cases.
Finally, my path brings me to my favorite room, the BDSM room. I cannot imagine my luck. My little mouse chose to hide here, of all places? At the entrance to the room, I close my eyes and inhale. Her scent is strongest here.
This is where she’s hiding from me.
I lean against the side of the doorway and examine the room. Falsely at ease.
A woman sits alone at one of the tables with a book open in front of her. Her long, light brown hair falls down her back in a straight sheet. Her wide mouth is so expressive as she reads…and the way she keeps pulling her lips between her teeth tells me she’s aroused. When she’s not biting them, her pale pink lips are lightly parted. The rest of her body signals her arousal, as well. Her heart rate is higher than normal. She squirms in her seat, trying to relieve that ache of need she must be feeling.
I could fill that need. I could fill it until she’s coming all over my cock. She’d scream for me. She’d scream for Will, too. I can already picture it—bending her over that table, bunching up her skirt, sinking into her sweet pussy. Her scent filling my senses. Her moans echoing off the stacks. I’d hold one hand on her back,to keep her down while I gave her pleasure onmytimeline, not hers. And once I’d finished, Will would take over and give it to her once more. We’d do it over and over again. Our little mouse would beg, plead for mercy, for a break, but the orgasms would keep on coming. Night, after night, after night.
The images snap out of existence, replaced with darkness. This would never work. I want her too much.
The last time I felt anything close to this, although it was different in its own way, was with Elisabeth.
This woman in front of me, the one who smells so good, I can tell she would make a perfect amant, the perfect forever-third, completing Will’s and my bonds.
I stare at her for a good, long moment.
I want to laugh at the cruelty of fate. She’s so fucking beautiful, it hurts my chest to look at her. This is a woman I would love to protect, a woman I would love to cherish. Not for one night, but forever.
Which is exactly why I turn around and walk away. Will’s and my version of forever only holds danger for a sweet little mouse like that.
Every step I take away from the BDSM room feels like a stake in my heart, but I do it.
I do it for her, and I do it for Will, and I do it for me.
