Vampires of Noctra(22)

He wanted to say he felt disgust at the obvious feeding, but he could not. His own nipples screwed tightly with the desire to feel the vampire's

teeth puncture his flesh. A sharp, directed phantom pain shot through the point of his nipple as his hunger for the vampire grew.

He watched as Donté flexed his hips, fucking the sailor as he fed from him. Slow and easy. The smell of heat and sex and blood threaded

throughout the room, burrowing inside Skye.

In all the couplings he'd witnessed since arriving on the ship, this one sent him careening closest to the edge of his control.

Donté eased his fangs from Velvet's chest. Licked across the puncture marks. His hips never stopped moving as he continued to fuck the man

beneath him. He looked at Skye.

"It could be you beneath me now. It could be your blood singing through my veins." He cupped Velvet's face and kissed him again. A deep,

passionate kiss that seemed to last forever.

"I've told you, you will not have my blood. I will not take the scars of your vampire hunger."

Donté's thrusts grew more pronounced. He watched Skye as he plunged into Velvet. "The men of my crew know their place."

"I am not one of your crew."

Donté surged into Velvet, a hand wrapped possessively around his cock and then Velvet was crying out with his climax.

"I can smell your lust, Templeton. Strip and join us. Let me show you how good it can be with a vampire."

"I will not be brought beneath your spell, Captain." He rose to his feet and stared at the vampire. "But why don't you come to me and I can show

you how it feels to submit? Because I think that's what you really want. To submit to me."

It was a brash statement, one guaranteed to get a rise out of the vampire. Skye saw Donté's eyes flash red in the darkness. He heard a growl and

had to wonder if his life was about to forfeit. Had he gone too far?





Chapter 7




Donté slipped from the bed and re-buttoned his britches. His white linen shirt was spotted with Velvet's blood, but he paid it no mind. He

unfastened the cuffs binding Velvet to the bed. The man was only partially conscious.

He inspected the sailor, looking for signs of any undue distress. The man seemed oblivious to anyone else in the room. He would deal with Skye

Templeton only after he was certain Velvet was attended to properly.

Donté cared for all of his crew, each and every one important to him, each in his own way. His glance met Skye's look of curiosity--and challenge.

Donté poured out a glass of wine and then returned to the bed. He lifted Velvet's head so he could drink some of the wine.

After a moment he placed a hand over Velvet's eyes and placed a command into his mind. "Sleep, Velvet. Sleep until I awaken you." The vampiric

order had the desired effect and within seconds Velvet was sound asleep, soft snores emanating from him.

Rising from the bed he turned to look at Skye. "Why do you continue to challenge me? I feel the lust building inside you. Why do you fight it?

You can block me from your mind, but I can see into your heart."

Skye's blue gaze studied the vampire and Donté felt his body respond to the narrowed look. "At least I have a heart," Skye retorted.

Shoulders straight and hands clasped behind his back, the most closed, haughty expression on his face, Skye circled the vampire. Donté struggled

with the power, fought to maintain. He was shocked to realize the lad actually thought to intimidate him. This human sought to dominate him--he

felt it, saw it in his aura. A glint of respect and curiosity overtook him. He felt a surge of heat against his back and knew Skye stood behind him.

Waiting. Felt the danger of the sailor's presence. The challenge to his authority. He could kill the whelp without lifting a finger, didn't he realize

that? So why didn't he?

Skye's warm, human hands dropped onto his shoulders. He knew what was to come, knew he should put a halt to the game now. Knew that he

wouldn't. He had waited for a man like Skye for decades.

The shirt ripped easily as Skye dragged his hand down the back of the expensive, fragile material. The ragged sound of tearing cloth filled the

room. The shirt clung to Donté's arms as he felt the heat of Skye's focus arrow to the white lines of his back. Khan growled.

Donté looked at the big cat. "Be still, Khan." He would have no interference with this duel for control. What came of it--so be it.

"Punishment?" Skye asked as he traced the pads of his fingers over the thin lines adorning Donté's back.

"Not exactly," Donté responded. He shuddered beneath the touch of the human. His fangs ached to taste him, to swallow the power he knew

roared through this man's blood. It had been so long since he'd known the touch of such a strong man.