Page 92 of Damian’s Conquest

“It’s a transfusion,” Maya explained and hung the bag with Mick’s blood onto the IV stand.

Damian took Naomi’s hand and led her outside, closing the door behind them. In the corridor, he turned to the window to look back into the room.

“When will we know if it works?” Naomi asked into the silence while they watched Maya set up the IV.

“Soon.” Damian let out a sigh. “But there’s nothing you and I can do right now. It’s in Maya’s hands.”

She squeezed his hand in reassurance. “I’m glad you’re not punishing Ralph for what his sister did.”

Damian smiled at her, then stared back into the room. “Samson agreed to it. But Ralph won’t remember why his cancer is going into remission. Once he’s healthy again, we’ll have to wipe his memory. Nobody outside our community can know that vampire blood can heal humans.”

“Or they’ll hunt you for your blood,” Naomi concluded. “No wonder you were so concerned when you realized what was in that little vial I found.”

“Yes. And it’s not that we don’t want to help humans, but when would it stop?”

“It wouldn’t. But you’re making an exception for Ralph.”

“And for the people who work for us, or those who are harmed by a vampire. But that’s where our charity has to end. There’s only so much blood we can donate without endangering ourselves.”

She put her arms around him. “You’re a good man, Damian.”

“I’m glad you think that.” He lowered his face to her and kissed her. “How about we go home? It’s been a long day for both of us. We can check on Ralph in the morning.”

She yawned. “I think that’s a good idea.”

39

Damian carried the sleeping Naomi into his flat, and kicked the door shut behind him. She’d fallen asleep in the car on the ride home, and he wasn’t surprised. The last twenty-four hours had been draining for him too. Without switching on the light in the living room, he walked to his bedroom and laid her down on the bed. He took her shoes off, then began to undress. He emptied his pockets and placed the items in the drawer in his nightstand. As exhausted as he was, he needed to wash the grime, sweat, and dust off his body.

Naked, he walked into his ensuite bathroom, shut the door behind him, and stepped into the oversized shower. Bracing his hands on the tiles, he let the spray of the warm water run over his head and face and down his body. It washed away some of the tension of the last hours. The water massaged his muscles, and he began to relax.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d stood there, when he suddenly heard the creaking hinges of the bathroom door. A smile spread on his face. It appeared that Sleeping Beauty was awake. Slowly, he turned away from the tile wall. When his eyes fell on Naomi, he nearly choked. In the span of two seconds, his cock rose from its sleep, pumping full of blood quicker than ever before.

Naomi stood in front of the shower, dressed in her Little Red Riding Hood costume—minus the cape. Her boobs were nearly spilling out over the top, and she was barefoot.

“When did you—”

“—bring more clothes?” she asked with a coquettish smile. “Your mom suggested I bring a few things from home. She said if you’re anything like your father, I wouldn’t get a chance to go to my place for a while. She came to my flat with me, and then she dropped the bag off here. I hope that’s all right.”

“All right? Remind me to buy my mother an enormous bunch of flowers.” Then he stepped out of the shower and pulled her to him. He slid his arms down to her ass and pushed up the ultra-short skirt, realizing immediately that she wore no panties. “I think you forgot to pack underwear.”

She lifted her face up to his. “I didn’t think I’d need it. Or do I?”

“No, you don’t,” he murmured and captured her lips.

He invaded her mouth and danced with her tongue, his need for sleep suddenly gone. Naomi kissed him back with the same enthusiasm, her hands traveling over his wet skin, igniting a fire inside him that threatened to incinerate him. He ripped his lips from hers and turned her in his arms so she faced the mirror over the vanity, and he stood behind her.

He didn’t need to tell her what he wanted, because the little vixen in his arms had planned this, knowing exactly what turned him on, and made him as randy as a sailor, and half as refined.

She leaned over the marble countertop, her perfect ass pointing at him. Damian gripped her hips, and met her gaze in the mirror. She looked at him with passion-clouded eyes, then tugged on her bustier and pulled it down sufficiently so her tits popped out over the top, her nipples stiff.

“Ah, fuck!” he cursed. “This is gonna be over really fast.”

“Fuck me already.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, and slid his cock between her thighs. When its tip touched her pussy, warmth and wetness welcomed him, and he thrust into her without preamble.

Naomi gasped at the forceful invasion and gripped the countertop for balance. She was slick and tight. Perfect for him. While he fucked her from behind, sliding in and out of her, his tempo increasing with every second, he looked in the mirror and watched her breasts as they bounced up and down. He’d never seen a more erotic sight. He lifted his gaze and met Naomi’s eyes as she watched him, her lips parted, her face a tableau of passion. She panted, her breaths uneven, her heartbeat accelerated, the scent of her blood intensifying as her body heated.