Page 31 of Quintus

“No, please…” she pleaded, panting for breath as he flipped her onto her stomach. As his hand returned to her mound, she sighed.

“Si, bella…I never thought this could happen…” he breathed.

Gabriella braced herself, presenting her bottom, open and receiving. As he slammed his thick cock into her pussy, she grunted, pleasure spiking through her. Fisting the sheets, she braced herself as he gripped her hips, slamming inside her tight core.

“Quintus,” she cried, his hard cock stretching her open.

“You’re mine,” he told her, wrapping a hand around her waist. “Do you feel this?”

Gabriella pushed upward onto her knees, the palm of his hand guiding her as he fucked her. With her body on fire, she submitted to his wish, accepting every hard inch of him. She mewled as his fingers pinched a nipple, a twinge of pain sharpening her focus.

“You’re beautiful. I’ve never wanted someone so much in my life….ah, yes,” he grunted, thrusting hard inside her tight channel.

“Yes,” she cried as he bit into the soft flesh of her neck, grunting as he came inside her. The wave of her orgasm tore through her, leaving her shaking in ecstasy. Relinquishing control to the ancient vampire, she opened her mind, receiving his energy, allowing him to read her, to know her pain and her joy as he drew her lifeblood into his body.

As he withdrew his teeth, licking over her wounds, she went limp, overwhelmed in sensation. Her wolf crouched in submission to her mate. Quintus eased himself out of her, swiftly cradling her to his chest, his gentle kiss brushing her forehead.

Shocked in the realization that this creature, this man, this dominating vampire was hers, she trembled, both terrified and exhilarated at once. She couldn’t say she was in love but knew without a doubt that she belonged to Quintus and her life was forever changed.

Chapter Seven

Quintus leaned back into his chair, sitting at his desk and sighed. Making love to Gabriella, tasting her blood had been extraordinary. He was her mate. It seemed incredible yet true; she was his, and he’d begun bonding with his little wolf.

He fingered the golden figurine as he reflected on his life, emotion seizing his chest. Thousands of years had passed since he’d been turned. His master, Baxter, had sired hundreds of vampires over the centuries, but only a handful had survived. The skilled sadist bastard took pleasure in the art of torture. He’d skin his victims, bringing them to the brink of death and then reviving them. Inflicting brutal punishments thrilled the malicious vampire. He’d kept a menagerie of creatures at his beck and call, as no supernatural was immune from his fury.

Quintus ran the pad of his thumb over the ridges of the winged metal creature. Although he’d never seen Mao shift, he’d memorized every contour of her human form, making love to her for hours. He’d tasted of her blood, certain he’d been her mate. While he’d never communicated with her telepathically or completed the bond, Quintus had absorbed her vibrant energy, immersed in their special connection.

When his master discovered he had fallen in love with his beautiful Chinese lover, he’d kidnapped and raped her. Mao’s bloody screams had echoed into the night. Quintus had attempted to save her but was too late. By the time he reached them, he watched in horror as his master hoisted her limp body into the Daduhejinkou Grand Canyon. A fledgling vampire, his ability to materialize on a whim hadn’t been cultivated, so he’d been helpless to save her. Swearing retribution, Quintus had waited patiently, growing more powerful through the centuries, until the day he’d been strong enough to destroy Baxter. But his master’s death had never relieved the crushing grief that haunted him.

The notion that he’d ever love again had been a dream he’d never anticipated. Instead, he’d filled his time amassing his wealth as a mercenary, killing for money and his enemies alike, bedding women on a whim. He’d deliberately remained elusive within the vampire hierarchy, preferring to wield his great powers as he saw fit.

Quintus glanced again to the dragon-like statue in his hands, and his thoughts drifted back to Gabriella. It had been much more likely he’d bond with a human. But like the rarity of lightning striking twice, another shifter had connected with him. The pure energy connection he’d shared with Gabriella had taken him by surprise. But moreover, when he’d bitten into her soft flesh, his mind had blended with hers, experiencing her memories, her emotions, her hopes.

For the first time in over a thousand years, he’d been terrified. Losing Mao had broken him. Gabriella had burst into his life like a bright star, shining like the sun. When he’d bitten her, he’d known there was a possibility he was her mate. But now all had changed. The bond had begun. There was no turning back, except to refuse her his blood, to deny the completion.

Both guilt and fear rushed through his thoughts. He’d loved Mao, and she’d died a horrific death because of him. While Baxter was long dead, a few of his legacies remained hidden in the far corners of the world. Like dormant volcanoes, they could reignite their fire, turning them deadly with the news of his new bonding. If Gabriella died because of him, he’d never forgive himself.

The creak of the wooden floor sounded, and Quintus’ eyes flashed to the entryway. Viktor stood dressed in a tuxedo, tapping his fingertips on the doorjamb.

“You think too hard, brother,” he commented as he stepped into the office.

“This has been a good life, si?” Quintus set the figurine onto his desk. “You’re dressed already?”

“Why yes. I’m not going to be late to this shindig. The witches be bitchin’. Vampires…well…they suck.” He gave a laugh, seemingly fake.

“A few thousand years on this planet and you still have the worst jokes. But looking stylish as always.” Quintus chuckled and leaned backwards in his chair, resting his head and closing his eyes. “There were times I’d wish I’d died. If it weren’t for my desire for revenge…”

“Baxter. He haunts you tonight.” Viktor glanced to the bottle of cognac. “1858 Cuvee Léonie?”

“Mao.” Quintus sighed. “He killed her for no reason.”

“Jesus Christ. All these years…” Viktor threw himself down onto a white leather chair. “You know it wasn’t your fault.”

“I didn’t say…”

“He was a bastard, Quint.”

“If it were only that…” Quintus opened his eyes, his energy drained from reflecting on her death.