Young Vampires in France
-
a novel by Mardi
Ballou
Here’s an excerpt.
Enjoy!
The Comte prided himself on being a civilized man, one who had mastered
his basic instincts and needs. He pushed back the tide, reminding himself
he would feed, and gloriously, but not yet. Only at the precise moment when
Monique pulled him to her, bared her neck for the ecstasy à deux and
surrendered her magnificent iciness to his consuming warmth would he assuage
his raging appetite.
She licked him under his neck, and he shivered at the rasp of her fangs.
She wanted him too, as much as he wanted her, and the realization nearly took
his breath away.
“Pas encore,” he whispered, telling her to hold off though every cell of
his being cried out for satisfaction.
Drawing on all his reserves of strength, he slowly rocked against her, savoring
the delicious friction of her silken skin on his cock. Wherever she touched
him, his skin heated in response. He wanted to make love to her with his entire
being, with all he was or could ever be. He challenged himself to move with
superhuman slowness, an exercise in the patience he valued but possessed
little of.
Her breasts mocked him, challenged him to claim each. He engulfed one nipple
with his mouth, licking, sucking, nibbling. At the touch of his tongue on
the pebbled flesh, he felt the surge of her response to him, and his cock
extended toward her. Ah, he could devour her with total pleasure. As he moved
his mouth, she made little mewling sounds, her head turning from side to side,
her eyes gleaming emerald fire. He alternated between her breasts, kissing
one while he fondled the other. Would that he could spend a whole night savoring
these delights. But she jammed his thigh between her legs and rubbed there
with her hot, wet pussy. Her clit throbbed against his thigh, spurring him
on with searing bursts of fire.
The Comte could no longer tarry, not when his woman needed him, not when
he’d die if he didn’t have her. As gently as he could, but rough with haste
and need, he pushed her onto her back. As they moved together, she clung to
his thigh like she would never let go. Ah, she passionately wanted him, and
tonight she was finally lowering her veil enough to let him see. He could
no longer resist.
When he extricated his thigh from between her legs, she sighed and arched
her hips. She needed to be filled there. He fingered her pale pink folds,
his thumb stroking her clit while he dipped his fingers into her hot opening.
“Mmm.” Monique, eyes now closed, licked her lips and thrust her hips.
Oh yes, she was ready for him—and he, past ready for her, couldn’t wait
another moment. His cock huge, he plunged deep into her and lost himself
in pleasure. Her heat and warmth surrounded him, drawing him farther in.
“You are incredible, mon amour. Amazing. Without peer,” he whispered.
Monique clutched his ass, holding him tight against her as she arched her
hips sinuously up and down and drew him to her most intimate core. “And you,
mon amour. Never before have I been with a man who—”
He cut off her words with a kiss. Her hot, wet pussy swallowed his cock,
and, gritting his teeth, he forced himself to continue moving slowly. She
gripped him, exercising the muscles of her tight sheath so that she caressed
him all along his shaft. He felt himself pulse and, unbelievably, grow harder
and larger yet within her.
Intense delectation took hold of him, swirling out from his cock to every
part of him. Only with her, only with her did he experience the icy-hot peak
of perfection. No longer could he wait to complete their joining. “I must
take you into me,” he whispered.
©
2006 Mardi Ballou
