Hunter's Prey Read online

  Shaun cried out when he pulled the shirt above her breasts and jerked off her bra. The straps had dug into her shoulders, leaving stinging areas behind, but his thumbs moving roughly across her nipples blotted out the pain. Losing all caution, she tossed back her head, revealing her neck. At that moment, she wanted Armand to take her lifeblood. The thought should have frightened her, but instead, fed her desire.

  Foster continued pumping against her. Each thrust of his hips excited her swollen flesh, and her pussy was drenched with need. She wouldn’t have expected the act to be so pleasurable.

  She wasn’t the only one receiving pleasure. When Armand shifted slightly to better cup her breasts, his cock pressed into the base of her spine. Her mind filled with images of the three of them lying naked on the bed, with Foster’s length buried deep inside her pussy, while Armand stretched her anus with his penis. Phantom sensations associated with the mental images became almost real. Their grunts and moans added to her enjoyment, forcing her to the brink. Trembling, she cried out as an orgasm claimed her. Foster jerked against her, and Armand continued caressing her nipples, though he moved at a more leisurely pace.

  He leaned forward, his chin resting on Shaun’s shoulder. She was too sated to protest, although common sense was returning, urging her to get away from them.

  “Satisfied, Foster?”

  He shook his head, tousling his brown hair. “After waiting so long, I’m not even close to replete, but I’ve healed. I can make do.”

  Silence filled the area, and Shaun swore she could hear a clock ticking, although there wasn’t one in the room. The tension grew by the second, and she sensed something important was being decided.

  Finally, Armand spoke. “Why deny ourselves? Our guest will do amply to satisfy our appetites.” He squeezed her breasts with enough pressure to bring a mix of pleasure and pain, leaving her gasping. “All of them.”

  After a moment, Foster nodded. “Yes, she’ll do nicely.” His gaze raked over her bare breasts. “The Agency has certainly made some aesthetic changes from the early days. Twenty years ago, you would have been a burly man. His blood would have been sustaining, but the package it came in wouldn’t have had the same appeal.”

  Anger stirred at his appraisal and nonchalant words. “That’s all we are to you, isn’t it? A meal? A quick fix?” She spat at him, and her anger gave her the strength to shrug away from Armand. “I’m just a blood bag, so drain me. Just get it over with and don’t prolong the torture by raping me.”

  Armand laughed. “We haven’t harmed a hair on your head ... yet. Rape is certainly an exaggeration.”

  “No, it isn’t. You’ve been manipulating my mind since the moment I encountered you.” She tilted her head to glare at Armand. “If you don’t kill me now, I swear to you I’m going to find a way to escape, but not before I take your head for my collection.” The outrageous lie should have been difficult to tell, since she had trouble with even minor falsehoods, but rage made it sound convincing.

  His face darkened, and he grasped the base of her neck, tilting back her head. He lunged forward, his teeth grazing her carotid. Shaun closed her eyes, preparing for his teeth to tear into her flesh. Anticipation lengthened the time, until her nerves were screaming. Finally, she opened her eyes again, finding him in exactly the same place.

  “I could take your blood.” His lips tickled the sensitive skin of her neck. “It would be easy, ma belle, but you will last longer if we see to your pleasure along with ours. The sex will mean we have to feed more infrequently.”

  “I’d rather die than let you violate me again.” Panic swept through her when she realized they planned to turn her into their personal sex toy for however long she lasted. Was it true? Could they feed on her pleasure as well as her blood? Unfortunately, her training hadn’t covered that particular topic.

  Was it simply another way for them to torture her? Perhaps it was all a bluff, to get her adrenaline racing, so her blood provided more of a kick when they drank from her.

  Foster reached up to cup one of her breasts, tweaking the nipple. “You will die many times in our arms, chérie, but each death will be petite and pleasurable.” He shared an unreadable look with Armand. “For all of us.”

  He slid out from under her abruptly, gaining his feet. Shaun couldn’t find the strength to resist when Armand pulled her up. She faced Foster, her head bowed, as Armand stood behind her.

  “First, you must clean up. You smell musty from the rain.”

  “Let us see what we have acquired,” Armand said.

  “You don’t own me.” Shaun said the words as forcefully as she could, recognizing them as hollow. She was no match for them and couldn’t escape whatever they chose to do to her. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t fight like hell to delay her fate.

  “Yes, we do. You have belonged to us forever, ma belle.” Armand’s voice had taken on a chill to match the room’s temperature, but his fingers were gentle when they unwound the bun restraining her silver-blonde hair. It fell in tangles past her breasts, and she let the strands shield her face, hoping to hide her humiliation.

  Foster made a sound of appreciation, reaching out to stroke her hair. “When properly attired, you must be a beautiful woman, chérie.”

  She turned her head away when he tried to cup her cheek. “I guess you’ll never know. I didn’t exactly have a chance to pack when you kidnapped me.”

  His laugh was entirely too sexy and full of joy for Shaun’s peace of mind. “Fortunately, this room’s former occupant left many garments.” His expression clouded for just a moment, but when he blinked, he looked carefree again. “Jacqueline had a generous nature. I’m certain she wouldn’t have minded loaning you her wardrobe.”

  Shaun tried to dart away, but Armand’s arms came around her, anchoring her to his chest. “I’m not playing dress-up for you.”

  “Of course not,” said Armand in a soothing tone. “We much prefer to dress you ourselves, petite poupée.”

  High school French lessons allowed her to translate, and she burned with resentment. Little doll. Despite her annoyance, she couldn’t summon the will to break away from him as he herded her into the small bathroom, with Foster just a step ahead of them. As she met her gaze in the mirror, she first saw fear of the unknown. But what disconcerted her was the smoldering excitement banked in her eyes. Surely, she wasn’t really looking forward to whatever perversities they planned to subject her to before the sunrise drove them back to their beds. She wasn’t ready to jump on two necros intent on using her pleasure for their sustenance. It hadn’t been that long since she had a lover.

  Again, she reassured herself they had done something to her making her act this way. She didn’t want the two vampires standing in the tiny room with her, regardless of how her body ached for more fulfillment. Her arousal was an illusion.

  Chapter Three

  Foster picked up a silver-backed brush and ran it through her hair. Shaun tried to pull away, but Armand’s firm hands on her upper arms kept her in place.

  “Kick off your boots, ma belle.”

  Shaun shot Armand’s reflection a defiant glare. “I have a name.”

  “Really?”

  His arched eyebrow suggested amusement, and she gave her name grudgingly, not wanting to entertain him, but also not liking the constant stream of endearments whispered in French -- an entirely too sensual language under the circumstances. “It’s Shaun.”

  A frown flashed across Foster’s face, and he stopped brushing in mid-stroke. “That’s a man name.”

  “My father’s.” She squared her shoulders, daring him to take issue with her being her father’s namesake in lieu of him having no sons. By the time Shaun arrived, the fifth girl of six, he had given up on having a boy and let his daughter carry the name instead.

  Foster returned to his self-appointed task, smoothing the tangles from her hair with the sinfully soft brush. “I meant no offense. You should have a beautiful, feminine name, such as Fleur.”


  Obviously, Armand had grown impatient waiting for her to comply with his command, for he knelt to pull the boots from her feet, doing so less than gently. “This one is about as delicate as a weed, Foster. The masculine moniker suits her.”

  That stung her pride. She could be feminine and delicate, given the appropriate occasion. It was on the tip of her tongue to retort a dress wasn’t suitable for Agency fieldwork, but she bit back the words, having drawn his antagonism each time he received a reminder of her profession. Whatever they planned for her would only be that much worse if one or both were angry with her.

  When her bare feet touched the cool ceramic tile, Shaun shivered. The chill pervaded her bones through the rain. She wondered why neither Armand nor Foster seemed to notice the lower temperature, but assumed it had something to do with their chemistry. A necro’s core body temperature ran at sixty degrees, so why would they notice the temperature of the room, since it was only a few degrees cooler than them?

  Armand’s hands went to the drawstring of her pants, causing her to jump. Reflexively, she slapped his hand. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Undressing you.” He examined her with a bland expression.

  Her throat constricted, making it difficult to speak. “Why?”

  “You stink. A bath is in order.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “We would prefer not to wash your clothes at the same time.”

  “You’re not undressing me.” When he reached again for her waistband, Shaun brought up her knee, driving it into Armand’s chin. With a grunt, he fell away from her, springing to his feet in a graceful leap. The blow would have toppled a human male.

  “Enough.” He practically hissed the word, and his blue eyes darkened with anger as he advanced on her.

  Shooting a desperate look at Foster revealed she would find no help from him. He was a step behind his companion, an intent expression on his face. She backed away as they advanced on her, cursing her inability to meet them with equal strength. When the backs of her knees hit the side of the old-fashioned bathtub, she had to stop. There was nowhere else to go. “What are you going to do?”

  Armand stepped close to her, cupping her chin in his hand. When he exerted pressure, she had no choice but to open her mouth. “Make you more biddable, you infernal ...” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head. When Foster touched his shoulder, he turned to his friend, while still holding Shaun. “You are sure she is worth the trouble?” asked Armand.

  Foster nodded, conviction clear in his stance. “You are too. You’ve seen what I have.”

  A frown of confusion furrowed her brow. “What are you talking about?” The words came out distorted, because of her opened mouth and constricted jaw.

  “Silence.” Armand issued the command in a glacial tone.

  Shaun’s eyes widened with horror as Foster took Armand’s free hand, placing a finger in his mouth. The action was sinister, but also somehow sexual, sending a convulsion of need through her pussy. Foster bit down and blood flowed freely, making her gasp with shock. Armand brought the bleeding digit to her mouth, inciting muted grunts of horror from her. As a drop of blood trickled onto her tongue, she tried to close her mouth, but found it impossible. The last thing she wanted was to be one of them.

  To her surprise, he withdrew his finger, sucking on the wound for a second, until it closed. Then, he bit the finger Foster placed in his mouth, and Foster repeated the experience, with Shaun doing her best to fight. Again, after a single drop of blood touched her tongue, he pulled away, tending to his wound.

  Armand’s gaze locked with hers, and she found it impossible to look away. A swirling vortex of blue sucked her in. She was aware of her muscles slackening, but couldn’t resist the compulsion to relax.

  “Obey.”

  With the simple word, Shaun slumped forward, all fight leaving her. A muted voice in the back of her mind urged her to continue struggling. With a determined effort, she managed to ask, “What have you done?”

  “You are in our thrall,” Foster said. He shrugged. “It is only temporary.”

  In a stupor, Shaun stood passively while Armand stripped off her pants and underwear. Standing naked before them stirred embarrassment, allowing her to summon the ability to cross her arms over her breasts.

  “See how she resists?” Foster sounded proud.

  “It is remarkable.” Armand’s closed expression revealed nothing, until he pulled her arms to her side. Heat radiated from his eyes as his gaze caressed her from head to toe. Feeling stripped bare, she once again tried to cross her arms over her breasts. “Leave them at your sides.” The harsh command had her freezing, although her mind tried to battle his control.

  A half-smile curved his lips, displaying a dimple. “Without the annoying defiance and sharp tongue, you are a magnificent woman, ma belle.” He nodded once, sharply. “Yes, worth the trouble indeed, Foster.”

  “Told you.” He grinned at Shaun before beginning to shed his clothes. Armand did the same, and Shaun’s gaze darted constantly between them. She wanted to feel alarm or fear, but instead, desire spread through her as each inch of their flesh became visible.

  Naked, they were still a study in contrasts. Armand’s olive skin glowed a warm honey shade in the amber light of the bathroom fixture, while Foster’s appeared a light cream color. It didn’t make him look sickly, as she might have expected. Instead, he was peaches and cream sorbet, with her tongue begging for a taste.

  Her gaze slipped lower, until she was examining their cocks. Both men were aroused, but the similarities ended there. Armand wasn’t circumcised, and his penis was long, with several dark veins visible under the olive skin. It jutted a little to the right, making her have to resist the urge to grasp the shaft in her hand and align it straight ahead. A dusting of hair smattered across his balls did nothing to shield them.

  The hair covering Foster’s testicles was more profuse than Armand’s. Still, it did little to obscure his balls, due to the lightness of the brown shade of his pubic hair. He had been circumcised, leaving his slightly shorter, thicker cock with a bulbous purple head that reminded her of a mushroom. Her pussy contracted, aching to have the massive appendage surge inside her.

  She blinked at the thought, her mind clearing. What was she doing? These necros were intent on using her for their pleasure, and she was contemplating participating. If only the training classes had covered this scenario! All she knew was the necros could manipulate the minds of any victim they chose, and sex was the most efficient way of doing so. There had been a few techniques taught to break mind control, but none were working. They weren’t strong enough to fend off the power of the two men before her.

  As Foster moved to the bathtub, turning on the faucets fully, Armand approached her once more. Shaun raised her foot to take a step back before freezing. She wasn’t going to back away from him again. Whatever he wanted to do to her, she would endure it without revealing any weakness.

  His gaze locked with hers for a second time, and his mouth formed a word. “Release.”

  The fog in her head cleared instantly, and she had control of her limbs. It took a second longer to shake off the lingering remnants of arousal so she could move. With an angry growl, she hurled herself at him, hands extended to scratch his face. She got in one rake with her nails before he dragged her writhing body against his, clamping her close to his chest with his cock poking into her stomach.

  “I have yet to force a woman into my bed, Shaun. I will not use the thrall to do so.” He arched his hips, pushing his cock deeper into the softness of her stomach. “You are now free to do whatever you choose, aside from taking a bath. You will have one before we taste you.” He licked her cheek with a teasing flick. “I insist on a clean consort.”

  She jerked back her head, glaring at him. “If I’m really free to act, you won’t be tasting me ... or anything else.” With an exaggerated motion, she swiped at the spot he had licked with the back of her hand. “You disgust me.”

  A low ch
uckle escaped him. “And that’s why the scent of your arousal hangs heavy in the air, why your nipples are hard, and why you came just from dry humping Foster a few minutes ago? Because we disgust you.” His voice lowered to a purr. “I’d love to see what you do when you really hate someone.”

  “That.” She pointed to the scratch on his cheek that was already closed over and starting to disappear. “Come near me again, and I’ll do worse --” She broke off with a cry of outrage when Foster came up behind her, scooping her into his arms without effort to carry her to the tub. She was screeching and fighting him, and the hot water surprised her. Shaun froze for a second, letting the warmth seep into her. It was heavenly, and a sigh of contentment escaped her.

  Foster and Armand knelt on the floor in front of the tub, both armed with natural sponges and a bar of French milled soap waiting to be unwrapped resting on the lip of the tub. The smell of mulberry reached her, and her quickened breath involuntarily revealed a spark of pleasure at the scent. Her favorite. Had they known? She dismissed the thought with a shake of her head. They couldn’t have. It was just a coincidence.

  Foster unwrapped the soap quickly, tossing the expensive tissue paper into the trashcan. With a slow smile that turned the pit of her stomach into a molten volcano, he dipped the sponge into the water, brushing his hand against her thigh. She swallowed at the brief contact, telling herself there hadn’t been time to push him away before his hand left. She hadn’t wanted him to keep touching her. Definitely not -- had she?

  Her mind was clear, and she believed Armand had released her from the thrall. If he honored his words, she only had to endure the bath before having the opportunity to reject them. When they realized she didn’t desire them, they would be forced to leave her alone ... at least sexually. He hadn’t promised not to drain her blood, after all.

  In slow circles, Foster rubbed the bar of soap over the sponge, until a thick lather covered it. As he passed the soap to Armand, he brought the cleanser closer to her. Shaun tensed as it neared her chest, and then gasped with surprise when Foster’s other hand dipped into the tub to splash water across her bared breasts. Her stomach clenched when the rough texture swabbed across a sensitive nipple, and she balled her hands into fists, pressing them against her thighs in an attempt to hide her reaction.