Sasha's Song

For those interested, here's an excerpt, a taste, of my new vampire short story titled Sasha's Song, tagline: The last thing heard on this side of life...


Tight, sinuous, supple bodies entwined; I inhaled his expelled breath, my heartbeat echoed his. Jase's hands slid along my curves, tantalizing sensitive points as they passed. He drew me closer, pressed me tight so that I could smell the ardor pulsing hotly in his blood; he pressed his cheek to mine and groaned in my ear as my hand slid satin smooth over his burgeoned loins. My body responded in kind, heated hunger surged up through my veins, dual appetites for carnal and sanguinary satisfaction.

Ever still the music played, washed over and through us.

I directed our wicked waltz toward the French doors to the right of the foyer. Jase pinioned my body up against the oaken panel, pressing his mouth on mine, his tongue testing the tips of my fangs. He was an eager apprentice, practicing his new skills upon his master. I swooned within his arms, kissed him back fervently. His hand came up my back to tangle in my tresses as one of my hands found hard evidence of his desires and the other found the door knob, and turned. Our bodies tumbled through the entrance and onto a large divan. Jase landed atop me with his hands braced to either side of my shoulders pressed deep into the plush cushions, with his pelvis plied between my thighs.

Jase took on the role of aggressor with consummate ease. I allowed him to guide my body down upon the cushions, where he straddled my hips, one knee buried in the cushions, the other foot braced on the floor for leverage. I watched him watching me, his cheeks flushed and eyes bright, his enjoyment was obvious, although his outcome was clouded. I wanted him badly, I burned with desire, yet even now blood lust gnarled my guts and tainted my sexual thrill.

With one hand upon my chest, bracing me beneath him, he pulled the jersey from his own body and exposed an abdomen rippled with muscle. "Mmmm," I purred, and wrenched away a glove to touch his warm chest. My cool skin tickled him as he twitched a little, and then took hold of my hand, directing my fingertips down the furrow between his abdominal muscles to his beltline. He shivered a little, and smiled.

"Cool hands feel so good," he groaned as I slipped my fingertips beneath the belt to caress the
stiff organ leashed behind his denims. Jase moved his bracing hand behind my neck, gnarling his fingers in my hair as he pulled me up to a sitting position beneath him. "Do not move."

"I wouldn't dream of it," I sighed. I enjoyed being subjected to his prowess.

He made swift work of my gorgeous gown, ripping the cloth in his haste to remove the fabric barrier between us. The dress came up over my head in a rush of amber spice. Jase bunched the fabric in his fists, brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply, eyes closed, before he rose up and tossed the gown into the fireplace. Naked once more, I leaned forward and clawed the pants from his body – clothing was no longer necessary. Nothing was but our heat, our desire – and his blood.