The Dark Lord is cursed by the four fates, nympho sprites that rule the world Ziadore--and all the world suffers from their game.
The Dark Lord has a thousand years to find his one true precious, the Queen of Pentacles, who is constantly recycled, reincarnation style, into different bodies. The thing is, they share dreams of a carnal nature, memories of their love before.
She cannot find satiation with other mortals, though she constantly seeks it. He, on the other hand, is doomed to vampirism-and sexual lust that can not find fruition with anyone but her. So, teasing, shared dreams are their only release.
If you like dark, twisted love, a little sexual tension building, and men with overwhelming obsessions… you'll absolutely drool over The Dark Lord.
For just a moment, I allowed myself the pleasure of a caress. Sliding my thumb over the creamy white flesh at the woman’s throat, I felt something stir within me. A lost memory?
Clean, lightly freckled skin, pale and tender, so beautiful, so vibrant, so alive. She arched in my arms, swooning. Her pulse throbbed heavily.
Make no mistake, I desired her as well.
She practically panted in want. Her fingers clung desperately to my shirt front, and through hooded lids, she gasped, “What are you waiting for?”
It is not arrogance to say that she couldn’t resist begging. I am irresistible.
And I cannot resist. My willpower has been taken from me. I am a man driven by unquenchable desires. I knew that I would take her. It was only a matter of minutes.
I savored the scent of flowers that rose gently to my nostrils. She bathed in oiled water. I felt a tickle in the back of my mind. Another woman…oiled water… shared bath. Sin. Ah. Another type of lust.
Shaking my head to clear it, I whispered, “The wait, knowing what is to come, is sometimes better than—”
She cut me off. “Lord, if you don’t take me now, I think I’ll die.” Her body pressed into mine.
The fervency she expressed inflamed me. It was all I could do to warn her. “If I take you now,” I allowed my thumb to trace the vein in her throat, “you will surely die.” Too eager, I knew I wouldn’t leave her until she was finished.
Chuckling. She thought I was teasing.
I licked my lips, drawing her closer. Silky strands of curled brown hair brushed over my wrists, making me pause yet again. So young. So beautiful. Such a shame.
She prodded me with a simple word. “Please!”
Who was I to refuse? I licked my lips again, touching my tongue to her neck.
I took my time. There was no reason to hurry. The night had just begun. I wasn’t desperate… yet.
But she was. Her fingers crept up around my neck, tracing through the hair at my nape, pressuring me into taking further liberties.
I nuzzled her. My lids dropped, veiling my gaze, and I opened my mouth. My lips skidded across the white flesh, again my tongue… tasted.
It is at that point that I shut my emotions off.
My fangs, sharp instruments of death, bit into her skin. She squirmed, clawed a little. Steel-banded arms held her. One hand beneath her head, the other around her back, I sucked greedily.
She could not defend herself. And truth be told, after the initial puncture, she didn’t want to. I have the ability to take lifeblood so quickly that swooning weakness comes almost instantly. My victims faint with a smile on their face, and I finish my business without them realizing what I have done...usually.