I’m a generous woman by nature so not only am I going to give you one of my favourite excerpts from the first novel in my Point Vamp series, I’m going to give you a free read too. Nice huh?
So firstly, Let me introduce you to The Point book one in the Point Vamp series. The club the book is named after is a unique place for vampires and humans to interact safely. The sign over the door says ‘The Point, Pleasure to the last Drop’ and Vampires who frequent the bar know a trick. Blood taking from a climaxing human is more satisfying. In just the count to ten they can have enough to sate their appetite without killing. Hugh, is the founder and owner of the bar and in this snippet has rescued a young lady who slipped and injured her ankle during a storm. He’s helped her out of her clothes and is trying to get her into something drier.
Hugh is twenty eight. He has been twenty eight for nearly one hundred years. Hugh is a vampire. He owns a club called The Point and he pays girls to have sex with him. He then counts to ten as he sucks their blood to semi-satisfy his lust.
Elizabeth is a doctor, she loves her job but likes to escape into the countryside now and then. When she twists her ankle Hugh comes to her aid. He carries her curvy form all the way back to his home. He takes care of her ankle and the rest of her body too but he goes too far and sucks her perfectly intoxicating blood.
How can these two lovers have any kind of relationship? They don’t know, only time will reveal the answers.
“Erm, yes, I think I could.” Elizabeth was far too caught up in the fact that she stood naked on one foot in front of a man she didn’t even know to really answer any question competently. “Just please do it quickly. I feel ridiculous standing here in the nude.”
“Certainly, certainly,” Hugh replied then stepped away from her. He watched her for a moment as she wobbled, and when he was satisfied she was balanced, he walked away. “This will be the first time I rush to get a beautiful girl back into some clothes,” he chuckled, and Elizabeth joined in.
“Well, I’m not so much of a beauty. I’ll look better with those clothes on. If they’ll even fit.”
“I respectfully disagree,” he said, lifting the chair and carrying it over to her. “If I were a painter, I would have you pose for me and I would capture your attractiveness on canvas.”
Elizabeth had never received such a compliment, and she really wasn’t sure how to respond to it, so she just kept quiet. Hugh placed the chair in front of her and pulled the dress off its back.
“Here, you can hold on to this now,” he said, “whilst I help you into the dress.” “I really don’t think it will fit. My waist isn’t that sculptured.”
“You will fit,” he said and set the dress down over the chair seat. He still held a garment in his hand. “I will fit you into this first then I will put the dress on you.”
“Oh, right, a corset.” She was completely bemused by the situation now. It was so out of the ordinary she had given up on trying to make any sense of it.
Hugh walked around behind her, and she found her anxiety all the worse. She had to lean forward a little to hold on to the chair with her breasts hanging free, which was embarrassing enough, but she knew from the back he would see her enormous arse. Even though he’d said she was beautiful, she doubted he would think so from behind. Chris, the only guy she’d ever gotten sexual with, said her bum was horrible, that it was too fleshy and too big. He wouldn’t touch it. But then he’d barely touched anything else either. She found out later he was only going out with her on a stupid dare anyway. He was seeing if he could shag all the girls in the class, but he had to do it more than once to count. They’d done it twice. In total, the experiences lasted fifteen minutes.
Elizabeth was jolted back to reality when Hugh’s cold hands brushed against her back. He pulled the corset tighter, and Elizabeth felt it wrapping around her breasts.
“Can you stand up straight a moment?” he asked, and she did so. Hugh’s hand stayed at her back until she had balanced. It surprised her how comforting his touch was.
“I just need to make sure you’re comfortable,” Hugh said close her ear. She licked her lips.
“Sure,” she replied.
He walked round and squeezed in front of her, his back against the chair. He pulled at the stiff material then with his gentle, chilling fingers, he scooped up her breasts and settled them properly in the confines of the corset. She bit her lip to hold in a moan of delight and hoped he could not see how hard her nipples were.
“Done,” he said and smiled at her. Their faces were so close that she couldn’t help looking up at his lips. They curled into a little smile, and she knew she only had to lean forward and they would kiss. She leant forward, not out of choice but because she had lost concentration. Hugh’s hands came up to her sides to steady her body, and his lips came down to agitate her spirit.
She gasped. His lips were as icy as his hands, and they were demanding. They undulated and coaxed the kiss from her own lips. Her mind spun as her body reacted. Her hands ran up and down the front of his body. They slipped under the heavy material of his jacket then traced his hard torso through the silken material of his shirt.
He pulled away suddenly. She almost fell, but he kept her steady, his hands braced around her waist.
“Now, you need fastening.” He seemed shaken up too. He spoke fast, and his hands shook at her waist as he slipped behind her, sliding his hands around her to keep her steadied.
“Yes, fastening, yes,” she said. She made no sense and realised it, but she could still feel the pressure of his lips against hers and her fingertips tingled. She was completely undone, and she didn’t mean just the corset.
“You should feel a gentle constriction, Elizabeth. If it feels too tight, please tell me.”
She might have been mistaken, but she was sure Hugh’s hands shook as they tweaked and twiddled strings.
The two sides gradually started to pull farther around, and Elizabeth started to feel the constriction. As he pulled tighter, Hugh got closer until he stood behind her with his trouser front pressed into the flesh of her buttocks. She felt him through the thick material of his pants. He was hard, really hard. She pushed back her hips and was rewarded with a strangled, gasping groan. Now, she was sure of it. He was as aroused as she was.
“Right,” he said. His hands rested on her hips. “I think you’re secure now. Stand up straight against me so I can check.” She pushed up and wobbled a little, but Hugh’s hands stopped her from tumbling over. “How does that feel?”
“Okay,” she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Not too tight.”
He ran his hands around her waist, until his hands cupped her breasts through the material.
“Nothing bites or digs in?” His chin rested on her shoulder, and she knew he was looking down into her impressive cleavage.
“No,” she said then he pressed his lips to her neck, and she moaned as her leg nearly buckled under her. “It feels remarkably good.”
“That’s good,” he whispered. His lips leant on her flesh as if he were undecided what to do next. “It feels good.” He ran his fingers down her sides and to the very edge of the corset and traced along the border between skin and clothing. She shivered as his touch slipped lower and wondered what he was doing. She wanted to move his hand away, not because she wasn’t enjoying it but because she was afraid that he would be turned off by what he felt. She did nothing to stop him though. She was hypnotised by the gently undulating kisses on one spot of her exposed neck, and she let him run his fingers over her freely. He explored her hip and thigh. Smoothly, he moved inward, and she knew her flesh was slick as she was aroused to a level she had not experienced before.
He stroked down first, she was disappointed until the upsweep carried his fingers to the very edge of her pussy and his fingers curled and teased her pubic hairs.
Delicately, he pressed in, felt her swollen lips and insinuated his finger between them.
She couldn’t think. She knew that something about this was wrong, very wrong, and she shouldn’t be letting it happen, but as Hugh ran his fingertip over her clit, she forgot everything but the pleasure radiating up through her body. He played her like a professional. He knew just where to touch and how hard. He dipped his finger inside her, scooped up more of her fresh juice and trailed it back up to her clit to aid his exploration. As he rubbed, she moaned. She was blown away by the eroticism. Her body zinged with sexual pleasure in a way she had never dreamed existed. He was so in tune with what she needed that, within a matter of moments, she was quivering and panting. She was on the brink of the most outstanding orgasm of her life when she wobbled and put down her right foot. The pain exploded, and she yelped.
Hugh pulled his fingers from between her thighs and helped to steady her once more. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you standing so long.”
“No, really, don’t apologise. I was enjoying it,” she said then blushed. She was sure good girls didn’t admit such things, but then good girls didn’t let cold, dark strangers finger them to the brink of orgasm, either.
“So was I. Let’s get you comfortable.”
I have something very interesting to write to you about. Last night I couldn’t sleep so I took you, a candle and a pen out into the garden. I got caught up in the colours of the dark so didn’t write a word.
I felt safe. I was in my own garden with the huge bushes that surround it and I had my mobile phone in my pocket just in case. I was not at all prepared therefore for the visit of a man. He didn’t arrive subtly cloaked in shadows he strode purposefully into the light directly in front of me. I scrabbled to my feet, the flight or fight instinct had already kicked in.
“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my garden?” I asked in a commanding voice. Least that’s what it sounded like in my head. In the air it sounded more like the squeaking hinges of a rusty gate.
“I am me,” he said, quite matter of factly. “I was passing and I saw you.”
“Well, carry on passing, this is private property.” He took a step towards me. I pulled my phone from my pocket and waved it in front of him. ”I’ll ring the police!” I threatened but before I could get the device to my ear he’d snatched it and threw it to the ground. Journal, I did internally berate myself for being so stupid at that point. I also thought I was about to die.
“You smell so sweet.” His voice was husky and vibrant. Although I was feared half to death I couldn’t help but feel the frisson of excitement rise up my spine in response to his words and his encroachment on my personal space. I couldn’t step back, a tree was there. I couldn’t dart around him because, well you know I’m not made to dart. I’m made for comfort, not speed.
“You’re not allowed here,” I did at least attempt to keep my nerve to the end, journal, I did try to be brave. He took no notice of me and continued to walk closer until his chest touched mine.
“And you feel so soft,” his tone was like melted chocolate, tempting, alluring and oh so bad for me. I felt as if I was under a spell, as if he hypnotised me. My limbs were heavy, my heart pounded but I couldn’t move no matter how much I thought about escape. I know you want to know what he looked like, so do I in fact. I’m pretty certain he was tall and willowy and that he was muscled in that subtle way that screams of real work, not gym-puffed exercise. But I didn’t see his face. He was surrounded by shadows as if he carried them with him as a shield.
His lips felt plump and juicy but they were cold and it took some kissing for them to even warm slightly. Yes, dear journal, he kissed me and I let him. I don’t know why, I cannot explain why in any way that makes sense. I just had to let him kiss me. His hand held the top of my arm, he pushed his lithe, magnificent body against me and as soon as his lips touched mine my mind went blank.
My heart beat hard and fast but it was fueled by lust not fear. His hands travelled over my curves and I eagerly pushed myself into his embrace. His fingers squeezed my plump breasts through the thin barrier of my t-shirt and plain everyday kind of bra. His fingers slid down my side, over my hip and into the waistband of my trousers. Yes, I should have stopped him. I should have slapped the dangerous stranger who was assaulting me but I didn’t want to. I enjoyed it. My blood burned with a need so visceral and I moaned when he found my sticky wet slit. I gasped with unabashed joy when he rubbed my clit. A stranger, a man I’ve never spoken to before, Journal. A guy who’d walked into my life only moments before was rubbing me in a very intimate way and I loved it. I felt like my backbone had turned to liquid. It was just his hardness that held me upright. His lips hadn’t once left mine. I was dizzy with lust, desperate for more kisses, desperate for more of him. I couldn’t make my hands move, they seemed stuck around his waist. I held him against me, I didin’t push him away. I couldn’t.
He finger-fucked me slowly as he kissed me passionately. He was quiet, I don’t even remember the sound of a ragged breath drawn from his lips. I suppose I was concentrating too much on my own pleasure because he must have breathed He wasn’t just a shadow, he was solid, really solid against me. I just remember the presence of his arm against the tree beside my head and the pleasure-dance of his other hand pressed against my slit, his finger driving me to the very edge of ecstasy. I remember that his lips slipped from mine and kissed down to my neck.
My noises were animalistic. He sucked and licked in the sensitive dip of my neck and as I came he bit down. I don’t know how I could possibly explain the depth of joy and delight that surged through my body as I came, his fingers in me, on, me, stroking me and his teeth clenched in my flesh. It was a violent release that flushed away every last particle of tiredness, doubt and fear and those negative emotions were replaced with a feeling of completeness, of security and of pure satisfaction.
It tickled when he licked where he’d bitten, I giggled and he smiled. I could just see the line of it in the momentary illumination from the moon. His dark eyes glittered and I fell in love then with the man I didn’t know. He pressed his lips gently to mine.
“Thank you,” he whispered and pushed a little piece of paper into my hand. He left and I clung to the tree afraid to stand on my own.
The paper was a business card. On one side it said The Point in stark capitals and on the back it gave an address. I knew I would have to go there. I knew I wanted more of him.
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