Darker Nights Read online

  Delia was hungry for the big balls she held, for the cock that was lodged inside her. She loved having his penis inside her pussy—oh yes—but she also wanted to suck it in her mouth and taste him properly. But she couldn’t have everything, could she?

  Daniel alone was enough. She was certain that she was in love with him. He turned her on as no man ever had, real or fantasy. Of course, he wasn’t a man. That was perhaps part of the excitement.

  Delia let her head fall back onto the desk as he pushed deeper and deeper. Was there no end to his dick? When she thought she couldn’t take any more, he waited and stroked her clit until she was ready. Another grunt. Another inch. Another hot thrust.

  He was patient, just as he’d cautioned her to be, and the wait was worth it. Finally he was all the way inside her, spreading her pussy as far as it would go, filling her completely.

  Delia reached down to feel where they joined, marveling in the thick girth of him and the cold that poured off his body in waves. The skin all over her body was raised in gooseflesh. Her nipples were as sharp as icicles beneath her blouse. He must have been able to see them poking through, yearning for his touch as the rest of her body craved it.

  So cold. So right. So very right.

  He stared down at her as he tugged and pulled at her clit with his long fingers. Soon her hips could no longer stay still. They jerked and danced to the tune he was calling. Only then did he begin to really fuck her.

  In that moment, nothing else existed. Not the firm, not her career. Not even the desk beneath her.

  She was floating, anchored only by the fat, thick, hard cock pounding her pussy, spreading electric fire through her veins.

  Daniel held onto her hips, guiding her, watching her. He pushed her to the edge of ecstasy then drew back, slowing the pace of his thrusts to a barely moving slide. Then he picked up speed and began that long climb again, fucking her with increasing intensity until she thought the world would shatter around her.

  He picked her up in his arms and pressed her to his chest, his hips slowing long enough to allow the tender movement. Then when she was fully seated on his cock, he started fucking her properly again, pulling her up and down on his dick until her pussy burned with the need to come.

  “Not yet, little Darker,” he muttered into her hair. “Not yet.”

  Somehow, she obeyed. Shuddering with the effort, she fought her climax, bracing herself against Daniel’s strong body so that the friction of him rubbing against her clit was less stimulating.

  Delia nuzzled the curve of his neck. He was so cold that she yearned to warm him up, even knowing that it was impossible.

  He was still fully dressed but his suave air was gone. He gave off a dark, musky smell that was intoxicating. She wanted to lap it up. Experimentally, she opened her mouth on his skin and tasted him.

  Hidden against his neck, she immediately made a face. His skin was bitter, like wine turned to vinegar. Would his cum taste the same way? Ugh.

  Pulling her hair, Daniel pried her away from him. It was his turn now to nuzzle her skin, to taste her with teeth and tongue. She barely felt the prick of his fangs before he was drinking from her, hot open-mouthed draws that left her weak and dizzy. The sudden loss of blood caused a simultaneous heaviness in her pussy, as if the remaining blood was rushing to prolong her pleasure.

  Daniel pressed her against the desk, letting her rest her bottom against it as he fucked her with renewed vigor. His mouth never left her neck and the throbbing vein he’d opened. She could hear him feeding. She could feel it in every nerve, as though his fangs had found a direct line to her cunt.

  When he’d had his fill, Daniel leaned his head back. A string of foreign words left his mouth in a smooth stream. They sounded like a prayer, but vampires were their own gods.

  He thrust quickly and his massive cock swelled even more inside Delia until she could take no more. She thought she might pass out from the pleasure of it.

  “You may come now.” Daniel spoke low and steady, his control completely at odds with his ferocious pace.

  She came in a pulsing wave, ecstasy overwhelming every sense. All that existed was her pussy—and her pussy was on fire. After a prolonged moment, she fell against Daniel’s shoulder, shuddering and gasping.

  He moved more slowly now, dragging his penis inside her convulsing vagina. Ice shot through Delia’s core and she knew he had ejaculated.

  They were lovers that whole summer while Daniel came and went through the office to deal with the particulars of his divorce. She met him there during the daytime. He liked to fuck in front of the open drapes. It seemed to give him a thrill—the thrill of igniting more than Delia’s cunt.

  He fed from her neck, her breasts, even her pussy. That last was an experience she would never forget. It was like dying a little, just as the French said. But she was so sensitized for days afterwards that Daniel never repeated the performance. He preferred to have her more frequently in other ways.

  After the divorce was finalized, her father told her that he’d left the country. She never saw him again.

  Chapter Two

  Present day

  At the end of the day, Henry was in her office, flashing his thousand-watt grin.

  “Delia, doll, can you do me a favor?”

  She barely glanced up from the file she was reviewing. “No.”

  The unequivocal answer did not deter him. “I’ve got to head out if I’m going to catch a lift to Montreal for the weekend. Paolo’s taking us in his private jet. You should see this thing.” Here he segued into a long description of Paolo’s wealth and lifestyle, his enthusiasm only partly dimmed by his obvious jealousy.

  Delia finally lost patience after ten minutes. “Enough, Henry. What’s all this got to do with me? I’ve got my own plans for the weekend, you know.”

  Henry’s smile contracted. “Visiting your dad again? Shit, I’m sorry. I should have asked about him.”

  He paused, giving her the chance to update him, but she failed to comply. Instead she tried to push down the futile anger that filled her. Generations of the Darker family had built this firm and her father had sacrificed his leisure, his marriage and his health on its altar. Delia was the last Darker left and she knew that she wasn’t up to the challenge.

  Everything her ancestors had worked for was slipping away. Once the clientele got word of the true state of her father’s health, they would start deserting. Yet Darker Law was the only one who truly understood and catered to them. Once the firm was gone, something precious and unique would be lost.

  It all fell on her shoulders to continue it. To hold on. To fight the drowning tide. To survive.

  It was all so overwhelming.

  “I’m sorry,” Henry said again, making a pained face.

  Delia was suddenly tired. “What’s the favor you want me to do for you?”

  “I have two clients coming in at six to sign a contract for the sale of their company. Music company. Big dollars involved.”

  “And you’re not going to be there?” Delia wondered. Hardly anything attracted Henry more than dollar signs paired with zeroes—except for the chance to hang around the cool crowd.

  Henry’s shrug was accompanied by a sheepish smile. “They didn’t like me. Thought the deal took too long.”

  “What?” All of her attention was now on him. “What happened? Did they complain?”

  Henry was finding the view out of the window behind her very interesting. “A few times.”

  “About what?”

  He shifted his gaze to his shoes. “About how long it took me to respond to emails. Stuff like that.” He saw the expression on her face. “Hey, I was busy!”

  “We’re always busy,” Delia reminded him.

  “Not all of us,” he said, then quickly added, “I know. It’s a slow season. Summer usually is, but let’s face it, without anyone doing the rainmaking around here, I thought I could step into the breach.”

  Delia covered her eyes with her fingers.
She could see it all perfectly. While Henry was busy socializing and calling it ‘rainmaking’, his existing clients were suffering from his lack of attentiveness.

  She tried to recall the solutions her father had offered in situations such as this.

  “Did you offer them a discount on their bill? Are they willing to try another lawyer from the firm the next time?”

  “They’re already gone,” Henry told her. He made a show of checking his watch. The sunlight filtering through the window made the diamonds on his watch’s face dance. “And I should be gone too if I’m going to catch this plane. So you’ll take the contract meeting for me?”

  At this point, it didn’t look like she had an option.

  “Go,” she told him.

  Yet, once he had her agreement, he hesitated in the doorway. “You know, you could come up and join us for the weekend. It’ll be fun.”

  “Fun,” she repeated, pronouncing the word as if it was foreign.

  He stared at her. “Did you ever have any, doll? University, law school, the firm… Your life has been so linear. You could stand to branch out and take a detour once in a while.”

  Delia thought of the trust account reconciliations awaiting her that weekend and inwardly sighed. The rest of the lawyers didn’t know how much work went on behind the scenes. Meeting with clients and going to court was only the tip of the iceberg. Now that her father was out of commission, Delia and the iceberg were on a collision course.

  “It’ll be a chance to network, pick up some new contacts. Get some clients on board who aren’t thousand-year-old vampires with one-hundred-year-old ideas of how much to pay their lawyers.”

  She stared before asking, the words coming slowly, “You don’t like vampires?”

  Henry shook his fair head. “Not a chance. Give me a good honest demon or old world god any day. At least with them you know why they do what they do. With the vamps, shit, you can’t tell if they love you or hate your guts.” He smiled knowingly. “It’s not like that for you though, is it? You’re like your father. You get off on the vamps. You like that restrained power. You don’t go in for the flash.”

  They’d been called to the bar in the same year and worked together ever since—five years now. It made sense that he knew her as well as he did, yet Delia was uneasy. Henry always gave the impression of noticing—and certainly caring about—nothing other than himself. To hear him sum her up so assuredly shook her own confidence.

  “There’s a history there, I suppose,” he went on. “There usually is. Some ex-boyfriend of yours who liked to chomp on your neck? I don’t know how the human half of those relationships take it. All I want to feed off of is pussy and all I want to have any female feed off of me is c—”

  “I get it!” Delia got to her feet, realizing that the only way she would be able to get rid of him was to physically see him out of her office. “You’ll be late for your plane.”

  Henry looked at her with searching eyes. “You promise you’ll take my meeting?”

  “Yes, yes, I promise.”

  He grinned, stretching his arms over his head in a gesture that exhibited no inclination to hurry. “Good. It’s a private jet anyway. They’ll wait for me.”

  She could either scream at him or laugh. She laughed. That was Henry.

  * * * *

  The six o’clock clients were newly-made immortals. Delia had learned to tell the difference between them and the ancients Henry had complained of.

  The recently turned were impatient, restless and arrogant. They lacked all the subtlety and restraint that made her admire their kind. It took, as far as she could tell, at least a hundred years to acquire that maturity.

  But there was still something to be said for this pair. Their very presence in her office seemed to shrink it to a small box filled with sparks. Any moment now, she expected an explosion.

  Mark Lyons and Caleb Jennings were both tall and attractive but the similarities ended there.

  Mark was a werewolf, as dark as sin with black hair and eyes that gleamed wickedly, no matter what mundane words he was speaking.

  Caleb was only slightly less unsettling, a vamp with piercing light blue eyes and hair that was golden at the top and silvered at the sides. Premature gray, Delia might have guessed if he were human, but the act of turning did strange things to vampires, physically changing them in ways that were just as likely to be invisible as visible.

  She knew too much about vampires, Delia thought, not for the first time.

  She also knew that they excited her.

  Her body quivered in these two males’ presence, sensing danger but also all manner of delicious things. Wild nights under the stars and hot, hard sex on top of silk sheets.

  “Do you want to come to our club?”

  They signed the contract—it had been the work of no more than a few minutes since neither male seemed to have any questions—but they showed no signs of wanting to leave.

  The danger Delia sensed wasn’t an actual physical threat. The law firm was buzzing with activity since so many of their clients did their business under the cover of night. It was a darker danger—a danger to her morals.

  It was Caleb who’d spoken. His voice was like velvet brushed against the grain, rich and rough at the same time.

  “I thought you were in the music business,” Delia stalled.

  Caleb smiled. His teeth, like all vampires she met nowadays, were immaculate. “It’s a music club,” he said.

  “Among other things,” Mark added. He didn’t smile. His eyes did the work for him. Right now they were mocking with challenge. He didn’t believe she would accept the invitation.

  “Don’t let the other things scare you,” Caleb put in. “We cater to diverse tastes.”

  It was those tastes that scared her. Henry was right. She hadn’t seen much of the world, not even of the darker underworld the firm catered to, except second hand from behind her desk.

  She suspected the vampire fetish websites she visited would never prepare her for the live-action versions.

  Her only experience, now well faded, had been with Daniel. And he’d disappeared from her life so suddenly it was as if he’d never existed.

  “Have you ever been with an immortal?” Mark asked suddenly. His bold black eyes swept her up and down, although there was little he could see of the lower half of her, hidden as it was behind the desk.

  As for the top half, she knew what he saw—an unsmiling woman dressed in drab business attire meant to cloak rather than emphasize her curves. Delia was ashamed of her voluptuousness, as she was of the wavy brown hair that never stayed in place and the overlarge brown eyes that always appeared anxious in the mirror.

  “Mark!” Caleb’s eyes softened a little as he looked across the desk at Delia. “Don’t bother with him. We’d just like to show you a fun time tonight…as a thank you for listening to our complaints and making those assurances about next time.”

  “Henry is a very good lawyer,” Delia said, just as much from truth as out of loyalty. She’d carefully avoided criticizing his work while she’d apologized for the several delays in the contract negotiation process. Henry had dropped the ball but it was obvious from the correspondence she’d reviewed that the lawyer on the other side had been dragging his feet as well.

  “He didn’t like us,” Mark said. “Or is it all immortals he doesn’t like?”

  She could see how the pair’s masculinity might have threatened Henry but she couldn’t exactly account for their treatment at his hands.

  “He’s very good with all our clientele,” she insisted.

  “Except he hasn’t been in the business as long as you.”

  Delia smiled slightly. “Henry and I are the same age.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Mark clarified. “I was referring to the longer legacy. I understand that your family’s firm and their clientele have existed for a long time.”

  “Seven generations in this country,” said Delia. “No one knows how long bac
k in the old country, but we have editions of English law in the library that are nearly five hundred years old and the original owner was apparently a Darker.”

  “History,” Caleb said. “You can’t buy that on the open market. That’s why we chose you. There are rival firms who do the same work but not with the same, shall we say, sympathy.”

  “Thank you,” Delia said primly. “That means a great deal to me.”

  “Are there any other Darkers left in the firm?” Mark asked.

  “Just my father and me.” It took her a strong effort to speak evenly.

  “But you’re in charge?” he pressed.

  “I’m in charge,” she said, feeling like an impostor and sincerely hoping that she didn’t sound like one too.

  “Then you should meet some of the people who come to our club,” said Caleb. “They all need lawyers from time to time and they all go to human ones.”

  Delia was amused. “We’re all human here,” she reminded him. Then she remembered the little goddess Vashti in the tax department and the new summer student in litigation…wasn’t he a half-demon of some sort? “Well, most of us are.”

  “You know what I mean,” Caleb said. “You’ve lived with us for a long time. You understand us.”

  The recently turned. They were so easily impressed by their own newfound history.

  “Come on,” Caleb coaxed, his eyes twinkling. “I promise you at least two new clients.”

  Delia glanced at Mark, who’d left all the wheedling to his friend. He didn’t offer a word but his eyes promised more than new clients. They promised…excitement.

  “Okay,” she found herself saying. “I’ll go.”

  * * * *

  “She’s not going to show,” Mark predicted, his hands stuffed deep within his pockets. In spite of his natural hairiness, he stamped his feet against the chilly autumn night. He felt she had to come and yet, at the same time, he was tense that she might not.