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Bad: Six Sexy Gents Unmasked Page 5


  Tonight, however, I was not in the fucking mood for this bullshit. Schmoozing with investors like I gave a shit. Exchanging anecdotes about the women we’d fucked. Being human.

  Darryl Winer was here tonight. He was a small man with hair the same color as the woman I’d drained. The only major difference between the two of them was that he was here to open a large casino down the road – and the woman had been on her honeymoon.

  Winer talked a whole damn lot during the personal tour of my hotel that I was generous enough to give him. I was tempted to shut him up permanently in a painful way, especially when the man mentioned his wife.

  “How about you, Andrei? You got any special lady in your life?” he wanted to know, as we made our way to the bank of elevators that would take us downstairs to my casino.

  “How about you shut the fuck up before I break your fucking neck?”

  He looked back at me, blinking repeatedly. Then, as the elevator door opened, he let out a bark of raucous laughter, as if I’d just told an unbelievably funny joke.

  I was losing my fucking touch. Demon lord? More like court jester.

  By the time Winer and I made it to the crowded casino, I knew that his wife was called Cassandra, that they’d been having marital problems, and that he had a friend staying in my establishment. I had to physically restrain myself to keep from throttling this man.

  “Andrei,” my puppets greeted once Winer and I got to a table in the VIP section of the casino. It was a fascinating thing to have these men under my thumb. In this world, they were powerful, ruthless billionaires. And I fucking owned them.

  “Mr. Winer,” they added, almost as an afterthought.

  The place was brightly lit, made up of white leather sofas and glass side tables. It was really just an area of the casino kept separate from the madness of the rest of this place. Most of the humans around me had auras the color of lush, tropical forests. Clouds of green, everywhere. The color of greed. There was a good measure of red amidst these green clouds. There always was. Sex and money made the world go round, after all, and to survive, I needed both.

  “Gentlemen,” I grunted, taking my seat. From where I sat, I had a good view of the bar. I could use a drink. Maybe two.

  Winer seamlessly began an arbitrary conversation with the men around him, sending them into fits of laughter. One of the Kamenev girls brought a tray of drinks and, with a polite smile of thanks, Winer tipped her handsomely.

  Leaning back in my seat with an arm thrown around the back of the couch, I observed this little man. His aura was blue. And fucking white. Not even a hint of red, and the server he’d just tipped had her tits almost spilling out of her top.

  I concluded that Darryl Winer must be a fucking saint and this simply made my top lip curl with disgust.

  Now this… this would be a challenge. Not to fuck Darryl – because that would be simple. Even the purest of humans were susceptible to an incubus’ charm. No, it would be a challenge to get him to sell his soul to me.

  The price? Well, I could make his problems with the wife disappear. Simple. He just had to bite. If he loved her as much as he seemed to, he’d want the happily ever after I could promise him.

  My cock hardened at the prospect of this challenge. Thick and excited, it pressed against the crotch of my denim, wanting to get free. I was tempted to get the other men to fuck off and leave Winer and me alone. The idea of doing this here, surrounded by all these people, left me throbbing. Beside me, Winer was telling yet another joke. Intent on ignoring him, I let my eyes wander once more.

  My phone vibrated with a message, yet another one of the trappings of my human existence. I wouldn’t be able to function without an iPhone and this never failed to piss me off. I did pretty well without technology in my own realm. In this realm, Selene had to resort to text messages to inform me of body disposal.

  “Everything OK?” Winer’s voice was laced with concern.

  “Everything is fine,” I muttered, putting my phone away.

  The minute I did, my head snapped up as though compelled to, and I found myself drawn to a raven-haired woman sitting at one of the roulette tables. It was easy to see why I looked. Her eyes, green as the aura of greed, were already burning a fucking hole into my skin. So I stared back at her.

  Her curly hair was put up in some kind of bun, making her face seem heart-shaped and child-like. Briefly, I wondered what her pink, plump lips would feel like as they parted for my cock to pass between them. Since she was still seated, I wondered if she was tall, with legs long enough to wrap around my waist as I pumped into her, or if she was short and delicate. I wondered if her light green eyes darkened to the color of emeralds when she was lost in the carnal pleasures that only I could really give her.

  Her curvaceous body was poured into a tight black dress that put her ample cleavage in full view, even from where I was seated. I could make out her nipples pushing against the thin fabric and my cock swelled to an almost painful size, imagining what color they were. What noises she’d make while I sucked on them.

  She had completely leveled me with an unapologetic stare, checking me out. I chose this body to please the human eye. Humans were, for the most part, aesthetic and superficial creatures and most of them – male and female – wanted to fuck me without my having to seduce them.

  My true form was large and dark, so naturally, I wanted my mortal form to reflect this. My skin was a burnished brown some would be mistaken to think was acquired from being the sun. I wore my dark hair long, often pulled into a ponytail at the base of my skull. I knew that beneath the T-shirt I was wearing, my muscles were bunching, locked tight because I was in a messy fucking state of arousal.

  My eyes – the cold blue of the Atlantic – were all mine. The one aspect of my true essence that I could not change.

  The fact that this woman was eyeing me like I was Evian water in the Sahara, like she was making a conscious choice to mentally undress me… Hunger swallows me whole, sending every inch of my body into a state of awareness.

  I wanted to bury myself inside this woman, to fill her with my seed and to taste her essence. I crave the tight squeeze of her wet cunt, yearned to fuck her to death.

  I had never felt a hunger as intense as this. I burned with it. Quivered with it. It shocked me, how much I wanted this woman, as if there was a rope of physical attraction between us and she was the one pulling me. I fed today. I shouldn’t be this ravenous. And yet, my cock was jumping in my pants and the ache was fast becoming too much to handle.

  She yanked her eyes from mine so abruptly I let out a harsh breath. As if she wrenched away a yard of rope that stretched between us. I was momentarily stunned. She shouldn’t have been able to pull away from me like that. She should’ve been drawn to me, should’ve come to me like I summoned her with words and not with my eyes. She shouldn’t have been sitting on another man’s lap, hunched over now like she wanted to hide from my stare.

  Winer’s voice came to me as if from faraway. “That’s my buddy, Tad. The one I was telling you about.”

  I followed his gaze and find him looking at the heavy-set man currently being utilized as a chair by the woman I’d been eye-fucking moments before.

  “He’s married,” Winer mumbles, “and that isn’t his wife.”

  As if personally affronted, he made his excuses and headed upstairs. With a flick of my hand, I dismissed the remainder of our group. Wordlessly, they left me behind, my unblinking stare remained on the woman I’d decided to feed on tonight. It’d be more than that, I knew. I’d enjoy her body. Maybe even make her come because I actually wanted to.

  And then, when I was satisfied, I’d walk away.

  My lips curved into a dangerous smile as I watched the woman say something to Tad before walking away from him. I decided to give her a decent head start. The chase was always exciting, even if the end result was always absolute submission.

  Selene didn’t know it, but tomorrow morning, she’d probably have another body to di
spose of.

  I intended to lose control.

  THE END

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  About The Author

  Kimber Lee comes from South Africa and commutes to class on an elephant named Bill (not really). She started writing horror stories as a child and now, she writes erotica as an adult. Her favorite kind of hero is exotic and probably has a heavy accent. He's weak when it comes to the heroine and a total badass outside the bedroom. If Kimber Lee could find a surgical way to be permanently joined to her laptop, she would. But until then, she'll continue to be a night owl and write until dawn. When forced into daylight, she enjoys reading scary stories, Indian food and EDM. She dreams of going to Greece or Sweden because... accents. Oh, and the scenery.

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  First Blood

  (Different POV)

  Kaden

  By: Synne Jakobsen

  ©SynneJakobsen2015

  First Blood

  The forest was in complete silence as he rested against an old oak tree. Strong cold wind blew, sending chills throughout his body. Autumn was just a breath away and after that would come winter. He would have to seek refuge before the first snow falls, while the rest of the forest wildlife would journey south and find prosperous grounds for themselves.

  Memories of ancient times still echoed throughout his mind, making his head throb in pain. A low moan escaped his lips as he curled up against the tree, trying to suppress the pressure building up inside of him. Only a few winters ago that very same pressure would’ve taken over him and destroyed everything around him in the blink of an eye. Allowing such a disaster to repeat itself was out of the question, although a part of him yearned for the release it would give him.

  He blamed his restlessness on the horrible memories he’d been having lately. Many of the scenes were so bad that they’d traumatize an ordinary child. But he was far from ordinary, and he’d gotten so accustomed to the memories that he considered them part of his daily life. Even so, they still bothered him. He wasn’t scared of the memories themselves. It was the emotions they invoked in him that he despised.

  A low whistle broke the forest’s silence, and even before he could turn in the direction of the sound, an arrow shot past him and plunged into the trunk of the tree, landing right beside his head. His body reacted faster than his mind. He sprinted into the forest, moving through the familiar terrain with ease. His movements were swift and fluid, as if the ground didn’t even exist beneath him. Once he passed a clearing, unfamiliar scents bombarded his senses like a thunderstorm.

  He growled as someone came up behind him and pinned his body to the ground, restraining his movements completely. He tried to move his head to face his attacker but he failed. His attacker was much too fast and strong for him. He gritted his teeth in protest and felt the rage boil inside him.

  All of a sudden, he heard people whispering around him. Some of them were wondering who he was, while others uttered mocking remarks. He had to bite down his bottom lip to suppress the pressure building up inside of him. For once he felt the temptation of letting it out and using it to eliminate his attackers. But the memories of its past destruction flashed through his mind and reminded him of the terrible cost he had to pay afterwards. Realizing his limited options, he closed his eyes and waited patiently for death to fall upon him.

  “Who is this?” someone spoke up in the midst of the crowd. Judging by the tone, it was safe to assume the voice came from a child of his age.

  The person pinning him down dug his knee deeper into his back, forcing him to answer. He bit his tongue in annoyance before opening his eyes. He saw he child who’d spoken up emerge from the crowd, walking towards him with confidence and a calm demeanor. He stopped only a few inches away from him and sat down before him calmly, as if they were just comrades having a normal conversation.

  “Go to hell!” he spat at the boy, his words coming out with a primal growl.

  The boy only smirked at him, his eyes gleaming red with excitement. He wasn’t certain what to make of that expression, but before he could figure it out, he was pulled off the ground and pushed forward. The boy grabbed his hand gently, as if they were friends, and pulled him along before he could protest. He was too dumbfounded by the gesture to react and seize the moment to escape, but then he doubted if he would’ve gotten far if he did run.

  As they walked, he scanned the crowd that surrounded him. He hadn’t seen such a large pack before, and was amazed at how well everyone seemed to get along with one another. The boy’s smile didn’t waver for a moment. Each time he was caught staring, his gaze was met a brighter smile.

  The boy was rather skinny and frail in physique, but he guessed he must have possessed some sort of superiority in the pack because everyone seemed to look at him with reverence. Maybe he’s the son of the alpha, he thought. He wondered where the alpha was at the moment. Leaders of the pack are usually at present when they discover someone or something unfamiliar. Maybe he’s taking me to his father now.

  There weren’t any females in the pack that he could spot, so he assumed the boy’s mother had died a long time ago, much like his own. Fatality rates of female werewolves were high these days, and those who survived childbirth were said to never be the same ever again.

  Even if the boy looked frail, his grip was as strong as iron and he wondered how much more strength this young wolf was hiding under that thin body. Once they moved further into the forest, a large house came into view and immediately, he was met by a range of pleasant scents. He was surprised he hadn’t picked them up before. The comforting aroma of home cooking was beckoning him. His plan of running off was officially postponed. He hadn’t had a proper meal in weeks, and he thought maybe he could exploit the kindness the boy was showing him. He seemed naïve enough.

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” one of the adults said, slapping him at the back of his head as they passed him.

  A chill ran down his spine, observing the cold gaze of the male. He remembered that he was still surrounded by potential enemies. He felt stupid that he had let his guard down for a moment just because he smelled food. He stood straighter, trying to look as intimidating as he can.

  The boy stopped and glared at the male who slapped him. He stared at the man as if he possessed the power to make the male apologize. Fear crossed the male’s face and he immediately bowed his head in submission before walking ahead.

  Why did he do that?” the boy said, shaking his head in disapproval. He continued walking, but then stopped dead in his tracks again. “I—“

  He realized too late that the boy stopped so he ended up walking right into him. They both cringed in pain as their heads collided but somehow it seemed to lighten both their moods ever so slightly.

  “I’m sorry about that,” the boy said with a kind smile. “They’re just not used to having someone new in the pack.”

  He just nodded. He didn’t know how to respond to the kindness the boy was showing him. He hadn’t experienced anything remotely similar to that in a long time. Some of the adults passed them by, trying to suppress their amused smiles.

  “Let’s forget about this and enjoy dinner. I’m sure you’ll like it. Come on,” the boy said with a smile and he continued walking towards the house.

  The mood of the pack seemed to relax then as they saw the boy walking happily with his newfound friend. But he couldn’t help but notice that there was still a dangerous vibe coming off of them all. There was sadness and pain written in their eyes that they couldn’t hi
de and as they met his gaze, their plastered smiles faded entirely, as if he reminded them of it.

  It was then that he realized the boy was only trying to make the others more comfortable with his presence. He decided to make things easier for him and the boy by allowing himself to relax.

  “I don’t have a name,” he muttered as they walked across the threshold.

  The boy’s jaw dropped at his statement. He was glad he didn’t save that information until the meal because the boy would’ve choked to death in surprise. A smile spread across his face as he saw the boy’s dumbfounded expression.

  “How is that possible?” the boy asked, letting go of his hand.

  He just shrugged and turned his attention on the large hall in front of him. Multiple improvised tables were placed around the room. Most of the pack members had seated themselves on the cold wooden floor, obviously struggling to find a comfortable position. He followed the boy, who seemed to be distraught as he walked further into the hall.

  Another child, a few winters younger than them both, ran over to the boy and said, “What’s wrong Zachary? Did he say something to you?”

  The younger boy was staring at him with an expression he didn’t like and growled. Under any other circumstances he would gladly oblige to the challenge. But unfortunately, he was too hungry and tired to pick a fight with anyone right now. Zachary seemed to be amused by the younger boy’s remark, but he stepped between the two boys, sending them a clear message to lay off each other. However, the youngster didn’t seem to take the hint and bared his teeth.

  “It’s alright Blaine,” Zachary said, trying to calm the younger boy down. “He’s a new friend of ours. No need to be aggressive. Come on, let’s go find our places.” He walked ahead and beckoned them to follow him.