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  • Night Hunt Ch. 08

Night Hunt Ch. 08

12

Tyrus' mind had been preoccupied. He'd been thinking about the task that the sub-council had set for him. He wasn't surprised that there were rebels going against the Governance. Resentment against their laws was common, and some of the younger ones simply did not understand the delicate balance that allowed predators to coexist with their prey. It wasn't going to be easy, and he should be making preparations for the journey.

At the same time, he was also bothered, and intrigued by the revelation of Anya's cloaking spell. Who would go to such lengths to hide her? Why would they need to hide her true nature? After everything that had happened, and all the guilt that he had placed on himself for taking her away from her human life, it turned out that she was from his world after all.

He could only guess at what she could possibly be. Nothing that he had ever encountered seemed to fit. She tasted and smelled human. But then again, that could have been the spell.

What confused him was that his blood and venom affected her as if she were human too. He didn't know if a spell could hide someone's nature to that extent. How could she have broken Maarav's mind-hold on her but been so easily overpowered by his strength? It was without question that she still needed protecting, even if she proved more resilient than she appeared on the outside.

And then he had marked her.

When the thought of claiming her as a slave had first come to him a few days ago, he hadn't taken it seriously, even after he'd realised that she met the criteria for him to take her. It simply went against what he believed in, especially after his past with Satine. He had never taken a slave since becoming a vampire.

Anya's response had stunned him. She wanted him. He still couldn't believe it. He had barely processed what she had said when she'd taken the glass and drank everything. He'd never dared dream that she could want a monster like him. She didn't know even half of the things that he had done. He still had the image of her shrinking away from him, and the pain of her terror when she saw his true face. He shook his head.

She should be running from him by now. Instead, she was standing in front of him now, the empty glass in her hands. Even though Tyrus knew what his blood would do to Anya, he wasn't prepared for the effect that she would have on him.

The hint of her arousal that he had picked up earlier was now hitting him at full force. No doubt she was wet and ready for him. Her scent filled his nostrils, triggering his own arousal.

He felt his thoughts take a backseat to what was happening in front of him.

Anya gazed at him through her long lashes, running her tongue over her lips. The move was... sexy. With a glint in her eye, she slowly peeled off her dress, drawing his full attention. Black lace dropped to the floor, revealing a skimpy matching set of a black satin bra, and panties.

Screw it. The rebels and the subcouncil could definitely wait.

Tyrus felt his teeth lengthening into fangs, crowding his mouth. His predator was rising. And so was something else.

He stared greedily at her curves. Her full breasts were pushed up provocatively by her form-fitting bra. Creamy mounds of flesh threatened to spill over the edge of their satin constraints. She had a flat, narrow waist that expanded into full hips. His eyes travelled downward and he felt a surge in his groin. Her cunt was barely hidden by the tiny strip of cloth that she wore.

Her delicious scent, now carrying the mark of his blood, rolled towards him in waves. Even though he didn't regard her as his slave, the scent of his possession was really turning him on. It overwhelmed his senses, causing him to draw a sharp breath.

She pressed her body against his, practically purring as he wrapped his arms around her. He felt her tug at his shirt until the hem came apart from his jeans. Her forwardness was so different from the Anya he had first met a week ago.

Tyrus hesitated. He knew that the change in her was due to his blood. He wondered if he should have given her more time to process what was going on. Although he had heard her words, he still found them hard to believe. It had all happened so quickly. The noble thing would be to wait out the effects of his blood, refuse her advances, and talk to her again when she was sober, when the worst of the effects wore off.

Small hands slid under his jeans and groped at his hardness, making him lose all coherent thought.

His demon coaxed him to forget his doubt, telling him that this was the right thing to do. It definitely felt right, holding her in his arms. For two centuries he had taken everything he wanted, and he had never wanted anything as badly as this. Forget nobility. He let himself go, allowing his demon to take over.

Anya's fingers had proceeded to pull on his shirt buttons, nearly ripping the shirt fabric. Her pretty features twisted into a frown of frustration as she tried to undo the buttons as fast as she could.

Stifling a chuckle, he helped her remove his clothing, following her eager hands as they worked on each article and pushed them, one by one, onto the floor.

He reached around her back. With a quick flick of his fingers, her bra came undone. It dropped to the floor, releasing her gorgeous, perky, full breasts. Pink erect nipples greeted him. They were nothing short of perfection. He lifted her easily and carried her to the sofa, placing her on his lap. Gently, he took each nipple into his mouth and sucked them, occasionally stopping to flick his tongue over the sensitive tips.

She went wild at his efforts, grinding against his crotch and pulling her panties to one side, trying to slip his thick rigid cock into her.

"Slow down, Anya. Enjoy the ride," he grunted through his fangs.

He had waited too long for this to rush through it now. He gently held her by the hips and pushed her aside, but not before dipping a finger into her pussy. He felt her slickness as he traced a line slowly upwards along her cleft to the little nub beneath the hood of her lips... So wet.

"You're much too delicious to wait, Tyrus," she replied breathily, gasping from his touch.

Anya climbed back onto his lap, straddling him. Her lips trailed little kisses along his jaw and neck, slowly working her way down his body.

"Not... yet," he groaned, though enjoying every soft peck that landed on his shoulders and chest.

Gently, Tyrus placed his fingers under her chin and lifted her face to him. He leaned in close, but stopped just before their lips touched, pressing his forehead to hers. They were both panting from the anticipation. He felt the warmth of her breath mingling with his as he closed his eyes, listening to the quickened rate of her pulse. The scent of his mark was intoxicating.

"Anya, what are you doing to me," he whispered huskily.

He closed the gap between them and covered her mouth with his. He explored her mouth, pushing roughly past her lips with his tongue. She opened up for him, pushing back with her own eager tongue, deepening the kiss. His undead heart thudded hard. Her fingers tangled in his hair as his hands roved the smooth skin of her bare back.

He broke off the kiss to press his lips along her cheek to her ear, aiming for her neck. She moaned with each contact, low and sexy. His nostrils flared when the scent of dried blood reached him. He had forgotten about her wound from the fledgling vampire's attack, covered by her hair.

Something was strange, though. Tyrus froze.

What the fuck?

He pressed his fingers to the wound. Anya's eyes flew up to meet his in surprise. There was no pain. The wound had healed over. Yet another little mystery.

"Anya... Has this ever happened before?" He asked.

She shook her head in shock, "I can't recall ever getting hurt before. I've never had any scrapes, or cuts, or bruises. I always thought I was just lucky. I guess, I've always managed to stay out of trouble somehow, so I never questioned it."

He ran his thumb lightly over her unbroken skin. He knew that the wound had been a bad one. It hadn't started to heal immediately, the way that his own body could. Still, it was good to know that yet again, she wasn't as vulnerable as she appeared.

"Sooner or later, we're going to need to figure out what you are."

"We won't learn anything new tonight," she said firmly.

"Besides," she continued, a mischievous tinge creeping into her tone, "there are other things I would rather do right now."

She reminded him by pressing her body against his, leaning into him to nibble on his earlobe.

Tyrus could only groan in agreement as his cock hardened again. He didn't think he'd ever been this easily aroused before. His demon growled with anticipation. They resumed their kissing, beginning slowly at first, then with an urgency as their need grew. His hands roamed her body again, reaching up to thumb her nipples.

Anya rocked her hips against him, trying once more to coax him into her. He grinned and shook his head. He had other plans for her. Without warning, he flipped her over onto her back. She tried to push up off the sofa to straddle him again, but he held her down by her waist without any effort.

"Come on Tyrus," she protested impatiently.

"Let me taste you first..." He said, unable to keep the lust out of his voice.

His gaze fell on the scrap of cloth covering her pussy. It was already soaked through with her delightful juices. Impulsively, he reached with his fingers and ripped the fabric off, finally getting rid of the last piece of clothing between them. Her pussy was now bared to him, glistening with her slick juices and swollen with arousal.

Smiling through his fangs, he lowered his head and ran his tongue over the outer edges of her moist folds. She sighed happily as he moved inwards to her centre, making sure that he tasted every part of her most sensitive area along the way. Her thighs tensed as his tongue stroked leisurely at her sex. He relished in the taste of her. He felt her squirm in pleasure as he delved his tongue into her core, seeking for more.

"Mmmm- Fuck, don't stop... Tyrus you feel amazing," She gasped.

Moving his hands to cup her ass, he brought his attention to her clitoris. He flicked his tongue tip repeatedly over it, tracing different shapes each time. Her moans grew louder as she bucked against him, her back arching. He knew she was on the edge. He slipped his finger into her, stroking upwards in time to his tongue. As her body continued to tense, he sucked on the little bud, still keeping pace with the strokes of his finger.

It only took a minute. She came apart, her entire body shuddering against his hand and mouth as she cried out in wave after wave of ecstasy.

With every cry, his desire to be inside her intensified, until he could wait no longer. He positioned himself over her, lining up the head of his cock against the slickness of her pussy. She was still panting hard, her eyes unfocused from the intensity of her orgasm. She looked so beautiful, flushed and naked on her back.

Without waiting for her to calm down, he plunged deep into her, relishing in her gasp of pleasure.

"Yeesss..." He hissed, heat pooling in his groin. His demon swelled as he claimed her.

He began thrusting, moving his entire length in and out of her pussy at his own deliberate pace. She felt so good, so tight. She grabbed at his back, digging her fingers into his skin as he quickened his pace, her hips rocking hard against him.

He spread her legs further, pushing them up and over his shoulders, seeking deeper access into her core. He was merciless, pounding into her exactly how he liked it. She rocked her body in time to his thrusts, matching every move. He lost himself in her body, her scent, their rhythm... his own moans of pleasure mixing with hers.

Her eyes met his, eyelids half-lowered, filled with lust and excitement. He wondered what she would do if the control was hers. In one swift motion, he sat up on the sofa and re-arranged her on his lap, facing away from him, allowing her free reign to do as she pleased. She knew exactly what he wanted. Placing her knees on either side of his thighs, she guided him into her again. She began rocking her hips in a seductive rhythm, her motions carving out repeated figure eights against him.

He enjoyed the sight of her ass as she rode him, and the view of his cock pistoning in and out of her pussy. His hands roved her body, moving over her stomach and fondling her breasts. He kneaded them roughly, using his fingers to nip at her taught nipples. She moaned loudly as she rocked against him faster.

It was not long before her body was tensing again, her pussy tightening and creating the most pleasurable sensations through his cock. He was so close. A wild growl escaped his throat. He grabbed her hips, thrusting into her from below in unison with her wild rocking. She cried out his name. Without further warning, she came hard, her contractions milking him.

"Oh yes... Ohhh Tyrus, come with me!"

Hearing his name on her lips pushed him over the edge and he came, hot spurts of cum releasing deep into her pussy.

They stilled, panting, his softening cock still embedded inside her.

"Tyrus, that was incredible," she gasped, breathless.

"Yes it was, love," he whispered huskily, gently pushing her hair aside to kiss her neck. She shuddered, releasing a soft moan of pleasure.

He leaned back onto the sofa, catching his breath. His entire body was humming with the intensity of his orgasm.

Anya stirred. She turned around on his lap, straddling him yet again. Her nipples were still hard, the stiff peaks brushing against his chest. She put her arms around his neck and nibbled at his earlobe.

"How about another round?" she murmured against his neck.

"Baby, we're not nearly done," he replied, grinning, already feeling his cock twitch.

His hands wrapped under her ass as he scooped her up, standing from the sofa. She giggled and wrapped her legs around him, her wet pussy pushing against his groin. Chuckling, he carried her to the bathroom. Washing up would be fun.

****

Tyrus sat across from his bed looking at Anya's sleeping form. He didn't think he had ever felt like this about anyone. He didn't know what to make of it either. He had no experience to tell him where to go from here. His one and only relationship had been a sterile and predictable one, with a marriage that had happened because it was the next logical step to take.

It had been safe, and he'd been contented, but only because he had no idea that it could be any different. It was nothing like the fireworks that had started the moment he'd first laid eyes on Anya. As far as he was concerned, when it came to her, he was well and truly fucked.

His felt a deep ache in his chest as he watched her sleep, her face peaceful. He hoped he had a chance with her. Right now he didn't know how much of what she did was from the effects of his blood. They had made love for hours, all over the apartment. He looked out at the kitchen, the bathroom, and the living room floor, recalling every delicious act they had done in each spot. There were a few times where he'd been tempted to feed from her, but he had resisted, given how much blood she had lost. He didn't quite dare to test her boundaries just yet. Finally, they had ended up back in his bed. When he had sated her need, she had at last collapsed into a deep sleep.

He wouldn't need any rest tonight. There were things he had to do. Moving silently, he left his bedroom, closing the door in case he might wake her. He went to his study. When he reached his large bookcase, he ran his fingers lightly below one of the bottom shelves until they reached the concealed button there.

With a click, the bookshelf rearranged itself to reveal its hidden component - a wall filled with weapons. His eyes fell over the extensive and varied assortment. His collection had been acquired over many years. Some were ancient, used in times long before he was born. Many were from recent years, and made of lighter, more durable materials. They were also modified to kill the sorts of creatures he hunted. Silver bullets, enchanted blades, sacred wood... he had them all.

Grabbing a black duffle bag from the bottom rack, he quickly stuffed in the weapons that he knew would best serve his purpose on this trip. He grabbed a second bag, closed the bookshelf, and continued to move about the house, packing the essentials that he would need for the trip. Who knew how long it would take.

He paused when he remembered Anya. She would need her things. They could pick them up on the way out of the city. There was one last thing that he needed to do. He picked up his phone and opened his speed dial.

"It's me. Meet me here first thing in the morning."

****

Anya awoke to voices in the hallway. She sat up with a start, looking around at her unfamiliar surroundings. She blushed when she recalled where she was and what she had been doing all night. She couldn't believe that she had been so wanton with lust.

Her body responded to her memories, wetness pooling between her thighs. Although Tyrus had warned her of what his mark would do to her, she was amazed at how horny she still felt. Tyrus had been a skilled lover, knowing exactly how to pleasure her with his mouth, hands, and cock. She didn't want to think about the years of practice that got him to be so good. She had come so many times that she lost count. Yet, it felt like he had only dulled the effects of his blood slightly.

It didn't help that he was gorgeous. No man should ever have cheekbones and eyes like his. His unbelievable body was chiselled to perfection, as if he'd been sculpted by Michelangelo himself. And those beautiful lips... Her nipples peaked and her clitoris throbbed with need as she thought about him.

She couldn't believe that she'd just had the most amazing night with someone who looked like he did. It was just physical attraction, right? Sure, he'd declared his feelings for her when they were in the club, but he'd also thought that they were going to be killed.

She knew she was in trouble the moment she felt her defences come up. It meant that she really liked him. She'd always found it difficult to let men get close to her. She didn't need a shrink to tell her that growing up an orphan had given her some serious abandonment issues. The more she fell for them the more she pulled away. It was part of the reason her past relationships had always failed in the end, no matter how hard she tried. She didn't know if it could be different this time with Tyrus.

She groaned and rolled over, trying to distract herself. She didn't want to have to deal with her feelings for Tyrus, mixed up as they were, at- what time was it again? She peered at the sleek digital clock on the nightstand. The numbers read as six a.m. She frowned. Why would Tyrus have a visitor at this time?

She got up, searching for her clothes.

That's right you little minx, they're still outside on the living room floor where you left them, after your little strip show.

Her cheeks burned as she silently chastised herself, even as her body betrayed her by dampening further. She felt torn between an intense desire to satisfy her urges with her own fingers, and her mind's need to retain some modesty and normalcy. Her mind won, for now.

She glanced around the room, looking for something to cover up her nakedness. She opened up Tyrus' wardrobe. It was neat and filled with expensive looking shirts and sweaters, color-sorted and arranged by sleeve length. She blinked, not expecting what she saw. She grabbed a shirt, hoping he wouldn't mind. It was just long enough to reach her thighs.

Cautiously, she opened the door. Tyrus was standing at his bar, talking to a petite woman with long honey-blonde hair. They were standing close together, speaking in hushed tones. At the sound of the door opening, they both turned around to look at Anya. She was not prepared for the wave of jealousy that hit her.

12
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