Sensual Danger (Venice Vampyr #4)

“Later, my wife, I’ll teach you something new.” His eyes dropped down to his cock. “I’ll teach you to love the taste of my cock.”


The thought should disgust her, but it didn’t. Nico had put his mouth to her sex several times, licking her, sucking her. Yet so far, he hadn’t asked her to do the same to him, even though she’d been curious. More than curious in fact. She was craving it, but hadn’t voiced it, because she wasn’t sure whether it would be too shocking a proposition. But now . . .

“Tell me, my wicked husband, why don’t you give me a little taste now before you leave?”

Nico groaned, his eyes darkening. “Because if I let you suck me now, I’ll never leave this room.”

Then he turned abruptly and went into his own bedchamber, closing the connecting door behind him.

Oriana sighed. She hated waiting. Knowing she would get bored if she remained in bed, she rang for her maid. Since her husband would be out of the house for the entire evening, she could attend to her own business. She’d neglected her research in the last few days, and it was important that she returned to it.

Tonight she would venture out with her trusted footman Giuseppe and take her apparatus with her to test it. It was something she couldn’t do in her laboratory. She had to roam the dark streets of Venice in search of vampires and hope her machine was working.

She’d tested it as much as she could in her laboratory, using herself and Giuseppe as test subjects. When a human touched the rod that protruded from it, the center of the machine would emit an orange glow. Her research led her to believe that the physical composition of a vampire was vastly different from a human; therefore the machine wouldn’t emit that same glow when coming in contact with a vampire. She expected it to glow blue instead, or maybe green, but not the warm color of a living, breathing human.

Tonight, she would try to find proof for her assumptions.

***

Nico sank his fangs deep into the woman’s neck, closing his eyes so he could imagine it was Oriana he was drinking from. But neither did the whore who was plying her trade in the back streets of Venice have the young and pliable body his wife possessed, nor did she smell as enticing. Rather, the smell of the filthy streets clung to the woman he’d coaxed into a dark corner, using his mental powers of suggestion, a skill every vampire possessed. Maybe subconsciously he’d chosen a victim who looked and smelled nothing like his wife so he wouldn’t turn delirious thinking he was drinking Oriana’s blood.

While the blood was as nourishing as any blood he’d had in his long life as a vampire, it didn’t give him the satisfaction he’d hoped for. He knew why: after making love to Oriana for two days and two nights, he craved her blood more than anything. Had he stayed another minute, he would have attacked her and taken her blood no matter how much she protested. Luckily, he’d had just enough strength left to flee the house and her tantalizing scent.

However, even now her scent seemed to follow him. Even in the dark streets of Venice, where some of the canals smelled viler than others, Oriana’s scent filled his nostrils, as impossible as it was.

Knowing his body had gotten all the nourishment he needed, he let go of the woman’s neck and licked the tiny incisions with his tongue, closing them instantly. Then he pressed a few coins into her palm—more than she would have earned had she serviced a dozen men tonight—and wiped her memory of the event.

Nico exited the alley and walked to a small piazza. On one side, a small fountain provided water. He cupped his hands and filled them with the cold liquid, then splashed his face and neck to wash away the whore’s scent.

When he dried his hands and face on his cloak and lifted his head again, his nose twitched. Oriana’s scent was back in the air. Clearly, his own body still smelled of her after he’d practically bathed his hands and mouth in her arousal for hours on end. He’d never been so crazy about a woman, and he’d certainly never thought he’d take to marriage so quickly and with such enthusiasm.

Turning away from the fountain, he crossed the piazza and walked over the small bridge that led in the direction of his home. Like a beacon, Oriana’s scent guided him, but when he reached another fork and would have turned right to continue to his house, Oriana’s scent seemed stronger to the left.

He hesitated when a scream suddenly echoed through the narrow alley.

Oriana!

It was her voice, he was certain. His entire body went on alert, and he ran in the direction from which the scream had come, her scent becoming more intense with every step he took. When he rushed around the next corner, he saw her: his proper wife was engaged in a battle with a thug, who had his hands on an item Oriana was gripping with both hands. He focused his eyes: it was some sort of apparatus he’d never seen, and it was emitting an orange light.