Dracula's Desires Read Online Free PDF Page B

the obliterated word.
    Destroyed. Again. Somebody, somewhere, at some time, knew what she had become. And they had eradicated all knowledge as thoroughly as only bored churchmen could do.
    Valerie and John had followed the trail of medieval documents to a nearby monastery. Valerie didn’t hold much with Swiss monks; after all, they were the ones who had told all those terrible lies about her back in the day. Vivisection? Really? Those guys really knew how to carry a grudge.
    She tipped her chin until her bump came into view. “We got nothing, kiddo.”
    â€œWhy do you worry about so much, Mom-moo?”
    â€œI’m a first-time mother. I get to worry.”
    Unconcerned, the baby rolled. “I bet John-Dad will be home soon.”
    â€œHe should still be at work.”
    â€œâ€™Allo!” An unexpected voice called up from the street. “ Bonjour, petite chou .”
    Valerie stretched her neck to look between the railings of the balcony.
    â€œTold ya.”
    â€œNobody likes a smarty-pants, kid”, she muttered, waving at John. “You are home early.” Her voice careened down the front of the building.
    The upstairs neighbor pounded on their floor. “Be quiet!” an angry Swiss accent shouted.
    John’s laid-back attitude had infected her. Instead of strong-arming their neighbor into cowering, she laughed at the imperious orders.
    â€œThe bakery called. They had made almond croissants just for us.” Disregarding the grumpy neighbor, he shouted and brandished a white bag with all the flourish of a tango dancer.
    She raised herself up from the chair, still compensating for the mass of her new breasts. John’s gaze dropped appreciatively to her changed body, and then reluctantly returned to her face. Her nipples stiffened against her bikini top and her thighs clenched against the seam of her swimsuit. Since she had moved in, they had been circling each other like cats in heat. His warm eyes, his compact but sleek body, the way he wore scarves in that stylish French way, all jacked her libido to fang-aching levels.
    How could she desire John with every cell, but yearn for Lance? Would she be betraying one love to pursue another? What if Lance returned?
    Valerie couldn’t stop her hands from tracing her body from shoulders to hips even if she had cut them off. John’s expression changed from open and cheerful to blistering sensuality. His lids drooped, his nostrils flared, and his pointed tongue traced the inner curve of his lower lip.
    Arousal swelled her breasts.
    What would becoming lovers with John do to her?
    Her wet vagina offered explicit suggestions of what John could do to her.
    â€œMay I come in, mon coeur ?” John’s sensual voice shook her legs until she could barely stand.
    Valerie fled back into the apartment. She wrenched open the small refrigerator and grabbed one of the pitchers of John’s blood. She didn’t get a glass; she just poured it down her throat as fast as possible. His blood was sweet, like apples and honey, as valiant and truthful as he was. The second pitcher gushed into her mouth. She finished it before John could reach the door of their apartment. She braced her arms against the hard metal of the appliance and squeezed her eyes shut.
    The cold blood had driven out the hot shakes she’d had since his gaze had taken in her larger breasts. She swallowed convulsively. She still tasted him, his heat, his pure heart, his courage. His blood was spicy and delicious, a meal that would fuel her body better than anything. His soul gave her hope and succor in the dark hours, something that promised comfort, safety, and perfect trust.
    â€œChou? ” John entered the kitchen and sat down. “Darling, let me into your heart.”
    His body heat radiated through the kitchen. Valerie pinched the bridge of her nose. “You shouldn’t trust me.”
    â€œI do lots of things I shouldn’t, darling. Do not