TEMPTING AMANDA

By Angela Knight


Amanda turned onto her back, spreading long legs wide, rolling her
hips in a single languorous upward thrust. Under her white lace
teddy, the nipples of lush breasts slowly hardened as her closed eyes
tracked the unseen.

Restlessly, she turned her face into the chestnut hair that clouded
her pillow, and slid deeper into the dream ...

There was something in the room with her.

Though she couldn't see it, Amanda could sense the erotic threat of
its presence, its ancient patience and slow hunger. And it, whatever
it was, wanted her. She felt her heart speed with terror at the
thought, but underneath the fear was a thin quiver of excitement, a
perverse longing to see just what it meant to do.

Fighting that longing, Amanda tried to sit up. Her body refused to
move. After several terrified seconds she realized she was paralyzed
on the cool sheets, unable to make so much as one muscle twitch.

Then there it was -- a shadowed triangular head with pointed ears,
moonlight glinting on white fangs as it reared at the foot of her
bed. The mattress gave with its weight as it leaped between her
helpless legs.

It was a wolf.

Its furry head lowered, and Amanda felt breath gust against her
belly, a tongue swipe her in a single sampling lick. She fought to
roll away, but still she was helpless.

The wolf licked at the silk crotch of her teddy in a leisurely way,
but his ice pale eyes watched her as if knowing her fear ... and
enjoying it. There was something almost human in the expression of
those eyes, something intelligent and aware; not the flat stare of an
animal at all.

And then the wolf's silhouette begin to shift, wavering, changing ...
Becoming muscled and broad and human.

Becoming a man.

But the eyes that watched her were no different.

The tall blond man continued to lick Amanda through her teddy, though
the silk was soaked now from his mouth. The sensation of his tongue
tracing the line of her cunt lips through the slick material began to
heat her nerve endings. And with each long swipe, her fear began to
ebb into growing lust.

Abruptly he pulled away to drop to his knees on the floor, and she
felt him wrap his fingers into the crotch of her teddy. A powerful
twist of his wrist ripped it as his free hand seized her by the thigh
and dragged her to the edge of the bed.

Then, brutally, he drove one finger up her cunt and another into her
constricting asshole. And bent his head to eat her again.

Amanda came halfway off the bed, gasping in mixed pleasure and pain.
His other hand seized one breast, rolling its nipple with the perfect
pressure to send delight flaming into her cunt.

After several minutes of his hot skill, she gradually became aware
that he was no longer eating her, just reaming her cunt and ass.
Still, the hard, driving strokes of his thick fingers made her back
arch as she quivered on the edge of climax.

He met her glazing eyes and smiled.

And in his mouth were the teeth of the wolf.

***


"I don't know why the fuck you're so surprised," observed Camille the
next day. "Jesus, you write that shit for a living -- it's no wonder
you dream about it."

"Yeah, but it was so vivid," Amanda said, stirring her iced tea with
a long forefinger and watching the granulated sweetener spiral to the
bottom. "I've never had a dream that...intense."

"Sexual deprivation," Camille announced, narrowing her chocolate
eyes, "will do it to you every time. Girl, it's been so long since
you've had any, your body's in revolt." She flopped down on Amanda's
chic gray couch, folding lengthy legs under her.

"It hasn't been that long, Camille."

"Bullshit. You wouldn't recognize a cock if one came up to you, dove
into your mouth, and started searching for your tonsils. That's how
long it's been." She grinned at her own joke, white teeth brilliant
against the deep rich cocoa of her skin.

"I've been working. I don't have time for anything else."

"Working? Christ, girl, you've got a best seller -- what the fuck do
you want?" She thumped a hand down on the thick hardback book lying
on the glass topped coffee table. Its black cover read "Shadow
Master" in red gothic letters, with "Amanda Scott" scrolled in white
at the bottom corner. Glowing between the two were a pair of yellow
eyes.

"Look, I really need to write. You should understand that -- you're
an artist..."

"Yeah, baby -- but I never let a tube of paint come between me and
something a little more... ah, warm."

"Riiight," Amanda said, grinning.

"Anyway, don't make such a big deal out of it. It was just a dream..."


***


Amanda's eyes snapped open.

He loomed over her, moonlight from the window falling across the
edged planes of his face, glinting almost white on the blond hair
curling down across shadowed eyes.

He was holding her wrists pinned over her head.

Absorbing that fact, she started to struggle. His sensualist's mouth
took on a sadistic curve, and he bent his head to bite a bare nipple.

She'd been dressed when she went to bed, but she was naked now.

He licked her, very slowly, until her breasts peaked and Amanda felt
herself begin to cream. As if sensing that, he ran his free hand down
the length of her arching body to insert two fingers into her cunt.

Lifting his head, he smiled. "You like this."

Shamed, Amanda admitted it to herself -- but she was damned if she'd
say that to him. But then his fingers began sliding in and out of
her pussy, and she moaned without meaning to.

Through a pleasure haze, Amanda felt him shift, moving over her,
spreading her legs to form a cradle for his hips. He rose to all
fours, and she looked down her body to see his cock, a thick
silhouette pointing at her cunt.

She watched hungrily as he thrust forward, finding her opening and
sliding into it against the resistance of its tight muscles. It had
been months since Amanda had felt a man's shaft, and his felt huge in
her, stretching her cunt deliciously. She threw back her head and
groaned.

As she did, she saw him bare his teeth in a parody of a grin. His
incisors were white, sharp -- and fully an inch long.

Amanda froze, then instinctively bucked under him, losing her arousal
in terror. He held her easily, smiling as if savoring his strength
and her helplessness.

Then, taking his time about it, he lowered his head as she shrank
back into the pillow. And with exquisite slowness, he sank his teeth
into the underside of her jaw.

She screamed in absolute terror.

Her fear was so insane and animal it took her several minutes to
realize that she felt no pain from the bite, only a sense of
pressure, of pulling. At the same time, his cock was sliding in and
out of her as he fucked her with long, hard strokes.

He growled in pleasure against her jaw.

Amanda shuddered. It should have hurt like hell, but it didn't.
Instead the delicate tugging sensation at her throat was sending hot
pleasure along her nerves just as his driving thrusts rammed ecstasy
into her pussy.

She felt a volcanic climax building...

And, gasping, Amanda woke up.

She looked around the room wildly, but there was nothing there but
darkness. Fumbling, she reached across to her nightstand and flipped
on the light. With the burst of illumination, she could see the
familiar bulk of pine colonial furniture, the rose bedspread bunched
at her feet. And the cream lace negligee she wore...

Which hadn't been there a moment ago.

She rolled out of bed and stumbled to the mirror over her dresser.
Throwing her head back, she feverishly examined her throat.

No bite.

It had all been a dream...

Turning, she collapsed back into bed, breathing hard from disbelief
as much as anything else.

God, that dream had been so real. So hot...

She reached between her thighs, feeling rich wetness between her cunt
lips...

Helplessly, she began to masturbate.

***

"I'm cracking up, Camille," said Amanda morosely. "I don't need a
lover, I need a therapist."

"Look, will you get a grip?" Camille said as they waited to catch the
bartender's attention. "You just had a couple of nightmares, for
God's sake."

"No, Goddamnit, I have not -- I've had seven nightmares, one for each
night of the fucking week."

"So what -- they're just dreams. It's not like you're hearing voices
or something..."

"They're driving me nuts, Camille."

"So get fucked. I'm tellin' you, you'll sleep like the dead."

Amanda didn't even dignify that with a reply. Instead she began to
stare, brooding, at the mirror over the bar. "Bottoms Up" was crowded
tonight, smokey from a hundred cigarettes and loud with rock from the
club's amplifiers. The clientele was a college crowd, cocky and vocal
with the joy of being young. Amanda, all of 29, felt positively
ancient.

And looked like hell, she thought, studying her own reflection. There
were faint shadows under her wide brown eyes from lack of sleep, and
the skin over her high cheekbones was so pale, she could have been a
vampire from one of her books.

Sighing, she searched for Camille in the mirror, but the artist had
disappeared into the crowd. Probably looking to get laid, Amanda
thought irritably. She took a pull off her banana daiquiri and turned
her head to scan for Camille again.

And looked directly into his eyes.

"Running screaming from the bar," he said in a conversational
tone, "would not be good strategy. Who knows what I might do out
there in the dark?"

Absolutely not, she thought in pale shock. It is absolutely not the
man from those nightmares. No. It's a coincidence, a wild, godawful
coincidence. Or else I'm dreaming again...

"No, it's not a coincidence and you are definitely not dreaming," he
told her, blithely reading her mind. "I'm exactly what you think I
am. And my name is Beau Gabriel ... You're going to break that."

He reached over and pried her fingers away from the glass she was
clutching so hard cracks were beginning to form. Amanda was surprised
to note that his hands weren't cold.

"Oh, please," Beau said, giving her a disgusted look out of the
corner of one eye. She realized he was reacting to her thought
again. "Spare me the vampire myths. Look over there..."

He pointed at the mirror. She swiveled to see herself sitting next to
a tall, blond, muscular man dressed in a loose black shirt tucked
into blue jeans. "See -- I cast a reflection just like everybody
else. Nor do I sleep in coffins -- I prefer beds. With women in
them..."

"And what do you do with those women?" The minute the question was
out of her mouth, Amanda winced. It sounded so coy, and she was
completely serious.

"You already know the answer to that," he said, lowering his lids
over pale eyes. "That's what I've been showing you all week."

Her dreams...

He smiled. "My idea of foreplay."

"Oh, come on!" said Amanda in sudden revolt. "This is some kind of
gag. Camille put you up to this, didn't she? She found somebody that
looked like..."

"You're not making sense."

"Look, I told her all about..."

"Did you also tell her I made you beg?"

Amanda felt her face go cold as the blood drained from it. When she
could speak again, her voice was dry and faint. "Why have you done
this to me?"

He leaned an elbow on the bar and smiled, showing not a trace of
fang. "I'm of the opinion authors should always write from personal
experience."

"Thanks, but I'll pass."

"That's your choice -- if you think you can resist the temptation."
Before she could tell him she most definitely could, Beau
continued, "You know, I really objected to that vampire in your book.
He was nothing more than a glorified rapist -- no imagination at all,
and he was lazy as hell."

"Lazy?" Amanda snapped, with the knee jerk defensiveness of a
criticized writer.

"Lazy," Beau said firmly. "Jumping out at women from bushes -- Jesus,
where's the challenge in that?" He paused, and suddenly his face
changed, shifting from the pleasant expression of a man arguing books
to something more harsh. Something predatory. "The challenge comes in
telling a woman exactly what you're going to do to her, and bringing
her to the point of surrender anyway."

"No!" Amanda exploded. "I won't -- I'll go to the police, I'll..."

"And tell them what?"

Her mouth closed with a snap.

Beau let her think about it for a moment. Then he said, "Actually,
you're quite safe. There's one vampire myth that is true -- we can't
go where we're not invited. And I have no intention of taking you
outside your own apartment."

"Why?" she heard herself ask.

"I have found," he said softly, "that the things that are the hardest
to obtain are the things I savor most."

He put out a hand and brushed his palm across the bust of her red
silk dress. She felt her nipples instantly peak.

Amanda looked down at them, then up into his eyes, ancient and
hungry. There was an arrogance there, as if he knew he had her and
was patiently waiting for her to admit it.

There was really no point in fighting him...

"No!" She lunged off the bar stool and ran, forcing her way through
the startled, drunken crowd, hardly aware that people were cursing
her.

Camille saw the flash of her red skirt as she darted by. "'Manda,
where the hell are you..."

But Amanda was already pushing through the doors. An instant later,
Camille saw her blue Datsun 280 Z tear by outside. The artist
frowned, then looked up to smile at the wiry dark man she was talking
to. "Well, it looks like I'll need a ride home..."

***

Amanda huddled on the gray couch, clutching a pale blue pillow
against her chest and thinking about the vampire. Fear and despair
vibrated along her nerve endings as she wondered what she could do to
escape.

The logical thing, she decided, was to take a plane someplace -- any
place. Go to Hawaii or Europe, or somewhere else that was comparably
safe.

Then again, she thought, on an edge of hysteria, at the moment
Lebanon was looking comparably safe. No wild-eyed, fanatical
terrorist could possibly be as dangerous as Beau Gabriel, with his
wholesome American face and predator eyes.

No wild-eyed terrorist could make her nipples hard, for one thing.

Amanda was still mulling the implications of that when she fell into
an exhausted sleep.

***

She awoke to the sensation of being picked up and dropped. The padded
arm of the couch drove into her belly, and her brown eyes flew wide
in shock. Her arms had been pulled behind her back, and a hard hand
gripped her wrists.

"Running only delayed the inevitable," Beau said into her ear as he
wrapped a fist in the back of her dress. She felt a tug, heard the
sound of ripping silk, and winced.

He reached up under her body and caught one bare breast in his hand.
Began to knead it, to pinch and roll its nipple until she shivered as
it grew hard.

He'd lied, Amanda thought. He could come in uninvited...

She whimpered. It was over, it was out of her hands...

Beau released her breast to press his hand against the bulge of her
pussy. He shoved two fingers into her, and they slid in easily.

"You're already creaming for me."

She groaned in helpless lust.

He pumped them in and out of her a few times as she sprawled across
the arm of the chair, automatically thrusting her hips. Then Beau
withdrew from her cunt, to stab his index finger against her asshole.
Amanda's back arched as he forced it into her.

"I think I'll fuck your ass while I feed," he growled. "I suggest you
find a lubricant." His tone implied that if she didn't, he'd sodomize
her anyway.

Amanda rolled off the couch and staggered across the room and down
the short hallway to the bathroom. At the medicine cabinet she
paused, peering into the mirror. Her face was flushed, her eyes
glittering.

Swinging the door open, she started to grope inside, her hurried,
careless hands knocking bottles and tubes rattling. Normally anal sex
had no appeal for her -- it had always seemed like something men did
to women to prove a point. But now the thought of Beau's cock
invading her asshole made her hands shake. She spotted a bottle of
baby oil and grabbed it.

When Amanda walked back into the room, he was standing naked beside
the couch, his hands on his narrow hips and his prick thrusting at
her. She swallowed.

"Why don't you do the honors?" he said. Amanda had the feeling he was
amused.

She ran her tongue over her lips, then impulsively crossed to him and
dropped to her knees. Lifting the bottle, she squirted a stream of
oil down his cock.

Catching her breath, Amanda closed one long hand around it. God, he
was thick -- her fingers couldn't close completely around the base of
his shaft. Almost reverently, she began to smooth the oil along it,
thinking about how it would feel thrusting hard up her.

Beau locked a hand in her long hair and pulled, forcing her to let go
of him and stand. Amanda looked up and saw that his fangs, like his
cock, were fully extended. He bent to her mouth, and she flinched as
his teeth nicked her.

He lifted his head again, looking down at the blood she could feel
beading on her full lips. His eyes heated, and he quickly leaned down
to suck them, his tongue licking the thin cuts he'd left. When he
pulled away, he was breathing hard.

The vampire grabbed the back of her neck and shoved her down on the
couch, forcing her belly against the broad padded arm.

"Spread your ass." It was a snarl.

Gasping, Amanda reached back with both hands to catch her own smooth
buns. She pulled them apart, and a moment later felt something hard
pressing against her anus.

Slowly, he forced his cock past her tight muscles.

She whimpered. Big, he was so big and so hard, stretching her channel
brutally. He kept pushing until his hips cradled her violated ass.

"Your hair. Move it."

She reached shaking hands to sweep her hair off to one side, baring
the slender column of her neck. And waited for his bite.

But instead he began thrusting in and out of her ass, slowly reaming
her. She groaned, slitting her eyes at the hot, thick pleasure with
its spice of pain.

Suddenly Amanda wanted to feel his teeth enter her just as his cock
did, wanted to feel the drawing pleasure of her dreams. Yet he made
no move to take her throat, though she twisted her head back in
invitation.

But she wanted it, needed to feel that extra piercing as he fucked
her ass.

She needed...

"Beau," she breathed.

"Getting hungry, Amanda?" he growled in her ear.

"Yes."

He licked her throat, tracing his tongue along the curve, but still
he held back.

"Damnit, Beau, don't tease me." Another agonizing minute went by as
he licked and buggered her. Finally unable to take it, she
begged. "Please, Beau. Please..."

Without lifting his head, he bit deep.

Amanda screamed, a long cry of overwhelming lust and ecstasy.

The vampire was fucking her hard now, shafting her ass so strongly
that her belly ground into the couch. She felt her climax building...

And woke up.

Amanda shook, her mouth dry, her nipples hard, her cunt richly wet.
Her hunger and frustration were so great she wanted to scream.

Goddamnit, Amanda, she thought, he's a vampire. He could kill you.
You're lucky he isn't here, because if he was he'd...

The thought trailed off in her mind.

She got up off the couch to slowly move for the door. And then she
opened it.

Beau Gabriel was standing there as she'd known he would be, straight
and patient and hungry.

"Come in," Amanda said.

The End?