His Captive Mortal Read Online Free Page A

eyed him sleeping as she headed toward the bathroom. How had she not noticed him climbing in bed with her? Or nailing boards to her windows? The idea disturbed her. And what about those incredible dreams? Had he given them to her? Perhaps to make her sleep through it all? What if he had molested her in the night?
    She rushed in the bathroom and locked the door, pulling off her pants to finger her sex, not trusting her own sense of things down there. She almost groaned at the prod of her own fingers, the sensitive pleats already engorged from her shameless masturbation on his leg. Her face burned at the memory. Dear God, how would she face the man—er, vampire after that display?
    Her pussy did not feel sore or stretched. So he hadn’t violated her during the night. It took great willpower, but she withdrew her fingers and climbed in the shower, keeping the water cool to clear her head. She needed to wrap her mind around her current situation. She had a live-in vampire roommate who wanted something she didn’t know how to give him. Fantastic.
    How the hell would she get herself out of this mess?
    She stepped out of the shower and dried off, wishing she‘d brought her change of clothes into the bathroom with her. Wrapping the towel under her armpits, she peeked out of the door to make sure the vampire still slept. Seeing his eyes still closed, she tiptoed out and snatched a pair of shorts and a tank top, putting them on speed-dresser style, like she did at the department store when she had brought ten items to a changing room and had fourteen more in waiting.
    Picking up her hairbrush, she walked out to the living room, dismayed by the darkness of the place without the windows. She would actually have to turn on the lights during the day. She sighed with exasperation and entered the kitchen, flipping on the light and pouring herself a bowl of cereal. She ate in a sort of stupor, her brain short-circuiting on the vampire part every time. How long would he be here? Did she really have special power? She tried to remember where she’d learn to put the bubble of protection around herself, but came up short. Seemed like she’d always done things like that. She figured it was just a quirk of hers left over from childhood, like kissing her hand and hitting the ceiling of the car when she ran through a red light. Which she didn’t do these days, since she had no car.
    She just needed to get outside to her garden. Watering, pulling weeds and tending her vegetables always helped her sort through her thoughts. She stood and washed her bowl in the sink, setting it in the drying rack. Walking to the front door, she reached for the handle and then stopped, changing her mind.
    Maybe she should check her email first. She sat down at her computer, then started for the door again, once more changing her mind. The third time it happened, she stopped herself as she turned away from the door, freezing.
    Slowly, she reached her hand out to grasp the knob, her fingers trembling slightly at the thought in her mind. All her instincts screamed to snatch her hand away, but she pushed forward, half-expecting the door to burst into flames when she touched it. Her hand arrived, but she literally could not make herself turn the knob.
    She swallowed, her temples throbbing from the exertion of will.
    Open it, she gritted aloud. Open the damn door.
     
     
     
    “What did you do to me?”
    He woke to Sasha climbing up over him, straddling his waist. His fangs shot out before he’d even opened his eyes. He grasped her hips and pushed her further down his body so her core rested directly over his hardened cock. Her heat brought a shock of pleasure and he closed his eyes again.
    “Stop it!” she said, wriggling against his hold. She caught sight of his lengthened canines and her eyes widened.
    He found her struggles amusing, her warmth and gyrations only increasing his hard-on. “Calm yourself, love,” he counseled. “When you fight, it just excites