Blood Rose by Sharon Page Read Free Book Online Page A

legs were hooked around the vampire’s waist and he held her up against a wall. He was thrusting into her so hard he shook the wall.
    “I die!” the woman cried.
    Goodness, they had to save the poor creature! But the woman screamed in pleasure and ripped at the vampire’s clothed back with fingers curved like claws.
    The woman was enjoying herself. Her life wasn’t in danger—yet.
    “Hell and perdition.”
    She heard Sommersby mutter the curse. “My dear, you really don’t belong here.”
    It was true. She’d steeled herself to expect audacious sex acts and lewd couplings—she’d seen many such illustrations in the Society’s hidden texts—but she knew he was right. She was not a virgin, and she truly liked sex, as illicit and unladylike as that was, but she was shocked by this. By women who willingly gave themselves to demons, who exposed their breasts to catch male attention, and who were willing to sink to their knees and kiss a man’s privy member at his command.
    Many jades cast glances at Lord Sommersby and Mr. Swift—below the bizarre masks, both men’s beautiful lips and strong jaws were visible. She guessed the women knew the masks covered handsome faces, that the cloaks shrouded muscular, beautiful bodies.
    The three of them kept to the shadows—though in this crowded corridor it was almost impossible. Serena noticed the care Lord Sommersby and Mr. Swift took to disguise the fact they had no fangs.
    She was masked too—in harem style, with a subtle strip of white cloth hiding her face. Mr.
    Swift had torn fabric from his cravat to fashion it for her. He’d chosen the part that wasn’t bloody from his wound, a wound that he cavalierly disregarded.
    A woman with wild henna-red curls leapt in front of Drake Swift. A quick tug of her hands and her low-cut bodice popped beneath her breasts. She jumped giddily so those breasts wobbled up and down, like jelly aspic on a platter. The woman’s hand snaked out and clamped onto Mr. Swift’s crotch.
    Drake Swift gave a hearty laugh. “Not now, wicked wench. I promised to stuff the arse of this one with my companion. But those luscious tits of yours look like a meal for two.”
    Sensual need forked through her at his crude words, and she almost stumbled in shock. The woman gave a playful pout of scarlet-painted lips, then raced off, and leapt into another vampire’s arms. This gentleman was most definitely a vampire—his fangs lapped his lower lip. He possessed white hair; a grizzled face; a strong, lean body. He pulled out his cock and the woman toyed with it.
    It was incredibly long, curved like a scythe, and soon many women’s hands teased it while the vampire moaned his pleasure.
    Serena looked away. These women must be fools. This vampire would drink from them. He would hurt them. The books described the vampire’s bite as the most intense pleasure, but Serena didn’t believe it.
    “Are you all right, little lark?”
    It was Drake Swift, murmuring by her ear, setting her skin tingling with the warmth of his breath.
    Serena nodded. She was. Her heart beat a wild rhythm as they passed men—the dozens who prowled the hallways or who suckled women’s breasts or who rutted wildly against the wallpapered Blood Rose ©Sharon Page 2007 Email: [email protected] 22

    walls. What would happen if she walked into Roman? Or Leonardo? But she did not recognize any of the handsome faces with their glittering, reflective eyes, their long, curving fangs.
    Every vampire she saw was attractive and wore clothes that spoke of great wealth. Many smiled at her. With just a glance, a vampire could make a lady lust and need so much she willingly offered her neck, but the heat these demons ignited—which she fought—was nothing compared to the sparks that scorched her each time she brushed against her hunters’ bodies. She walked between the two men, Mr. Swift on her left, Lord Sommersby on her right. She no longer knew which man’s hand rested on her waist, her