CHAPTER ONE

B en kicked off the white sheet, slammed his large thigh back down on the mattress, and let out a long groan. The apartment he’d rented in Rome was owned by a fellow vampire, so it was well equipped with daytime shutters. It wasn’t daylight keeping him awake. It was a female.

Actually, that was a lie. It was his cock.

Every time he closed his eyes...

Yet another lie.

Here’s the truth. Ben hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Anna since he’d met her yesterday at the Moretti castle while visiting his sister, Sofia De Luca. Which now made it a total of twenty-four hours since he’d been semihard, despite jerking off three times already.

Even his hand had had enough.

To make matters worse, Anna had collapsed, so she hadn’t exactly been throwing come-fuck-me eyes at him, although when they’d first spotted each other, the world had slowed down.

In the moment between greeting his sister and taking Anna’s hand, he’d learned a lot about the curvy blonde. Which sounded arrogant as fuck, but Ben had been trained to be observant.

Very, very observant.

Kicking off the hard cock campaign were a set of long, thick, dark lashes which had momentarily dropped onto her cheeks in a delicate and submissive manner, doing a little flutter as a warm apricot tinge spread across her heart-shaped face. Her eyes had then lifted, connecting with his, and just before she blinked and began wiping her sweaty palms on jeans which clung to her curves, a sensual glint had given her away.

Those blue eyes had become hooded as he made his way over to her. In those few steps, it was as if Ben lived a million years; he saw Anna with her legs wide, her back arched and head flung back in pure arousal while he clutched her thighs. He felt his thumbs press into her skin as he ordered her not to orgasm until he’d finished with her completely. He tasted her on his tongue as he watched her mouth fall open.

Then, shaking off the vision, he’d taken Anna’s hand in his, and it was as if all the pleasure he’d imagined went plowing through their bodies. And he was no fucking poet, but it had struck him like a freight train.

Anna’s mouth had parted, and it had taken everything Ben had not to push her to her knees and plant his cock between her red-tinged lips.

Ben kicked off the rest of the sheet and groaned as his hand grabbed his cock.

Yank. At this rate, he was going to yank it right off.

Ben closed his eyes, imagining Anna kneeling before him. He wasn’t a dom, but he was an alpha, so a powerful woman in the bedroom didn’t excite him as much as a submissive type who opened up her soul and gave herself to him on all levels.

Fuck yes . And he knew if he had a few hours with Anna, that’s exactly what she would do.

He needed all that blonde hair wrapped around his fist.

Stroke, stroke.

Cougars—who weren’t actually cougars because Ben was over one hundred years old—who took control and rode his cock like wild cowgirls were totally okay with him too. It just wasn’t quite as hot.

Tying a willing participant to a post—or any solid object—and adding a few nipple clips to keep the party going when he was busy downstairs got his cock dripping and ready.

Jesus.

His hand gripped harder as he continued to stroke faster, visualizing Anna removing her bra and watching him clip on some of his favorites to her heavy breasts. Her face. He wasn’t sure she would’ve played like this before, and her trepidation and excitement—though imagined—was causing major swelling in the cock area.

His fat crown pulsed as his body shuddered.

He pulled down the zipper on her jeans and slid his hand inside. She’d be wet, her panties soaked...

That was all he needed.

His body jerked, and with a few more tugs, he came all over his thigh. A-fucking-gain.

After cleaning up, Ben sat on the edge of the bed and ran his hand across his face and head a few times.

Shit. What had he done?

Not about wanking off—that he didn’t care about.

He’d accepted a job from the king. He started tomorrow.

Ben Ferrero, Lieutenant Commander, in training to step up to be a Senior Lieutenant Commander—or SLC, as they were known. Which was a fucking joke because he had a job. Just one he couldn’t tell anyone about, especially not the Morettis.

Craig could probe and push all he fucking liked; he’d never get anything out of him, and he wouldn’t break. They’d never find out anything about him or The Institute. Or the Director.

Ben grinned.

He’d trained and worked at The Institute for seventy years. There was no way he was going to tell them anything. The great oaf could try all he liked; he’d just grin at the guy. He knew how much Craig loved his dimples.

Was he playing with fire?

Yes.

Did he enjoy it?

Well...maybe. Okay, yes. But life had been pretty damn serious recently. It was only because Sofia had been in trouble that Ben had shown his face. If he’d known she was mated to Lance De Luca—one of the SLCs—he would’ve kept his distance. It had happened very recently; otherwise, his intel would have been up to date.

Still, once he’d seen his sister after seventy years apart, he had wanted to see her more, at least while he was in Rome on this assignment. Which was how he’d met Anna. He was visiting Sofia at the Moretti castle, and she’d been with the female.

Why? He didn’t know. Not history fucking lessons, as she’d tried to tell him.

Little minx.

He intended to find out, before or after he fucked her.

Ben was sure it had something to do with Anna collapsing when Craig and the other warriors had confronted him in the foyer. The stress had set her off, and she’d fallen to the floor shaking. Ben had raced across the room like a mother bear, ready to kill anyone who came near her.

Yeah, that had been weird.

All the males had stayed back, which had surprised him.

Anna had reacted to his voice, calming down, before the king ordered Sofia to take her away. But not before he’d had a quick moment to make her a promise, which he fully intended to keep.

Ben ran his hand over his mouth.

The feeling of Anna’s hips under his hands as he whispered into her hair was haunting and delicious.

God, he needed to touch her again.

The king’s offer had been a shock both to him and the commander, who, while he hadn’t turned purple, had reminded Ben of the Grimace from McDonalds .

Okay, so maybe this could be a bit of fun while he completed his real mission.

The guy needed some healthy competition, and Ben was just the guy for the job. Time to bring the guy down a peg or two.

Ben laughed and climbed back under the sheets.

He’d play along while he found a way to reach Anna again...and eliminated the pending risk to the vampire race; one he knew the king was not aware of, and hopefully, would never need to know about. It was because of the work The Institute did, and its owner, whose identity could not be revealed.

Ari Moretti.