To Protect and Serve Ch. 07

"May I?" Arthur asked, his fingers brushing with the button to Shamira's pants.

"I hope so, otherwise this is going to be really tricky," Shamira joked, noticing him blush. "You two have done this before right?"

Arthur blushed ever worse. "Sort of but . . . but someone like you was usually out of our league."

That stung Shamira more than she let on. How many times had she thought that? According to Clara, it had only been a matter of confidence and persistence, but seeing other people who'd felt the same way she had just irked her sense of honor. Her hand stroked him gently in his pants while he unbuttoned hers, feeling the zipper slip down until it formed a "V" ending just above her sex. She'd gone without underwear for the occasion, something that Arthur seemed to appreciate.

Shamira removed her hand and scooted back. "Kira, would you mind?" she asked pointing towards the top of her pants. Kira dutifully knelt and pulled them, pressing her face against Shamira's muscular ass. The vampire kicked her pants away. "I seem to be the only nude one here," she said. She grinned. "Is that how it's supposed to work? Kira, help Arthur with his --" She looked at his cock straining against his pants. "-- problem."

Kira smiled. This she was used to. She walked over and kissed her husband, and it made Shamira smile wider. She loved her husband. Shamira was glad to be included in their bond, even for a short while. While Kira was helping Arthur out of his shirt and pulling his pants down, the vampire unzipped her dress from behind and slid it down when she stood back up. Then she kissed Kira's neck while staring at Arthur, watching his eyes light up as the creature of the night touched his wife. Shamira's hands reached around and touched the woman's small breasts, then sent them down Kira's abdomen to touch the neatly trimmed patch of hair above her sex.

"This is going to sound weird --" Arthur started to say, the stopped when Shamira giggled.

"Sound weird? You and your wife are about to have a threesome with a vampire before she bites you both in the neck."

Arthur covered his face and his grin with his hands. "Okay. Good point. Anyway . . . could I just touch you? I mean, I haven't seen anyone with a body like yours outside of a comic book."

"Touch away," she said. She lay down on the couch, propped up on one elbow. She was a palm frond and some peeled grapes away from feeling like royalty. Regardless, her two "subjects" knelt and started to run their hands over their muscles, following every line and crossing every plane. Their words, eyes and fingers told Shamira something – they appreciated her body. They appreciated what she had done to get it. And for a little while, they got to be close to it.

Arthur sought out Shamira's breasts, kissing her nipples and sucking on the nubs. Kira was attending parts of her that Shamira wouldn't have thought of, such as her muscular thighs, her calves, the backs of her knees . . . "Oh, that's nice," she said. She glance over and saw that Clara was peeking in on her and smiling, taking mental notes of what these people were doing that she could use later. Clara had once told her that the secret to eternal youth and not growing bored is to keep trying to learn.

Once, when Arthur stood up, Shamira grabbed his eight-inch shaft and held on to it. "My turn," she said, drawing him closer and wrapping her lips around the head. Once that boundary had been broken, the vampire felt Kira pushing her legs apart, letting her nimble little tongue move into Shamira's pussy. Kira didn't have Clara's skill or experience, but there was something about her that was so eager to make Shamira happy that it made up for a lot.

Shamira took Arthur's member all the way down her throat, holding it there for several seconds before releasing. She sucked on it several more times before letting it pop out of her mouth. Arthur seemed really excited and since she doubted he'd be able to get it up again if he came, she wanted to save that for the finale. So she kissed it and sucked gently, not in any hurry to do the deed. Besides, Kira seemed to be having a lot of fun doing what she was doing.

"You, here," she told Kira, patting the end of the couch. The human woman reluctantly obeyed and sat down, and then Shamira had Arthur sit next to his wife. She took turns orally performing, her head dipping between Kira's legs for a little honey, then moving back over for something a little harder.

"You shouldn't be . . . we should be pleasuring you," Kira gasped as Shamira's tongue lashed her clit mercilessly.

"You are," Shamira said, licking her again, while stroking Arthur with her hand. "You're sharing each other with me."

"But --"

"Climb on board," she said, looking at her husband. "Looking at him."

Kira didn't need much encouragement, and she swung around, her hips poised above Arthur as Shamira moved his cock into place. Kira sank down, staring lovingly at the man who shared her life. She bounced several times on his impressive cock before she felt her hair being pushed away from her neck.

"Keep going," Shamira whispered, reaching around and putting her fingertips on Kira's clitoral hood. She rubbed gently as her lips lowered to the side of Kira's neck, kissing . . . kissing --

"Please," Kira whimpered. "Do it!"

Shamira smiled, met Arthur's eyes, then sunk her fangs into his wife's neck.

"Oh Goddess!" Kira cried as the pleasure overtook her. Her body felt so warm, caught between her love and the icon of vampirism who was taking her. She felt incredible passion and she felt . . . safe. She had a disease that might likely kill her and the man she'd married, but for the moment she was untouchable.

Shamira's hand on her mound was like like a nimble feather, exciting her skin. She felt so complete that at that moment, she wanted for nothing else. Then she came, her lips seeking out Arthur's as her pussy gripped his manhood As Shamira took multiple draws of blood, Kira experienced multiple orgasms.

"So, it was good?" Arthur asked, a goofy smile on her face.

"It . . . was . . . amazing," she gasped, collapsing against him. She looked over her shoulder, and her eyes showed gratitude and fondness. She leaned back and kissed Shamira, tasting a faint amount of her own blood on the vampire's lips.

"It's healing already," Arthur said in amazement.

"And I'm still . . . hungry," Shamira purred. Kira pulled herself off of her husband's rigid rod and watched with relish as Shamira mounted it, keeping her descent slow so that they could both feel every inch penetrate her. His hands grabbed her ass as she started to bounce, and Kira leaned in so that she could suck on Shamira's breasts. 'They work well as a couple,' Shamira thought. She pulled Kira against her back, as if the human woman was riding her.

"Are you ready?" Shamira asked the man beneath her.

"All my life."

She lunged for his neck, sinking fangs in and drinking deeply. He was so hard inside her, but was no longer capable of moment. She clenched her vaginal muscles, milking him for a moment and then letting the euphoria of the bite bring her to orgasm in sink with him.

Arthur felt the same warmth and safety and passion that his wife had experienced. His seed and his blood both left him, both finding a home in this magnificent woman. He knew she wouldn't take much, certainly not more than she needed. Goddess, he wondered what it felt like to be --

"Did you . . . want to try?" she murmured, pulling her mouth away when she felt sated.

"How did you know?" he murmured, his eyes wide with wonder.

"I . . . don't know," she said. "Did you?"

"Yesssssssss."

Shamira reached up to her shoulder and slid a nail along it for an inch or so, digging in and drawing a little blood of her own. "Quickly, before it heals."

Arthur was fulfilling all his fantasies that night: making love to a real vampire with his wife, becoming part of their world . . . he was happier than he'd been in a long time. He leaned in and touched his mouth to the wound sucking on it for just a moment. He looked at his wife, who eagerly followed his lead, tasting the life-force of their mistress before the wound healed over.

Shamira stayed on top of Arthur for a moment, kissing him and then kissing Kira again. Then she pulled their heads together so they could kiss each other, and slowly she disembarked.

"Next time, we can take more time," Shamira said, then grinned through her embarrassment. "I was a little anxious."

Her human cohorts laughed, considering they'd both been nervous wrecks since Clara had called them.

"How often will you need us?" Arthur asked.

"She'll probably need to come by once a week, give or take a few days," Clara said from the door.

"What?" Shamira asked with mock indignation. "Were you watching?"

Clara smiled, sauntered over and kissed Shamira long and soft, showing the humans how it was done. "Like you really object to being watched," she murmured happily.

Shamira smiled back, then looked to Arthur and Kira. "So, was it what you thought it would be?"

The both laughed. "Honestly," Arthur started, "I was expecting more . . . formal? Yeah, formal. Darker, more mysterious . . . this was better."

Kira actually giggled. "A lot better."

"Are you sure? I could try the whole Elvira Mistress of the Dark thing next time."

Arthur's eyes lit up, and his wife punched him in the arm. "ONE of us might like that," she scolded.

Shamira gave them her private cell phone number and made them promise to call if they had any questions, reservations, or even if they just wanted to talk. She wanted them to be friends, not just business associates, and they seemed happy with that notion. They talked comics and gaming, and Arthur and Shamira exchanged gamer tags for the Xbox. Clara sat at Shamira's side, pointing out rules of contact and helping achieve realistic expectations for the donor-vamp relationship. Finally, the humans escorted their vamp visitors to the door, looking eagerly forward to the next week's feeding.

"You did really well," Clara said once they were safely in the car. "You're good with people, you know that?"

"I guess. I just hoped they weren't expected something more grand."

"A gorgeous vamp shows up, treats them like they mean something, shows a willingness to please as well as be pleasured . . . trust me, they got everything they wanted in you." Clara started licking and nibbling her lover's neck. "You seem to have that effect on people."

"God you're good," Shamira gasped. "Need . . . get home . . . report to --"

"Your session with your donors is over and it's not your day off," Clara interrupted. "How should you be addressing me?"

"I'm sorry . . . Mistress Clara," Shamira said, slipping easily into the role of sex toy. It was always easier with Clara.

"But you're right, of course. Start the car, and Shamira?"

"Yes Mistress?"

Clara shoved her hand down her pet's pants and started to finger her. "Try not to wreck."

They made it back in one piece, but only barely, and Shamira had to clean the seat before heading to Shane's office. Shamira realized how much her life revolved around sex when Shane insisted on taking her report while taking her from behind, shoving her face into his desk. He expressed his pleasure with her, in more ways than one, then sent her to her room. But she hadn't gotten out of the door when her cell rang, the familiar Tubular Bells ringtone erupting from her pocket. The caller ID identified it as her sister.

"Hey Samantha!" she said as she slid the phone open, only to feel her blood chill. Her sister was crying. Shane walked up, noticing Shamira's change in posture and realizing something was wrong, but she put a hand on his chest and shook her head. One agreed on rule was that she couldn't be ordered around for any reason when she was on the phone with her sister. "What's . . . hey what's wrong. Samantha --"

It took a minute before her sister's crying lessened enough and her speech became coherent enough for Shamira to get any answers out of her, but as she did, Shamira's concern turned to pure, unadulterated rage. She was so mad she almost crushed the phone.

"Samantha," she said coolly, "I'll be there in three hours. No, I'm coming. I'll be back from the road. I promise. Don't do anything until I get there," she said, then hung up the phone.

"What was that?" Shane asked, not liking Shamira's body language.

"Family problem," she replied. "I'm taking the rest of the night off."

"Shamira, that means we can't dominate you, but you still work for me and more importantly, we're still your friends."

"Shane, this doesn't affect the house, so --"

"No, if it affects you, it affects all of us." He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Don't make me get Clara."

"Already here," the Native American said, peaking around the corner. "I was planning on taking her over to Reaper. He reserved her for the evening, but I guess not. Shamira, what's wrong?"

Shamira gritted her teeth. "My soon-to-be-ex-brother-in-law's twenty-one year old secretary is what's wrong! Son-of-a-bitch cheats on my sister and then has the nerve to blame her?!" Shamira was seeing shades of red that never appeared on any rainbow. "I'm going to --"

"Calmly reflect on what would happen if you tore him apart out of anger?" Clara put out.

"I'd feel better."

"Only briefly," Shane said, standing in front of her. "You can't go killing humans or even harassing them for simply being stupid and . . . well, human. You're dead, Shamira. You can't even threaten him."

"What are you going to do?" Clara asked. "Risk exposing yourself and our kind?"

"I know how to avoid leaving trace evidence," Shamira growled. "They won't find his body for months."

"Shamira," Clara said, using that disapproving tone that was normally reserved for mothers.

"I'll just kill him a little bit."

"Shamira," Shane reiterated.

"How can I do nothing?!"

"You can't," Clara said. "We just don't want you committing homicide. Now tell us exactly what happened."

Shamira growled. "My sister was able to get away from work a little early and thought she'd surprise her husband at the office. Well, apparently she surprised him, because he was fucking his secretary on his desk. Then he yells at her for working too many hours and never having enough time for him! That son of a bitch! Then he says the only reason he hadn't asked for a divorce was because he didn't want to do it while she was grieving my death. Bullshit! If she hadn't caught him, he probably never would've asked for anything, and . . . and . . . and I just want to rip his heart out of his chest."

"Which we've established that you WON'T do, right?" Shane asked. When she didn't respond, "Right? Shamira, you're not leaving the house until you promise you won't kill your brother-in-law."

"Or his secretary," Clara added, almost smiling when she saw Shamira mouth the word "damn." Shamira could be sneaky when necessary.

"Or his secretary," Shane agreed, "or anyone else involved in this affair, such as former mistresses or --"

"All right, all right!" Shamira said.

"Can't you just deal with this on the phone?"

Even Clara glared at Shane after that, but it was Shamira who said, "She was there for me every time I cried over anything. You want me to give her a shoulder to cry on over the PHONE?!"

Shane looked at Clara. "I said the wrong thing, didn't I?" Clara just nodded at him, so he sighed. "Okay, but I want you to call Clyde Pritchard before you get to the Alabama. And take Sebastian with you."

"What?!"

Clara looked puzzled. "Sir, I think that I could handle --"

"Oh no," Shane said. "You've gotten too close to be objective," he said, though he was smiling when he said it. "She might bat those beautiful eyes and convince you to let her get away with something. And I need you to help Lillian upgrade the wards."

"Sir, I can do that anytime."

Shane pointed down the hallway. "Go get Sebastian."

"Yes sir," Clara said shortly, shooting him a glare.

Shane matched her gaze. "Tell Sebastian to pack an overnight bag and to meet Shamira in the garage. Then you come back here. We need to talk." He watched Clara leave, then turned his attention to Shamira.

"Don't get mad at her because of me," Shamira said.

"She seems to have forgotten that I'm still the boss," Shane said coldly. "Personal issues aside, I've been very lenient towards you, but this is the last time. Unless your sister is in actual danger, you'll have to work it into your schedule, no more running off on a whim. This house has lands to run, and I demand that my employees do their jobs."

Shamira knew that he was being fair, but she was in no mood for fair. She turned to walk away, but Shane stopped her.

"I haven't dismissed you yet," he continued. "We have an incredibly important meeting coming up, drug dealers to find, and a rebellion to quell. I need your mind in the game. If something threatens my house's position, whether it be your relationship with Clara or with your sister, I will take steps. Do I make myself clear?"

Shamira wanted to hit him . . . a lot. "Yes sir," she said, her voice coming out in a whisper.

"You have living relatives who can help her and be there for her, and I suspect she has friends. I'll give you 24 hours to comfort her and do what you can, but then I expect you back here. Otherwise, the morning star investigation will go to someone who's willing to concentrate his or her energy on it." Shane hoped that the threat of taking away her investigation would make her pause, though his threat obviously pissed her off in the short run. "Now you may go." As she left, he was tempted to light a fire in his office's fireplace, because things had just gotten colder.

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The next night . . .

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Shamira felt mildly less annoyed when she and Sebastian pulled back into the garage after a whirlwind trip to Huntsville. To give Sebastian credit, he had been completely innocuous, not getting in Shamira's face, not trying to make any moves, and not doing anything that would get him decked. He had spent some time talking to Clyde about general were business while Shamira snuck in some time with her sister while the kids were asleep.

The parents were driving up the next day to console and help watch over their grandchildren, and Samantha was going to go to a lawyer's office. Apparently, the words that had been exchanged in Patrick's office indicated that there were no other options. After the kids had gone to sleep, Samantha had gone out to a remote corner of the yard and had indeed cried on her sister's shoulder.

It had taken all of Shamira's willpower to keep her promise and not go do something really unpleasant to Patrick. He'd been upset about all the long hours Samantha had worked and the lack of "quality time" they'd had to spend together. Shamira knew that her sister wasn't exactly a saint, so she seriously doubted the man's claims. She spent a lot of time reminding her sister that she was a beautiful woman in her early thirties with a job she loved, children she adored and who adored her, and would have tons of men knocking on her door in no time. That had set Samantha off crying again. So Shamira reminded her sister that she still had a pulse and was therefore one-up on Shamira. That had at least gotten a giggle.

Eventually she helped get her sister calmed down to the point where it looked like neither woman was going to do anything rash. Shamira wanted so badly to go, throw on a pair of pajamas and eat chocolate ice cream like they had done when it had been Samantha acting as caretaker, but they couldn't risk the boys seeing their dead aunt in the kitchen with a spoon in her hand. So Samantha had gone back inside after promising she'd call if she needed anything and Shamira would do her best to help out. Shamira had gone back tot he Waffle House to meet up with Clyde and Sebastian.