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Author's Note: Well, I have to warn you. This chapter has some mature content. So, be prepared! And, thank you for the reviews, favorites, and follows! I hope you enjoy this next segment of the story! Thanks for reading!
The Soldier
Chapter Twelve: "The Dominant"
The newborn army nested in an abandoned warehouse in Seattle, Washington. Altogether, there were twenty-two vampires cohabiting the dump. Their vicious natures combated amongst the ranks. Individuals fought for an inch of space, the concrete walls suffocating them. Ply wood boarded the windows, blocking all light. "It's unnatural," Peter commented. "Why are they staying in this shithole?" The question met silence. None understood the workings of the newest army. After twenty-four hours of surveillance, the Whitlocks realized that the newborns suffered their environment with purpose. No one left the compound without being forcibly removed. They feared the outdoors, but why?
"Maybe, they've been fed false information," Randall piped. All eyes turned to him. "I mean, if you're trying to control twenty-something newborns, you'd need leverage. Obviously, Victoria doesn't have the manpower to control them. It's possible that she fudged the facts. They're all kids – teenagers. What do they know about vampirism?"
"That's it," Bella exclaimed. "They're scared of sunlight."
The rancher snorted, "Why in the hell would they be scared of sunlight?"
"Humans believe that vampires will combust in direct sunlight," Jasper explained. "Their ignorance will work to our advantage. We can attack them during the day. They'll be too cowardly to vacate the base."
The soldier glanced at her Rolex. Morning would arrive in three hours. Slyly, she shifted attention to Alice. The recovered pixie hid in her husband's shadow. When their golden irises connected, the boyish vampire flinched. "Will there be sun," Bella asked. The Cullen nodded, ducking her head. A twinge of satisfaction stroked the immortal's ego. The dismemberment had worked like a charm.
"Well, I could eat," Peter hummed, rubbing his stomach. "Anyone want to join?"
"We'll stay," Randall stated. "The rest of you can hunt."
Decidedly, the others left the rooftop. Her mate took advantage of their solitude. Without uttering a word, the journalist began removing his clothes. The seductive display caused heat to pull between her thighs. Bella walked towards him, eyeing his exposed flesh. Randall's dick hardened in anticipation. Licking her lips, the immortal grasped his member. Jolts of pleasure wracked through their bodies. "Fuck," the soldier moaned. She used her other hand to handle his sack. Her musician needed release.
Randall undressed her as she cradled his cock. His delicate touches were slow torture. "Trapper," ghosted across her neck. Bella tilted to her head, submitting to the angelic male. He nuzzled into the scarred skin. "You're so beautiful," the journalist purred. Her mate grabbed her waist, lifting her. The soldier responded by wrapping long legs around him – still standing. Slowly, Randall lowered her onto his dick. Inch-by-inch, he filled her dripping folds. It felt otherworldly.
Still held in his arms, the immortal rocked on his member. Randall pressed her tightly against his body. All she could feel was him. Then, unexpectedly, the journalist bit into his mark. An action usually reserved during orgasm. He remained latched throughout their coupling, pumping venom into her veins. The knowledge of his essence infiltrating her body became her undoing. Bella unraveled under his dominance.
Randall settled inside her. Even after spilling his seed, he refused to detach. Bella leaned forward, offering more neck. Her mate growled, lowly. Without removing his teeth, he began to pump – again. Their juices created a delicious friction. The soldier hissed, unable to process the coital abuse. Time seemed to stand still. All that existed was Randall, a god amongst immortals. He consumed her – mind, body, and soul.
The others returned, finding them locked together. Bella vaguely acknowledged their existence. The mates' passion deterred the other women, sending them to another rooftop. However, the Whitlocks watched with indescribable expressions. Randall released an animalistic warning; it was ignored. Biting even deeper into her neck, the soldier praised his name. "Fuck modesty," she thought.
They ended their escapade after reaching their twelfth climax. Carefully, the journalist separated their bodies. Immediately, the soldier wanted to go for another round. Their fucking had been primal – hellish. Bella loved every second. After receiving so much of her mate's venom, she felt like an extension of him. One could not exist without the other. Love barely grazed the surface of her emotions.
A teasing whistle erupted from Peter. The couple faced the intruders, naked. Bella made no attempt to cover herself. The inner predator insisted on displaying her beauty. Sporting a small smirk, she stared at the Whitlocks. The rancher winked, saucily, but Jasper remained unreadable. His stoic expression accompanied by black eyes. Randall chuckled, collecting his jeans. Something was amiss.
"Put on some britches, Sugar! We've got newborns to kill."
"Yeah, yeah," Bella sassed.
As she redressed, a series of thoughts raced to the forefront of her mind. The most prominent belonged her maker. While fucking her mate, she'd disregarded the bond. Now, Bella could feel the connection. The scavenger was closing their gaping distance – quickly. She frowned, surveying the horizon. "He's coming," the soldier stated. The men soured at the information. The impending arrival of her sire threw a wrench in their plans.
"We can return tomorrow," Randall suggested.
"No, the army needs to be destroyed. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to Charlie. This ends now."
"Girls," Peter shouted, "Do you want to join the fun?"
As the immortal expected, the women declined the invitation. They opted to await their return. Bella snorted in contempt. Of course, like always, the rancher found her reaction amusing. He laughed, giving her a swift tap on the ass. "Most women aren't like you, Sugar. Females are meant for safekeeping; you go against the grain."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"You're an anomaly," Jasper answered. "Typically, females are the weaker sex. Once turned, their first instinct is to find a suitable mate for protection. If they do not find a partner, they join a coven for protection in numbers. Obviously, you're different. You're a veteran that lived in isolation for years. When exposed to our coven, you left after a few days. No female vampire would seek independence. You possess the instincts of an alpha male. Hell, you even fuck like a dominant."
"That can't be true," Bella argued.
The Major smiled, tipping his head towards the women. "Look at them. They're scared shitless of you – especially, Charlotte. Their distance is an act of submission. They do not see you as a sister; they see you as a warrior. You should accept your nature."
"Then, what about Alice? She wouldn't leave me alone."
"My wife would not acknowledge your dominant nature. She continued to view you as a human. Knowing most females are omegas, Alice thought your words were all bark," Jasper drawled. "Of course, when you ripped her into pieces, she conceded to the truth. Now, she will obey you as a Whitlock – an alpha male."
Bella looked at Randall. For a brief moment, she felt insecure about the Whitlocks' assessment. She wanted to be viewed as a woman – his woman. As if knowing her thoughts, the journalist gave her an up-and-down examination, his dark eyes assaulting her. Desire painted clearly within their depths. The soldier smiled at his eye-fucking. All concern vanished. Obviously, Randall didn't give a rat's ass about her mannish tendencies.
"Alright, Love Birds," Peter clapped. "We get it! Now, let's torch some newborns!"
True to the rancher's nature, he didn't wait for a reply. He leapt off the roof with a jovial hoot. Entertained, the others followed him. The promise of a challenging fight fueled the monsters within them.