by Renee Rose
Her wide eyes meet mine. “I thought… I thought there was something wrong with me. I can’t believe I didn’t… I completely squandered my youth.” She says the last part petulantly, with a bit of self-deprecation.
I can’t stop my grin. “You squandered nothing. You are still so young.” I rub her arm.
She catches my hand, squeezing and locking our fingers together. “Dimitri—that was wonderful.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She’s so vulnerable, and I should stay away, but something about her—I feel alive. And I haven’t felt that way in a long, long time.
Her black lashes flutter and she lifts her incredible eyes to mine. “I want more.”
And she leans in and kisses me.
It’s the most chaste kiss ever. Just a light touch of our lips. But it sends fire sizzling through my veins, scorching and destroying everything in its wake.
Gwen
Dimitri’s lips are so soft and perfect, I can’t help but sigh against them. My tongue darts out, dancing over his mouth, little licks begging him to lose control. His shoulders stiffen and his hands clamp on my hips. He draws me back, gently but firmly.
“That’s enough, pet.” His face is close to mine; our breath intermingles. His eyes are darker than they were before.
“You don’t want me?” I try to be flippant but my voice comes out small and sad.
His brows knot. “It’s not that. I want you too much.”
I straddle him and roll my hips, rubbing my naughty girl parts against his bad boy parts. I feel so wild and free. It was never like this with Chad—for obvious reasons. But an hour with Dimitri, and he’s introduced me to a whole new world. Sweet pain and explosive pleasure. My bottom is hot and throbbing in tandem with my pussy. I’m wetter and hotter than I’ve ever been.
“Gwen,” he groans.
“Please, Sir,” I beg as prettily as I can. “I need this.” I slide a hand between us. My fingers find the hard ridge of his cock. My insides somersault. I tentatively cup the monster in his pants.
His big hand comes up and fists in my hair. “You’re being bad,” he breathes against my lips. But he doesn’t sound like he hates it.
“I’m a bad girl,” I inform him. I wriggle until my dress is no longer caught between us. I’m rubbing my pussy directly on his dark pants. I’m leaving a stain. I’m so naughty.
“You are bad. And I’m going to teach you a lesson.”
Squee!
He rises and then somehow, I’m over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. I squeal, kicking, even though there’s no place I’d rather be. His hand clamps down onto my bottom. I duck my head, letting my hair cover my face. I know everyone in the club heard me. They can see everything that's going on, but if I close my eyes, I can pretend I don't know that.
Dimitri carries me only a few steps before halting.
“Everything all right here?” a deep voice interjects.
Dimitri turns so I’m hanging closer to whoever asked the question. “Ask the lady.”
I flush so hard, it's a wonder my cheeks don’t burst into flame. “All good, Sir,” I squeak. I don’t open my eyes.
“Very good.” Mr. Deep Voice chuckles. It makes me feel good that someone in the club would check on me, even though I’m so embarrassed I want to disappear.
Dimitri chuckles as he carries me across the club. “You’re giving everyone quite the show. By all means, fight me harder. If you kick enough, they’ll see up your dress.”
God, I am so humiliated. And turned on.
When he lets me down, we’re in another corner of the club, nearer to the giant X cross. Dimitri lays me right on the floor and, with a gentle but firm grip in my hair, tugs me so I rise to my knees before him.
“Look what you did.” He points to his crotch. His cock presses against the fabric. More than that, there’s a shiny smear on the dark material—slick evidence of my arousal. I want to cover my face with my hands.
Instead, I lick my lips.
“You naughty thing.” Dimitri tugs my hair. “I should make you lick it off.”
I’m panting with humiliation, but oh, so wet.
He smirks at me. Was ever a grin so evil and beautiful? “Maybe later. I find I want to see more marks on your perfect skin. But first, you need to be naked.”
I swallow. “All right.”
He studies my face, gauging my reluctance and my consent.
“Arms up, little one.” I obey, and he draws the dress over my head. I automatically cross my arms over my chest. I’m practically naked in a white thong and bralette, on my knees before a tall, handsome stranger. I don’t know who I am right now, or what I’m becoming—but I love it.
If Dimitri doesn’t want me to cover my chest, he doesn’t say anything. He folds my dress and sets it on a chair. Then he leans down, cupping my cheek as he whispers in my ear, “You're doing so well, Gwen.”
“Thank you, Sir.” My breath hitches. A part of me wants to call him Master. What is happening to me?
“I promised you a taste of this world. And I’m going to give it to you. You’ve felt the palm of my hand. But I wonder how you will enjoy other implements?” He gestures towards the wall beside us. He’s still gripping my hair, and he uses it to turn my head. I look, and nearly pass out.
The whole wall is covered with the craziest implements. Wooden canes of all thicknesses and lengths, multicolored paddles—some wooden, others black or colored plastic or rubber, some with holes and some without, one with the word Daddy engraved on it. Leather floggers in sizes small to large, in black and red and purple. Riding crops, whips, chains, and a pair of giant furry gloves tipped with metal claws.
Mind. Blown.
“Come.” Dimitri tugs on my hair, pulling me forward. I start to rise and he places a hand between my shoulder blades. “No, no, my dear. Time to crawl.”
I bite my lip but let him guide me to the wall on my hands and knees. His suit-clad legs lead the way. He uses my hair like a leash. My thoughts swirl as I crawl like an animal behind him. I’m too overwhelmed to know how I feel about it, but one thing’s certain: I am so very wet.
When we reach the wall, he stops and I sit back on my haunches. Dimitri studies my face carefully. I get the feeling he’s more in tune with what I’m feeling than I am.
“Lady’s choice,” he says. I stare up at the wall. From this vantage point, the wall is less overwhelming. Or maybe I’m sinking into a mindspace where I don’t care what happens to me, as long as Dimitri leads.
“Choose one,” he commands softly.
I kneel up and point to what looks like a coil of black leather rope.
“A dragon tail. Oh, darling, that’s for true pain sluts.” But he takes it off the wall, along with a few other implements.
“Come, pet.” He walks away without a backwards glance, expecting me to follow. I crawl behind him and wait as he lays the implements out on a table. He leans down and clamps a hand on the back of my neck, maneuvering me onto a low bench. There’s a padded shelf for my knees, and an angled part that supports my torso. Dimitri guides me up and over. My hair falls over my shoulders, my head pointing to the floor. The angle leaves my ass high in the air. A perfect target.
For a moment, Dimitri simply trails his fingers up and down my spine. It’s a soothing movement but it makes bubbles pop in my belly. My haunches are still tingling, with twinges of soreness from my earlier spanking.
He takes his time gathering my hair and manipulating it into a loose braid he tucks over my shoulder, out of the way.
“You ready, pet?” he murmurs, cupping my ass.
I press upwards, the slightest movement that pushes my throbbing butt into his palm. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl. Such a good girl.” Are there any words more beautiful? “I’m going to give you a little tour. Or should I say, I’m giving these implements a tour… of your ass.” Something with many soft and tickly strands trails over my spine. “Flogger,” he says. There’s a snap of sound a
nd the strands flick against my skin, stinging me. I clench, and Dimitri lays his large hand on my back, relaxing my muscles. He trails the flogger over my skin, awakening my senses. “There are several ways to use it. Here’s my favorite.” And he brushes the polished wooden handle between my labia, using it to rub my most intimate area. I cry out. He reaches in front of me and thrusts the wooden handle between my teeth.
“Hold this.”
I bite down. The scent of my sex blossoms around me. Juices drip off the handle, right under my nose.
“Next, we have a riding crop. I was never fond of horses, myself. Not until I came here.”
My brow knots. There are horses in this club?
“Not the horses you’re thinking of, pet. But plenty of riding.” Once again, he touches my labia, this time with the flap at the tip of the crop. He rubs hard enough to make pleasure burst through me. I almost moan and let the flogger fall.
“Ah, ah.” He pats the side of my hip with the end of the crop and then smacks my ass, leaving a spot of fire on my right bottom cheek. He pats a spot on my left bottom cheek before marking it the same. “Drop the flogger, and the night ends.”
That’s the best threat he could give. I grit my teeth, biting down on the wood. I’m gonna leave teeth marks on this thing. If I ruin it, will they make me pay a fine? Maybe the club will let me take this toy home once I pay for it. This flogger will be mine.
He swats the bottoms of my thighs, once each. I breathe through my nose and keep my jaw clenched.
“Good girl.” He chuckles now, and circles me. He’s no longer holding the crop. Silky fur brushes over my buttocks and haunches. Then the metal claw tips follow, swirling over my skin. Damn. I shift on the bench.
The fur glove comes off and he tugs on my thong, making it ride up between my cheeks.
“And now the cane. This will hurt, my pet. But I’ll only give you one.”
A long wooden dowel brushes over my back. Then it flicks against my skin. I convulse with a howl. The flogger drops from my mouth.
“Oh, no. You naughty girl. Look what you did.” He picks up the flogger from the floor. My teeth marks are engraved on the handle. “I’ll let it slide if… you allow me to crop your breasts.”
I nod.
He grabs my braid and draws me up. I’m still kneeling on the padded bench. “Fold your arms behind your back.” He has to help me, arranging me so my forearms lie against each other, my hands gripping the opposite elbow so my arms form a half square. The position makes my breasts jut out. I’m still in the bralette—but not for long. He tugs the flimsy lace down so the bra pushes my breasts up.
“Lovely.” He dips his head and licks at my left nipple. Oh, wow. I pant and stare at the top of his dark head. He’s so sexy.
He rises and kisses me, licking at my lip.
Then he tweaks my left nipple. I whimper.
He tugs on my hair, kneeling so he can whisper cruelly in my ear, “Next time you're naughty, I’ll clamp these nipples. Then I’ll tease them with the crop—until the clamps fall off.”
My chest rises and falls faster. I want to cry that I’m sorry for displeasing him. I want to beg him to punish me as much as possible now. I want to scream yes, please!
“Tonight, we’ll keep it simple.” He’s got the crop again, and he uses the leather flap to rub the tops of my breasts. “A few marks on these beauties, and we’ll call it even.”
I nod, arching back to push my breasts into the crop’s touch.
He tips my chin up with the tip of the crop. “Remember to breathe.”
Whap! The crop pops the top of my breast. I roll my lips between my teeth. Red rises to stain my skin. He crops the other breast, then teases the nipple. Oh, no.
I yelp when the crop bites the tip. I twist a little, and he makes me straighten before gracing the other nipple with a stinging swat.
He drops the implement. “Good girl. So good. One last thing.” He shows me the whip I chose. I draw back from the black coil like it’s a snake. “Not tonight,” he says. “Maybe next time. Something to look forward to.”
Thank heavens.
He lifts me in his arms, scooping me up like I’m a bride. Automatically, I hang on, hugging his neck as he carries me to a curtained portion of the wall. Behind the velvet curtain is a private room, a dimly lit alcove.
He sits and arranges me on his lap, hooking my legs over his so I’m sitting, my back to his front, my legs spread wide.
“Touch yourself, pet. Show me how you pleasure yourself.” When I hesitate, he takes my right hand and puts it between my legs. “Show me.”
HIs hand covers mine. His legs draw apart, exposing me further. I feel so small compared to him.
“Are you touching yourself?” His voice is silk. “Is it nice?”
I nod.
“What do you say when I give you nice things?”
“Thank you, Sir.” I barely recognize my voice. It’s high and breathy, as sexy as Marilyn Monroe.
“Good girl.” His hand presses down on mine, mimicking my movements. “Do you only touch your clit? No penetration?”
“No.” I don’t know what possesses me to add, “I’m a virgin.”
His fingers still.
My heart stutters. “Is… is that all right?”
“Oh yes, pet. It’s more than all right.” His fingers start rubbing again, pressing mine more firmly against my sex. Meanwhile, his lips nuzzle the top of my shoulder. “Sweet,” he murmurs, sounding drunk. “So sweet. Just a little taste.”
I relax back, my eyes fluttering closed as my orgasm rises.
Dimitri
She's irresistible, my little human morsel. Exquisite. Too bad she’s a virgin. To touch her would be to break all my rules. No virgins. No innocents. I want a woman I can wreck and leave behind. There are many women who want that, who crave it. Who will beg for it.
Someone like Gwen might get attached. Even if I mind-wiped her, she could be hurt emotionally. There is a reason I never play with the same woman twice. I prefer not to break any hearts.
Or have my own heart broken. I fell in love with a mortal once.
I wouldn’t do it again.
Gwen is sweet and fragile. Untouched. Impressionable. I would ruin her. I shouldn’t be her first. But I’m so close to being inside her. I want more.
And what is life but a dance on the edge of a volcano?
My fingers find her entrance and slip inside. Her muscles tighten, clamping on my finger. She whimpers and her hips rock involuntarily. She’s desperate for it.
“Dimitri,” she moans.
I start to draw my hand away and she grabs my wrist, forcing me to keep touching her.
I lick my lips. “Babygirl…”
“Please. I want more.”
And I’m undone. I can’t wait any longer.
I tip her head back, exposing her perfect neck. Her pulse jumps and rabbits. My fangs throb and sharpen to razor readiness. With a movement too fast for a human to see, I whip my head towards hers and sink them into her waiting flesh.
Gwen gasps and groans, her body tightening and jerking in an explosion of pleasure. Her response makes my cock throb. If we were a couple, if she was ready, I’d disrobe and thrust inside her while I drank. But she’s not ready for that. No matter how much she begs.
I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be here with her. She’s a damn virgin, and I have a code. But I’m too hungry to stop drinking.
Her blood is sweet and hot. I suck on her neck with intense pulls. I’ll leave a hickey on her skin.
I break the skin on my own finger and use a drop of my blood to seal the puncture wounds. The breaks in her skin will heal faster, but the red mark will remain. She’ll see the hickey in the mirror tomorrow morning, and try to remember me.
It’s a shame I must wipe her mind; make her forget.
I’ve broken my code. I’ve drunk from a virgin, given her ecstasy. She’s innocent, she doesn’t belong in this world. I’ve got to let her go
.
It’s strange that I feel so reluctant to do so.
I ease her up in my arms, and cup her chin to force her to meet my gaze. “Look at me, Gwen.”
Her eyes meet mine. They’re emerald green. The most lovely pair of eyes I’ve ever seen. And they’ll never see me again.
“Forget all this.” I reach into her mind. “Forget me. You danced upstairs all night. You had a wonderful time, but you won’t want to come back to Club Toxic ever again.”
I’m a bastard to add that last part. I don’t normally get possessive of mortals I play with. Especially since I have a hard and fast rule of one night only. That way, there's no chance of getting attached or possessive. And yet, I can’t stand the thought of my innocent Gwen coming back here and getting taken advantage of by some other vampire. Not that Lucius doesn’t ensure the safety of the mortals who play here. But still…
I don’t like it.
So, I wipe her memories and set her free. Keep her safe from others like me.
Chapter 3
Gwen
The sun smacks me in the face. I roll over with a groan and grab my phone. It’s almost noon. I was out late last night. I reach for my memory and it uncoils slowly. Shadowy corners, throbbing music. I danced all night. But there was something wonderful about it. What was it? Maybe I’ll remember more after I drink some Earl Grey.
My bottom is sore. Did I fall? I scamper to the mirror and check it, but there’s barely a mark. A faint bruise and a broken red line. What could that be from? And why do I feel somewhat disappointed not to find more marks? Like I’d expected to see something there? I notice a dark hickey on my neck and gasp in pleasure. I try to remember who gave it to me but… nothing.
My pussy throbs, hungry.
I check my phone again. There’s a text from my best friend Aurelia, and a missed call from Chad.
Chad. Ugh. I remember his appearance last night very clearly.