Eclipsed by Midnight

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Eclipsed by Midnight Page 17

by Kristina Canady


  Grunting, he dodges my attempt to connect my fist into the side of his head and sets me down at the entrance of our walk-in closet. With his heated and displeased stare fixed on my heaving tits, he reaches over and flips up what I thought was a coat hook and a back panel set into the wall opens. Tearing my eyes from the bulging vein in his neck that has me worried about him on a whole new level, I spy a staircase slightly visible from the partially clothed view.

  “In,” he demands. He gestures by swiping the line of clothes aside in one giant, forceful whoosh.

  Taking a step to the side, I peer down the dark staircase and shudder at what might be down there. “Yeah, I’m good. But thanks.” I hiccup.

  As I ready myself to flash out of the closet, he catches me with ease as I try to escape and flips me back over his shoulder. Eating up the stairs with his long legs, he takes us down into the secret space below our basement room in the blink of an eye.

  Throwing out my power, I try to get free of his grasp. “Put me down!” I scream, pissed at the fact that he is pissed. I don’t know why, nor do I think I deserve it. We’ve always fed off one another, our match of wills never ceasing to heighten our battles and always dimming our reasoning. We grapple momentarily—he with his brute strength and profound speed and I with my elemental magic—two opposing forces who can’t seem to get a handle on the other. But this is how it always goes down when we spar. Round and round until his speed or ability to anticipate my moves gives him the upper hand. As I power up to try to loosen his grip again, he drops me into a softly padded seat, the momentum coercing me to hold back the blow that I am about to throw at him.

  Willing the lights on, I sit up straight and my jaw falls to the ground. Etienne’s eyes continue to burn a hole through me as he leans up against the wall with labored breath, hair falling wild around him and shirt slightly torn. He pushes a button on the wall, sealing my fate with a low thud by closing the door we just came through. His eyes begin to glow in their threatening way as he slowly prowls toward me. Shit, that can’t be good. My pulse thrums in my ears as my thighs clench. Why does he have to look so fuckable when I’m pissed?

  “Woman! You try my patience like no other. Half the time, I don’t know whether to torture you, fuck you, leave you alone, or just roll my eyes and ignore you. But this, this is too far. I can’t fucking take your level of blissful ignorance… or is it just self-deprecating behavior? I’ll never know for sure. But I do know one thing, you are a masochist who has pushed your sadist of a mate entirely too far. Take off your clothes. Now.” He leaves no room for argument as his pissed-off, heavily accented tone thunders around this small space that I am attempting to get my mind around.

  Standing up, I turn away from him to examine the room. There are no modern conveniences sitting out from the stone-enforced walls like one might hope for. However, one area in particular does draw attention with its proud display of neatly organized rows of fetish gear. Aside from the riding crop, chains, and dangling handcuffs, I don’t know what anything else is. We’ve experimented, sure, but that was all nominal compared to whatever is going on in here. This is a new level, and there are definitely no plush beds like in the books I’ve read either. The only soft seating was the weird massage chair, a padded bench, and some other table thing that I can’t quite make out all the details to. My mind reels from all the questions when I spin back around to meet his advancing form. Irrational dread and angst nip at my soul, flirting with my triggers.

  This isn’t a prison and I’m not locked up anymore. Calm down, Sasha, I try to tell myself before I say something I don’t mean.

  “Is this where you used to bring all your hussies?” Well, I thought my mouth was under control.

  He takes another step toward me as I automatically take a step back. “Do I need to repeat myself?” With the flick of his hand, his knife is out.

  “Put the fucking knife away, Etienne. I am not taking off my clothes, and if you ruin this dress, I’m moving back into my cottage.” If he really expects me to submit to him under these circumstances, he is bat-shit crazy.

  Like a silent predator, he circles around me faster than I can comprehend, and with a quick jerk of his hand, the fabric of my tight dress gives as cool air rushes my sensitive skin. The liquor in my system takes up a second wind, adding to our heated emotions. My now-bare skin before him by brutal way of his dagger proves to be an interesting catalyst to the growing mix.

  Ignoring my desire, I indignantly stoop to remove my heels. Pivoting on the ball of my stocking-covered foot, I shuck the ruined dress off and throw it at his feet while managing to keep hold of my stilettos. Steadying myself against the wave of tonic still working its way through my body, I level a heel at him. “Put the fucking knife away,” I slur once more.

  “Or what? You will throw your shoe at me?” His sexy voice rolls invitingly across that talented tongue of his, throwing my focus off.

  Seeing my weapon of choice in a whole new light, I shrug and let them drop from my hands. “There, happy? Now, I have no interest in being a repeat customer in your sideshow act. And another thing, what the hell did I do this time?” The room moves slightly, and I brace a hand on the weird chair next to me.

  “The breakdown in communication between us has taken a whole new low. I am your mate, I am your other half, I have been through hell and back, for you, and yet you fail to talk to me!” His pain and anger slash through me as his fist meets the stone wall in an explosive show of power vs. strength, causing the walls to impossibly tremor under the blow. Heavy concrete and stone walls under a house, under a basement—all of that doing nothing to stop his effect. I should be afraid, but I’m not. His display does nothing but excite me on a visceral level.

  “We talk all the time when you are around. I tell you everything.” I kind of wish I can take it back as soon as it falls out of my mouth; I know that isn’t completely true. But in my defense, I only ever keep things when it’s necessary.

  He rudely laughs while taking a lazy step forward and bringing a hand up to a few strands of my loose hair. Fingering the waves, he gently tucks the errant runaways back behind my ear. The contact sends a chill of warning through me and rightly so. His bottom lip disappears under his teeth as his befuddling fingertips travel down my neck in an agonizing, yearning-filled trail before coming back. I freeze. Sure enough, he quickly possesses my head by way of my hair, using it to cement his hold. Yanking down, he forces my face to move up to his. He grins down, his beauty traced with darkness, his sexy lips now curled back, revealing his dangerously long fangs. Fuck me, that mouth of his. I am willing to bow just to get the thing on me as fast as possible.

  “Everything? Care to retract that statement before I start at the top?”

  Bastard. “Fine, my communication could use some work. We already talked through Halloween; I’m not sure what else there is.” His free hand momentarily sweeps the curve of my belly before coming around to the small of back and tenderly resting there.

  “Really? You don’t know why I might be upset about you going out to drink in your condition? Especially at an establishment that houses many we do not want to be drawing the attention of at this time?” His body melds to mine, tempting me into submission.

  “Seriously? Erik and the guys had me out of there in perfect timing and they kept me safe. And what condition are you talking about? I feel fine, just a few small residual effects from the new power that I need to work on getting under control. It will be fine.” It has to be—I can’t have my wings clipped forever. His eyes change, the intensity and anger dimming as quickly as it had come as he withdrawals deeper into thought.

  Etienne

  She really doesn’t know that she is with young. How is this possible? Most females know within the week following their moon. It’s a profound connection they share with the new growing life. Should I be worried? I hadn’t considered the validity of Koray and Damien’s other explanation; I didn’t believe it possible and had marched her down here in
a fit of rage. Who was more at fault now—the love of my life or me?

  Changing tactics, my hand begrudgingly reroutes from grabbing a handful of her hair and comes around so that my thumb can wipe away the single tear of frustration now forming at the corner of her eye. Sipping it from my flesh, I bring her closer and allow my lips to dip to her neck in a show of warmth to her vulnerability. She tremors in response, completely going limp in my arms, malleable to my desires. It would serve me well to remember her submission is earned and demanding anything from her will only be met with resistance, and rightly so. Her obedience is also a finely tuned thing that must be handled with care. It is a gift. One I now remember how grateful I am to receive as my chest swells in approval with her reaction. Asserting my control, I gently pull her head back a bit further, opening her neck completely to me. She moans and shivers, allowing it with delight.

  “I’m very sorry for losing my temper, mon amour. Anu, we have much to talk about, come.” Reacting to my softer tone and gentle approach, she allows me to position her into the soft, leather massage chair. She watches with a curious light as I bring her hands forward and grab the matching leather cuffs from under the arm ledge. Sasha jerks and raises that damn brow. Bending, I smooth the furrow away with a kiss.

  “Do you trust me?” She nods and rests her chin on the headrest so that she can watch, waiting for me to continue.

  Moving behind her, I repeat the same with her feet. Tightening the cuffs, I make certain that they are firm but not too tight as to hurt her. The scent of the leather sends a thrill throughout me as I methodically move through, fastening her in.

  “Now, this is a collar that will force your head to stay down and into the headrest. Just relax.” She takes a deep breath to chase away her minor trembling and allows her face to sink into the circular opening. I quickly get the last important piece in place.

  The collar was spelled and would minimize the blow of her outbursts should something trigger her PTSD quicker than I can get a handle on. This was not to frighten or harm; this was to allow a more level playing field for us both. In the end, none of it could stop her if she set her mind to getting free. Rather, it provided a hurdle.

  It has become blatantly apparent how I have failed her as a mate, as a partner. If I would have been paying more attention and had been able to put my ego aside, I would have known that she needed more sensual stimulation to aid her in connecting deeper with her physical self. Wherein she would have had a greater chance of knowing about the love child now growing a lot sooner. Did I just say love child? What the fuck is wrong with me? I shake my head as I focus.

  Sasha has been wrapped up in learning how to control her metaphysical self so as to not harm anyone. In doing so, she severely disconnected from being attuned to her physical self, something I partially blame myself for. I should have seen this possibility. We should have done more to protect, teach, and guide her. She is still but a young vampire herself, new to our ways. Let’s just hope the budding new life hasn’t been harmed from whatever was in that damned drink she indulged upon.

  After fastening the collar, my hand travels appreciating down the soft skin of her back as I step back to admire the splendid view of her restrained, naked body. Her heavenly scent of tart berries mixed with lavender fields adds to my watering mouth. I would have liked to suspend her from the rack, but know I need to take this slow. We’ve never used this equipment, simply played with a few minor things on the comfortable bed. My cock jumps at the thought. Oh, how I love when she fights me but inevitably yields. I’m not quite sure which pleases me more sometimes.

  Painfully separating my hand from her flesh, I turn to grab a feather duster and a crop from the wall. “Anu, before we talk further on all that has been bothering me, let me start over. Mon amour, this is our new playroom that I had built for us years ago with hope that you’d come to me sooner but only recently furnished and outfitted. This is our private play space, and only ours. No other ass has adorned it and no other will.” I purr as I lightly trace the feather duster down her back and come to circle her heart-shaped bottom.

  Her body responds instantly, reveling in the sensation, attempting already to fight the restraints to get closer. Oh, this will be fun. With the flick of my wrist, the crop in my dominant hand bites the fleshiest part of her bottom, the sound bounding out louder than the actual blow. She jumps with a start but is soon swaying her hips, attempting to see if she approves of the pain. I already know that she does. I can smell her blooming arousal all around. Rotating the feather duster and crop twice more, I elicit more of her delightful shivers before continuing.

  “Feel how your body reacts, how each nerve ending fires, telling you something new.” I repeat the succession of toys a few more times until she’s groaning her approval.

  Unable to help myself, I come to a stop directly behind her, place both handles of the toys into one palm, and lay across her back. My weight encompasses but does not completely fall upon her as I rest a knee on the platform between her legs for balance. My free hand sinks to her pussy as my erection eagerly grinds into her ass. Dragging a fang down the back of her shoulder, I nip along as my fingers massage her clit. Her entire body rolls with pleasure as I drag pitches and moans out of her that I’ve never heard before.

  “Very good. Do you feel as if your body is on fire?” I whisper into her ear. Normally, it’s pretty obvious when she is as that is when she damn near suffocates the room. But here, with my new spelled cuffs, it is greatly dampened yet not completely absent. She groans once more and nods her reply, sinking into a euphoric state.

  “Not so fast, mon amour,” I warn. I land a firm smack on her ass and quickly warm away the sting with my palm. It’s just enough to hold her back from subspace, yet excites her in a whole new way. Urgency fills her as she tries to lean back against the restraints and into my hand for more. She always has been a little pain slut, thank the goddess for that. Pulling myself off her with a frustrated groan, I position to land another firm one on her other cheek. She revels in it, bucking for more as a pretty, rose-colored handprint forms on her milky flesh to match the other side.

  “Not yet. Tell me how you feel.” Flexing my precise control, I hold back from my need to slam the brakes on this exercise and ravage her on the spot.

  “Etienne, please, I need so much more it hurts.” Her breathy whimper makes my knees damn near buckle.

  “That’s not telling me what you feel—that’s telling me what you need.” I force my voice to hold steady as I slowly remove my belt, rolling it up in my hand before setting it down.

  “Ugh!” she finally cries out and yanks at her restraints impatiently. Before she can get herself worked up, I pick up the feather duster to begin again. “Goddess, that feels so good,” she purrs.

  “And?”

  “Soothing yet sensual, little light touches making me want so much more yet happy to stay suspended in them.” She hums, attempting to comply.

  “Very good, and this?” I give her a harder flick of the crop, quickly followed with the feathers.

  Unintelligible sounds fall from her quivering frame.

  “Sasha, talk to me,” I warn.

  “So much goodness,” is all she can manage in a broken attempt.

  I repeat the combo once more before stopping everything. “I’m going to need you to be a good little sub and talk to me.”

  She whines and sighs before resuming. “Fine! Warmth, pleasurable pain that makes my clit throb followed by more pleasure, chills, heat—throbbing… my whole body is needy and throbbing!” She cries out in frustration and forcefully yanks on the unforgiving wrist cuffs, the chains rattling across the base.

  “Very good.” I land a single, hard swat to her ass.

  “Ouch, what was that for?” She gasps.

  “For the delay and attitude in complying. Now, be a good pet, do as I ask, and you shall receive much more of what you desire.” The last word slowly falls from my mouth, dropping it down a husky octave for effec
t.

  Knowing full and well that I meant what I said, she quiets down to wait. Another beautiful sign of her submission. Beginning again with the feathers and crop, I work her back into a blissful state in no time at all.

  “How does your head feel?”

  “Fuzzy,” she quickly complies.

  “And your breasts?”

  She forces herself to speak. “Heavy, achy.”

  Landing the crop a bit harder, I speed up the succession. “And your loin?”

  “Like it needs to be fucked, hard,” her sassy mouth growls.

  “Dirty girl,” I say appreciatively with a low rumble of my own. And I fucking love it.

  “And your ass?”

  “Like it’s on fire.” Her breathing picks up but the slight hitch tells me she is holding back.

  “And?” I push.

  “Like it needs you in it, on it, shit, I need you everywhere,” she cries in desperation, the metal of her tethers echoing her frustration as they do their best to hold her pulsing body.

  “Very good.” Stripping off my torn shirt, I cover her with my body once again, resuming the position behind her. My hands quickly forget about the toys, allowing them to fall to the carpeted ground so that they may dive back into the tortuous manipulations that quickly have her quaking on my fingers again. “What do you need?” My breathy words struggle to maintain composure as my body works up and down hers in a frenzy.

  “Please, please let me come,” she begs as her body shakes uncontrollably.

  “Very good.” With a few more flicks of my deeply seated fingers, I send her over the edge into an all-consuming orgasm. She pants and screams my name, gorgeous music to my ears. As her body rattles under me, her wetness seeps down my hand and beckons me to promptly roll her into another orgasm, but I hold back. If I go too far, she will be useless at the end and we have important matters to discuss.

  The minute her body comes to rest, I make quick work in releasing her. Gathering up her limp form and pressing it into my chest, I ascend the hidden stairs to our bed, leaving the playroom for another day. Pushing past the hung clothes like a beast crashing through a forest, I trek on into our room. Laying her out on our welcoming mattress, her satisfied purring and intoxicating scent has me quickly stripping my pants and climbing up her body as fast as I can manage.

 

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