“I am not done yet.” His lips twist.
He’s mocking me, throwing back the intensity of what I am feeling at me and…I am taking it all in. Absorbing it. Every pore in my skin stretches open, aching, yearning for him. The heat from his big body pours over me, and I gasp.
It’s a mere foreshadowing of things to come.
My thighs clench. Saliva pools in my mouth. The thought of him doing all that to me, hitting me, causing me pain, should send me screaming. Should make me want to run away from him right now. If I had even one iota of self-preservation, self-respect, any sense of self, I should try to leave, and then what? Find my way back to an existence that is safe.
Boring.
Without him.
When had he become such an intrinsic part of me, that the idea of being without him makes the rest of my life stretch out in front of me?
A long line of endless waiting, waiting for him. Is that why the thought of everything he can do to me has me aroused? Has me trembling? Has my hips jerking forward as if trying to seduce him to hurry up? Hurry up. When had I become such a perversion of myself? Since I met him and a part of me had responded to that cruelty of his gaze. The way his eyes narrow at me, gauging my reaction. The way he stalks my every move, follows my every breath, waiting for me to say something. Anything.
“What…what else?”
“I want to find your limits. Test them. Push them. I want to take you over the edge into that space where nothing exists except pain. So much pain that it puts you out of your mind, releases you of the trappings that hold you back. You ready for that?
My throat goes dry.
Everything he says is different. Words packed with yearning, a hushed determination. A deep need for something that is so wrong. All wrong for me. So wrong that it seems right. Is it wrong that I want everything he says he can do me?
Excitement crackles over my skin. My instincts scream at me to leave. Warn me that once I taste every forbidden delight he has to offer, I’ll be spoiled forever. I’ll never want another the way I want him. There is no future for us. My heart stutters. Perhaps it’s precisely that thought that loosens the conflict inside of me.
I straighten my shoulders. “You’re right.”
Color fades from his face. His features twist in a semblance of pain. The kind of pain he’d said he wanted from me. The pain that would have filled the hurt inside of him. Two parts of a whole.
He squares his shoulders. "Okay then.” He swivels on his feet and begins to walk away, his back straight, that hardened butt of his flexing with each move under his clothes, his powerful thighs unfurling with each step that he takes forward.
“Aren’t you forgetting something, Doc?”
He pauses but doesn't turn. The muscles of his back go solid. “What?”
“Where’s the pain you promised me?”
Doc
Her voice sweeps over me with the force of a storm. My chest tightens, my muscles bunch, and my shoulders go solid. “What did you say?” I turn on her.
She gulps. Color burns her cheeks.
“Tell me, Red.”
“I want to find out what you can do to me. How far can you push me before I break?”
“What if you can’t bear it? What if it is too much for you? What if it makes you hate me?”
"You won’t hurt me.”
A breath rushes out of me. “In case you missed it, that’s what this entire conversation is about. The pain I can cause you, remember?”
“That’s different.” Her gaze skitters away.
“Look at me, Alice.”
She raises her chin.
“How is it different? Tell me.” I need to know.
Can she have read between my words? Can she have gleaned what I meant? Known what I have been trying to communicate to her all along? Nope, not possible.
No one has seen past the harshness of my tone, the implied threat of my dominance, the absolute need to possess that hides what I really want. The need to be turned on with that raw edge of emotion that only comes alive with the pain of another. Yeah, I am a bastard.
The kind of man your ma warned you about.
The most perverse kind of filth, the one who gets off on the yearning of another. The only women I have been with so far are those who are professional pain seekers.
The kind who wants more…more. The more I inflicted my demands, the more they wanted. The more fake they became. All fake. Unlike her.
This pure, giving woman who stands in front of me meets my gaze, sets her jaw, and tells me, “I trust you, Doc. Don’t you see that? I trust you with my body, my soul, my emotions, my feelings.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “What more do you want me to say?”
“Nothing.” I tuck my elbows into my sides. “The fact that you can give yourself so willingly, that you want to put up with everything I can do to you, that you don’t even question the kind of perverted man I am…”
“A sadist.”
“What?” I snap open my eyelids.
“I’ve heard about it, you know.”
“You have?” I scratch my chin.
“There are women who get off on the perversions of Fae males.”
“Oh yeah?" I frown and lean forward until I tower over her. "And what do you know of that?”
“I may be a virgin—”
"Don’t remind me,” I growl.
“But I am not innocent.” She sets her jaw. “You don’t grow up with a Fae family and not hear about the out-there tastes of alpha Fae males.”
“And what have you heard?” I want to scoop her up and take her back to the bedroom and tie her down, butt in the air, curves exposed and quivering, and waiting for me. My groin throbs, and I pull my thoughts back to the now. To her. Her face, her lips, her cheeks that grow rosy as I arch my eyebrows at her. “Tell me, Red.”
“About the pain sluts, the groupies who hang around Fae haunts in the hope of finding a master. One who’ll take them on as submissive and teach them the meaning of pain, of heat, of love—”
"Who are all Fae. I can't hurt them with my perversions, the way I could hurt you." I lean forward on the balls of my feet and her gaze widens.
"So all this...this fuss is because I am human?" She sets her jaw, "You think I am too weak to bear the consequences of your demands?"
I glare at her and she gulps, then mimes zipping her lips. Hmm, sassy. Definitely, need to spank that from her. I flex my fingers.
Her gaze lands on my hand and color floods her cheeks.
“Besides, there's nothing romantic about what I want from you.” I crack my neck and my joints pop.
She raises a trembling hand to smooth her hair. The scent of her fear bleeds into the air and my vision tunnels, focusing on her. Elevated breathing, dilated pupils, pulse fluttering at the base of her neck. A calmness descends on me. This is what I yearn for. Her giving in to me. Her wanting everything I can do to her. Her ready to submit. To me.
She squares her shoulders and peeks up at me from under her eyelashes, and my groin hardens. The blood drums at my temples, echoing the throbbing of my balls. The fuck? My throat closes. The scent of dragon smoke seeps into the air.
I was mistaken.
Holding back with her is impossible. I thought I could make her give in, to break her and reveal her soft core? It is I who is close to revealing what I am. A perversion among the Fae. One who has the genes of my dragon ancestors sewn in with my Fae compulsions, which makes me unsafe, dangerous for her. “What if I don’t just mark you, but go further?” I rake my gaze over her face, her breasts, over the curve of her waist to where her thighs squeeze together. "What if I push you to the point of no return?"
The scent of her arousal rends the air and wraps around me, and my heart…the stupid fucking thing, stutters. My chest hurts for her. To be inside her. To squeeze her flesh and absorb her cries of pain. Yeah, it comes down to that. The need to see her come undone in my arms.
“What if it is too much for your body? What if I br
eak you completely?"
“You’re forgetting something.”
“Huh?” I lean forward on the balls of my feet.
“I trust you.”
Trust. Did she just reveal exactly how vulnerable she is to me? That she would lay herself wide open for me, bare her heart. Hand over her body, herself, her emotions to me and ask me to show her what it means to be completely at someone else’s mercy.
“You have no idea you are saying.” I close the small millimeter of distance between us, bend my knees so I am at eye level. “No fucking idea.”
My voice rasps through the space between us.
She flinches but doesn’t back down.
“I do.”
“Oh yeah?” I reach out a finger and trail it over her cheek. Just a touch. A gentle caress to soak in the warmth of her skin, to sense her anticipation, smell her excitement, revel in her fear.
Just a glimpse of what I can offer her.
Of what I can do to her, of how it could be between us…should she choose to take things further.
“I understand that you can cause me pain." She holds my gaze, "that sometimes my body may think it doesn’t want it, but that what I hate may be exactly what I need.”
The breath whooshes out of me. Fuck me. I stare at her. “And how exactly did you learn all this?” My voice is hushed. Any of the women I’ve commanded before will tell you that’s the calm before the storm. That’s the casual voice I use just before I go all Dom. That’s the warning that my true nature is about to be unleashed, to wreak a whole swathe of pain on my unsuspecting slave.
“Tell me, Red.”
Her breath stutters.
“I...I followed you to the club you frequent." She gulps. "I may have even crept inside and seen you whip some of your subs.”
“What else?”
Her chest heaves; her breasts tremble, “I saw you leave with women and I hated them.”
“Is that right?” My tone drops another notch. I can't stop my lips from curving in a satisfied smirk. Hey, I am allowed, okay. She’s the one who confessed to stalking me, prying into what I did.
“Yeah.” She gnaws on her lower lip, and the scent of blood seeps into the air. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Not good. She shouldn’t have done that. Pain. Blood. The kind of stuff that’s a siren song to my senses. Combine that with her vulnerability, the fact that she trusts me and…well, it’s a potent aphrodisiac. The kind that makes me realize that I can’t back away now.
Not when she says, “I wanted to be them." She sets her jaw, "I wanted to take their place. I wanted to kill them all, so you’d see no one else but me, feel nothing else but my skin, do to me whatever you were going to do with them, instead.”
“And now?" I allow my chin to drop forward. "How do you feel now when I've told you what I intend to do to you?"
I keep my tone at an even keel, when inside, blood pounds at my temples.
"Answer me Red.”
“Now I am sure that there is no one else I want for my first time but you.”
14
Alice
I should turn and hide. Beg him to take me back home.
I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted him to be the first. I’ve known I wanted him since the day he looked into my eyes and told me he would make the pain go away. Now the same man who took care of my ankle is promising me a world of pain, an entire sea of possibilities I haven’t contemplated before now.
I had been truthful when I said I’d hated every woman he’d been with, and nothing gave me the right to be that possessive of him.
Especially not when he’s making it clear that there can be no possibility of a relationship between us—not in the conventional sense, at least. He’s promising me what? Something different, kinky, something that more than arouses my curiosity. It arouses me, period.
Makes me want to delve into my true nature and explore the hidden parts of me, find out what exactly I am. Not just human. Not a virgin…more than that. I sense there is something more, and I want to find out how he will react to me. How he will inflict more than just pain, reveal what I haven’t been able to discover on my own. Yeah, there’s that pain word again. I should be terrified of it. I should be scared of it, but I’m not. All it does is turn me on. “Please.”
Right now, I am begging him. I have all but bared my soul to him, stripped myself of everything. My self-respect, my needs. I have handed over my trust to him. What else does he want?
“Please what?” His gaze is steady.
Is this what he meant, that he would push me beyond my boundaries? That even after I have given him everything, he will make me dig deeper, pull on reserves buried deep inside?
“Please show me what it means to experience true pain. True pleasure. True everything. Show me what it means to truly belong to you.” My voice hangs in the space between us. The words sound so hollow, that I wince.
It’s not easy. Giving up so much of myself. Stripping myself of every single barrier I have built up against the world to survive so far. Will I survive this? Survive him? And if I don’t, will it be so bad?
“Once I start, there is no stopping.”
“So if I wanted to, I couldn’t back out?”
“You need to do all your thinking now, before I take the first step…the first slap, my first...taste of you.”
I swallow. “Okay.”
“We do this as a test.”
“A test?”
“Just for two days.” His voice is gruff, and I expect him to smile. But he doesn't.
He simply speaks with those canines protruding from the sides of his lips. "I am not completely heartless, you know?"
“No, you're just scary.”
“You afraid of me, Red?” He flicks back his ears and my gaze darts to those lengthened tips.
“Yes,” I reply honestly.
“Good.” He straightens. “You should be afraid. It keeps you alert. Heightens the anticipation of what is to come.”
“It also makes me wet."
He sucks in a breath, “You little tease.” His eyes glint. “I know what you are doing, little Red.”
I stare, and he smirks, and that wicked curl of his lips sets goosebumps unraveling over my skin.
“You are trying to provoke me, taunt me. You are forgetting one thing, though.”
“Wha…what is that?”
“In this relationship, I am the Master, and you are my…?”
I open my mouth, and the word sticks in my throat. Say it, do it.
He raises an eyebrow, and that’s all it takes. The force of his personality crashes on my chest; my breathing grows labored. My thighs clench, and it’s as if he’s drawing out the words, pulling on my response, tugging on every inch of my skin to say, “Slave.” I mumble.
“I didn’t hear you.”
Jerk. Sadist. Yeah, he's all that and I still want him. Which makes me what? A masochist. It makes me his...“Slave.”
My voice sounds strong. Like I am aware of what I am doing. Not. Not that it will stop me. I'm his to command, and he knows it. He can tell me to jump off a bridge and I’ll do it…I can give up my life for him if he asks me, and he hasn’t even touched me yet. The thought fills me with a strange satisfaction. The fact that I am his to do with as he wants. “I’m yours.”
He nods.
“Your slave,” I repeat. See? That was easy. My voice didn't even tremble.
His lips pull back, giving me another hint of those long, sharp canines. I gulp and draw in a breath. Okay, it's gonna be okay.
“And you’ll do as I say for the next forty-eight hours.”
The hushed tone in his voice books no argument.
He’s asking me to put myself at his disposal, to allow him to do as he wants with me. It goes against everything I have tried to stand for in my life. To hold my own against the stronger Fae who have surrounded me for so long. Yet there’s also a strange poetic justice to it. I have wanted to be one of them, wanted to fit in, and here it is. The chance to allow mys
elf to be subsumed by the most masterful of them all. My own Alpha Fae. My Master. My Dominant. Mine.
“You have no safe words. You can’t back out. You allow me to inflict what I deem necessary for your pleasure. You let me draw out your needs, your desires." His gaze surveys my features, "You also can’t speak."
“Not at all?” I frown.
“Well, in between our sessions, yes, though I plan to make sure you have no strength left to do much more than sleep and recover.”
O-k-a-y.
At least he’s telling me now, and not after this forty-eight-hour…what, torture? No...orgasm-inducing-interval in my life has started. “And during the sessions?”
"There are no rules."
“Huh?” I blink, trying to focus my attention on what he's saying.
“Did you hear what I said?” His voice is harsh, with an undertone of need. An answering lust licks at my veins. My pulse pounds at my temples and spots of black pepper my vision.
“Alice?” He snaps his fingers and I start.
"You're not listening to me." The words growl out of him and I drop my gaze to his mouth. Thin mean upper lip. Pouty lower lip. I want him to kiss me with it. Lick me all over, bite down on my nipples, between my legs. I clench my thighs. Take me. Mount me.
I wheeze out a breath. “No rules, you said?” I wet my lips, "What if... ah I wanted you to stop?”
"You said you trusted me. Did you mean it?"
Damn it, I knew that would come back to haunt me. I do trust him with my life, but can I trust him enough to be completely dependent on him?
I may have followed him to the BDSM club and spied on what he did to those women but I have never been at the receiving end of those whips, slaps...those kisses. My belly clenches. My nipples pebble. I want to find out what that feels like.
"Do you Red?" His hushed voice ripples down my spine, leaving little pinpricks of anticipation in their wake.
I shiver.
He has that entire ‘I am in charge’ thing going on here…not that Doc didn’t have that going on earlier. Only, he's turned it up a notch.
Seduced by the Fae Page 6