by Caris Roane
“No talking unless I say it’s all right.”
“Yes, Master.”
He moved to her right ankle and created a second binding. Then he did the same with each wrist. When he was done, she was spread out on the bed, her blond hair tumbled over the green silk sheet.
She moaned softly, her body writhing and waiting. She smelled like the lush gardens she created wherever she lived.
He positioned himself between her legs and sniffed her sex. His cock twitched. He licked a line up her landing strip then began teasing her with his tongue between her folds.
She gave a cry and he went to work. Taking her in his mouth he sucked until her cries were steady and she was close to coming again.
Then he sat back on his heels.
Her mouth was parted, her breathing ragged. He waited for her to calm down, wanting this last climb to the pinnacle to be intense.
“You may speak.”
“You’re killing me, Duncan. I was so ready.”
He smiled. “Good. You’re right where I want you.” He repeated the process, taking her to the edge over and over but not letting her finish, even when she begged him.
When he felt her reach the perfect blend of frustration and need, he took his cock in his hand. “Is this what you want?”
She was panting, her eyes wild. “Yes. Please, Duncan, I can’t take anymore.”
He drew close to her well and let her feel just the head of his cock, but didn’t push in.
“Are you sure this is what you want, Rachel?”
“Yes.” Her hips rocked on the bed. “Please.”
“What do you say?”
“Please, Master.”
Duncan loved having her in this position, begging him, fully aroused, her scent thick in his nostrils. “Then I’m going to give it to you.”
He began to ease into her and with each push, her chest rose and fell on a sharp gasp. It wouldn’t take much to make her come, so he took it slow, gliding into her warm wetness, and watching desperate sensations pass over her features repeatedly.
He drew his cock back over all the sensitive tissues, then plunged in quickly. Her whole body jerked and she cried out again. “Oh, God, that feels good.”
He loved sexing Rachel up, giving her this much pleasure with his cock, watching her head roll back and forth. And he loved the power he had over her, that she trusted him enough to let him do this to her.
He settled his forearms on either side of her head, holding himself up so he could continue watching her. He kept the rhythm steady.
She was right on the edge again.
He stopped and her brows drew together. “No, please. Duncan.”
He began to drive into her again, and a series of cries once more left her lips. “I want your throat. I want to be drinking from you when I come.”
She didn’t say anything, but rolled her head, exposing the pulse of her waiting vein. Keeping the thrusts of his cock steady, and from lots of practice, he angled his head, struck with his fangs, and tasted her rich-earth blood flowing into his mouth.
As soon as her blood hit his stomach, his power began to flow, both physical and what existed deep within his vampire soul.
Rachel, stay with me, be inside my head.
I’m here, Duncan.
Your blood is an elixir from the gods. I swear it. I’ve never felt so powerful.
Let me use my hands.
He released the bindings on her wrists and she embraced him, her hands stroking his shoulders, his arms, then his wing-locks. He arched from the pleasure and his hips sped up.
Her blood.
Her sex.
Her hands rubbing the sensitive apertures of his locks.
Rachel.
Bring me, Duncan. Bring me like fire.
His hips took over, moving faster still. The orgasm barreled down on him as his balls began to release his seed, pulsing through his cock. He grunted, even as he suckled. The pleasure was incredibly intense.
He heard her screaming as she dug her nails into his locks, adding to all the overwhelming sensations.
And he kept coming.
He thrust in and out of her, his body releasing a second time.
He felt her pause, then she was screaming again, holding him fiercely.
He dispelled the bindings on her ankles and she wrapped her legs around his hips.
Duncan, it’s never been like this. You’ve come more than once.
I know.
She was breathing hard, and he was sure she was weeping.
But his body revved up a third time, and once more he drove fast and hard. Her cries again echoed around the room, while her arms gripped his back, and her legs, his buttocks.
An entire galaxy of stars filled his head as the final orgasm streaked through him. He released her vein, rising up and arching his back. He roared his pleasure again and again.
He was breathing hard when he finally settled down on top of her. He was a big muscled man and didn’t want to crush her, so he sustained his position with his arms.
But he remained connected.
Her fingers stroked the nape of his neck. He shifted and found her lips, kissing her over and over. He didn’t want the moment to end.
But even as the thought went through his head, a very different, but very familiar sensation of panic rose within him. He couldn’t be this close to Rachel. He couldn’t stay in this position.
He started to pull back, but she caught him, gripping his shoulders hard. “Duncan, don’t. Look at me. You have to try.”
He shook his head. “Rachel, I can’t. You don’t understand me. You never have.”
“You said you would try.”
“This thing,” he lifted up and put a hand to his chest. “It’s like a snake that keeps biting. I can’t be close. I can’t.”
And without another thought, Rachel let him go.
But he didn’t know why. Usually, she pushed him and argued.
~ ~ ~
Rachel was stunned. Yes, Duncan was building his wall, but this time he’d just said more to her about what he was feeling than during all the on-and-off times they’d been together.
She’d heard the panic in his voice as though it had echoed down the years.
“What happened to your mother?” she asked.
He made eye-contact, another unusual response. “Why are you talking about her?”
“Did she die?”
“I … I don’t know.”
“What did Carlyon tell you?”
“That she never wanted to see me again.”
Oh, God.
She could sense his pain as he left the bed and moved into the bathroom.
And for the first time since she’d been involved with Duncan, she didn’t just lash out at his withdrawal. She didn’t exactly understand why she wasn’t yelling at him right now. But she thought it might have something to do with her own part in their fighting-drama.
She realized that the profound events moving through her life were having an effect on her soul as much as they were continuing to shift the path of her life. Her new powers, for whatever reason, were forcing her toward Duncan, to be with him, to engage with him.
And something within her stopped fighting.
Folding a washcloth into her hand, she pressed it between her legs for a long moment, then put it in the hamper. Duncan had released at least three times into her. Unbelievable.
She heard the shower running.
I’m sorry, he sent.
It’s okay, Duncan. It is and I’m still here.
What? His voice within her mind sounded incredulous. Why?
Yep, she’d had her own pattern and role through the fiery battles of their former love life.
Without warning, a familiar rumbling sounded and this time, she knew she had to act fast. She folded first to the shower then surrounded Duncan with her shield.
“Wreckers,” she whispered.
He grew very still.
A moment later, wrecker
s broke through to the bedroom and a series of explosions, one after the other, no doubt blew her bed apart and maybe even took out the wall as well.
Time to get the hell out. Take us to the forest, she sent.
A wrecker appeared in the doorway of the bathroom just as Duncan folded her a few feet into the edge of the forest. She then folded the quilt from the guest room straight into her arms. Duncan took it from her and wrapped them both up.
“The guns,” he whispered. “Where did you leave them?”
She held out both hands and they appeared in her arms along with the ammo. He took them from her and settled everything on the ground, once more embracing her and holding her close.
The wreckers never stopped firing. She watched her house slowly being demolished, as explosions took out wall after wall.
An alarm sounded over the entire colony.
“We’ll never be safe,” she murmured.
“Actually, I think there’s something I can do.” He told her about the mind-link and his learned ability to control it. “I believe Yolanthe has been using it to locate me through the darkening grid. I thought maybe I would be able to manipulate the situation by keeping the link intact in order to get more information about Chustaffus. But I see now that she’s used the connection to find us, or more particularly you with the intention of taking you out. I’m going to destroy the link right now.”
Rachel watched him close his eyes. She wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing, or how he intended to disrupt a link only the creator, according to Endelle, could break.
But she also experienced the exact moment he succeeded because his whole body tensed then he dropped to his knees, taking her with him.
“Pain,” he murmured.
“I can tell.”
“It … will be … all right. It’s over.”
As the roof of her house began to cave in, the explosions finally stopped.
Duncan eventually rose to his feet and she joined him. “What happens now?”
“We go after the bitch.”
“How? The woman lives on Third Earth.”
“But she’s the key to saving Second Earth. From this point forward, we go on the offensive.” He turned toward her, “The question is, will you be joining us?”
She searched his eyes. “Do you want me to, Duncan? Because I can promise you, if I join up, we’ll be getting closer whether you like it or not, and at some point you’re going to have to start talking, like you did just a few minutes ago.”
He looked confused. “What do you mean a few minutes ago?”
For the first time since she’d known Duncan, Rachel saw a hint of daylight. “You told me Carlyon had said your mother never wanted to see you again.”
He narrowed his gaze, frowning slightly. “I did, didn’t I? But I swear, until I spoke the words out loud, I’d never previously recalled him saying that. I was very young when my mother left.”
“I’m sure you purposely forgot a lot of what happened.”
“I must have. Carlyon was a brute.”
Rachel stared at the man she’d come to know so well over the years. She didn’t exactly understand why this was the moment to make her decision, but it was. “I’m joining the team, Duncan.”
“What?” He looked shocked all over again.
“I’m joining the team. Maybe it’s not my first choice because I do know what kind of life I want to live. But apparently, I’m not meant to have what I desire just yet, maybe not until the war is over.” When the leader of the colony, Diallo, and his wife, Mei-Amadi appeared in the backyard calling for her, she added, “And I definitely can’t continue jeopardizing my neighbors like this.”
“No, I guess not. But, Rachel, I’m really sorry about your house. Hell, I’m sorry about everything.”
“Me, too.” She forced herself not to think too much about the loss, at least not right now. She’d break down, otherwise. She needed to stay focused on the reality that she was being hunted by a madwoman.
When Mei-Amadi kept calling for her, Rachel asked Duncan, “Hey, can you fold us some clothes from your Paradise Valley home? Mine just got blown up and all I would need from you is one of your t-shirts since it will hang to my knees.”
“You got it.”
Barely a minute later and dressed in one of Duncan’s black t-shirts, Rachel released her shield and called to Mei-Amadi. She had a lot of explaining to do to the woman who’d never quite accepted her presence in the colony. But she’d also be leaving Mortal Earth for a long time, maybe even forever.
~ ~ ~
In a state of shock, Yolanthe stood near her pearl-colored chaise lounge, in the cream-and-rust marble of her living room.
The impossible had just happened: Duncan had broken her mind-link, something he shouldn’t have been able to do. And that act alone confirmed her belief Duncan had always been the key to finding Rapture’s Edge. He had so much power, more than he knew.
The game wasn’t over, however. She was a woman of great ability and power and the mind-link had been just the first expression of her will in this situation. She would get Duncan back or if she couldn’t, then the Second Earth bastard would die for having used her so badly.
After all, she’d offered herself to Duncan. All she possessed would have belonged to him, including her body and maybe even her heart. But he’d rejected her.
The fourth son of Chustaffus, Yolanthe’s younger brother and the son their father had thought long dead, paced slowly in his awkward gate. He moved back and forth, his deformed wings in need of yet another reduction, his distress clear. “What do you plan to do, Sister?”
His voice had a childish sound, even though he was nearly nine-hundred-years old, ten years younger than herself. He was the last child her mother gave birth to before Chustaffus had her killed.
Yolanthe had stolen the baby with the mangled wings and bribed the slave to say he was dead. Yolanthe still paid for the slave’s silence. She would have killed the woman outright, but then Chustaffus might have suspected Yolanthe’s treasonous act.
Her father hated anything deformed.
Zander wasn’t just a brother to Yolanthe. Because she’d reared him, even though she’d been a child herself, she felt as though Zander was her son. And she would do anything for him.
When she and Zander finally had the location of Rapture’s Edge they would go together and tell Chustaffus of their shared venture and success. Then Chustaffus would embrace his malformed son, and finally appreciate them both as having value in his life.
“What do I plan to do? I was going to ask you the same thing. Have you had a vision yet about their next move?” Zander had a powerful connection to the future. He was the one who had seen Duncan in a vision, not Yolanthe.
“A very brief one, involving the team Warrior Luken has built.”
“I suppose Merl will be part of the squad.”
“He’s always been faithful to you, Sister.”
“As faithful as a viper.”
“And now,” Zander said, smiling, “Will you tell me at last whether you intend to kill Merl’s sister or not?”
Yolanthe waved a hand. “He will always require proof-of-life to keep going so for now, the woman stays alive.”
“I suppose she must.”
“Just keep encouraging your visions, because I suspect Duncan is coming for me.”
“And that was always the chance you took in pursuing him.”
“I know, and you did warn me. But he’s still worth the risk.”
“Yes, but now he knows where you live.”
Yolanthe laughed. “But I would love to see him try to get anywhere near Mexico City Three and he just a Second ascender.”
“But not for long.”
“Very true. Not for long.”
~ ~ ~
Luken stood in the Militia Warrior workout center, his sword upright, knees bent, shoulders hunched.
Duncan did the same.
Time to start training the warrior who had visi
ons and a woman with at least one Fourth Earth power.
The first attack had both swords clanging, a shrill sound in the tall, three story room with echoing acoustics. In order to train him right, Luken had security remove the no-fold policy just for the work-out center. Part of battling as a Warrior of the Blood included calculated folds through instant moments of nether-space in order to come up behind the enemy unawares.
Duncan had made war for a long time, and he caught on fast. More than once, he’d taken Luken by surprise, folding behind him without Luken knowing and that was a damn hard thing to do.
Duncan worked out as well, like Luken did, pushing his muscle mass to tougher proportions. They were alike in that way, maybe each aware the future held nothing but the most dangerous situation possible: battling on Third Earth.
“So, you’re sure Yolanthe lives in a palace in Mexico City Three?”
Duncan breathed hard, recovering from the latest ten minute battling sprint. Sweat dripped down his face, and he folded a towel into his hand and mopped up. “She doesn’t live in the city. She is the city. She designed, built and owns Mexico City Three. She has hundreds of Militia Warriors in her employ and thousands of slaves. All do her bidding.”
“Do you have any influence with her?”
“Not anymore. The only way to save Rachel was to obliterate the mind-link.”
“Okay, then.” Luken nodded. “Ready for round eight?”
Duncan met his gaze and smiled. “Bring it, Warrior.”
~ ~ ~
Endelle hated herself for doing this, but if she didn’t, she’d fuck Merl, which would be a hundred times worse.
She lay on a bed in her very secret home in India Two, a place of heat and water and tigers. The latter roamed her secure home.
A man with black hair and dark skin and the tongue of a genius, worked her low. She wanted his cock, but she drew the line there, resigned to just having her pussy sucked and licked until she screamed.
He used implements as well in place of his cock, enhancing her pleasure and giving her a certain degree of satisfaction.
The whole time she wept as much from relief as from the horrible feeling she was being unfaithful to Braulio.
Yet, if she didn’t get this release at least once-a-week, she knew she’d fly into an uncontrolled rage and start burning her dimension down. The Council of Sixth Earth had kept her serving way too long, something that wouldn’t change anytime in the near future. She and her warriors had a new bad guy to beat.