by Ivy Barrett
His head dropped back on his shoulders, and he slowly pulled down on his balls. Was he trying to fight back his orgasm or intensifying the sensation? It didn’t matter. She needed to take advantage of his arousal and the energy generated by his release.
She slipped into his mind. Heat surrounded her, lashed through her, momentarily blinding her with their intensity. This was Drake. Beneath his discipline and control, he was a consuming flame! His energy flowed into her, freely offered and thankfully received.
More. Take more. Drain him dry! She used the intensity of his personality to force back the dark urge. She would never intentionally harm Drake or anyone.
A raw, strangled cry escaped his throat, and he came in rhythmic jets. Pleasure shoved into her, saturating her being along with his energy. Pale liquid arced toward her and showered the ground between her feet.
It took several moments for her to regain her composure. She fidgeted restlessly, the darkness barely contained.
He rubbed his shaft, passing his thumb over the flared head. “Did you enjoy the show?”
Chapter Eight
Drake could barely think through the ringing in his ears. He’d just shot his come into the grass and already his balls tingled with a new cycle of arousal. Miranda fidgeted a bit, her gaze warm and caressing. They’d departed a bit from their roles, but he couldn’t bring himself to release her, and she seemed to be in no hurry to be free.
“Thanks for indulging me, but I think I’m ready to participate now.”
“Are you?” He straightened his shoulders and schooled his expression. “As delightful as you look like this, I need you on your knees.” She glanced at his cock, and he chuckled. “Don’t try to anticipate what’s going to happen. Relax and let me guide you.” He spotted an exposed root perfect for what he had in mind and released the chain connecting her wristcuffs. “Kneel here and place your hands near this root.”
Without too much hesitation, she followed his directives. He looped the chain through the root then reconnected her cuffs. Her silky skin gleamed in the moonlight, and her dark hair streamed to the ground, partially obscuring her face.
“Have you ever been spanked by a lover?”
She shook her head. “I don’t see how people can find pleasure like that.”
“I’d like to show you. Can you trust me enough to try it once? If you honestly find no value in the exercise, I’ll never bring it up again.”
“I’m your captive. Do I really have a choice?”
He smiled, understanding her roundabout consent, but it wasn’t good enough for him. “You’ll always have a choice. Do I have your permission to use my hand on your ass?”
She shot him an impatient glare. “You’re not playing your part very well.”
“I’m enjoying the setting, but this is no longer a game. If we’re going to fuck, you need to understand what I need from a partner.”
“I understand…Sir.” She added the title after a quick pause.
“And you submit willingly?”
“Yes.” To make sure he believed her, she moved her legs farther apart.
Just the sight of her bold offering made his gut clench and his heart hammer. He wanted to kneel behind her and slam into her waiting warmth. Her initiation was too important for such a lack of discipline.
“You have a fabulous ass, soft and round yet tight enough to withstand a firm hand.” As if to illustrate his point, he brought his palm down against her behind. She yelped then went perfectly still. “Let me feel what you’re feeling.”
She pushed into his mind without her usual finesse. Her lack of composure pleased him greatly. Her mind was a maelstrom of conflicting emotions, pleasure and uncertainty, shame and enjoyment.
He focused her thoughts with another swat. Heat rolled across their mental link, slow and intoxicating. “Tighten your inner muscles, absorb the heat.” He gave her time to obey before he swung his hand again. He reached beneath her and rolled her nipples, first one and then the other. “Listen to your body. What are you feeling?”
“It stings, yet it triggers sensations in unexpected places.”
He lightly rubbed her pink ass, easing his thumbs deep into the crease between her silken cheeks. “You are so soft.”
“Why did you stop?” The question was so quiet he could barely hear her.
His heart leapt at her encouragement. He mustn’t rush her, even if she urged him on. He applied two more slaps to each side then let the heat spread. Her thighs trembled and her ass swayed gently from side to side.
If no one had spanked her, it was likely she’d never tried anal interaction. Dipping his fingers in the slick juice, he painted her crack and circled her tightly puckered anus. She gasped and started each time his finger passed over the “forbidden” opening.
“That really burns.” She passed the sensation across their link and Drake moaned. “See.”
“What I see is how easy it would be to make you come like this.” He pushed his middle finger into her ass and waited for the frantic spasms to still before he rotated his wrist and slowly drew out.
“Oh my God! Do it again.”
With a wicked smile, he obliged, pushing deeper than he’d gone the first time. Her passage gripped him snugly, her flesh unbelievably hot. He filled her and filled her, pushing in fast and drawing out slowly. She lowered her head to her hands and accepted the new form of stimulation.
“Come for me, Miranda. I won’t fuck you until you come.”
“I don’t think I can. It just feels so… I had no idea…”
He knew a few careful tugs on her clit would launch her into orgasm, but he wanted her body to learn other paths to completion. “Bear down, love. Squeeze me tight.” She arched her back and rocked onto his finger as her inner muscles worked. He pulled out completely and ruthlessly teased her opening.
“Touch me. Please just touch my clit and I’ll come.”
“No.”
Instead, he brought his hand down one last time as his finger thrust back in. She cried out and her body rippled. Thrilled by her surrender, he prolonged her release with the caress she’d requested before. He softly circled her clit while her body throbbed on and on.
Miranda trembled, afraid to move, half afraid to breathe. Drake caressed her ass, stirring echoes of the heat his spanking had generated. His fingers still slid in her crack, occasionally circling her anus, but the contact was soothing now, almost relaxing.
She knew men and women found pleasure in many ways. She’d seen people ass-fuck before she left Temple-Tuttle. Still, she’d never pictured herself chained to the ground, handprints glowing on her ass while her Master savored the aftershocks of her shattering orgasm.
“Are you going to take me like that?”
“You’re too tight. We’ll have to work up to it.”
Relief left her weak and sleepy. She turned her head to the side and let him play.
“Is there enough slack in the chain for you to turn over?”
“I think so, if I keep my hands above my head.”
He swept her up, rotated her body and placed her on her back. Then he arranged her arms at a comfortable angle. She bent her knees and made room for him between her thighs. He knelt in position, but went still as his gaze focused on her sex.
“Hold still. You do not have permission to come.”
She whimpered as he lowered his mouth to her pussy. Oral sex got her off faster and stronger than anything else. His tongue traced her slit, pausing to dip into her creamy opening each time he passed.
“Oh yes!” He slipped his hands beneath her bottom and raised her to his mouth.
The pressure against her sensitive skin sent a fresh wave of heat curling through her abdomen. He sucked on her folds, intentionally ignoring her clit.
“Hold perfectly still. If you come, I will punish you.”
She bit down on her lower lip to keep from screaming her frustration. He closed his lips around her clit and slowly sucked. “Stop! I can’t—”
“Fight it off. Gain control of your responses.” His mouth returned to the ultrasensitive bud as tears escaped the corners of her eyes. She clenched her fists and forced her inner muscles to relax. His lips released her and his tongue began to lick. He circled and flicked, driving her right to the brink again and again.
“I hate you!” she sobbed when he finally raised his head from between her trembling thighs.
“Do you?” Positioning himself at her entrance, he paused for a smile. “Do you hate all of me?” He circled like a ship in a holding pattern, nudging her clit at the top of each rotation. “I can’t go on until you beg me.”
She screamed then planted her heels in the grass and pushed up, trying to drive him into her core. “Fuck me, damn you!”
He caught the bend of her knees and pushed her legs wide. “I need the words, sweetheart. Tell me exactly what you want.” Approaching from below, he notched himself against her entrance.
“I want your cock inside me. Please fuck me hard. Fuck me now.”
“My pleasure.”
Deeper and deeper, he pushed into her pulsing core. Her walls spread, opened and clung. He moved his hands to her waist and stared into her eyes. When his entire length filled her, he paused for a long, passionate kiss. Her legs arched over his, her heels caressing his legs. He brushed the hair back from her face and took the kiss deeper.
He pulled his hips back, drawing his cock nearly out of her body. She squeezed him tightly and he felt her desperation, her need for the fullness and physical connection of their entwined bodies. With powerful thrusts, he filled her again and again. The fast, steady rhythm soon had her gasping and wild.
She raised her legs high against his sides and lost herself in the present. No past, no future, just this blessed, fleeting moment in time. Their mouths pressed and their bodies clung, each forceful lunge driving them closer to completion.
Energy sizzled along their link. She opened her mind to the transfer as she opened her body to his penetration. They melded, joining on a level most people would never understand.
“Now!” He sounded harsh and commanding.
She arched, wrapping her legs around his waist as pleasure exploded inside him. The hot, liquid spurts deep inside her triggered her final orgasm. She kissed him with possessive ferocity, not fully understanding the intensity of her response.
They collapsed into the grass. He had the presence of mind to roll to his side before he surrendered to sleep. She gave one amused tug on her wristcuffs then snuggled against his side.
* * * * *
“I think you should activate our mental link,” Drake told her several hours later. “If I sense any hint of danger, I’ll pull you out.”
Miranda stood beside the workstation in the living room. The emerald ring rested on a square cloth. The sparkling gem seemed to mock her. It was night again, and they were no closer to unraveling the mystery. That wasn’t exactly true. They had random facts and puzzle pieces. Drake had identified about half of the victims. The challenge was figuring out how everything they’d learned fit together.
Jericho had provided the items she requested, and it felt wonderful to be in new clothes. Her tailored black slacks were tasteful and the synthsilk blouse flowed along simple yet elegant lines. Despite his flamboyant occupation, Jericho obviously appreciated quality.
Dragging her gaze away from the ring, she realized the importance of what Drake had just suggested. “You can sense my emotions when our minds are linked?”
“Is that unusual?”
“Very. Many people sense the actual connection. They’re aware of a foreign presence in their mind. But you should only sense my emotions if I’m intentionally transmitting them.”
“Well, it’s not working that way between you and me.”
“Neither of your parents had mystic abilities?”
“No. My father was CCC, and my mother was a negotiator until she retired three years ago.”
“She worked with Ashton VinDerley?”
His expression tensed, and annoyance clouded his gaze. “She trained VinDerley. He was her protégée. What does all this have to do with scanning the ring?”
“I’ve sensed latent abilities in you since you walked in with Ritter. I have no idea why your mother would keep this from you, but it’s very likely she passed on her abilities to you.”
“But she doesn’t have any mystic abilities.”
“She does if she’s a negotiator. Never mind. It doesn’t matter.” She motioned toward the ring. “Having a safety net is a great idea. Let’s get started.”
She was well-rested, and her energy levels had never been higher. Reaching for Drake’s mind, she activated their connection. A contented smile curved her lips and heat rolled through her body. She’d exchanged energy and created psychic connections with countless people down through the years, but it had never felt so comfortable or so secure.
Are you ready? She sent the question directly to his mind.
Go for it. I’ve got your back.
She glanced at him and smiled. The realization was pleasant and he had communicated effortlessly, further proof that he was no ordinary enforcer.
Shaking away the tangent, she focused on the ring. The pain had intensified whenever she tried to pull away. Was success as simple as not resisting? She scanned the ring, bracing herself for the mental barrage.
The sex scene sprang to life within her mind, the images and emotions just as disturbing as she remembered. Rather than pulling back from them, she drove deeper, moving past the incident as quickly as she could.
Approval rained down upon her, warm and tingling. She hadn’t been sure if Drake would see what she was seeing. Apparently he would. Try not to react. I really need to concentrate.
Sorry.
Unable to savor his approval, she pushed deeper into the memories. Faces flashed through her mind. She let the images scroll until CJ Kaffee came into view. The action slowed. Despite her attempt to move beyond it, she was forced to watch the entire scene again.
This murder had affected Nicay more profoundly than the others. The memory was more detailed. A sense of urgency permeated the scene. As Kaffee flailed at Kwinton’s feet, Miranda searched for an exit, a hidden link to something more.
Darkness closed in around her. She intensified her scan. This couldn’t be all there was! A soft groan drew her attention to the fallen Wirtanen. Nicay snatched the employee ID card off the front of Kaffee’s uniform and stealthily tucked it up his sleeve. Kwinton hadn’t seen him take it. Nicay had made sure he wasn’t seen.
Encouraged by the new tidbit, Miranda ended the scan. Her connection to the memories eased, drawing her back toward the present.
Pain spiked through her brain, and she was sucked through a metaphysical vortex. Reality blurred. Pressure crushed her, forcing the breath from her lungs. She scrambled for an anchor, some way to resist, terrified that the violent suction would separate her mind from her body.
A plaintive moan penetrated the darkness. She focused on the sound and the sucking sensation eased. She inhaled slowly, reducing the burning in her lungs. Shapes formed within the gloom. She concentrated, analyzing the shapes and desperately searching for anything familiar.
The oppressive pressure receded, leaving her shaken and confused. Light came and went in sickening waves. Water-stained walls appeared first, followed by the details of a shabby room. Nicay lay on his side on a narrow bed, arms wrapped around his middle. He rocked back and forth, moaning.
She frantically reached for his mind. Where are you? We can’t help if we don’t know where you are.
He looked around the room, searching for something that would reveal his location. Hopelessness chased away his tenuous surge of determination. Too late.
No, it’s not! Just tell me how to find you.
Pasodertta 3-49.
What does that mean? I don’t understand.
He closed his eyes and slipped into darkness, severing the link.
&nb
sp; “Damn it!” Miranda shook away the last of the metaphysical haze. Drake stepped up beside her and pulled her into his arms. The embrace was welcome and surprisingly natural, but she only indulged herself for a moment. “Do you have any idea what he meant?”
“It doesn’t mean a thing to me. Let’s see if infoseek can help.”
It took a couple tries to get the spelling correct, but infoseek revealed that Pasodertta was a multi-building tenement reserved for employees on Wirtanen.
“Who occupies unit forty-nine of building three?”
“CJ Kaffee,” the computer told Miranda.
“I would have been surprised with any other answer.”
“What does Nicay gain by taking over Kaffee’s identity? That’s a serious downward trade.” Drake rubbed his chin as he often did when his mind was scrambling for answers.
“Blaze said Kaffee was missing. Nicay hasn’t assumed his identity. He’s just hiding out in his apartment.”
“I only get an echo of your impressions. Were you able to sense what was wrong with him?”
Sooner or later, she would get him to admit that he was empathic separate from her. His resentment of mystics needed to be put to rest. “I felt pain and desperation, but I wasn’t able to discern the cause.”
“Well, he was in pretty bad shape. We better get moving.”
“I’m supposed to be dead. We can’t go trotting off to Wirtanen without blowing my cover.”
“I’m well aware of that.” Drake rolled his shoulders. “There’s only one person I know who goes wherever he pleases without anyone batting an eye.”
“Are you about to add another line to your tab with Jericho?” She did her best to hide her smile, but it tugged at the corners of her mouth with stubborn determination.
* * * * *
“No fucking way!” Drake folded his arms over his chest and glared at Jericho. “I’ll figure out something else.”
“It makes perfect sense and you know it. Stop being so stubborn.”
“I need your cruiser. There is no reason for you to play chauffeur!”