by Opal Carew
He didn’t alter his pace or patience until she shuddered to a second conclusion under the grip of his hands. She gazed up at him, wild-eyed, her fingernails digging into his back, his waist, his name on her lips.
“Please, Master. Come for me.”
He gave her a nod, his gaze like the swirling gray-green clouds of an impending storm. His jaw tightened, then all those pleasing muscles shifted against her, hips flexing under her crossed calves.
“Yes…please,” she pleaded.
He let himself go then, gentleness and patience gone. Levering up her hips with bruising hands on her buttocks, he thrust into her harder. She wished those bruises wouldn’t heal so quickly, so she could see them in the light of day. She liked any mark he left on her.
I’d mark you head to toe if I could.
“You have,” she whispered as he brought his full weight down on her, curved his arms around her head while she curved hers over his back, hooked her hands on his shoulders so she could press her face close to his throat, feel his heart beat and the crashing pulse.
Even when he came down from that crest, he kept holding her close. He adjusted to the side, turned her to him, holding her in place with one proprietary hand cupped over her ass, the other over the back of her neck. They fell asleep that way, his breath stirring her hair, teasing the shell of her ear, her hands clutching his biceps.
Sometime during that sleep, they adjusted, so when she woke, she found she was curled in the curve of his body, his genitals against her buttocks, his chest against her back. It was around eight in the morning, her internal clock warning her she needed to get up and begin to prepare. Brian was in that sleep that sunrise inflicted upon him, and didn’t stir as she held onto his arm wrapped over her, using it to help her turn over and look at him.
It was a difficult shelter to leave, but she knew her responsibilities. Plus she needed the bracing reminder of her usual routine. Brian had been kind to let her sleep with him. That quiet lovemaking, the playful anatomy lesson, was a balm on her raw heart, but she couldn’t afford to forget his indulgences and kindnesses were entirely on his own sufferance. He was the vampire, she was the servant. She couldn’t get in the habit of expecting such treatment, no matter his stated intent to make things different.
Why not?
She silenced her sullen inner voice, the one that Brian’s change in behavior had sparked. Brian had said he loved her. In the privacy of their shared minds, the physical moments they alone shared, that could all be well and good, but as good as it felt, she wasn’t going to let herself get carried away with it. As she’d told Jacob, in the end, love didn’t mean the same thing to vampires.
Though she had to admit, for the past few days, he’d not only lived up to her hopes, but surpassed them. In the end, that could be more dangerous to her than no change at all.
No. She couldn’t think that way. It was only dangerous if she opened herself up too widely to possibilities that were likely futile.
Accept what is, expect nothing different. And definitely, always, live in the moment.
She touched his face. Eventually, he would reach an age where he wouldn’t sleep as deeply once sunrise happened. There were pros and cons to that. Good, in that he could touch her mind later in the morning when questions cropped up and she wanted to bounce ideas off him. Bad, in that she couldn’t have the opportunity to do this, simply touch him and know she was doing something only a full servant had the right and ability to do, watching over her Master as he slept.
Suppressing a sigh, she slid out of the bed, did a quick run through the shower, got dressed. Despite her gratitude for the extra sleep, she knew they needed to maximize their time here. She’d lost vital hours toward preparing for that. In addition to their research needs, she also had to address the things all servants coordinated for their Master or Mistress in a guest household. She needed to introduce herself one-on-one to Butch’s servant, Dix Conner, and visit the rest of the household staff to determine the set up for caring for her Master’s needs. That included finding out the daily schedule, to ensure they were courteous guests.
Like most vampires, Brian assumed his servant would handle such matters, though fortunately he was far less demanding in that regard. Most of his needs in any new environment related to his working conditions, which meshed with her own requirements, since her primary role was working alongside of him.
Part one of her plan, introducing herself to Butch’s servant, would have to wait. The housekeeper told her Dix was out in the pastures with the other hands, moving cattle. Definitely a far cry from servant responsibilities at the Council estate, though Jacob did pitch in on home maintenance and landscaping at times, because he had skills in that area and enjoyed exercising them.
The only other high level servant she knew who was employed in that type of labor was Dev, Debra’s second favorite servant in the whole world. His Mistress, Lady Daniela, lived in Western Australia, on a sheep farm with thousands of acres. Dev was often gone during the day or out working on the compound. When Brian and Debra had visited them there, Dev had taken her to see the sheep one morning, let her witness a shearing. He’d twirled a sheep on her hips like she was dancing with him. Dev divested her of her coat so quickly it was no more than a trip to the barber shop to the animal, sent back out to pasture with a new, cooler haircut.
Since Dix wasn’t available, she went in search of the housekeeper. Yolanda, a quiet Mexican woman with expressive dark eyes and a mouth set in a straight line, was also the cook, so she provided Debra the necessary information about dinner plans. “We’re expecting six of them tonight, including Lord Brian and Butch. We’ll set up in the main dining room.”
Four vampires other than Butch and Brian. Not a large number, not by Council standards. It should have quelled the tension in her stomach, but she hadn’t yet heard the guest list. Maybe the one she feared wasn’t on it. A vampire didn’t reach overlord status without being a force to be reckoned with, but Butch didn’t seem overly hung up on formality. When Brian had introduced her last night and she’d bowed with a respectful “my lord”, the gray-eyed vampire who looked like he could wrestle bulls to the ground had chuckled.
“Just call me Butch, miss. Lord Butch just doesn’t have the right ring to it. And while my given name Caleb works well enough, barely anyone calls me that, so I wouldn’t even know to be listening for it.”
“Who will be in attendance?” She tried to sound casual, but when Yolanda glanced down, Debra realized she’d clenched the fingers of her right hand into a ball.
“Just three vampires from his territory, senorita. Plus Lord Graham, the California overlord.”
Her nails cut into her palm, drawing blood. “Thank you,” she said. Yolanda gave her a quizzical look, but Debra nodded and withdrew. As she moved back through the halls toward the study Butch had given them to set up for their work, she realized her shoulders were tense as a board and she was hesitating at corners or when passing closed doors. It was broad daylight. Damn it, she should be past this rabbit-like behavior when it came to Lord Graham. Or any vampire.
Vampires were always unpredictable. Any sensible servant eschewed overfamiliar behavior with them, even if they seemed eminently approachable, like Butch Dorn. But she admitted she’d liked him on sight, whereas she’d been repulsed by Lord Graham from the first time they’d met.
It had been at her first Vampire Gathering. He’d latched onto her inexperience, her discomfort with all of it. Brian’s status then had been far less, and Graham was significantly older, around four hundred fifty. Strength grew with a vampire’s age, and might equaled right in the vampire world. A visiting vampire with seniority and greater strength could avail himself of the servant of a lower ranking vampire. However, most vampires observed an unspoken courtesy, only enjoying the pleasures of that servant where the servant stayed in view of, and essentially under the command, of the Master or Mistress. The exception at Gatherings were the lowest echelon servants who were recruite
d to be valets, wait staff and domestics for the duration of the event. Fortunately, Debra had avoided that. Mostly.
Lord Graham had cornered her in a hallway of the estate where the Gathering was held. He’d stopped her with a casual wave, his gaze sweeping over her.
“A pretty young thing. Lord Brian’s servant. New to all this, aren’t you? Your first Gathering?”
“Yes, my lord.”
When he reached out toward her, she’d jumped, unable to help herself. He’d chuckled. “A little nervous. Nervousness implies resistance, and your job isn’t to resist, is it?”
He’d waited patiently for her dutiful “No, my lord.” Then he’d drawn her to him. She’d been holding an armful of files from the Council archives she’d intended to scan to digital media, but he had her set those on the floor. Then he pulled open her blouse with as much subtlety as a punch in the face. Most vampires enjoyed arousing a servant, which initially had been one of the hardest things for her to handle at these events, since she’d felt she was betraying her loyalty to Brian. She didn’t have that worry with Lord Graham. Her skin crawled at his touch.
Tearing the front joining point of her bra, careless of the expense of the garment, he’d fondled and squeezed her breasts as if considering the selections of a fruit bowl. She’d stiffened, almost drawing away, but she’d stopped herself. Not quickly enough. He’d noticed.
Graham was her first experience with a vampire with an overdeveloped sadistic streak. He enjoyed “initiating” new servants, exploiting their inexperience like a Viking raider taking a virgin. Since Debra had never been able to find a consistent level of comfort with such things, every time they met, it was like she was new candy to him once more.
That horrible day, he’d stood in the hall, making her stay still as he pinched her nipples to hardness, kept playing with them. During a Gathering, the meeting locale was filled to overflowing with other servants and vampires, so the eyes of passersby were upon her. Several vampires stopped to talk with him. She was revolted, but averted her gaze to the open space past his shoulder. Enduring.
“None of that.” He pinched her roughly enough to earn a gasp, her eyes snapping back to him. “You keep your entire focus on the vampire you’re serving, girl. While keeping your gaze at my feet.” He leaned in, his breath on her ear. “I can tell when you’re paying attention.”
He’d had her pick up the files a few minutes later, but he hadn’t dismissed her as she’d hoped. He’d taken her off to a side hall, out of the flow of foot traffic. It quickly became obvious he removed them to the quieter spot for his own concentration, not to spare her any humiliation. Pushing her to her knees, he made her keep the files on her thighs, her hands locked on them like a form of restraints. Then he shoved his cock in her mouth and made her service it until he jetted. When he did, he pulled out, spilled himself on her face and her breasts, splattering the files.
Zipping up, he patted her on the head like a cocker spaniel and nodded. “I’ll look forward to seeing you again.” He said it almost kindly, but she saw the avarice in his eyes. “You’re a sweet morsel.”
She’d struggled to her feet after he left, mopped her face with her torn blouse, then gone back to the wing of the lab where Brian wasn’t. She’d thrown up a couple times, scrubbed off with topical until she gave herself a rash, and scanned the files into the database before she threw the copies away.
Up until that time, she and Brian had spent so much time traveling, she hadn’t had to experience many interactions with other vampires, and certainly nothing like that. As a result, she lived in terror of a future encounter, and especially of the next Gathering. Fortunately, Graham wasn’t in attendance at the next one. But Lady Lyssa and Jacob were.
It was her second meet with Jacob at a formal event. Largely because of his efforts and Dev’s, she started to realize the public sexual requirements of servants could be pleasurable, with the right perspective and focus. Though she always had that flush of nerve-wracking panic where she thought “I can’t do this”, she got through. The negative feelings only returned at the end when, her heart rate still racing from her climax, her body vibrating, she watched other servants return to the sides of their aroused Master or Mistress to reap the rewards of serving their desires so well. All while hers was off in his lab, assuming she was taking care of her servant duties in a way that reflected well upon him.
She’d learned to deal with that sense of emptiness that came at the end of a climax where he wasn’t watching, listening, participating. Yet it was so much easier when he was there. It was actually genuine then, how aroused she became with his eyes on her, his commands in her mind. Everything she did, or was done to her, was at his pleasure.
Him being present or not, her service at a public event was part of being a servant. A part she thought she handled passably well now, except for Graham. Fortunately, she only had to interact with Graham on rare occasions. But when those occasions happened, she knew it was going to be terribly unpleasant when he caught her alone. Not if. He made sure of that.
She guessed she should count herself lucky he’d never tried to fuck her. That wasn’t to spare her, though. If the vampire master in question wasn’t involved in the decision, even a lower-ranking one like Brian, it crossed the official lines of etiquette.
If Graham had ever made that demand and Brian agreed, she thought that would have been the end for her, her soul simply collapsing in on itself.
It could still happen though, couldn’t it? Tonight, even.
Stop it, she told herself. Stop borrowing trouble.
For one thing, Graham had never done any of it in Brian’s presence. With that hateful vampire intuition, he’d obviously figured out she coped better with Brian close.
But though Butch’s place was a nice-sized estate, it wasn’t the maze of hallways of the Council compound or a Gathering locale. She tamped down the tight ball of apprehension in her stomach. If she could stay with Brian throughout the evening, then Graham shouldn’t succeed in getting her alone.
She could tell herself Graham was no different from any other vampire, but he gave her a sense of dread and fear she couldn’t hide, and he exploited it. He was a sexual predator.
Given that vampires were the top predator in the food chain and their servants were essentially sex slaves when they wanted to exercise their libidinous nature, it sounded laughable, but she knew she was right. Most other servants were experienced enough to please him without setting off his sadism trigger, but in those breakfast discussions, it was clear he was no one’s favorite. No one else seemed to fear him as she did, though. She wished she had their fortitude.
She set her jaw. She did, damn it. She was an accomplished scientist as well as a dedicated vampire’s servant, and damn good at both jobs. She’d had a few weak instances these past couple of days, and her Master had indulged them, but it was time to prove herself worthy of that consideration, the way Jacob did with his Mistress. He didn’t whine and moan about this kind of thing.
Arriving in Butch’s spacious study, her gaze swept the room. It was decorated in western colors and masculine appointments, like the vast main desk, long sofa and five large flat screens where he could mix and match simultaneous viewing options. She’d requested a couple folding tables and they were already here.
Pushing aside her worries about the evening, she got down to work. It didn’t take too long to lay out everything, but once she opened up her laptop and Brian’s side by side, there was email to check and reports to download from the Alabama and Berlin facilities, as well as from the teams they had out in the field. Answering questions via video chat, compiling data, studying results and making her notes kept her busy for quite some time.
As a result, when the sound of a cleared throat at the study door had her lifting her head and looking around, she was surprised to realize it was mid-afternoon.
Dix Conner was standing in the doorway. The rangy, sunbaked man looked every inch a true cowboy in his dusty boots and
jeans, a holstered knife at his belt and a pair of battered work gloves tucked in his waistband. His open-necked cotton shirt was stained with sweat and clung to his tough body. He smelled not unpleasantly of grass, horses and cows.
She’d had a brief look at him last night, but here it was evident what a good match he was with Butch. Butch Dorn was tall and magnetic, a broad-shouldered big man with piercing gray eyes and a thick silk mane of dark hair, saved from prettiness by his rugged features. Though a human lost most scars when turned to a vampire, she’d noted a unique trait to Butch. Though his skin hadn’t seen sun in almost three centuries, he was nearly as tanned as Dix. It was as if the sun had been stamped on him, as much a part of him as blood and bone. The Texas outdoor life suited both of them, even if Butch only experienced it at night.
“Yolanda said you might need some food,” Dix said.
He was carrying a couple thick sandwiches and what appeared to be homemade potato chips, still warm and fragrant from the oven. “Figured I’d come share lunch with you and find out what you’re going to do to the big lab rat tonight. Butch also wanted me to go over any info I can give you up front before we have to deal with that pointless waste of time known as dinner.”
“That’s very kind.” She gave him an appreciative smile. “I am sorry about that. Honestly, I think Brian would have been just as happy to focus on his work and have takeout.”
“Amen to that. But don’t worry. I wasn’t pinning this on Lord Brian.” Dix waved a hand and pulled up a chair on the other side of the small table so they could both eat. “Butch knows some things you have to do when it comes to vampires, just to remind everyone of their place in the scheme of things. Vampires who get too informal and unstructured tend to start walking outside the lines. Hope I didn’t offend.”
“You couldn’t possibly,” she said, and he grinned at her graciousness, pushing a few more chips her way.