by Rachel Lee
Then it was her turn, and she was certain he didn’t miss an inch of her either. When he had her bend so he could attend her bottom the way she had washed his, she felt so exquisitely exposed and so perfectly cherished that she thought her knees would give way from the pleasure.
Then at last he scrubbed her womanhood with a surprising roughness, but the roughness turned out to be welcome, pouring more heat through her veins.
No one had ever learned her this intimately. Ever.
Then he washed her hair and his own, and they took turns standing under the spray until all the soap was gone.
“Are you okay?” he asked her, taking her again in his arms.
“I’m wonderful.”
He smiled. “You certainly are.”
He moved quickly then, turning off the water and stepping with her onto the mat. Then came a new form of delightful torture as he scrubbed her dry with clean towels and squeezed the last of the water from her hair. He wasted a lot less time drying himself.
At this point she’d have walked into the bedroom naked to be bound without a single bit of hesitation. She hadn’t guessed she could sustain such a fever pitch of desire for so long, but somehow he kept her there on a high plateau, every inch of her begging for more.
He draped one of the white robes over her. Only when she was wearing it did she realize that it was two pieces of cloth joined at the shoulders and the waist by ties.
So easy to remove. And his appeared to be just the same.
He took her hand. “Are you ready, Caro?”
She wondered how she could be any readier. She would have gladly fallen on the damp bathroom floor to be taken by him right now. The ache between her legs had grown hard and insistent, throbbing in a way that demanded an answer. How could she want this any more?
“Yes,” she whispered, all she could manage.
He led her slowly into her bedroom, then guided her to lie down on her bed. One by one, he bound her wrists and her ankles, snugly but not painfully, and a new spear of hunger shot through her.
As she lay there, rendered helpless by his bonds, it occurred to her that there was plenty to be said for bondage. She needed to make no decisions—she needed only to experience. It filled her with an even deeper hunger and a delicious sense of freedom.
Damien lit every candle in the room, creating a ring of fire and ring of warm light, bright yet cozy. The candles also helped warm the room even more and kept Caro’s damp hair from feeling chilly around her face.
Then Damien returned to her, his own face looking slumberous with passion, and he reached for the ties at her shoulders.
Her heart quickened, and she drew a breath. Almost instinctively she tried to pull her hands closer to her body and found she could move them only a few inches.
“See?” he murmured. “You are truly helpless to my whims. I promise you will like them, even the unexpected ones.”
Before she could wonder what he meant, he pulled the robe down to her waist, exposing her breasts. She wanted to squirm as the lack of control warred with passion in her. He took one of the vials and sprinkled the contents onto his hands. Then he knelt on the bed, straddling her, and began to rub her with oil, starting just behind her ears and working his way slowly down.
She caught her breath again as her skin seemed to heat. The clenching at her core renewed with a vengeance. Every stroke of his hands painted her with fresh fire, filling her with need.
She felt her nipples harden before he even reached them. She felt her labia swell with eagerness, and then grow damp. She was ready, so ready, but he had just begun.
When his hands at last found her breasts, she thought she would come right then. Almost, but not quite, as he traced her over and over, working the oils into her skin, ratcheting her need to heights she had never imagined.
Then he astonished her by pinching her nipples. At first she cried out, shocked by the sharp pain. But pain quickly gave way to a new kind of pleasure, and with each pinch and twist of his fingers, her hips began to rock in helpless rhythm, needing, no, demanding, more.
But still he lingered, tormenting her in the most delightful way, refusing to hurry at all. She forgot everything except the touch of his hands and the endlessly building hunger within her.
* * *
Damien watched her succumb, his own pleasure mounting. The most exquisite torment of all was making himself wait, and he felt it in every cell. His staff was so swollen now it felt as if it might burst, but satisfaction was a long way away.
He gave himself up to the pleasure of drawing out her responses, teaching her new sensations, particularly of how pain could heighten pleasure. He had seen her initial shock when she’d felt him pinch her nipples, but now he pinched even harder and she writhed and groaned helplessly.
And there was more to come.
It had been millennia since he had devoted himself to a woman this way in this ceremony. He murmured the incantations and prayers under his breath so as not to disturb her, but he still remembered them as if it were yesterday. And what he remembered most from his tradition was that women were truly the source of the life force as no man could ever be. While a man played a role, a woman grew life to fruition in her own body as no man ever could.
This woman was full of the life force, and as a man he needed some of it for himself. He had other powers that he could now share with her, but he needed her strength flowing through him as well, the most important strength of all. As a vampire, he knew himself to have less life force than most.
He needed, first and foremost, to unlock that power in them both, to share it between them, and to do that he had to carry her so far beyond the mundane world that the key would turn in the lock all by itself.
He lost all track of time, but time didn’t matter. What mattered was the way she writhed so helplessly under his ministrations, and the way he responded to her arousal. They were headed to a place where time ceased to have meaning, where nothing would exist except themselves, their union and their mutual celebration of life.
She had such beautiful breasts, he thought as he massaged them and pinched them again. Not too large, not too small, firm yet soft to his touch. He paused to place a few drops of oil in her navel and then work them outward and upward.
He liked having her helpless, liked teasing her to an incredible pitch. A vampire in more ways than one, he soaked up her feelings as surely as he would have drunk her blood. They filled him and carried him along with her until her throbbing became his, her need enhancing his own.
Some instinct told him it was time. He pulled away the last of her gown, revealing her beauty in all its glory to his eyes. Exquisite. His own body responded with a gripping, hammering need.
Then he bent to oil her legs, starting at her small feet, rubbing between her toes, working the muscles and joints gently until she arched with pleasure. Working his way slowly up and down her legs, he watched the thatch of hair between her legs grow dewy, filled his nose with her scents, so erotic now, and reached for paradise with her.
Finally, ages later, the moment had arrived. He parted her legs gently, turning them outward so that her lovely core was fully exposed to him.
She murmured something, but her eyes were closed, and he saw no resistance in her face.
Kneeling between her legs, so she could not clamp them together, he reached out with oiled hands and ran his fingers along her labia, first on the outermost part, drawing a deep groan from her. Again and again he repeated the caress, watching her swell for him. When at last her clitoris had engorged until it could no longer be concealed, he reached for a bundle of soft leather thongs.
Swinging them gently, he slapped them against her most tender flesh. Her eyes flew open, but her body bucked helplessly. He waited a moment, giving her a chance to object, but she didn’t.
He swung the thongs repeatedly, lightly until she was rising to meet them as if she wanted them. Then he swung them a little harder, knowing they would sting.
Again her eyes widened. “Damien...”
“I can stop, but I don’t want to,” he answered.
She looked at him, drowsy, inflamed, unsure, but then her eyes fluttered closed.
He whipped her again, harder, and a deep groan escaped her. With each flick of leather, he throbbed himself, in time with her pleasure, feeling her need grow. He didn’t know how much longer he would be able to hold out himself, but that was the point.
* * *
Caro could scarcely believe she was allowing herself to be whipped in this most intimate fashion, but disbelief gave way quickly to the incredible pleasure every stroke of that leather brought her. Stinging, yet good, carrying her to a place beyond thought and time until all that existed was the ache he kept building with every stroke. Her internal clenching grew painful, more painful than the strokes of that whip. At any moment she would...
Then he stopped. Before she registered that the stinging slaps were gone, she felt his fingers on her, stroking her, slipping inside her, feeding her frenzy with contrasting gentleness. Again and again he just barely rubbed her, opened her, then pulled away.
The next thing she realized, his mouth was on her, licking her every fold repeatedly, dancing around the most delicate bundle of nerves, a bundle that was begging for him. She felt his tongue enter her and arched up against him, wanting him deeper, wanting more, needing more, and desperate for any way he chose to give it to her.
She could no longer tell where she was, where she ended and he began. She existed out of time, in some place where there was nothing at all but passion, need, hunger, desire.
“Damien,” she heard herself groan as if from a distance. “Please...” Never before in her life had she begged.
She gasped as she felt him nip her clitoris, a pleasure-pain so intense she felt as if she had been launched from a catapult.
He murmured something and then, at last, he slid up over her, sliding into her all too ready and wet depths, filling her body, filling her soul. He pumped into her, slowly at first, giving her a chance to fully enjoy the feelings of union.
But then he speeded up, carrying her away, erasing everything from her mind but the point at which their bodies joined, making her forget everything except that intense concentration of feeling.
Up, up, until she could no longer catch her breath. Then with one deep thrust, he caused her to shatter into a million flaming pieces as if she had fallen right into the sun.
Stars exploded behind her eyelids, her body gave one last huge clench and then she fell into empty space, drifting as light as feather down.
Chapter 13
Caro returned to reality slowly. She discovered she was unbound and wrapped in Damien’s naked body as he cradled her close.
When she opened her eyes, the view over his shoulder told her the time. Nearly three in the morning? She felt a little shock, as she had certainly not been aware of how many hours had passed.
Her movement drew his attention. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“I’ve never been better,” she admitted frankly. “That was something else.”
A quiet laugh escaped him.
“Did it work?” she asked.
“On which level?”
“Power?”
“Oh, definitely.” He moved a little away from her and held up his arm. “See?”
Indeed she could. Those crackles of electricity she had before seen only around his fingers now danced along his entire arm. They vanished when he lowered it and drew her back into his embrace.
“Now reach out,” he suggested. “See if you’ve been enhanced.”
She did. It grew easier every time, and moments after she closed her eyes and sent her senses forth, she gasped. “I can see through Jude’s wards now.”
“It worked,” he said quietly. “We combined to create greater power in us both.”
“We combined to have one helluva time.”
He laughed, one of those rare laughs it always made her so happy to hear. “That we did,” he agreed.
Much as she didn’t want to move a muscle yet, much as she wanted to stay wrapped in him and savor the afterglow, she said, “We need to go hunting.”
“Indeed we do, but I’m not sure there are enough hours left. So relax a little while longer.”
“I thought you said this would take only a couple of hours.”
“Usually. But I wanted to share it all with you, and take my time. Are you angry?”
“Angry? How could I be after the most amazing experience of my life?”
“You make me happy, Schatz. Very happy. Thank you.”
“No, thank you.” She snuggled in closer, telling herself that if they didn’t have time tonight, they didn’t have time. He would know. “Will our power weaken by tomorrow?”
“No, it’ll last at least a few days. We’ll be as strong tomorrow night as right now. Ready to face a bokor.”
“So we won’t need to repeat this?”
Again he laughed. “We can repeat this anytime you want.”
That sounded suspiciously like a promise, but she warned herself not to take it that way. He’d already said he couldn’t give her what she wanted, that he would be returning to Cologne. She refused to think about losing him, though, because the mere thought of it made her heart ache.
Oh, crap, had she gone and given her heart to a vampire who didn’t want it? No, she assured herself. That wasn’t possible. It couldn’t have happened so quickly. No way.
No, she was just feeling the afterglow of the best sexual experience of her life. She was so very glad she hadn’t allowed fear to hold her back. Who would have thought that she’d respond in such a way to being bound and whipped?
The memory of the gentle whipping between her legs made her cheeks heat a little. No, that thought would never have entered her head. And now that she knew how it could make her feel, she was going to want a lot more of it. A lot.
Too bad Damien and his clever little whip would be leaving. Especially since she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to give anyone that much trust again.
She certainly couldn’t imagine having done this with anyone in her past.
Damien had opened entire new worlds to her in a short space of time, and as she rested against him, she honestly wondered what had happened to the woman who had wanted nothing more than to become a detective.
That Caro seemed to have vanished. She hoped it was only temporary, because after Damien left she was going to have to pick up the pieces of her real life. She certainly wasn’t going to become one of those women who ran shops full of esoterica simply because she had discovered the powers her grandmother had always told her she had.
But maybe she could find ways to use her newfound skills to solve crimes. At least then it might be easier to handle.
Jude seemed to make a business of this kind of thing. Maybe she could help him as she had time.
Then she realized she was planning for Damien’s departure. Her throat ached and her chest grew tight. She didn’t want to think about that now, didn’t want to be planning it. There was time left, and if she were smart, she’d set her sights on enjoying every last bit of it.
“Schatz? What saddened you?”
“Nothing.”
“I can smell it,” he reminded her.
“Damn your nose. It was just a passing thought. Nothing important.”
Without even looking at him she could tell he didn’t really believe her. She could almost feel him deciding whether to question her further. Maybe her senses were growing.
“If you’re worried about another death,” he said slowly, “we can at least hunt for the bokor tonight, although I’m not at all certain we’ll find him in time to confront him. Sadly, I have a limitation at dawn. It’d be very bad to get into the middle of the fight and then have to quit, giving him another day to prepare after he knows what he’s up against.”
“I get it,” she admitted reluctantly. “No, I see the point.”
“
Then?”
“Nothing. Truly nothing.” Because there was no way she was going to admit how much she wanted him to stay for a long, long time. How little she wanted to give him up.
He’d not only shown her new worlds, but he’d filled some emptiness in her that she hadn’t even known existed until him.
But what was that emptiness? Not having a lover? Not acknowledging her powers? Or a combination of both? She supposed she would get her answer only when he left.
“You know,” he said, distracting her from her morose line of thought, “I’d believed I lost my powers.”
“Really?” She tipped her face back to look at him. “Why?”
“Because I hadn’t been able to summon them for so long. I thought perhaps centuries of being a vampire had caused them to wane. Then when I’d been near you for a few days, I could feel them start to come back. I think it was being near your powers that reawakened mine.”
“Awesome. But I don’t have that much power.”
“You have a great deal more than you yet know. Since I met you I sensed it. Apart from your beauty, it was one of the first things to engage my attention. It was at a low level, to be sure, but it was there. You have no idea how long it’s been since I met someone with innate power.”
“There must be others. What about this bokor?”
“I don’t know if his power is innate, or something he’s built through spells and practice. There’s a difference. People like you just have it, whether you ever use it or not. I was like that once. Apparently I am again, thanks to you.”
“I’d feel a whole lot happier if I knew how to direct and use these powers. Right now it’s hit and miss. I’m never sure of what I’m doing or whether it’s right.”
“Close your eyes.”
She did so, wondering why.
“Now imagine this power of yours as a light at your very center. See it. Feel its heat.”
She tried, and gradually she could clearly envision a white flame at her center. And little by little she felt its warmth.
“Some need spells and incantations,” he said quietly. “Some use them for focus. Some use them to call upon powers they don’t have themselves but can summon. A mage like you needs no spells. In fact, you can make your very own if you concentrate. So now imagine that light flowing down your arm and out of your fingers. Feel it.”