by Zoey Marcel
Dakarai and Joaquin stopped for a moment and touched her swollen clitoris. Well, at that moment her finger was one of theirs. It didn’t matter which, only that she came from it. She felt her orgasm building, but before it blossomed, her eyes widened in mortification when she saw Joaquin leaning up against the doorframe, arms folded. She scrambled to stand and yanked the veggies from her holes. She’d already eaten the tomato, so no worries there, but he’d obviously just seen her copulate with produce.
His coal-black eyes twinkled with amusement and apparent glee over this excuse to reprove her. “What are you doing?”
“Making a salad.” Making a salad? Really? she thought. There really wasn’t a good cover-up for something like what he’d just witnessed her do.
His half smile mocked her. “In your pussy?”
She blushed, wanting to pull her pants up but hesitant to do so with olive oil smeared on her down there. “People put cucumber on their eyes. Why can’t I use it on my girly parts?”
“And what medicinal properties could a carrot up your ass possibly have? You lost, slave.”
“I didn’t lose. You said I couldn’t have sex or masturbate, but I didn’t. I just got creative.”
“That included fucking vegetables. Admit it, I won and you lost.”
Claire rolled her eyes. “Fine, you win. Now go off and gloat somewhere else. I need to wash this oil off of me.”
His eyes darkened. “Yes, you do. Follow me. Leave your pants down.”
His command annoyed her. She had to waddle like a freaking duck with her pants trapped around her ankles. He ordered her to undress once they entered the bathroom together. Would he finally take her?
“Get in the shower and turn the water on as cold as it will go.”
She hugged her body, already cold from the mere suggestion. “That’s going to suck!”
His unfeeling eyes laughed at her. “So does starving for three days in the name of competing fairly while your opponent cheats. Now get in the shower and wash.”
Claire stepped into the large shower and squealed when the frigid jets hit her skin. She stepped backward to avoid them, catching his disapproving look and raised eyebrow. She grimaced and got back into the icy line of fire. She soaped up and scrubbed her body in haste, rinsing swiftly before reaching for a towel.
“I didn’t tell you to get out.”
She groaned her exasperation and stood impatiently beneath the chilly water.
“You just earned yourself the privilege of a small writing assignment on respect,” Joaquin retorted.
She closed her eyes, refraining from stamping her foot or making any grumbling utterances in reply.
“Do you admit your defeat? That you’re a cheater and a bad slave?”
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“You won. I’m a cheater and a bad slave.” She felt his eyes weighing heavily on her before he spoke again.
“Turn the water off.”
She gladly did so, shivering on a level that bordered insane. Her body was numb with cold and slightly achy when she felt the cool air around her thawing her out. She got out of the shower, ignoring his annoyed look over her initiative without his orders. She grabbed a towel, heartbeat accelerating when he stood and yanked it from her grasp. Her skin started to come alive again as he rubbed her dry with the towel.
“You got out of the shower before I told you to, you lied to me in the kitchen and you cheated on our little contest. Do you seek to waste my time?”
“No, Master.”
“What do you suppose is at the root of your defiance?”
Claire racked her brains for the right answer but wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear. “I’m stubborn.”
“Undoubtedly, but that’s not why you continue to defy me. Try again.”
“Because you’re…”
He knelt to dry her cunt and raised his sinister eyes to hers. “Say it.”
“Diabolical.”
“You can’t accept me for who I am but demand that I accept you, because you think you’re better than me. What is that?”
“Pride,” she answered reluctantly.
“What else?”
“Disrespect.”
“Precisely. I want you to go downstairs and write seven things about me that are either positive or reflect my power over you, and before each I want you to write ‘I will not disrespect my Master because.’ And then write the reasons.”
“Yes, Master.”
* * * *
Claire sat alone at one of the round tables, collecting her words carefully. She had finally warmed up after her hellish shower and was now bundled up in a cozy sweater and jeans. Writing praises to someone who made her shower in ice water wasn’t natural for her, and she was tempted to doodle a tyrannical caricature of Joaquin out of spite. After chuckling over the vindictive thought and quickly deciding against it for fear of a worse punishment, she seriously contemplated her assignment.
Seven positive things about Joaquin that would move her to respect him.
Claire jotted down her seven reasons and read over the list, feeling her eyes sting and emotion pass through her heart. Every single reason she wrote was true. She only had one reason to disrespect him and at least seven to show him the respect he deserved, though she could have easily come up with more if he had required it. But at the root of it all was that last reason. That motivated her to want to stay with him, but if she didn’t treat him with at least the respect others showed him, why would he want to keep her around?
His bloodlust divided them and made him want to send her away, but maybe her respect for him could change his mind. Words weren’t enough. She needed to show him.
She sealed the paper in an envelope with his name on it and laid it on his pillow. Someday he would know just how much she cared for him. Someday he would believe she respected him once she gave him a reason to.
Claire headed back downstairs as her thoughts strangely turned to Rochelle. She had told the men about the eerie voice in the cellar and Rochelle’s image in the pickle jar. They wanted to send her away for her protection, but Claire insisted she was fine and no other paranormal occurrences had happened since. If that even was Rochelle, she could have easily hurt her in the cellar, but she hadn’t. Claire wasn’t worried. Her old friend didn’t even seem to be around anymore after that incident.
She smiled when she saw Nex come inside, frowning when she saw the distracted expression on his face. “What’s wrong?”
“I tried to go outside and I couldn’t.”
“Did you try opening the door?” she teased.
He gave her a “very funny” smile. “Aye, but when I tried to walk through it something stopped me. It’s like an invisible wall has been placed over the front and back doors. Something’s there and it won’t let me leave. Dakarai tried and had no success with it either.”
“That’s freaky. Let me try.”
He tugged her arm to stop her and sniffed the air with a low growl.
“What is it?”
“Death, it surrounds us.”
Fear crept along her skin and she heard Dakarai yell frantically from somewhere, “Run!”
She turned in time to see a small army of skeletons march into the main room where they stood. The living bones wielded weapons and appeared grim and foreboding. Most of them were human, but one of the skeletons was a wildcat of some sort.
“Claire, I want you to run,” Nex told her quietly. Then with a grin he added, “The wildcat is mine.”
“I won’t leave you.”
Dakarai burst into the room with a sword and clanged it against one of the skeleton warriors’ own swords. “Do as he says, Claire!”
Joaquin came into the room and his jaw dropped when he saw the undead army. “What the fuck?”
The skeletons charged and the men battled with the reanimated army of death.
Joaquin shoved Claire out of the way and lowered his fangs. “Get down in the cellar and stay there!”<
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“No! I want to help.” She kicked at a walking pile of bones, horrified by his perpetual, evil smile as he smacked her hard in the face and attempted to strangle her. This had to be Rochelle’s doing, but how the blazes was that possible? Where could the once-living woman have learned the art of necromancy?
Joaquin kicked ass, but several skeletons ganged up on him at once and one stabbed him with a wooden stake. His cry of pain haunted her.
“Joaquin!” She kicked the skeleton holding her down in his pelvic region, wishing he still had his genitals so it would hurt him, but he didn’t seem too fazed by it. She grabbed a broom and whacked him in the head with it a few times, managing to push him away long enough to grab Joaquin.
“I can’t leave them alone,” he ground out through clenched teeth as blood seeped through his shirt.
“You’re hurt. We need to get you out of here.” Claire stumbled into the cellar with him, locking the door shut as a mob of skeletons tried to follow but couldn’t. She helped him down the steps and laid him on an old blanket on the floor. He was still alive, but the sight of so much blood on him moved her to tears.
“It’s all right. He missed my heart. I’ll be fine. I heal quickly.” Joaquin nodded, looking over her shoulder. “Look.”
Claire turned to find the trapdoor opened and completely void of bones when she shined the light down there. “She reanimated them. Rochelle had to have done this, but I don’t know how she could—” Her eyes widened when she saw the spell book lying on a barrel. “Isn’t this the spell book Cory brought over here to cast her out of me?”
Joaquin nodded. “The idiot must have left it here. There’s probably some kind of spell on necromancy in there that she used to raise them.”
“But this isn’t even in English. She couldn’t have read it unless there were notes in English on the side.”
“There was an English title on the one Cory used on you. Maybe there was on this spell too.”
Claire hurried over to Joaquin when he sat up on a crate, pressing on his wound. She whipped her sweater off and covered his injury with it. “Here, hold this.”
“I don’t want to ruin your shirt.”
“Too late. Just buy me another one when this is over.”
He winked at her with a perverted smile when he saw the cleavage being pushed upward by her pretty bra. “Is that the only reason you took your top off?”
She snickered and shrugged. “Whatever could you mean? Your eyes are purple.”
“I’m just really hungry.”
“You would heal a lot faster if you had something to eat.”
“Obviously, but that isn’t an option for me.”
She stood and tilted her neck to the side. “Yes, it is.”
His eyes flickered with hunger. “We’ve been through this. I’m not going to feed on you. It’s too dangerous.”
“Damn it, you haven’t eaten in three days and you have a gaping chest wound and you’re lecturing me on danger? You need your strength if you’re going to help fight these things off.”
“The answer is no.”
“Fine, then while you’re teetering between weakness and insanity I’ll just go upstairs and help the guys fight these things off in your place.”
“You will do no such thing!” he shouted. “Your ass stays right where it is.”
She unhooked her bra and slipped it down her arms, watching his eyes become wild with need. Pleased that she had his attention, she slowly unfastened her jeans and stepped out of them, left wearing only her panties and fuzzy socks.
“We’re in the middle of an invasion and you want to get your freak on?”
“No. I just don’t want to get blood on my clothes.”
He looked at her seriously, eyes filled with warning. “I’m not feeding on you.”
She locked eyes with him and defiantly allowed her nail to morph into a claw just long enough to slit the skin over her right breast. She felt blood pool to the surface as his nostrils flared.
“You crazy bitch!” He covered his nose with his free hand as his eyes lightened to burgundy.
She strutted over to him and pushed her tits in his face so the scent of her blood would waft up his nostrils. “Drink. You need your strength, you stubborn leech.”
He turned his head, gritting his teeth in frustration. “I’m going to flog your ass later for this, and you won’t be going into subspace this time, just pure misery.”
“Fine, just drink.” She slapped his face when he refused to look at her.
His low, menacing growl coincided nicely with the harsh warning looming in his eyes. “You’re going to get it if you keep pushing me.”
“You won’t hurt me. I trust you.”
“Then you’re a fool. If I taste your blood again, I won’t be able to stop, and this time Dakarai isn’t here to save you.”
He meant it as a warning, but it sounded like a threat and she shivered. “You’ll stop. I know you will. Just take what you need. I heal fast too.”
“Not if you’re dead.”
“Bite me, you son of a bitch!” She slapped his groin hard, startled by his feral snarl and the way his eyes flashed with rage.
He grabbed her by the wrists, but her boobs were only that much closer to his hungry mouth. He sniffed her blood with a predatory sound and flicked his tongue against the slit she’d made on her breast.
Claire gasped, surprised to feel the warm flow of moisture seep from her pussy over having Joaquin taste her blood. She’d enjoyed the blood play with Nex in the courtyard as well. Maybe she was even more twisted than she thought.
Joaquin’s lips puckered and closed in over the cut as he gently suckled the blood from her. This was about giving him strength so he could heal faster, but damned if her cunt wasn’t pounding hard with lust from this. Her breathing increased and she was certain he became aroused by the helpless sound of desperation.
“I can hear your heart beating,” he whispered darkly. He lifted his head and his eyes flashed to bloodred. His fangs dropped and his eyes glowed red and demonic as he pushed her up and sank his teeth into her neck.
Claire gaped in shock at the piercing bite as he punctured her fragile skin with his razor-sharp fangs. The agonizing pain would have made her scream, but the breath seemed to have escaped her lungs in the moment she needed it most. She could feel her blood flowing submissively into his mouth as he drank her life essence. The pain was too much and she wanted him to stop but supposed she could muddle through it if it gave him the strength he needed to carry on.
When he wrapped his arms around her and knocked her to the ground beneath him, she wasn’t so sure.
She felt the growing bulge in his jeans crammed against her damp panties and grew incredibly hot from it. She raked her fingernails gently over his back and ran her other hand through his dark-brown hair. She started to feel cool and wondered if he was overdoing it. Her fingers tightened in his hair and she tried to move, but he didn’t budge. It was a helpless feeling lying virtually naked beneath a demon as he held her down and sucked the life from her.
* * * *
Joaquin couldn’t believe the rush of drinking her blood. He never seduced his victims. He drank blood for sustenance, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it or the fear and pain it caused in people.
Claire’s blood intoxicated him. He never wanted to stop. He wanted to bathe in her sweet blood and become drunk with it. She seemed tense beneath him. The way her nails dug into his scalp made him wonder whether she was turned on by this or fighting for her life.
The feel of her lust-soaked panties turned his cock to steel in his pants. He undid his fly and yanked his jeans and underwear down. He moved her panties to the side, groaning against her warm neck as her cream coated his cockhead when he positioned it at her quivering hole. He would fuck her through her panties like a naughty little schoolgirl stealing her first pleasure with a horny, young guy.
She flinched beneath him, losing her breath when he pu
shed into her vagina with a mighty thrust. There was no taking his time right now. He would fuck her hard and fast on the cellar floor. Her tiny, broken sounds of combined desire and pain were to die for. He rammed it home inside of her, delighting in her tightness and the slick heat of her chamber as she caressed him in a torrid embrace.
He stopped sucking on her neck but left his mouth latched onto her there as he brought his thrusts to a halt and reached under himself to rub her plump, fleshy clitoris. Her faint mewl and the way she trembled beneath him thrilled him.
He wouldn’t drink anymore, merely get them both off. Her cunt rippled and clamped down on his erection as she convulsed beneath him as much as he would let her. The hot slice of heaven making sweet love to his penis was too much to bear. He made some unidentified predatory noise as he jabbed into her repeatedly, seeking his own release.
The power of his climax stirred the hunter in him and he had to have just one more taste of her blood. He sucked her hungrily, continuing to pin her with his weight as he filled her body with his seed and demanded the life essence from her.
Joaquin kept wanting just one more taste, but her blood proved addicting beyond measure. He felt her shiver against him, smelled her fear as she lay helplessly beneath him. Her life was in his hands, and if he didn’t stop she would lose it. Somewhere from deep inside of him he found the strength to let go. He detached himself from her luscious neck, pulled out from her drenched pussy and fell over onto his back, panting with exertion and ecstasy. The encounter was unreal—the best of his life sexually with a female and even the best meal of his life.
He rolled his head to the side to check on Claire. She looked pale and wouldn’t stop shivering. He quickly jerked his pants up and crawled over to her. “Claire?”