by I. T. Lucas
He loved that she was uninhibited this way. Her moans and her cries of pleasure were his rewards, and she was just as generous with those as she was with everything else.
Kissing his way down her flat belly, Brundar closed his eyes and inhaled the unique mask of her arousal. If he could bottle that scent, he would carry it with him everywhere and take whiffs every time he missed her. She was addictive.
Her belly quivered under him, the muscles contracting in anticipation. “Brundar,” she whispered his name like a plea.
“I’ve got you, sweetling.” He licked into her, touching the pad of his thumb to her sensitive nub. She bucked, and he pressed his hand to her belly, holding her down as his tongue rimmed her entrance and his thumb moved in slow circles around the second most erogenous part of her body.
What most men didn’t realize was that the seat of a woman’s pleasure resided between her ears. That was why sex games were more about altering perception than a specific touch, and why pain could in certain situations be interpreted as pleasure but not in others.
A true master manipulated body and mind.
He pushed a finger inside her, then added another and flattened his tongue over the needy button jutting from the top of her sex.
Her head thrashing from side to side, Calypso alternated between needy moans and impatient hisses. Hanging right on the edge, but unable to dive over it, she needed one final push.
Brundar curled his fingers inside her, pressing on that bundle of nerves that was sure to send her flying, and yet she didn’t, her frustrated groans sounding pained.
Strange. Up until now, he’d marveled at how responsive Calypso was, how easily she reached her climaxes, but something seemed to bother her, preventing her from letting go.
Female orgasms were finicky.
Slightly too much or too little touch could make the difference between a woman’s ability to orgasm or not. And a disturbing thought could have the same effect. Maybe the ties were too tight?
“What’s the matter, baby? Are you uncomfortable? Do you need me to loosen the knots?”
Biting on her lower lip, she shook her head.
“Then what is it? You need to tell me.”
“I’m afraid,” she whispered.
He hadn’t smelled fear on her, but then the scent of her arousal was quite overpowering.
“Of me?”
She shook her head again, her cheeks turning bright red. “I’m afraid that you will make me come with your fingers and your tongue and then leave again like you did before.”
Poor girl. She was too anxious to climax.
“I have no plans of leaving without sinking my shaft all the way inside you and fucking you into oblivion like I promised. Where do you keep that stash of condoms you mentioned?”
“The nightstand drawer.”
Brundar leaned over her and pulled the drawer open. Calypso hadn’t been kidding. She must’ve emptied the store’s entire supply of the brand she’d chosen.
He picked a packet up and chuckled. “Should I be flattered? Size extra-large?”
Worrying her lower lip, Calypso smiled. “What I felt through your pants seemed extra large.”
Brundar shook his head, pressing his lips together to stifle his retort. What had she used as comparison? Was that jerk of a husband of hers an extra large? Or was he just a large, and Calypso expected Brundar to be larger?
To voice those thoughts would not only be a dicky thing to do, but it would most likely kill her mood. It was sure as hell killing his.
“Let’s try it on and see if you were right.”
“Like you don’t know.”
“Different brands have different sizes. Like shoes.” Or so he assumed.
He had no need for them. Immortals didn’t contract diseases, and the chances of him impregnating a mortal were slim. Besides, most were on the pill or some other form of contraceptive. The last time he’d used a condom was when a partner had handed it to him, insisting that he put it on before blindfolding her. He couldn't remember what size it was, only that it had felt uncomfortable.
Unbuckling his belt, Brundar hoped he remembered how to use the damned rubber. For his first time with Calypso, he would’ve preferred nothing between them.
Regrettably, it was not to be. Not unless he thralled her right now, which he didn’t want to do either. Sober consent aside, he just wanted to be with the real Calypso, to feel her responses, to hear her moan and plead loudly and clearly with nothing to dilute her experience.
Except for the bloody rubber.
Calypso’s belly quivered, and a moment later she erupted in giggles.
His pants and boxers hitting the floor, Brundar paused. “What’s so funny?”
“I don’t know. Maybe comparing condoms to shoes?” She erupted in a new wave of giggles.
It was anxiety. Calypso had been waiting and preparing for this moment, building up her anticipation, while all along fearing that he would back away. Now that he’d reassured her, her relief was coming out as laughter.
He didn’t know what to say in response, but he knew how to stop the giggles.
Thankfully, as he carefully rolled down the condom, it wasn’t as uncomfortable as the other one, which meant that Calypso’s assessment of his size had been accurate.
Climbing back on the bed, he lowered himself on top of her, bracing his weight on his forearms but letting his chest touch hers.
Calypso sighed in contentment, her body soft and giving under his.
“Are you ready for me, sweetling?” He nuzzled her neck.
“I’ve been ready since the first moment I saw you.”
Reaching a hand between their bodies, he stroked along her wet slit, gathering moisture and dragging it up to tease her.
She arched her back. “Please, Brundar, I can’t wait any longer. I need you inside me.”
How could he refuse her? How could he refuse himself?
Positioning himself, Brundar breached her entrance with just the head and stilled, giving her time to adjust to the invasion.
She pushed her pelvis up, impaling herself on another inch. “More.”
His control snapped, and he surged all the way inside her, filling her, stretching her in a way that must’ve been painful. And yet, Calypso didn’t cry out and didn’t drop back down. Instead, she kept her pelvis raised as if afraid he would withdraw before she was ready to let him.
He wasn’t about to.
Not yet.
Even the rubber couldn’t take away from this moment. Being inside Calypso felt like nothing he’d experienced before.
It was a true joining.
It was perfect.
Did it feel this way because he wasn’t indifferent to Calypso like he’d been to all the others?
Or was it something else?
The Fates must really hate him for taunting him with the perfect woman, sending him a human he couldn’t have instead of a Dormant or an immortal.
Cupping Calypso’s cheeks, he kissed her lips, licking inside her mouth, gently at first then with more fervor as holding still became too much.
He retreated and surged again, then again, ramming into her full force.
By the third thrust, her inner muscles fluttered around him, and she screamed her release into his mouth.
By the fifth pump, his own climax came barreling up his shaft, along with the undeniable need to sink his fangs into Calypso’s neck. Clasping her head in an iron grip, he hissed and struck her soft flesh. She tensed as his sharp canines broke her skin, but she didn’t jerk back, submitting beautifully to his claiming.
A moment later, Calypso’s body went lax under him, and her facial muscles relaxed into an angelic, blissful expression.
Brundar retracted his fangs and licked the twin puncture wounds closed, then buried his face in that same spot he’d just bitten—where her neck met her shoulder.
In a little bit, he would enter her mind and erase the memory of his bite. But in the meantime, he would
enjoy the incredible sense of connection for a little longer.
CHAPTER 14: CALLIE
Confusion greeted Callie as her brain restarted after short-circuiting for several moments, or was it longer?
With her body languid, and her mind working in slow motion, it was hard to grasp the thoughts swirling around her head like croutons in a French onion soup, and concentrate on anything.
The previous time Brundar had worked her up into a mind-bending orgasm, she’d been out of it for nearly an hour, during which Brundar had removed her restraints, carried her to bed, and cleaned her up. She’d felt none of that, waking up wrapped in blankets with Brundar sitting next to her fresh out of the shower.
This time, however, she must’ve woken up earlier because she could feel him wiping her gently with a warm washcloth.
Was blacking out and passing out from powerful orgasms normal?
Or maybe it only happened to her twice in a row because both times were firsts.
At the club, Brundar had introduced her to bondage and erotic spanking. The experience had been so intense that it was no wonder she’d passed out after orgasming. Heck, afterward, she’d been as exhausted as if she’d run a marathon.
This time had been just as intense or even more so because Brundar had finally joined them.
Had he felt the same thing she had?
The connection?
The indescribable awareness of finding her way home?
It had been so much more than sex. Then again, it could all have been in her head. The buildup of anticipation prompting her to assign meaning to what was nothing more than incredible sex.
One thing Callie was sure of, though. She wanted more of that. Heck, she wanted that every day, preferably more than once, for the rest of her life. But if it were too much to ask for, she would settle for one daily dose of a mind-blowing orgasm, please.
Brundar was turning her into a sex addict. But it was all good. Craving one man a lot couldn’t be unhealthy, right?
She felt Brundar move the warm washcloth to her inner thigh.
Was tending to her privates part of the aftercare she’d read about?
The blindfold was still on, but her arms and legs were free. Callie reached for the washcloth. “You don’t have to do this.”
With a growl that sounded more animal than human, Brundar moved her hand aside and continued his ministrations. “Better get used to that because I’m always going to take care of you.”
Oh, she could get used to him taking care of her, no problem.
The question was what he’d meant by that. Caring for her after sex?
For Callie it meant the whole kit and caboodle, like a commitment and a relationship, and all that jazz.
Except, there was something to be said for Brundar’s cleaning routine too, especially when he pushed on her knee and spread her thighs wider. The combination of dominance and gentle care was like an erotic Molotov cocktail on Callie’s arousal, igniting it and getting her wet all over again.
It hadn’t gone unnoticed. The washcloth disappeared, replaced by Brundar’s finger.
She chuckled. “Are you going to punish me for ruining all that careful cleanup work?”
His finger traced her slit. “On the contrary. I’m going to reward you.” The finger kept doing wicked things to her.
Callie lifted up to get a little more, only to have Brundar’s hand push down on her belly. “Arms over your head, Calypso. Grab onto the headboard and don’t let go.”
“Yes, sir.”
She felt like giggling again. Brundar was trusting her to keep her hands away. Not that she minded him tying her up, not at all, it was hot as heck. But she wanted more than that. Eventually, she hoped he would allow her to touch him. In the meantime, leaving her unrestrained was a step in the right direction.
Getting between her upturned knees, he spread her thighs even wider and blew on her heated flesh. Imagining what he saw, Callie felt a blush creeping up her cheeks. She was completely exposed to his gaze, her lower lips spread so wide that she felt his cool breath all the way inside her.
A moment later his tongue speared into her, pulling a ragged moan from her throat. His strong hands holding her thighs spread wide, he licked and sucked like a man possessed.
It was too much. Callie forgot about keeping her hands up above her hand and reached for his head, tugging on his hair.
His warning growl reminded her of her mistake.
Immediately, she reached back for the iron scrolls of the headboard, gripping on to them for dear life.
Brundar stopped his attack for a moment to lift her legs and drape them over his wide shoulders, exposing her even more. But at this point, Callie was beyond caring.
“Please.”
She didn’t have to wait long.
Penetrating her with two fingers, Brundar sucked her clit in.
Her moan sounding more like a strangled, pained cry, Callie exploded, the tightly wound coil inside her springing free.
Through the orgasmic haze, she heard a wrapper tear, and a moment later Brundar was inside her. He wasn’t gentle, going hard and deep with one powerful thrust, then pulling almost all the way out only to ram back inside her full force.
Hanging on to the headboard for dear life, all she could do was spread wide and accept his hammering. It was exhilarating to feel Brundar lose control like that. There was nothing cold or reserved about the man on top of her.
Callie would’ve given anything to see his face lost to the passion. Grunting and growling, Brundar sounded like a rutting animal, and yet she couldn’t imagine him as anything less than the beautiful angel he was.
Her dark angel.
It was a heady feeling to be the one who caused this powerful and proud man to lose control.
His grip on her hips was bruising, but Callie didn’t care. He was claiming her, leaving his mark on her, and in turn, she was claiming him. As his shaft swelled inside her, stretching her to her limit, another climax rolled over her like a semitrailer going downhill with no brakes.
She screamed.
But this time she didn’t black out.
CHAPTER 15: SHAWN
Staring at the divorce papers, Shawn couldn’t believe that he’d signed them. Served him right for getting wasted. Weed on its own was harmless, and so was alcohol, but they sure as fuck didn’t mix well.
When he’d sobered up, he’d found the signed divorce papers on his coffee table, and purple fingermarks on his neck.
Fuck, he must've attacked the delivery guy.
Shawn smiled. If he’d ended up looking the way he had, the other guy had probably ended up in the hospital. True, he hadn’t wrestled since high school, but he was as strong as an ox.
Except, he would’ve expected the weasel to report him to the police. Maybe he didn’t do it because of the damage he’d done to Shawn’s neck. It would have been hard to prove who started the fight.
Shawn had been in enough brawls to know that. It was his word against the delivery dude. Maybe the guy had a record and couldn’t afford to tangle with the police.
Whatever.
The thing that bothered Shawn the most was that until recently he’d been glad that the bitch had left, and couldn’t understand why suddenly it had started making him angry again. After all, he got to keep the house, which was worth much more than the measly amount she’d taken by emptying half of their savings.
The ones she knew about.
The real money was in an account only Shawn had access to. The stupid bitch thought he was depositing all of his income into their joint account. Shawn was way too smart for that. Only the base salary went in there. His commissions and his bonuses and money from the deals he’d made on the side went into his private account.
In that regard, signing the divorce papers without a fight had been a smart move on his part. If lawyers had gotten involved, they might have discovered the money he’d hidden from her, and the fucking whore would have walked out with way more money than
she’d ever imagined.
If he’d let her out.
She had been smart running off the way she had.
Nah, Callie was a dumb little cunt. She must’ve had help. Probably the guy who was screwing her. The one she left Shawn for.
Was it one of the waiters at Aussie?
He needed to go there again and talk with her friends. Get some more information out of them. Callie hadn’t told anyone that she was running out on him. She hadn’t even told her bosses that she was quitting.
But one of the other bitches must have known something. That slut, Kati, had looked at him funny like she suspected he’d been beating Callie up.
Fuck, maybe if he had, the little bitch would've had more respect for him. He’d been too easy on her because he wanted to get her pregnant. Every month he’d hoped she was, and every month he’d been disappointed.
The slut was probably taking some form of contraceptives. But if she was, she must've hidden it damn fucking well. He went through her things almost every day and checked all her credit card purchases. If she’d been seeing a doctor or buying pills, he would’ve known.
Sneaky little bitch must’ve found a way. Maybe her friends had gotten it for her?
He was not going to make the same mistake with the next woman he claimed as his. From the very start, he’d show her who was boss, and she would know her place—barefoot and pregnant and jumping to obey his every command.
CHAPTER 16: TESSA
Tessa eyed the two guys standing next to Karen with identical conceited smirks on their handsome faces. Both were young, in their mid-twenties, with athletic builds and hair so short they looked practically bald.
“Good evening, ladies. I want to introduce my two friends, Yoram and Gadi.” She pointed at each guy as she said his name. “They’ve graciously volunteered to be your punching dummies.”
The one named Yoram flashed a smile, revealing perfectly straight white teeth. “We didn’t volunteer. We’ve been drafted,” he said, casting an accusing glance at Karen.