Station X
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He lavished affection on her sensitive flesh, using his lips and his tongue, his fingers and his nose. He draped her legs over his shoulders and let her come again and again. Her cream covered his face and his hand, and still he showered her with love. She arched and shivered, covering herself with his hair.
“Enough!” Victor snapped after a very long time.
“Sorry,” Tess said with a completely unrepentant smile. “We’ve more than established you two can give me what I need, but this union is all about balance. What do you need from us?”
They faced each other on their knees. Tess reached down and squeezed their asses, but neither man seemed to notice. Victor stared into Seth’s eyes as he slowly wrapped his hair around his hand.
She’d expressed her feelings for her men. Now it was time for them to communicate their feelings for each other. Emotions churned and twisted, too convoluted to define.
Drawing Seth’s head back with a savage smile, Victor asked, “Have you ever been whipped, my gorgeous Elf?” His long fingers closed around Seth’s cock and stroked with long, firm rotations.
Seth moaned, powerless to resist the rough play. Who would have thought that the perfect place for a Protinese prince was on his knees? “Would that please you, sir?”
“Answer my question.” He gave Seth’s hair a little tug. “Or do you want to be punished? Is that why you didn’t answer a direct question?”
“I have never been whipped, but I believe disobedience must be punished.”
Victor didn’t smile, but his gaze softened, caressed. “You’re right. Disobedience must be punished.” He drew Seth off the bed by his hair, the pressure miraculously stopping short of pain. “Tess, come. You’re going to help me punish Seth.”
For a moment she looked as if she’d argue, then she crawled off the mattress and joined them at the foot of the bed. “Release the wrist restraints then sit. Spread your legs so I can see your pussy.”
“Yes, sir.”
She sounded a bit like she were playing a role, but Seth didn’t mind. They had just begun to meld with each other. Something deep and meaningful had stirred within him the first time Victor dominated him. The experience had been just as important as when they had taken Tess together for the first time. They fulfilled needs in each other, and each need was unique, yet each need complimented the others.
He placed his wrists in the cuffs, and Victor squeezed them shut. Even the sharp metallic snap excited Seth. Using the remote, Victor shortened the cables, drawing Seth to the balls of his feet. Tess silently assisted Victor then moved to the bed and spread her legs as she’d been instructed to do.
Seth faced the bed, his gaze drawn helplessly to Tess. She rested back against her elbows, legs spread wide. The deep pink furrow he’d devoured such a short time ago was still slick from her cream and his saliva.
A faint hiss was his only warning before fire kissed his ass. He cried out and twisted so violently his cock nearly slapped her startled face.
“Settle down, love.” Victor touched his hip, caressing downward, pushing his thumb into the deep crease between his ass cheeks. “Turn your attention inward. Create a new path from one sensation to another. Ride the current; see where it leads you.”
Tess smiled and Seth knew she was thinking about how closely Victor’s advice echoed his. She’d learned how to process new sensations. He could do this too. The stabbing fire mellowed and spread.
Victor’s thumb continued its teasing stroke up and down, barely inside his crack. “Your skin is so smooth. The contrast is so vivid.” He traced the lash mark and Seth shivered. “Ready for more, or should I get something less painful?”
“No,” he objected immediately. He wanted the pain, needed it.
“Move your feet apart and think about my cock pushing into your ass. Take the sensations deep, then spread them to every part of your body.” As he said the last sentence, Victor swung the whip. The pain was no less intense, but Seth was ready this time. He absorbed its fire, savored it for a moment, then defused it. Heat sank deeper and deeper, rolling through his flesh like molten lava.
The third strike lacked the shocking sting of the first two. Seth accepted the welcome heat, but was unable to stop himself from sending his thoughts to Victor. Don’t hold back. Please.
Excitement surged across their link, assuring him Victor had heard him. “Tess, kneel before our disobedient Elf and take his cock in your mouth. You may lick and suck him, but he is not allowed to come.”
“Yes, sir.”
Seth closed his eyes as Tess obeyed. Her warm lips closed around his engorged tip and he whimpered. His balls pulsed and drew up even tighter. If he came, would he earn another punishment? That might not be so bad…
The whip kissed the inside of one thigh and he let out a strangled scream. Nothing had ever felt so incredibly, pleasurably painful! Victor carefully placed each lash, making sure the whip didn’t wrap around his leg or come anywhere near Tess.
Seth stopped counting the strokes. His mind became incapable of coherent thought. He floated in a euphoric haze of jumbled signals, suspended beyond reality. Did he hang there for moments or hours? He couldn’t say, but he returned gradually.
A rich female moan drew him out of the blissful state, and he reluctantly blinked his eyes open. Victor sprawled on his back on the bed, Tess straddling his face. She rocked and wiggled as she rode his tongue, obviously in ecstasy. She reached down and parted her folds so he could suck on her clit. Happy to oblige, Victor caught the tender bud between his lips and gave it a little suck. She cried out sharply, shaking with obvious climax.
“Can I play too?” Seth asked. “I can’t seem to get enough of that particular clit.”
“Welcome back.” Tess crawled off Victor’s face as he licked her cream from his lips. Retrieving the remote from the nightstand, Victor released Seth’s restraints.
Seth’s legs wobbled, so Tess draped his arm across her shoulders. “Damn, Victor. That was one hell of a punishment.”
He grinned, obviously pleased with himself. “You’re welcome. I wouldn’t try and lie on your back for a while.”
“Good point.”
“Which doesn’t mean you can’t put that hard-on to use,” Victor said with a wicked smile.
Seth looked down and shook his head. How the hell had he stayed hard through all of that? “Did you have something specific in mind?”
“Actually, I did. Why don’t you fuck Tess, while I fuck you?”
The idea was infinitely appealing and Victor had even managed to pose it as a question. Seth brushed the crest of Tess’s cheek with his knuckles. “Do you understand how lucky we are?”
“Oh yes,” she responded with a beaming smile.
Crawling onto the bed, she spread out on her back and opened her legs in obvious invitation. Seth grasped the back of her knees and steadied his shaky legs as he positioned himself at her entrance. She was hot and wet from Victor’s mouth. Seth didn’t hesitate. With one forceful thrust, he buried himself to the balls.
His head dropped back on his shoulders, and his eyes closed in ecstasy. “You feel so damn good!”
“Hold that thought,” Victor whispered.
Cool, slick fingers parted his ass cheeks and pushed into his body. He’d taken Victor’s cock before, but not since their link allowed them to share the intensity of their emotions. More lube and more sliding fingers, more of Victor’s ravenous hunger and savage tenderness. Stretching pressure gave way to blissful fullness as Seth spread around Victor’s thick shaft, embracing him and caressing him.
“How did we find what we needed most when we didn’t know what that was at the time?” Tess asked, her voice breathless with wonder.
Seth laughed, driving Victor deeper in the process. “That’s a damn good question.”
“It was obviously meant to be.” Despite the uncharacteristic sentimentality, Victor sounded emphatic. “Now, a little less talk and a little more fucking.”
That was pre
tty hard to contradict, especially when Victor started moving. Seth joined the rhythm. Tess arched into each thrust, intensifying the pleasure surging back and forth across their bond. They moved as one, lost to every thought except each other, cries of joy the only sound left in the room.”
Read on for more
scorching vampire romance
Sworn Protectors, Book One
by Aubrey Ross
ONSET OF DARKNESS
(Available now at Ellora’s Cave)
Chapter One
Copyright © AUBREY ROSS, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
“Why are you keeping this one alive?”
Caitlyn Lazlo spun to face the door at the sharp-toned question. Jackson had never been assigned to one of her missions before and she fervently hoped it never happened again. He questioned every directive while unwelcome interest burned in his dark eyes.
“Our orders are clear.” She widened her stance and met his gaze directly. “Find the wreckage, salvage what we can and destroy the rest.”
Jackson chuckled and stalked toward her, his tall form filling the tiny room. “And you’ve decided this one is worth salvaging?” He motioned toward the unconscious man sprawled on the stack of blankets against the back wall of the wine cellar. “Much of the ship was less mangled than him.”
Didn’t Jackson feel the power emanating from the stranger? His body might be damaged, but echoes of his life force pulsed through the room. It was doubtful she could keep death from claiming him, but she was determined to touch his mind before he died. She licked her lips, struggling to keep her tone casual and her expression bland. “Tara said interrogation of the survivors was at my discretion.”
“Tara?” Jackson raised his brow in challenge. “Don’t you mean General Kovac?”
“Empress, general, mistress, call her whatever you like. I don’t have time for this and neither do you. See that the other survivors are loaded onto the transport and escort them to the compound.”
“What are you going to do with him?”
“I’ll see if there’s enough of his mind left to scan,” she shrugged with feigned indifference, “then I’ll dispose of the body.”
Jackson cupped her shoulders, a practiced smile curving the corners of his mouth. “Are you really so ruthless, or does all this ice conceal a—”
Twisting out of his grasp, Caitlyn glared into his smirking face. “What I am is none of your business. Everyone knows you’re Tara’s chew toy.”
He parted his lips, tracing his canines with the tip of his tongue. Dormant as they were, the points were barely noticeable, but desire or bloodlust elongated the teeth to razor-sharp fangs. “I’ve explored the benefits of submitting to our queen. The question is why haven’t you? I know she enjoys variety. You might want to—”
“I’m not willing to negotiate with my body. Now get the hell out of my face.”
“I don’t want to be in your face.” He slowly licked his lips. “I want you on mine, squirming and pleading while I suck the come from your sweet—”
Claws sprang from her fingertips and she swiped at his face. He jumped back with a startled gasp. It had been a warning. If she’d wanted to scratch him, he’d be bleeding.
“The survivors,” she prompted in a terse, impatient tone. “Get them out of here.”
He paused in the doorway. “How will you return to the compound?”
“Let me worry about that.”
Stroking his chin, he pressed his index finger to his lips. His dark gaze moved over her with lazy insolence. “All I’d have to do is ask and Tara would have you bound and gagged, waiting for my pleasure. She’d probably enjoy watching me tame you.”
“She might enjoy watching you try.” Caitlyn’s eyes tingled as her gaze intensified. The stranger’s energy resonance was fading and she’d had enough of Jackson’s bullshit. “Or she might enjoy watching me skin you. With Tara, you never know.”
He stomped off into the darkness and Caitlyn released her breath in a soft hiss. If he persisted with this foolishness, she’d be forced to act. Indulging his sexual desires was out of the question, but revealing her true strength was dangerous. They needed to believe she was nothing special, just another obedient soldier in Tara’s army.
Turning back to the makeshift bed, she studied the stranger. A lantern provided the only source of light in the underground room. Thick black hair tangled about his face and neck, barely grazing his wide shoulders. Rips and burns marred his gray uniform, exposing gashes and seared flesh. Pity rolled through her and she sadly shook her head. Such a waste. She looked at the elaborate insignia emblazoned on the left side of his chest, above where a human’s heart would beat.
But this man wasn’t human. He was Strigoian. His rich, warm blood hosted a colony of microscopic organisms, symbionts that made him stronger than any human, faster and more… It didn’t matter now. The abilities he commanded in life hadn’t been enough to protect him from his uncontrolled arrival on Earth.
She gently raised his top lip, examining the subtle prominence of his canines. Still dormant. How odd. Why hadn’t his symbionts triggered bloodlust? Surely he needed to feed. Perhaps the symbionts were dead already and only the host remained. Then she needed to hurry if she hoped to salvage anything from this man.
Her tongue unconsciously traced the dormant contour of her own teeth as she stimulated her symbionts, infusing them with energy. Whatever information she could glean from this broken man would never reach the general. Caitlyn hoped he would rest easier knowing his secrets were safe from Tara’s merciless ambition.
Without warning, he caught her wrist and pulled her hand toward his mouth, his fangs fully extending in an instant. Panic swept through her in a dizzying rush, stealing her breath yet augmenting her power. She hadn’t expected him to regain consciousness, much less turn aggressive. Tugging frantically against his grasp, she forced air past the lump in her throat.
“You can’t feed from me! I’m a host like you.” His strength shocked her. He looked more dead than alive, but she couldn’t break his hold. In one violent jerk, she wrested her arm free and scrambled backward.
He mumbled something in a language she didn’t understand. The words sounded familiar yet foreign.
“Do you speak English?”
A loud groan escaped him as he lifted his hand and pushed his hair off his face. Dirty and pale, his features twisted in agony. “Where. Am I?” He spoke English with an unusual accent and like the words he’d spoken before, the inflection was somehow familiar.
He opened his eyes and Caitlyn gasped. Gleaming like polished emeralds, the intensity of his gaze forced her to look away. If he didn’t have blood soon, he’d turn feral, transforming into a ravening, mindless beast. “What type of symbiont do you host?” It didn’t matter. Even if their symbionts matched, she couldn’t risk exposure. Her mission was too important. More than one life was at stake. Still, he would expect her to ask.
“Strigo.” His tone was raspy and thin.
“I’m of the Vladya strain.” End his suffering and protect the information contained within his mind. That was the safer, more prudent course. Damn it! If her instincts were right, she couldn’t allow Tara near him. Heaving an exasperated sigh, she spun toward the door. First and foremost, she had to keep him alive. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’m famished!”
“I know.”
The energy shield protecting the lower level of the villa also impeded telepathic communication. She rushed through the crumbling ruins and up the steep staircase. Even before she reached the top step she called out to Jackson. Where are you? Bring me a feeding bag, now!
You’re too late, Lazlo. We’re airborne.
“Shit!” Her boots skidded across the stone landing at the top of the stairs. She didn’t want to kill the stranger. There was something about him that called to her, stirred her curiosity and protectiveness. He was important, perhaps crucial to her mission.
Jackson might be oblivious to the stranger’s power, but instinctively she understood.
Raking her hair with both hands, she hesitated. Allowing him to feed from her could kill her. Over and over she’d seen it happen. Hosts could only feed from each other if their symbionts matched. Otherwise the strains would battle to the death, leeching off all of the host’s energy in the process. Besides, the second he sank his fangs into her flesh he would realize her unique nature. She was an anomaly, something Strigoians believed impossible. Without a feeding bag, it was most likely kill or be killed. And she wasn’t ready to die.
She pulled a long, sharp knife from the sheath strapped to her thigh and started back down the stairs.
Aubrey Ross
When my parents realized I had an aptitude for storytelling--okay, even at an early age I was a consummate liar--they encouraged me to find constructive ways to put all that "creativity" to use. I wrote my first novel when I was in junior high school. It was a typical teenage girl's fantasy about being kidnapped by a rock star, finding out he was really misunderstood, a millionaire's son, and living happily ever after with the reformed rebel. Erotic romance just seemed like an inevitable destination for someone with my naughty muse.
Now I spend my days, and many of my nights, trying to keep up with the characters springing to life within my mind. I find creative ways of avoiding errands and housework because I can't drag myself away from the dramas unfolding in my latest story. And everyday I thank God I was able to quit my day job and actively pursue my dream!
I also write paranormal romance as Cyndi Friberg. If you're in the mood for something a little less...in your face, give one of my other books a try: http://cyndifriberg.com