The Sacrifice
Page 12
Aiden smiles. “My curious little virgin. I would love to join you in bed and spend hours exploring your body. But not tonight—you’re not ready yet.”
I want to ask when I will be ready but I decide not to push it. “What are you going to be doing until bedtime?” I ask, wondering where he sleeps for the night and for how long.
“I have some work to catch up on—I was going to do it in the study.”
“Well…can I join you?” I ask awkwardly. “If you’re busy I promise not to interrupt. I can be very quiet—just give me a book to read.”
He looks thoughtful. “I must confess that I usually don’t enjoy anyone’s company but my own. But you are growing on me at an alarming rate.” He nods. “Yes, you may join me in the study.”
“Thank you…Master,” I say, smiling. It’s becoming disturbingly easy to remember to call him that. I try not to think about it.
He smiles back. “We should change clothes first. I’m nearly as wet as you are from your shower.” He eyes the fluffy white towel wrapped around me. “And you are very overdressed.”
I bite my lip. Crap—I was just getting used to being covered again. “Couldn’t I keep them on?” I ask softly. “I’m still wet and it’s chilly in here.”
“It’s not that chilly,” Aiden begins but I cut him off.
“Not for a vampire, maybe. But for a human…” I wrap my arms around myself and shiver theatrically.
He gives me a skeptical look and then sighs. “All right, I’ll find you something.”
He rummages in the wardrobe, changing out of his business suit and into a pair of faded, comfortable looking jeans and a white t-shirt that shows off the width of his broad chest nicely. For me, he produces what looks to be a long, satin smoking jacket in deep, emerald green.
“It’s mine,” he explains, removing my towels and draping it over my shoulders. “From a time when such things were fashionable. It’s not the style anymore, of course.”
“Of course,” I echo, smiling. “Unless you’re Hugh Hefner.”
He laughs. “Yes, well. I kept it because it’s comfortable. You may wear it as long as you leave it open.” He strokes my cheek and then his hand trails lower to cup my breast and casually thumb my nipple. “Any time I look at you, I want to be able to see your luscious body. You must never hide it from me, Emma.”
My breath catches in my throat as his touch starts an all too familiar fire under my skin. “Yes, Master,” I whisper, almost without thought.
“Very good. You’re being so obedient all of a sudden.” He looks extremely pleased. Then he lifts me gently and walks out the door toward the study.
“Why are you carrying me again?” I ask, mystified. “I really am capable of walking, you know.”
“I’m carrying you because I can. Because I like it.” He gives me a warm, lingering kiss on the mouth before setting me on my feet, just inside the study door. “Because you’re mine, Emma,” he says softly and then goes to sit behind the huge desk, in the big black leather chair. “Now I must work. Find a book to amuse yourself and don’t bother me.”
The abrupt change takes me aback somewhat, but when I study him under my lashes, I can see that there’s nothing malicious about it. He simply switches modes supernaturally quickly, from pleasure to work—it’s like a light switch with him. He can turn it off and on whenever he needs to. Very practical and utterly vampiric.
I can’t help envying him his supernatural concentration and control—my skin is still warm and tingling where he touched me and I can still taste his kiss on my lips. It’s useless to think of anything else but his hands on me—still, I do try. I scan the shelves again for something to read but once again I find nothing.
Finally I settle for the copy of Farrow’s Handbook of Spells, which I was perusing earlier. I handle it carefully but to my relief, there are no shocks from the worn leather cover this time. There’s a choice of two other seats in the study—one is a comfortable looking brown leather loveseat drawn up before the fireplace that dominates one end of the room. It’s all made up with a stack of logs just ready to be lit but of course there’s no fire. In Florida's nearly year-round heat, I bet Aiden doesn’t get to use the fireplace much.
The other seat is a wooden, straight backed chair sitting across from Aiden’s desk. After a moment of internal debate, I take the copy of Farrow’s and settle onto the hard wooden chair across from him.
If Aiden notices my deliberate choice to be closer to him, he doesn’t let on. His eyes remain fixed on the screen of his laptop and his fingers keep flying over the keyboard with vampiric speed, making them look like nothing more than white blurs.
Sighing to myself, I open Farrow’s and read over the familiar spells. This handbook is one of the first that any young witch is given to study. By the time she’s twelve or thirteen and has started menstruating, she ought to be able to manage the simplest ones by herself. Call the Candle Flame to Life, is the title of one spell. How well I remember struggling with that one! My cousins could light candles from across the room even before they hit puberty. With me…well, let’s just say I never even got the candle’s wick to smolder. Not so much as a wisp of smoke though I tried for hours upon hours.
There is a pair of ornate silver candlesticks on Aiden’s desk with long, creamy white candles that have never been lit in them. Out of habit, I concentrate on one of the tapering wicks and call for a flame. I know the secret name of fire—I have known it from the age of eight. It was one of the things my mother was teaching me just before our house burned down. I think it now, letting it echo in my head. I close my eyes and imagine a flickering yellow flame growing just for me, coming when I call like an obedient pet.
The image is so strong and vivid I’m half convinced that I’ve finally done it. That I’ve finally called the flame. But when I open my eyes, the wicks are still as cold and untouched as ever without even a wisp of smoke or a hint of ash to show for my efforts.
What did you expect? You’re a dud. But I’m still disappointed. Every bit as much as I was as a child when I tried and tried and failed and failed over and over until I burst into exhausted tears and finally accepted my magic-less status.
I’m just beginning to feel really depressed when the soft strains of acoustic guitar reach my ears. Hmm, that music is familiar…then I realize that Aiden is watching the video again. What was it called? Something about the gentle dominant, wasn’t it? I must admit that when I saw it earlier, I was a little too distracted by the vid itself to bother memorizing the name.
Looking up, I see that he is utterly engrossed, his piercing eyes fixed intently on the laptop screen. Is he getting anything out of this? He doesn’t appear to be aroused but then, what do I know? Maybe he’s seething with lust inside—I know I am. All day long I’ve been teased in various ways and I still haven’t been allowed to come. I can feel my pussy tingling at the memory of the movie and suddenly I want to see it again.
Moving quietly so as not to disturb his concentration, I put down the copy of Farrow’s and walk around the desk to stand beside him and watch.
The Dom is going down on his submissive again, licking and sucking her little pussy while she moans softly and writhes against the bonds that hold her to the bed. I feel my pussy begin to get hot and creamy at the sight. Then I remember Aiden kneeling in front of me and giving my pussy that long, loving, thorough kiss. Goddess, that was so hot. My knees feel weak just thinking about it.
“Are you enjoying the movie?” Aiden’s deep voice cuts into my thoughts and brings me back to myself. I look up to see that he’s watching me instead of the screen. Feeling embarrassed, I press my thighs together, wishing I was allowed to shut the green robe I’m wearing and cover my nakedness.
“Are you?” I counter, trying to be bold. “Why are you watching it? You don’t look very, uh, affected by it.”
One corner of his sensual mouth quirks up in a smile. “Actually, I’m watching less for pleasure than for information.”
r /> “Information?” I frown. “I thought you said you’d done this kind of, uh, domination thing before?”
He nods. “I have, but it’s been many years. The information I’m seeking is regarding human frailty. I’m reminding myself, you see, of how very delicate and breakable you are.”
“Breakable?” I don’t like the sound of that.
Aiden nods. “A vampire my age is immensely strong—many hundreds of times stronger than a human man. I could crush your limbs if I hugged you too hard or smash your skull with a flick of my wrist in a moment of inattention. I must be always on my guard to be careful, gentle…tender.” He gives me a little smile. “I daresay you think the punishments I’ve given you so far have been harsh but I assure you, darling, each stroke of the belt or hand I’ve dished out is no more than a love tap to a vampire.”
I put a hand to my throat. “Would it really be that easy for you to…to kill me?”
“Of course it would—just as it would be easy for a human parent to kill a helpless baby. But that doesn’t often happen, now does it?”
“No, I guess not.” I’m still not very comforted.
Aiden sighs. “I see I’ve upset you, which was not my intention at all. I simply want you to know that I’m always on my guard around you. That I will never be less than fully controlled, never less than completely careful of your life and wellbeing.”
“Why do you care so much?” I ask. “If you really hurt me, I mean?”
“Because you’re rapidly becoming a part of me,” he says, matter-of-factly. “Every hour our bond grows. I would as soon chop off my own hand as injure you, darling—even by accident. Which is why I try so hard to be careful.”
I have to admit he’s done an excellent job so far. True, he’s inflicted pain on me when he punished me, but it was always in a careful, deliberate way. I never felt, during either of the spankings he’s given me, that he was in any way out of control.
“Stop worrying and come sit with me,” Aiden says, breaking my train of thought. He pats his lap. “Come, we’ll watch together.”
Feeling a little shy, I come to settle on his knee. At first I just perch there but with a little prompting from Aiden, I relax so that my back is to his broad chest. I take a deep breath, inhaling his warm, cedar and spice scent, filling my lungs with him as I absorb the heat of his big body.
“Mmm,” Aiden murmurs in my ear. “Now isn’t this nice?”
I have to admit it is—although a little uncomfortable. My position on his lap makes my bare breasts thrust out and puts my pussy on display in a most disconcerting way. I tell myself to pretend I’m at a nudist camp, to just ignore my nakedness and concentrate on the movie. But since the Dom currently has his submissive up on her hands and knees and is ramming into her from behind, paying more attention to the movie doesn’t help.
And then Aiden starts to touch me.
“Look at that,” he murmurs, bringing one arm around me and casually cupping my breast. “He’s punishing her pussy with his cock.”
“Is he?” I whisper, not sure what else to say as he pinches and twists my nipple in a way that sends both pain and pleasure shooting through my body. “Is…can that be a punishment?”
“Fucking, you mean?” He’s pinching my other nipple too, now. Teasing it, causing my body to react whether I want it to or not. “It can, yes. I prefer to use it for pleasure but sometimes, when a submissive has crossed the line, she needs a harsher punishment. Then it becomes necessary to fuck her roughly, to remind her who her master is.”
I’m disturbed by this idea. “You mean…rape her?”
“No, of course not,” Aiden replies at once. “I promise you, Emma, I may at some time in the future take you forcefully, but I will never take you by force. There is a difference between rape and a punishment fuck.”
“There is?” It’s hard to talk when he’s stroking my breasts and teasing my nipples but I make myself speak anyway.
“Of course.” He nods at the laptop screen. “This submissive knows that she’s crossed the line and earned a severe punishment. Watch…” He stops touching me for a moment to rewind the movie to a certain point. “See?” he says, nodding at the screen. “He doesn’t force her to get to her hands and knees—she gets willingly into the position and offers herself to him.”
I watch quietly and sure enough, the blonde submissive gets on the bed and spreads her legs wide for her master with no sign of reluctance. Still, I’m bothered by the scene. “But…” I clear my throat. “But she knows he’s going to…going to fuck her hard and she still…still opens herself to him?”
“That is the essence of submission, darling,” Aiden assures me in a low, purring growl. “Taking your punishment willingly and without hesitation.”
“I don’t know if I could do that,” I whisper. “If…if I’ll ever be able to do that.”
“You will,” Aiden assures me. “In time, darling. And when you do—when you offer yourself to me without any reservation, even knowing that what I’m going to do to you will hurt—when you rejoice in the pain as well as the pleasure—then and only then will your education in submission be complete.”
I don’t know if I want to be that 'educated' but I don’t say so out loud. It’s becoming too hard to talk with Aiden touching me, stroking and teasing my naked body until I feel like I want to moan with unreleased tension.
“Do you think she enjoys offering her body to her master like that?” Aiden asks in a low voice. As he speaks, his hand slides down to cup my naked pussy. “Spreading her legs and inviting him to fill her tight little cunt with his big hard cock even though she knows he’s going to fuck her hard? To give her a punishment fuck?” He spreads me open as he talks, stroking lightly over my swollen folds, which are already creamy and wet for him.
“Master,” I gasp as he circles my clit with one careful fingertip. “Oh Goddess, please…”
“It’s been a long day for you, Emma,” he murmurs in my ear. “I’ve teased you and punished you and made you wear the harness. But I don’t think you’ve been allowed to come, have you?”
“You know I haven’t,” I whisper back, my voice ragged. I’m so close now—if he would just give me a little bit more…
“And you’d like to come, wouldn’t you?” he prompts me, still slowly stroking my inner cunt.
“Yes, God, yes,” I gasp. “I need too—you know I do.”
“Well then, go ahead, darling.” Abruptly, he withdraws his hand, leaving me gasping and panting and only a hair away from the edge.
I groan in frustration. “What are you talking about?”
“About making yourself come, of course. Here, I’ll show you what I mean.” Lifting me gently but firmly, he turns me around until I’m straddling him, my legs spread wide around his narrow hips and my breasts nearly in his face. “Now, Emma,” he says, his eyes gleaming. “Go ahead, make yourself come.”
“I…but I…” My entire body, so flushed with desire only a moment ago, is suddenly cold. I can’t do this—can’t touch myself in front of him. He already saw me doing it early today when he caught me on the webcam. That was an accident but it will still go down in my personal history of most mortifying moments of all time. And now he wants me to do it again but this time on purpose? “I can’t,” I say, my voice trembling. “I don’t…I’ve never…never done that in front of anyone.”
“You’ve never had a master before, either.” Aiden’s voice has dropped a register and his eyes are stern and uncompromising. “But now you do. And it would please me greatly, Emma, to watch you stroke your pussy until you come for me.”
I can’t believe this. He’s really serious—he’s really going to make me do this. “What…what if I won’t?” I ask hesitantly.
He frowns. “Then I’ll punish you. And you won’t be allowed to come all day tomorrow or the next day or the day after that. Believe me, Emma, the buildup of sexual tension can be quite painful after a while.”
I bite my lip. “I’m ju
st…I’m embarrassed.”
“Of what?” he asks softly. “You’ve got a beautiful body I love looking at and you make the most appealing sounds when you come. So soft and helpless—it’s makes me hard just thinking about it.” Reaching up, he strokes a strand of hair out of my eyes. “Go on, darling,” he murmurs, looking at me steadily. “Put on a show for me. Let me see you touch yourself—touch your little pussy.”
I don’t know what else to do. Taking a deep breath, I let my hand slide down my trembling abdomen slowly, slowly, until I finally reach my naked mound. Closing my eyes, I slip my fingers inside my wet folds and begin rapidly to stroke my swollen clit.
“No.” Aiden’s stern voice interrupts my concentration. My fingers stop moving and my eyes fly open. What was I doing wrong? “Look at me,” he instructs, cupping my cheek. “I want to look into your eyes while you come.”
“Y-yes, Master,” I whisper. The intensity of his gaze is hard to bear—it’s so intimate, so invasive. But I force myself to stare into his face as my fingers go back to work, stroking my swollen clit.
“Beautiful.” Aiden spares a glance down between us, studying my fingers, watching the way I work on myself before he looks into my eyes again. “I love watching you pleasure yourself, Emma. I love how pink and flushed your cheeks get and how bright your eyes are. Not to mention the way your slim fingers stroke that hot little clit.” He caresses my hair. “Tell me, darling, are you getting close?”
I am, but the ultimate peak is still eluding me. Part of the reason is embarrassment—though I’m slowly getting used to it, my innermost self is still screaming that this is a private act and I shouldn’t be performing it for anyone to watch. The other part is that I need something else, something more…but what, I don’t know.
Aiden seems to know, though. “Would you mind if I helped out?” he asks, softly.