by Lynsay Sands
"That is how we joined," Domitian said, his voice gravelly with passion.
Sarita turned slightly on the end of the lounge chair to look at him, and then glanced to where her hand was touching him as her movement accidentally shifted her hand, sending another thrill of pleasure through her.
"It is called shared pleasure," he said, growling now. "It is something only life mates enjoy." Covering her hand to keep it still, Domitian added, "I felt every moment of your pleasure, experiencing it as if it were my own. And at the end, my shout of pleasure joined yours and we both lost consciousness."
"Really?" She glanced to his face with interest.
"Si. Really."
"That's a pretty nifty perk," Sarita admitted, and slid her hand inside his boxers to pull him out. He was surprisingly sensitive, she found. Just doing that had jolt after jolt of pleasure riding through her.
Domitian bit back a groan and tried to remove her hand. "Si. Now let go, turn around, and let me--"
"No," she said, shifting to kneel on the concrete in front of the chair instead, never releasing her hold on him as she did.
Domitian groaned, but then caught her hand to stop her and asked, "No?" with bewilderment. "But I want to touch you."
"Too bad," Sarita said with a shrug. Offering him a wicked smiled, she added, "You've already done that. And I've always wanted to know how good I was at BJs."
"BJ? That is--Ah yes, that is what I thought it was," he said faintly as she leaned onto the end of the lounge chair and took him into her mouth.
Startled by the tsunami of pleasure that swept through her then, Sarita closed her eyes and nearly bit him, but managed to stop herself at the last moment. Once she felt she was prepared for what was going to come, Sarita began to move her mouth over him, moaning along with Domitian as pleasure immediately began rushing through her again. The vibration from her moan merely added to the pleasure, causing her to moan again, which brought on more pleasure and more moaning. It was like a circle without end, the pleasure building and building with each go-round until she could barely breathe.
"Madre de Dios, you are good," Domitian gasped, his butt rising off the seat slightly as he tried to follow her mouth.
Sarita couldn't agree more. Literally, she couldn't agree with him with her mouth full. But she was rather impressed with herself as she drove them both crazy with her lips, teeth, and tongue. She was vaguely aware of Domitian tangling his hands in her hair and clutching her head a moment later. Sarita knew he was saying things, but he wasn't making much sense. Beautiful words in Spanish were followed by the filthiest demands, but she didn't pay them much attention. She was listening to her own body's dictates, applying more pressure now, moving faster, slowing, speeding up, nipping lightly to increase the pleasure she was experiencing. And the entire time, Sarita was moaning, her body trembling on that very edge of the freedom release offered her, and then . . . bang! Something snapped and pleasure shot to every corner of her body, filling her and blocking out the light as she sighed and slid into unconsciousness.
Six
Sarita woke up this time to find her head on Domitian's thigh and his exhausted member passed out in front of her.
It was a heck of a thing to wake up to, she thought wryly as she eased carefully away from him to sit up on the stone floor at the end of the lounger. He was still asleep this time, she noted, which was kind of weird. Domitian had woken up first the last two times today, she thought, and she glanced along his body to his face to see that not only was he still unconscious, but he was also extremely pale.
Sarita glanced up toward the sun and frowned as she tried to figure out what time it was. The sun was making its downward journey, but was still high in the sky so she supposed it must be mid to late afternoon, somewhere between 2 and 4 p.m.
That realization was somewhat staggering. She hadn't even know Domitian a full day yet. It felt like forever. And really, how stupid was the man to be messing about out here with her where he would pass out under the hot sun? Not once, but twice, mind you. This life mate sex obviously made idiots of its victims. And had it really not even been twenty-four hours since Dressler had knocked her out in his lab with that shot? Really? It felt like a week.
Sighing, she got to her feet and then paused in surprise as a wave of dizziness swept over her. Domitian wasn't the only one who'd had too much sun, apparently. While Sarita had grown up in Venezuela, she wasn't used to such concentrated sun and for so long anymore.
She probably needed water, Sarita told herself. She would get some before she went down to get blood for Domitian. She glanced down at him and changed her mind. He looked like death warmed over. She'd get the blood first and then fetch water for herself, she decided, moving cautiously away from the lounge chair and toward the house.
Sarita felt better the moment she stepped inside the shaded house. It was a good twenty degrees cooler than it was outside, the ceiling fans turning slowly and pushing the cooler air around. She actually shivered at the difference as she pulled the door closed and headed for the office and the hidden door to the basement.
Her gaze swept the boxes in the room at the foot of the stairs as she passed through it, and Sarita recalled that she hadn't finished her search of them. She'd return to do that after getting blood for Domitian, she decided as she continued into the old lab to retrieve the blood.
Sarita had four bags in her arms and was backing out of the refrigerator when she felt something brush her elbow. Glancing to the refrigerator door, she saw that there was a piece of tape sticking out with a bit of paper on the end. It looked like something had been taped there but had been torn off.
Letting the door close, Sarita glanced around and spotted a balled-up piece of paper on the floor. Curious, she carried the blood bags to the table and set them down, then hurried back to pick up and smooth out the paper. On one side there were four numbers and Sarita grimaced as she recognized them. They made up the combination for the numbered padlock she'd had to pick to free Domitian.
It seemed Dressler had left the combination after all. He'd probably put it in the refrigerator to make sure she did feed Domitian the blood before she freed him. Too bad he hadn't put it on the bags where she might have noticed it rather than taping it to the inside of the door where she'd overlooked it.
"Men," she muttered to herself, and in the next moment silently apologized to men in general for the insult. Dressler was a monster not a man.
There were a couple of words under the numbers and she read them with interest.
This combination is for you to use to free Domitian AFTER YOU FEED HIM AT LEAST FOUR BAGS OF BLOOD. However, the letter inside is for him. Please be sure he reads it.
It was a piece of paper, not an envelope, but it still had the crease where it had been folded in half, closing the letter to Domitian inside when taped to the door. Eyebrows rising, Sarita turned the paper over and read the message on the other side.
Domitian Argenis,
This blood is clean and unsullied. It is safe to consume. I offer it as a way to ensure you do not hurt our little Sarita. I know how important life mates are to your kind.
Obviously there is something I want from you. I will contact you soon to let you know what that is. In the meantime, please enjoy my home away from home.
Dr. Dressler
Sarita read the note at least three times before balling it up and tossing it on the floor where she'd found it. The message didn't really say much. The blood was obviously fine. At least it hadn't harmed Domitian, although, frankly, she hadn't even considered that it might not be fine.
And Domitian had already told her that life mates were important to an immortal. As for the "obviously he wanted something from Domitian" part, that wasn't really news either. They'd already decided he'd put them there for a reason. But that line troubled her anyway. As did the mention that he would contact Domitian soon to let him know what that something was. He didn't say he'd contact them, just Domitian.
Fr
owning, Sarita gathered up the blood she'd come down for and headed back upstairs. She was crossing the living room to the doors to the terrace before she realized what she found most bothersome about the letter. It was the fact that Domitian hadn't mentioned it to her.
Why was that? she wondered, pausing by the doors. Several possibilities filled her mind. Perhaps he had thought it would upset her, which suggested he thought her weak. Or perhaps he hadn't told her because he didn't want her to know Dressler was going to contact him somehow. Or perhaps because he'd already contacted him and told him what he wanted. Perhaps Dressler had told him about the cameras and that he wanted them to have sex. Maybe he'd promised Domitian freedom or something if he performed often and enthusiastically.
Sarita glanced to where Domitian still lay, apparently unconscious on the lounge chair. She briefly considered not taking the blood out to him. She even considered leaving him out there in the sun to fry, grabbing several bottles of water from the refrigerator upstairs, and trying to leave right now on her own. But then she pushed the door open, stepped out, and kicked it closed before walking to the lounge chair.
One glance was enough to ascertain that Domitian was still unconscious and incapable of feeding himself. Sarita dumped the bags of blood on the chair next to his body and then gave him a good slap to try to wake him up so he could feed. When that had no effect, she straightened to consider what she should do.
After a moment, Sarita hurried back into the house and through the living room and bedroom to the en suite bathroom where she retrieved one of the steak knives still lying on the counter. She then fetched a large bath towel as well before hurrying back out to the pool.
Moving quickly now, she covered Domitian with the bath towel from the neck down to prevent further damage from the sun, then grabbed a bag of blood and held it over his mouth. Sarita was raising the knife to puncture the bag when she recalled what Asherah had done in the lab to bring on the immortal's fangs. Pausing, she set the bag down and punctured the tip of her finger instead. It was just a small jab, enough to bring on a bead of blood that she then waved under Domitian's nose.
His nose twitched, and then his mouth fell open and she watched as two of his upper teeth shifted and then slid down, becoming pointy little fangs. Sarita stared at them for a minute, marveling that they looked just like normal teeth when in their resting position, but then she grabbed the bag of blood again and popped it to his fangs. Once she was sure it was fixed in place, cradled in his open mouth, she let go and slowly removed her hand, ready to grab it again if it rolled or shifted and fell off. When that didn't happen, Sarita straightened with a sigh and then left him there and went back inside to get her water. She was quite sure he'd wake up before the first bag was empty and would be able to then feed himself the rest of the bags she'd left him. It hadn't seemed to take much for the corpse guy to come sputtering back to life and he'd apparently been drained.
The bottled water was ice cold when Sarita pulled it from the refrigerator. Hot as she was, she didn't open it at once, but instead pressed it against her forehead and then her cheeks, sighing as it cooled her heated flesh. When she finally opened it and began to drink, she gulped half of it down in one go. Sarita then tossed the cap in the sink and grabbed a second bottle from the refrigerator to take with her before heading for the basement again. She was determined she would finish her search of those boxes this time . . . and the cupboards in the old lab too.
Actually, perhaps she'd start in the lab, Sarita thought suddenly. There might be an old lab coat stashed away in one of the drawers or cupboards that she could wear when she left this place. Even an apron would cover more than anything in the closet upstairs did.
Heck, if there were curtains on any of the windows here, she'd be sewing herself a gown a la Gone with the Wind, Sarita thought dryly and then paused at the bottom of the stairs as she thought of the sheets on the bed. She wouldn't even have to sew that, she could just wrap it around herself toga style.
Sarita almost turned to run back upstairs, but then continued on into the lab. It would only take a minute to check the cupboards for a lab coat, and that would be much less cumbersome than the large sheet from the bed.
She started her search with the cupboards along the wall next to the door, quickly opening and closing cupboards and drawers one after the other as she walked along. All Sarita found was dusty old--and probably outdated--lab equipment, a couple of pencils, a stapler, an empty whiskey bottle, and blank notepads.
Disappointed with her results, she moved on to the floor-to-ceiling cupboards along the wall with the refrigerator and freezer. The first cupboard was an old broom closet with a tin dustpan and a broom and mop, both disintegrating with age. The other two cupboards were empty except for hooks, which had no doubt at one time held lab coats.
Sarita almost gave up her search then to go out to the waiting boxes in the next room. But she'd been trained to be thorough in a search, so she continued on to the row of upper and lower cupboards along the wall opposite the door. She didn't expect to find anything of much interest in these cupboards either, though, so was startled to open the first door and find herself staring at several large liquid-filled jars with bizarre shapes floating in them.
Sarita eyed them briefly with bewilderment, and then stepped forward and picked up the center jar of three on the lower shelf. She then drew it closer to her face to examine the contents. For one whole minute she had no idea what she was looking at. Her mind simply couldn't make sense of what she was seeing.
Here was a tiny fist. Here a tiny foot attached to what could be a tiny, malformed leg. Here another tiny foot with a perfect leg, and between the two a tail of some sort. A fish tail, Sarita realized, turning the jar slowly until she could see the head of the bent figure. But instead of a baby's head, some kind of large insect head peered out at her through the clear glass. The sight so startled her that Sarita nearly lost her grip on the jar.
Tightening her fingers at the last moment, she caught the lid of the jar, then quickly set it on the counter and backed away, her instinct to get as far away as possible from the monstrosity.
Sarita stopped after just a couple steps, however, her gaze sliding to the other jars in the cupboard. There were two rows of three, or had been before she'd removed the one she'd just set on the counter. Now her gaze slid over the other jars with a sort of sick fascination. Each held a mutant fetus, what she presumed were partially human babies with atrocious deformities or mutations. There was a perfectly formed fetus with skin that made her think of a salamander. One with a misshapen head and what looked like fur running down its back. Another with no limbs, just a head and trunk, the skin so see-through the organs inside were visible, though those didn't appear to be quite right. Another fetus was almost perfectly formed, but with only four toes and fingers and those sporting long curved claws. The last was just a jellied mass with nothing human about it.
"Dear God," Sarita breathed. She stared at the jars on display for a moment, her stomach turning, and then moved almost without thinking to the next cupboard and opened that door as well, and then the next and the next and the next. Her gorge rose with each door she opened and each set of six jars revealed, until Sarita was gagging on her horror and disgust as she opened the last.
Covering her mouth, she backed away then and simply stared at the varied monstrosities on display, hardly aware of the silent tears spilling from her eyes and running down her cheeks.
These were not naturally occurring malformations. They couldn't be. She was sure they had been engineered. Human DNA spliced with various animal and fish DNA to create atrocities she'd never imagined could exist. It was horrifying. She couldn't imagine how it had been done. What kind of sick psycho could do something so monstrous?
Dressler seemed the obvious answer. It seemed immortals weren't the only thing he liked to experiment on. He liked to play with human DNA too. The real question was why? Why would he do this? What did he hope to get from it?
Footsteps coming down the stairs in the next room caught her ear, and Sarita quickly dashed her tears away. She wasn't a crier by nature. She'd only cried three times in her life; when her mother died, when her grandfather died, and when her father died. Her tears now were an aberration, and one she wasn't willing to share with anyone.
"Sarita?"
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she turned to see Domitian crossing the room toward her.
"I woke up and you were not--" He paused halfway across the room, concern suddenly flooding his face. "What is wrong? Have you been crying?"
"No," Sarita snapped, and then rolled her eyes with irritation. So much for her attempt to look normal, she thought, but added in a calmer voice, "There is nothing wrong. I was just . . ." She turned, gesturing to the open cupboards and frowning at the jars.
"Ah . . ." Domitian continued forward to stand at her side, his face grim as he looked over the jars. "I saw them earlier."
"I didn't," Sarita responded, her voice hollow.
"Then this must have been a shock," he murmured, slipping a comforting arm around her shoulder.
Sarita didn't respond. She also remained stiff under his arm, unable to relax. It wasn't because of the jars, though. It was that damned letter and his not telling her about it, and her worry that Dressler already had contacted Domitian somehow.
"My uncle said that one of Dressler's men mentioned a host of creatures on the island," Domitian announced now. "Fish people and bird people, and a centaur I think."
"What?" she asked with disbelief, but then she glanced back to the fetus with the fish tail between its legs before letting her eyes slide over the other mutations. She shook her head. "I didn't see anything like that on the island."