by Joey W. Hill
A full-grown man was stronger than her, but she knew how to counter his thrashing. A vampire was a different matter. She might have been flung from her perch if Alistair hadn’t banded his arms around her, flattening his palms on Stanley’s abdomen to hold him steady as his hips jerked and thighs quivered.
“Ah, Stanley,” Alistair said, a grave note to his voice. “She’s made my dream come true.”
As Stanley finished, Nina was so aroused she couldn’t orient herself to know what to do next. Alistair guided her, helping her withdraw from Stanley. He ran his palms up and down her arms, steadying her, and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck.
“Well done,” he murmured. “You’re breathtaking to watch when you top a male, Nina. The Mistress deprived herself of a pleasure, but I expect she didn’t have time to plumb a tenth of the potential that’s in you for this.”
Over a month ago, she’d known how to do none of this. Even longer ago, she’d had normal dreams of white dresses, giving her virginity as a gift to her husband. Not being in the center of a threesome, buggering a male stranger…and getting swept away in it.
Lust-driven euphoria ebbed away. She didn’t want Stanley here. She didn’t want to be wearing this thing. She wanted to be back in that boat, kneeling between Alistair’s feet, her head on his inner thigh. Cold and afraid, she’d still somehow been in a better place. A more comprehensible one.
But she couldn’t deny she still felt that connection to him here, though it was touch and go. Was that why she’d been able to get immersed in this? Because she could find that connection to him, no matter the circumstances? She had to face what that meant, but she wouldn’t, not right now.
Alistair unbuckled the strap-on while she still had her back to him. He set it aside and drew her back against him. Sliding his hands along her thighs, he massaged where the straps had dug in. From there he moved up her sides, over her rib cage, to the outside of her breasts, her shoulders and throat, to tunnel his fingers through her hair. He did that several times, making her lie back against him in response as he stroked. Cosseted.
He didn’t touch her sex or her breasts, but came so close, his fingers so knowledgeable, that it awoke nerves there anyway, turning her whole body into a compass gravitated toward him.
“There,” he murmured. “I have no boat handy, but that helps. Doesn’t it?”
She didn’t know how to respond to that. Her throat was tight, incapable of allowing words to pass through. He spoke, his lips against her temple. “Return to the retiring room now and sit in the chair. Leave the door open. I want your gorgeous legs spread, draped over the chair arms. You’ll put your fingers on your cunt, stroke and play. You don’t get to come, but I want you close. So close you’ll beg me for the privilege of coming.”
How often did you do as I ordered you to do, to keep the nightmares at bay? How often did you beg?
He didn’t push for the answer, but instead eased her to stand on her own again, giving her a gentle push toward the retiring room. She drifted that way, her mind a confused mess, such that the easiest thing was to do as he’d asked. For now.
A qualification. She heard the chuckle in her head, dark and dangerous. I doubt I’ll be able to beat that out of you. Though I think we’ll both get a lot of pleasure from me trying.
She found her way to the chair. As she sank down on the cushion, she was suddenly self-conscious, but she needn’t have been. Alistair’s attention had swung to Stanley like a gun finding its target.
The energy in the room shifted to pure male testosterone, so dense she felt its heat. Alistair untied the ropes so Stanley could straighten his legs, then brought the chains down, so Stanley was still manacled, but he had enough slack to drop his arms to his sides. The younger vampire had his head down, and his shoulders were tense. Suggesting she wasn’t the only one dealing with a confusing mix of emotions.
Alistair took off the gag, but left the blindfold. Stanley’s head lifted, his mouth set. “You let her do that to humiliate me,” he accused in a tight voice.
“Did I now?” As Alistair tossed the gag aside, he massaged Stanley’s shoulders, a quick, functional thing. Despite his sullen words, Stanley swayed into the touch, yearning for it. Alistair took it away almost immediately, leaving the bound male obviously at loose ends, even a little bereft. It twisted Nina’s heart. Why not give the poor lad what he needed?
“No worries about that,” Alistair responded out loud. He turned his head, pinned her with his gaze. “Aren’t you supposed to have your legs draped over the chair arms? I want to see you wet.”
There was a big difference in doing what she’d done with Stanley, and being out here in a big wide space by herself, on display and touching herself.
She started to look down, and Alistair arrested her with a sharp one-word command that made her start. But the silky words that followed riveted her attention upon him.
No. You look at me as you obey.
Her cheeks flushed. Slowly, she raised her gaze to him once more. Though a quiver ran through the muscles, she lifted one leg, adjusted it so her knee was bent over the arm of the chair. Then the other, spreading her thighs wide. In the short, split skirt, the position bared them to the hips, and his gaze zeroed in on what was between them, making her sex react in a way that caused a soft sound to escape her lips.
“So responsive,” Alistair said, his voice low and rough. “I could make you come without allowing you to touch yourself at all, Nina. But today I won’t deprive myself of watching your hand upon yourself.”
“Why don’t you go bugger her instead of me, since you’re all up in her cunt rather than my arse tonight?”
“Still haven’t learned any manners.” Alistair sighed. He reached up, unshackled one of Stanley’s wrists and loosened the blindfold, jerking it down so it draped around Stanley’s neck. The male blinked at him with eyes dominated by dark pupil. “Try your luck, Stanley. Let’s see if you’ve improved any since your last visit.”
Nina had started to touch herself. Tentative, though her sex responded as if she’d given it a much more effective and decisive stroke. Her body arched, hips lifting, but in the next moment, she froze, as Stanley responded to Alistair’s challenge.
He spun, whipping the chains around as if he’d strike or tangle Alistair with them. Her vampire ducked the tactic, but Stanley missed him by a hair. No more sardonic looks on Stanley’s face now. He looked mean and intent, sending a spike of fear through Nina. A jab from his fist caught Alistair dead in the mouth, knocking him back. Blood bloomed on his lip, and Nina was out of the chair and halfway toward the two males. Alistair was already back in the fray, shoving the male, lifting him full body around the middle to throw him down to the floor. All while avoiding swaying, twisting chains.
Nina gripped the doorframe. Stanley squirmed free, kicked. Alistair blocked and returned the jab, only she was pretty sure he pulled his punch, something Stanley hadn’t done. Stanley spun and kicked again, Alistair narrowly avoiding the contact to his middle. He swept Stanley’s leg, sending him to the floor hard enough to shake this level of the house.
In the midst of this, a calm message interjected itself into her brain. You are in harm’s way this close. Go back to the chair and do as I ordered.
Stanley wrapped the chain around Alistair’s foot, so fast she didn’t see the movement, and yanked. It set Alistair off balance and brought him crashing down halfway over Stanley. The two men grappled on the floor, wrestling moves that were distracting since one man was completely naked and Alistair, in his well-fitted slacks and white shirt open at the throat, moved with the twisting, sleek moves of a powerful cat. Then Stanley laid his hands on the shirt and tore it all the way open, managing to sink his fangs into Alistair’s chest just above the pectoral.
Alistair’s speed increased exponentially, confirming he’d been holding back. Stanley didn’t have a chance to enjoy any of Alistair’s blood, for Alistair freed himself and was gone. When Nina’s vision could follow him
again, Stanley grunted as Alistair flipped him to his stomach and brought him to knees and elbows. Alistair had the slack of one of the chains wrapped around Stanley’s neck, the manacled wrist to which it was attached held against Stanley’s throat.
Nina’s heart was rabbiting, but the calm mind message had told her Alistair was in control. Her reaction to the tautness of muscle in Alistair’s body as he held the other man beneath him, the formidable show of restraint that had allowed him to put him down but not cause him true harm, wasn’t trepidation. She was experiencing that perverse female but undeniable full-blown response to a show of alpha male strength.
It didn’t help that Alistair chose that moment to look up at her, his eyes glittering, mouth set. His gaze coursed over her body, the open blouse that displayed her breasts in the lace bra, the slit skirt that revealed her bare sex. He was like a conqueror, examining his spoils of victory. What shall we do with our bad boy, Nina? Want to see me take his arse, show him who’s boss?
She did. She didn’t have time to censor the thought, examine why the hell she had that reaction; it was just there. Yes. She wanted to see Alistair dominate the male, prove he was in control. Even felt a little stirring of primal satisfaction that her Master…
She cut that thought off fast, but he gave her a look of satisfaction that sent shivers through her body.
He turned his attention back to Stanley. “Not bad,” mate,” he said in a different voice, milder. “Serious improvement in your fighting skills. We’ll go over some corrections later. But since you made my dick hard, you have to deal with that. Ask me nicely, or you get nothing.”
Stanley put his head down to the floor. Nina could feel his struggle. He wanted what Alistair was offering, but he fought. That was what he did. After very little time with him, she understood that about him, and obviously so did Alistair. But there was a certain line past which the mind had no control over what the rest of a person wanted.
“Yes. Please.” Stanley’s voice broke, and he pressed his forehead hard to the ground, tipping it against the hand pinned close to his face.
Alistair stroked a hand down Stanley’s spine, a comparatively gentle touch, and Stanley shuddered. “There’s my boy,” Alistair murmured. “Stay like that. Inside and out. No more fighting today.”
Now at last, he released Stanley’s other hand. Unbuckling his belt, Alistair stripped it out of his slacks. Unhooked them. As he paused, his head tilted, obviously capturing Nina in his peripheral vision.
Alistair turned in her direction. As he walked toward her, he shrugged out of the torn shirt with a ripple of muscle. The pants rode low on his hips, and the belt swung loosely from his hand, making her stomach knot uncertainly. As he reached her, he kept coming, and she started backing up, toward the chair. The intensity of his gaze increased, telling her she was doing exactly what he’d intended his body language to compel her to do.
When she reached the chair, she sank into it. He slid his hands under her knees, opened her, spreading her thighs so they were draped over the arms of the chair again. As he leaned over her, he traced a finger over her lace-cradled breast, down her belly. She stared up at him, her mouth dry.
She was gripping the top of the chair. He made a loop of the belt, dropped it over her wrists, cinched it to bind them together. When her lips parted in reaction, his eyes sparked. Wrapping his fist in the tail, he drew her hands down, placed them over her sex.
Cupping his free hand over them, he began to manipulate her fingers like a piano, sending notes of sensation deep into her core. His gaze held hers and she couldn’t look away, even as her tongue touched her lips in response to all the sensations.
He left her hand there, moving on herself, and tucked the loose belt strap beneath her arse. “You stop again,” he said, “I will use that belt in a way you will not like at all. While I will enjoy the hell out of turning your arse red.”
Keep those fingers on the outside. Don’t want them having the pleasure of your cunt before I do.
With that, he pivoted and sauntered back to Stanley. After that series of arrogant statements, she should have been glaring daggers at his back. Instead, she was equally distracted by the view in this direction. The man had a fine, tight arse, even with the pants loose.
Had Stanley ever done to Alistair…what she’d just done to Stanley?
Alistair stopped, looked back at her. Though his gaze stayed on her face, she could feel his attention to her obedience in a way that kept her fingers moving over herself, her hips twitching in reaction.
In his dreams, sweet nurse. If those were the kind of dreams he has. In Stanley’s fantasies, he’s always on his knees. Serving a Mistress who will love his poor broken soul and let him cherish her as he wishes he could, if he weren’t so fucked in the head over it all. But we all get in our own way worse than anyone else, don’t we?
On that unexpected note, he turned back to Stanley. He knelt behind the male, stroked his back again. “Shall I make it hurt, then?” he asked.
Stanley closed his eyes, nodded, with a little sigh. Alistair’s expression became less stern.
“You need it to hurt, Stanley. But you don’t want it to. Someday you’ll learn why that’s important.”
Alistair drew his cock out of his slacks, and Nina’s fingers spasmed as he stretched out the thick organ, rigid with arousal. Alistair gripped himself, added more lubricant, and then angled himself. He took Stanley with one powerful thrust, wresting a high cry from his throat.
“There you are, you little bastard,” Alistair growled. “When are you going to learn, hmm? Every tangle with me ends up with you on your knees, taking my dick. I’ll have that apology now. A sincere one. And I do… mean… fucking… now.”
He punctuated each syllable with more thrusts, so strong the man’s knees and elbows scraped against the floor.
“I’m sorry…Alistair.”
A particularly punishing thrust resulted in a cry. And a correction. “My lord. Lord Alistair.”
Alistair didn’t respond, at least not in words. One of the chains dragging the ground was close enough that he snagged it, pulled it over. Jerking Stanley’s upper body up by his unruly hair, he wrapped the chain around his throat, tightly enough that Stanley choked.
Nina knew vampires didn’t need to breathe, but understood what Alistair was doing when he eased his hold, then tightened it again. Increasing the endorphin rush, the euphoria of it for Stanley. She’d learned of it from the InhServ training. An incredibly dangerous practice for a mortal, but for vampires, it was lumped into their chaotic menu of sexual play choices. But she suspected it had a more serious note for Alistair’s intent.
As his thrusts continued to be brutal, he reached before Stanley and captured his cock in a hard grip. Stanley let out a yelp.
“I can pinch it in half. I don’t think that apology was sincere enough.”
“I’m so sorry. My lord, please…”
Alistair grunted, held the grip, Stanley’s face screwed up in agonized reaction as Alistair continued to pound into him. Nina was horrified, fascinated and…aroused. Her hand was working on herself furiously, she realized, and her body was tightening, lifting. Oh God, she was going to…
Not without your Master’s permission.
That didn’t come from Alistair. It came from her own mind. She was lost. So bloody lost.
As Alistair began to release, he let go of the chain and gripped Stanley’s hip instead. His own hips pumped, back and shoulders flexed, his head thrown back as he groaned out his pleasure. The thick strands of his dark hair caught the room light, his eyes glittering as they went to slits.
He was beautiful, she realized with despair, and she couldn’t look away. Which meant she saw the aftermath, when he dropped his forehead to the center of Stanley’s back and stayed there a long moment. If he were human, he would have been breathing hard. As it was, his shoulders were lifting and falling more rapidly. When he lifted his face, he was staring at the wall, but she could still se
e his profile.
She recognized the stark loneliness in that expression. It was what she’d seen in her own face, every time she had to look in a mirror. Ever since he’d gotten her onto a boat taking her back to Australia, to face a life she wasn’t sure she understood anymore.
Only he had no reflection to stare back at him. Maybe that was another blessing to being a vampire. Or a curse, if one already felt unbearably alone in his own head.
Maybe she wasn’t as alone as she’d feared.
Abruptly, Alistair shoved himself to his feet, withdrawing from Stanley. He gave his hip a hard squeeze before he left the male where he was.
Striding over to Nina, Alistair gripped her bound wrists and pulled them above her head, the strap of the belt slipping from beneath her. The decisive gesture, the set of his face, made it clear that was where he wanted her to keep her hands as he dropped to his knees before her spread thighs and plunged. It was the only word that fit. He scooped under her thighs with strong hands and drove his mouth between her legs. He didn’t play or tease, burying his lips and nose into her cunt, going after her with single-minded purpose, devouring her.
It was like he’d been in the hallway, only even more insistent and sensually ruthless, something she hadn’t thought possible at the time.
Her body bowed up into his as she grabbed at the back of the chair, clawing at the cushion, at the strap wrapped around her wrist. No time to think, to resist. He was demanding her climax, now. All the stimulation of the past hour came together and detonated in her lower extremities. Her body quaked and then shattered, her lips parting on a cry that became a prolonged scream as the orgasm ripped through her. Her head tilted back so far she was gazing at the ceiling, while every part of her was focused on the grip of his hands on her, the demands of his mouth. Her fists cramped with the force of her hold on the thick cushion.
It went on far longer than she expected, her body bucking up, dropping, bucking up again. She writhed and pleaded. Begged for mercy and was ignored. He took a climax past pleasure and into a dark world where she thought she might be pulled apart, nothing making any sense. Except what he wanted. What she could give him.