No, I have no time for their kind at all. Selene is all right, we’ve accepted her—not that Lucius gave us much choice—but as for the rest… The males, especially, are prone to uncivilized behavior: starting fights, squabbling over mates, holding metaphorical pissing contests to prove their dominance. So we vampires try to stay out of their territory, and they stay out of ours… at least for the most part.
If Zeke considers Sabina his mate, however, and has somehow found out that she’s now spending time with us vamps, she could be in a lot more danger than she realizes.
Which is why she’s in my car, being taken to my house, where she’ll be safe from him.
To be honest, I haven’t planned much further ahead than that. Eliminate any immediate threat to start with, worry about the rest later has always been my motto. And she could be right. He could just be bluffing, hurt pride making him lash out to try and frighten her.
But until I know for sure, I’m not taking any chances.
I glance over at the gorgeous creature in the passenger seat. Her arms are crossed defensively over her chest and she’s staring sullenly out of the window. Returning my attention to the road, I attempt to start a conversation. “Are you going to sulk for the rest of the night?”
“I’m not sulking.”
I suppress a grin. “You shouldn’t lie to me, Sabina. I might make you regret it.”
“I couldn’t regret anything you did to me now more than I regret agreeing to play with you,” she retorts.
Ouch. “That’s another lie. You don’t regret playing with me. In fact, I bet you’d do it again if I asked you nicely.”
She doesn’t reply to that, and I grace her with an audible sigh as I turn into my long driveway. Unfortunately, my mansion is less impressive at night, and I never get to enjoy the stunning views over the Catalina Foothills during the day, for obvious reasons. But it’s big and comfortable, and fifty acres means I have absolute privacy. I’d love Sabina to be able to explore and enjoy it while I sleep tomorrow but the way she’s behaving right now is making it much more likely that I’ll have to lock her in somewhere. More’s the pity.
The security gate slides open when I hit the button on my remote, and then I roll the car up the remainder of my driveway, pressing another button to open the four-car garage. Right now, I only have one other car—a Rolls Royce, my pride and joy—but that’s parked at the other end. As I use this vehicle more often, I reserve the spot right beside the entrance to the house for the Cadillac.
If Sabina is impressed, she’s hiding it well. “I guess this place is home,” she mutters.
“It is. Well, technically this is just the garage…” I press the remote and the door to the garage slides shut behind us.
“You can’t keep me here forever,” she blurts out suddenly. “I have my cat, a job, siblings, friends… They’ll miss me if I don’t turn up on Monday. What you’re doing is basically kidnapping.”
I’m unable to suppress my short bark of laughter. “What I’m doing, pet, is taking care of you and making sure you’re safe. Not that you’re displaying a single ounce of gratitude. Now get out of the car, or am I going to have to carry you into the house?”
“I can walk.”
By the time I’ve taken our things from the backseat, she’s standing at the door to the house, clutching the blanket around herself like it’s a shield. Her long hair is cascading over her shoulders, hiding the puncture marks left by my teeth. Gods, but she tasted better than anything I’ve had in decades. My cock throbs at the memory. I prowl towards her, backing her up against the door and putting my face so close to hers, I can feel her breath on my lips. “You’re not my prisoner, Sabina,” I say in a low voice. “You’re my guest. I very much enjoyed playing with you. Fucking you. I’d like to do it again.”
Her breathing has quickened and her pupils dilate—I can see that even in the semi-darkness of the low garage light. My reminder of how I made her feel earlier is having the intended effect.
“I happen to know Zeke.” It’s only half a lie. “And I’m worried that he’s not just bluffing. I care about you, pet, and that’s the only reason why I’ve brought you here. Once we’ve made sure you’re not in any real danger, if you decide you never want to see me again, that’s fine. You can leave, and I’ll let you go. In fact, I’ll drive you back to your car myself.” The mere thought of that actually happening is enough to make a pang of something stab my gut but I ignore it.
“Oh,” she says in a small voice.
“So now it’s up to you,” I tell her. “You can make the best of a bad situation here with me and enjoy the remainder of our time together, or you can dig your heels in and fight me every step of the way. Much less fun, and you know you won’t win. So what will it be?”
There’s a long, long pause while she thinks. Then, “Enjoy our time together, I guess.”
I realize I’m grinning. “Atta girl,” I say. “Definitely the right choice. Now, let’s go in, shall we?”
Sabina
I’ve only ever seen places like this in the movies. Going up Maximus’s driveway alone took what felt like forever. His garage has enough room for a fleet of cars, and now this. I follow him through a huge, impressive hallway and to an enormous kitchen with a vast, square marble island in the center of it. The floor is dark hardwood, the acres of cabinets are mahogany, offset perfectly by the pale beige tiles and marble countertops.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asks, setting his toy bag on the floor, draping both his suit jackets over one of the chairs, and handing me my purse and dress. For a second, I wonder where my panties are, then I remember he put them in his pocket earlier. I put my dress and clutch bag on the kitchen island.
“Something strong,” I mutter as my cheeks heat up at the memory.
“You have to be a bit more specific than that.” He prowls over to a dining area which is easily as big as the kitchen, heading towards a massive cabinet. “Another gin and tonic?”
“Double, please.” I glance at the vast, black windows. The views from here must be spectacular during the day. “How big is this place?”
“Just under thirteen thousand square feet.” There’s no pride in his voice as he pours a finger or two of whisky into one tumbler and a decent amount of gin into a tall glass. “Tonic’s in the fridge.”
I stare blankly at the walls of cabinets, wondering which one is hiding the refrigerator.
“Right in front of you. The big one.” There’s amusement in his tone and I yank the doors open with a little more force than is strictly necessary. Jesus, it’s big enough to stash bodies in. “If you want ice, it’s—”
“I don’t need ice,” I interrupt him, tugging the bottle of tonic out of the fridge and taking the glass of gin from him. “Thank you.” This guy’s got me so flustered, I can barely tell up from down anymore. My emotions are all over the place: furious one minute, almost incoherent with desire the next.
Bastard.
I slosh some tonic into the gin and take a huge gulp. I suppose this place isn’t too bad… for a prison.
“Living room’s through here,” Maximus says, leading the way. I follow him, my eyes on stalks as I try to take it all in: the sand-colored walls, high ceilings crossed with dark beams, polished hardwood floors, and blatantly expensive furniture and rugs. There are banks of floor-to-ceiling windows everywhere, like shiny black mirrors.
Maximus sinks into a huge, plush sofa and pats the spot beside him with his free hand. “Come sit by me,” he says in that dominant growl, and my legs take me toward him as if they have a life of their own.
“How are you feeling, pet?” he says, once I’ve sat down.
Tired. Confused. Horny. Frustrated. “Fine,” I say.
His hand, idly stroking the back of my head, suddenly grips a chunk of hair at my nape and tugs sharply. “What did I tell you about lying to me?”
“I’m sorry,” I whimper even as a bolt of desire shoots through my lower belly. The man
is a revelation: one touch, and I’m putty in his hands. “I’m… confused, Sir. I’m feeling a lot of things.”
“That’s understandable.” His grip loosens and he resumes stroking me gently. I shiver. “How’s your ass?”
Now I’m smiling despite myself. “Sore. Good.”
“Good,” he echoes. “I did so enjoy hurting you.”
Another deep, languid thump reverberates through my core.
“And you took it so well. Spread your thighs.”
My sex must be raw, and I’m certain even the slightest touch now would be excruciating, but I still find myself obeying his command. It’s like I have no free will around him.
“Good girl.”
I’m holding my breath, waiting for his touch, but nothing happens. Instead, he takes a sip of his whisky, his other hand still playing with my hair. Feeling stupid, I begin to close my knees again but his growl stops me dead.
“Keep them open until I tell you otherwise.”
It’s humiliating, sitting beside him with my thighs splayed, but it’s somehow also supremely erotic. I drain my gin and tonic to hide how aroused I am. Maximus might be bossy, and strange, and extremely secretive, but he is easily the sexiest man I’ve ever met. A mere raised eyebrow from him turns me on more than hours of foreplay with anyone else.
“You smell so good,” he whispers. “And so wet. I can smell your excitement from here.”
My cheeks are on fire and I close my eyes, wanting to hide from his scrutiny but aware that there’s nowhere to go.
“I wonder, pet… are you still wet from before, or is it turning you on again to sit here on my couch, wearing nothing but a blanket, your thighs spread like a hungry, greedy little slut who’s desperate for cock?”
The moan escapes my lips before I can stop it. His crude words make me feel ashamed and aroused at the same time, and I hate myself for it.
“You want me again, don’t you?” His growl is like a caress. “That sensitive place between your legs is sore and achy but it’s also swollen and throbbing, isn’t it? Desperate for my fingers… my tongue… my cock…”
I open my eyes and watch him as, with deliberate slowness, he finishes his whisky and sets the tumbler on the coffee table. Taking my empty glass from my hand, he puts that down as well. Then his fingertips are tracing the top of my thigh. I let out another helpless moan.
“Say it, sweet Sabina,” he murmurs. “Tell me what you want.”
I close my eyes again—anything to hide from his penetrating stare—and shake my head. I can’t say it. I can’t.
The pinch he delivers to my inner thigh is so savage that I gasp and jerk back.
“I won’t ask you again,” he snarls.
“Please,” I whisper, not even sure what I’m asking for. Mindless with need is an expression I’ve heard and read about so many times, but I never really understood it.
Until now.
“Please… what?” He’s stopped stroking my hair now and is gripping the nape of my neck. The scrap of skin on my inner thigh that he’s got trapped between his nails is burning almost as hot as my face.
“I don’t know,” I moan. “I can’t… I can’t think straight right now.”
He tuts sympathetically, and I gasp as he takes his nails out of my flesh. “Poor little pet. Shall I help you?”
I nod.
“You can do better than that. Remember your manners.”
“Yes, Sir. Please help me.”
His touch is so light at first that I’m not sure whether I’m imagining it. Then he increases the pressure, ever so slightly, and I realize that yes, he really is tracing circles over my clit. I’m already trembling; rhythmic pulses of indescribable pleasure are thumping through my pussy at his expert caress. His grip on my neck is keeping my upper body immobile but I’m grinding my hips, trying to control the way he’s stroking me.
“Keep still, pet,” he says softly. “Don’t move, and don’t make a sound.”
It takes every ounce of self-control I have to obey but I force my body to relax.
“Atta girl,” he murmurs, his fingertip still moving relentlessly, as inexorable as a metronome. My clit feels huge, my pussy strangely empty. I realize I want his cock back inside me more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. “Just sit there and take it,” he continues, “be a good girl for me. And when I tell you to, you’re going to come for me—you’re going to come good and hard for me—and you’re not going to move or make a sound, otherwise I will take a birch to your thighs, bring you back to the edge of orgasm, and tie your hands to the bed without letting you come. I don’t think you’d like to spend the night writhing helplessly, your ass and thighs burning almost as hot as your clit, desperate for release… would you?”
Sweet Jesus. His threat actually makes me gush a little; I can feel the trickle slip from my pussy and slide down over my asshole. I’m about to shake my head, to say No, Sir, but then I remember his instructions not to move and realize I’m being tested.
His chuckle tells me I passed. “You’re a smart little one, aren’t you?” His fingertip slides down between my labia, swirls briefly in my slick juice, and then slides back up to resume its now slippery brushing of my throbbing, rigid bud. “You’re so fucking wet, Sabina. I love how responsive you are. I loved the feel of you coming over my cock. I want to fuck you again later. Would you like that? Maybe I’ll put you on your knees and make you choke on it before I plunge deep, deep inside your tight, wet, needy little cunt…”
I’m biting my lower lip to stop myself from crying out, his muttered threats and promises washing over me like a litany of pleasure. I’m trembling with the effort not to move as he keeps me on the edge, keeps talking, keeps teasing…
His hand on the back of my neck feels like a brand.
“You’re going to come now,” he goes on, “and you’re going to remember what I said will happen if you so much as move a fucking muscle or even breathe too loudly. You understand me?”
I gush again at his words, then he increases the pressure on my rigid nub just enough to tip me over the edge. Hot, pulsating tingles thump through my core, starting at the spot his fingertip is massaging and radiating out, my pussy contracting again and again as he croons in my ear, coaxing me, drawing it out in that expert, infuriating way of his.
“Good girl, shhh, that’s it, come hard for me, don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking stop now…”
I’m shaking uncontrollably, gripping the blanket around me for dear life as he pushes me on and on, desperate for him to increase the friction just a tad more, just enough to let me finish completely, for this agonizing, ecstatic torment to end.
“You’re so beautiful when you’re coming, pet, I don’t think I could ever tire of the sight. That’s why I like to make it last. It’s your own fault. I wonder how long we could draw this out for? It’s an amazing sensation, isn’t it, but at some point it must become excruciating…”
The words leave my lips without conscious thought. “Please, Sir! Makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop…”
For the life of me I don’t know how he does it, how he could possibly wring these sensations out of me or know his way around my body so much better than I do, but he changes the way he’s touching me and there’s one last crescendo of pulse-pounding, pussy-tightening pleasure before it at last begins to ebb. All the tension drains out of me and I slump back against his hand on my neck, exhausted. Spent. Defeated.
Maximus’s voice brings me back to the present. “Oh dear.” His tone is infuriatingly conversational, as if I weren’t sitting in a veritable puddle of my own arousal, as if my entire sex weren’t still throbbing with the aftermath of the longest orgasm of my life. “I warned you what would happen if you made a sound.”
12
Maximus
Gods, but Sabina is stunning when she comes. I drew it out for as long as I could to relish every second of her pleasure, taking in every tiny detail: the blush creeping up her neck and face, the vein thumpi
ng in her neck, the trembling of her round, full thighs.
I was also curious to see how long she could take it before she broke. I figure the only way I can tie her up for the day without arousing any suspicion is by making it a punishment, and she played right into my hands.
I seem to be hiding my smile a lot around her.
Now she’s gazing up at me with those huge, dark blue eyes, her pink-tipped breasts heaving with every breath.
“I asked you a question,” I growl, and she flinches.
“S-sorry, Sir. You said you would punish me.”
“Very good. And what did I say would the punishment be?”
She repeats it slowly, as if under duress. Which I suppose she is, in a way. “You… You would take the birch to me, bring me to… to the point of orgasm, and then you’d… tie me to the bed.”
Actually, I’d love to fuck her again but sunrise is creeping ever closer and I’m getting tired. “Good girl,” I tell her. “And why am I doing that?”
She closes her eyes and I don’t miss the way her hands fist the blanket. “I-I made a noise.”
“You begged me to make you stop coming, pet,” I tell her. “Loudly. After I specifically told you not to move or make a sound.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.” She’s actually hanging her head now, and a pang of something surges through my chest. Gods, what is it about her?
“No need to apologize. I’m about to make you atone,” I say in a low voice. “Stand up.”
Still clutching the blanket, she gets to her feet, wobbling a little. She has stamina, I’ll give her that. I rise, too, and put a steadying arm around her shoulders.
Her Vampire Addiction (Midnight Doms Book 9) Page 8