The Last Vampire- Complete series Box Set

by R. A. Steffan

  Rans shrugged. “If you like. Ask nicely, and I might even help you pick out the strap-on.” His tone was still casual—totally unconcerned by my threat. “Though you’ll need to figure your way out of your current dilemma first, I should think.”

  I drew breath to reply, but ended up bubbling it away beneath the surface instead. And... yeah. This scene should not be turning me on as much as it was. Christ, we demons were a bunch of sick puppies. Or maybe it was just incubi and succubi?

  Or... maybe it was just me. Zorah Bright, enthusiastic sexual deviant. Yeah. That sounded about right. I would have sighed in resignation if I hadn’t been underwater.

  “Why doesn’t it surprise me in the least that you’re a bratty submissive?” Rans asked, once I’d regained the surface and shaken my ears clear of water. “Seriously... I saw that one coming miles away.”

  “Asshole,” I told him.

  And down I went.

  Each time he pushed me under, I let my air trickle out of my nose in a controlled stream, and stewed over a new insult or snotty quip for the next round of repartee. I honestly assumed at first that I’d be able to outlast him. It wasn’t as though he was doing anything all that cruel or physically draining. Once you’d been on a swim team with a dozen other rowdy grade-schoolers—kids who thought nothing of dragging someone down to the bottom of the pool and sitting on them for a full minute before letting them up—being gently dunked a few inches beneath the surface of a bathtub for a second or two wasn’t really that alarming.

  Still... there were undercurrents swirling, and not just the ones caused by the tub’s jets. I was becoming aware of a strange inner push-pull between the different parts of myself. One part—possibly the succubus part—knew that the obvious thing to do was relax, suck my gorgeous vampire boyfriend’s cock, and let him rock my world like a tidal wave afterward. Another part—the human part?—was genuinely bothered by the idea of admitting that stubbornness wasn’t going to win this game for me.

  Unfortunately, blind stubbornness had essentially been my one and only coping skill when it came to dealing with the world. Without it, I was adrift. I’d spent most of my life fighting things. Emotional neglect. Health problems. Poverty. Supernatural creatures trying to kill me. Refusing to back down from things was basically ingrained at this point, apparently.

  And, wow. Somehow this kinky Dom/sub sex scene was in danger of getting way too philosophical for comfort. So... stubbornness it was.

  “Stupid-face,” I grumbled, reduced by this point to ridiculous childhood taunts since I’d already used all the good insults.

  “You’re reaching now, love,” he said. “Are you done yet?”

  “What do you think, artery-muncher?”

  Apparently, he thought I needed more water up my nose.

  I broke the surface. “English twat!”

  He only chuckled. “Leave off. Now you’re stealing my material.”

  The finger pressed me down.

  I bobbed up and spat water. “Dracula rip-off!”

  He gave me an expression of mock hurt. “Oh, now that one stings. I think such a low blow deserves a double dip in return.”

  Water closed over me in a rush. I surfaced, only to be pushed right back down again, as promised.

  To be fair, I was starting to feel pleasantly fuzzy around the edges by that point—either because of the mild oxygen deprivation or the chronic horniness. My body was heated... aching for sex, and it was growing progressively more needy with each stupid little act of defiance and its resulting quickly delivered punishment.

  On some level, I understood that in order to win this game, I would have to give up my illusion of control over the situation. I mean... there was no question that I could stop what Rans was doing at any time. It really was a game—I just had to say the word, or let my barriers drop and start pulling animus from him. But it was slowly becoming apparent that I couldn’t control what he was doing to me. And as much as it rankled, before both of us could get what we really wanted, I would have to give into the inevitable.

  Well... sooner or later, anyway.

  “Wanker,” I muttered under my breath, and snorted out bubbles as the water tried to rush up my nose immediately afterward.

  EIGHT

  “ALL RIGHT!” I GASPED several dunkings later, when my search for a fresh insult came up totally empty. “You win, goddamnit. I’ll—cough—suck your freakin’ cock. Geez.”

  He only laughed—a low, decadent chuckle. “Bloody hell, Zorah. I originally had you pegged as a switch, you know—but you are really, really bad at playing meek. Try again. I don’t know about you, but I can keep this up all day long, if need be.”

  “Dick,” I muttered, even though I’d used that one already.

  The payback for mouthing off was not unexpected. But it did result in the water closing over me again.

  “Hopelessly, catastrophically bad at it,” he added helpfully, once I’d regained the surface. “Honestly, if your nipples weren’t poking up like a pair of diamond drill tips, I’d worry that you weren’t even enjoying yourself. But, I suppose this must be fulfilling some sort of underlying psychological need to prove your worth via the medium of obstinance.” He paused. “Either that, or you have a hidden breath-play kink. Do you have a hidden breath-play kink?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Shut up. Maybe I’m just really pissed off at you for acting like a twelve-year-old bully at the public pool.”

  “Maybe you are.” He smirked and leaned back, reaching behind himself with one hand. “One way to find out, I suppose.”

  My legs were still bound and splayed open. Clever fingers sought my opening and plunged inside. The slippery lubrication my body was churning out had continued to outpace the wetness of the bath, and he dragged the evidence of my arousal forward to slide circles around my clit. Without meaning to, I let out a stupid, breathy cry and arched mindlessly into the sensation—

  —at which point I managed to dunk myself without any help from him whatsoever, my sensual moan cut off in a flurry of bubbles. His fingers gave another few slow rubs and fell away. My hips bucked upward of their own volition, my body apparently more interested in chasing after his touch than in, y’know, breathing.

  Okay... that reaction had probably been a bit of a giveaway, hadn’t it? Whoops.

  I surfaced, my clit still throbbing and my cheeks burning hotter than the bathwater. Rans raised an eyebrow.

  “Goodness. Breath-play it is, then. How unexpectedly edgy of you.” His smirk turned wry. “Exhibit A in The Crown vs. Zorah’s libido, I’d say.”

  Case closed, damn it, I thought with an inner sigh—though I only muttered, “Great. So, you speak for the British Crown now?”

  He made a yes-and-no gesture. “Eh... technically not since the mid-fifteen-hundreds. But in this instance, I’m falling back on it as a point of procedure.”

  Ass, I groused in the privacy of my thoughts, though at least this time I had the presence of mind not to say it aloud. He was right, though. My nipples ached as badly as my clit, desperate for more than the fleeting brushes against his skin whenever I squirmed beneath him. At this point, I was pretty much on board with whatever it took to get more of his touch, pride be damned.

  “Stop dunking me?” I asked, striving for what I hoped was a submissive tone.

  He was silent for a moment, considering. “No,” he said eventually, “I don’t believe I will just yet. You see, it turns out I was right—after all the occasions over the past few weeks when I’ve wanted to put you across my knee and haven’t been able to, I really am finding this rather cathartic.”

  The water closed over my head. I surfaced and snorted my airways clear.

  “Please?” I tried.

  “Hmm. Now, that’s a bit better,” he allowed. “Still not terribly convincing, though. Try harder. In fact, allow me to offer you a bit of added motivation.”

  This time, his palm closed over my mouth and nose, pushing me all the way down to rest agai
nst the bottom. On the positive side, his hand formed enough of a seal that water didn’t immediately flood my nostrils. On the even more positive side, his other hand wormed between us, his fingers pinching and rolling my right nipple as he held me down.

  Shit. That was... surprisingly hot, really.

  The tradeoff was that he kept me pinned for several seconds instead of just one or two. And this time, when he let me surface, a light touch on my forehead kept me from doing more than craning my chin up to get my nose and mouth above the roiling eddies and waves from the jets.

  “Pretty please?” I tried, casting the words into the invisible void above me.

  A moment later, his hand covered the lower half of my face and I was on the bottom again. Seconds ticked by while the other nipple underwent the same torment between his clever fingers. He let go and I spluttered to the surface, once more prevented from lifting my head all the way out of the water.

  “Pretty please with sprinkles on top?” I added tartly.

  Damn. Even I could hear how snotty that sounded. Resigned, I sucked in a deep breath before his palm covered my mouth and nose, pressing me down to the bottom and holding me in place for a slow count of five, without any attention to my aching breasts.

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” I complained after grabbing a quick gulp of air at the surface—even though in truth, I had a pretty good idea what he wanted to hear. I just wasn’t quite ready to give it to him yet.

  Apparently, ignorance of the rules was no defense, based on how quickly I ended up at the bottom again. So I tried silence instead—also not a defense, as it turned out. I tried it three more times anyway, just for good measure. I did mention the part about stubbornness being pretty much the only tool in my emotional toolkit, right?

  Mind you, all that my stubbornness got me was an extra few seconds progressively tacked onto my sentence, until I started to take the burn in my lungs seriously for the first time since we’d started.

  Rans had me hemmed in right now, and I knew it. He really could keep this up—for hours, if necessary. I couldn’t, even if I did have good lung capacity, along with enough swimming experience and breath control that what he was doing was still firmly in ‘excitingly taboo’ territory rather than ‘I’m in physical danger’ territory.

  I lay on the bottom, weighing my options as I counted the seconds until the restraining hand let me up. When it did, I stretched upward until I met the familiar finger on my forehead, which held me in the same ignominious position as the last few times. Only my nose and mouth poked up from the surface, leaving me unable to see or hear him as I spat out water and filled my lungs.

  Well, fuck it then. In the end, we both wanted the same thing, didn’t we?

  “Please... I want to suck your cock,” I said quietly. “Please let me have it now.”

  For obvious reasons, I couldn’t hear if he said anything in reply, my ears too full of the sound of bubbling jets. With excruciating slowness, the finger on my forehead pressed me lower until water splashed right up to the edges of my lips and nostrils, taunting me with the imminent threat of another dunking—leaving me unsure if I should keep breathing while I still had the chance, or hold my breath in preparation. And what the hell was I planning on doing if my words still weren’t enough? What else could I offer him?

  It was all too easy to picture myself after another few minutes of this treatment—begging shamelessly, and meaning it... suggesting increasingly more perverted and filthy things that he could do to me in exchange for mercy. And... shit. The idea made my sex pulse and clench greedily around nothing. Seriously, what was wrong with me? My nerves sang beneath the jets of water bubbling over my skin and the weight of Ran’s body pinning mine—helpless and bound as I waited for his judgment.

  Rather than making good on his implied threat this time, he slid the thumb of his free hand against the seam of my lips and slipped it inside. I made a surprised noise and sucked him in deep, the resulting low throb of need making it feel as though he’d penetrated me somewhere else entirely. Dear god. I’d had full-on sexual intercourse with men in the past, and not been as close to coming as I was from a few minutes of this gentle torment.

  After fucking my mouth with slow, deep strokes until I was positively trembling with need, Rans withdrew his thumb from between my lips and changed position above me, tilting his hips forward. The movement shifted my center of balance, and I slipped underwater with an abbreviated gasp of surprise. A moment later, velvet skin over hard flesh brushed against my mouth.

  Jesus fuck. He must’ve grabbed his dick and angled it down into the water, so he could rub the tip suggestively over my lips as I lay trapped beneath him. The message was crystal clear.

  You’re not in control, and playtime’s over.

  And, oh, part of me reveled in this final surrender. I didn’t understand why, exactly—maybe it was a succubus thing, or maybe it was the fact that for the first time in my life, I had someone I could trust with my own vulnerability. Rans hadn’t been waiting for me to fail; he’d just set the rules, and then waited for me to stop playing around so we could get on with the fucking. He wasn’t angry or disappointed that I’d decided to test the boundaries he’d set, just as he wouldn’t have been angry or disappointed if I’d swallowed his dick the moment he’d offered it.

  To him, it was merely another way of exploring each other, body and mind.

  With a flurry of escaping bubbles, I carefully wrapped my lips over the head of his erection. He eased his hips back a fraction, and I was able to slide up his length until I broke the surface, coughing around the solid flesh as I cleared an airway and filled my lungs. A strong hand cradled the back of my head, lifting and supporting me as he pulled out to let me breathe properly.

  “Knew you’d get there in the end, love,” I thought I heard him say. “Now that we’re on the same page, maybe you can finally let go and trust me to take care of things... for once in your stubborn life. Because, believe me when I say—we’re only just getting started.”

  Everything in me felt limp and needy... wrung out, yet simultaneously on edge. Rans’ fingers tangled in my hair, both supporting and restraining me as I got my breath back. When he judged that I was ready, he guided his cock past my parted lips and slid inside without hesitation. My mind went soft and blank as he pulled back and thrust in again, fucking my mouth with a slow, relentless rhythm that I was helpless to influence or control. With the oddest sense of profound relief washing over me, I closed my eyes and let it happen.

  In the space of perhaps ten or fifteen minutes, I’d been reduced from a normal person with circling thoughts, worries, and a defensive wall of sarcastic bitchiness, to a willing body existing solely to be used for sexual pleasure. And god help me, it was one of the most peaceful states I’d ever experienced. Right now, I had no choices to make—no worries about what I should be doing or thinking or feeling. Someone else was looking after things. Someone else was making all the decisions. All I had to do was keep my magical barriers up so Rans wouldn’t think I was using the safe signal and stop what he was doing. Beyond that, I could lie here, enjoying the water jetting across my oversensitive skin as strong thighs bracketed me and a heavy cock slid past my lips, over and over.

  Right now, nothing else existed.

  Rans knew exactly how deep I could take him; knew exactly how to support me so the water sloshed at my cheeks, bringing home the vulnerability of my position with every slow thrust. Time was meaningless, but after a period of floating in that soft, serene place inside my mind, I felt his fist tighten in my hair, pulling deliciously at my scalp.

  I moaned at the sensation, feeling as wanton as I ever had in my life. Rans’ hips stuttered twice; his cock swelled and pulsed, spilling his release across my tongue as I swallowed it hungrily. His thighs trembled with the force of his orgasm, but he caught himself before he accidentally dunked me again. Instead, he pulled free of my mouth and lifted my head a bit higher out of the water so I could hea
r him.

  “Blimey,” he muttered. “You might be fucking hard work as a submissive, Zorah, but it was still worth every single minute. Look at you now.”

  I licked my lips and made a humming noise of agreement, letting the words wash over me, stroking the warmth inside me into a flame. Rans swung a leg over to kneel beside me rather than straddling me. Strong arms repositioned my body to lie at my end of the tub, still bound, but with my head resting against the edge so I wouldn’t have to crane upward to stay above the surface.

  When he settled his body between my bound legs, I thought he might fuck me next, despite just having come in my mouth. Instead, he leaned down and kissed me, chasing his own taste as I opened myself to the sensual assault of his lips and tongue. When he’d robbed me of breath even more thoroughly than the immersion had managed to do earlier, he started down the length of my body, his soft kisses and nips disappearing beneath the surface as the water closed over him. Again, his added bulk raised the level of the tub. I lay pliant and still, letting it lap at my chin. Distantly, I kept expecting him to surface for air as the seconds dragged into minutes.

  At some point long after human lungs would have demanded relief, it occurred to me that—duh—he didn’t have to breathe. My body felt positively drugged as he nibbled his way across my stomach and down. My need to come had been subsumed into a general feeling of fullness and heaviness while he’d been fucking my mouth, so it was a shock when the first deep curl of his tongue inside my pussy nearly pushed me straight over the edge. I hovered on the plateau of orgasm as he devoured my flesh with hungry nips and licks, my body trembling in its bonds.

  Rans shoved my bound legs wider apart and licked up the length of my parted folds, the flat of his tongue rasping across my clit. I exploded, the sound of my breathy cries shocking in the relative quiet of the palatial bathroom. I was still trapped in place—unable to do anything more than jerk and buck helplessly in the water—but it quickly became obvious that Rans wasn’t done with me. Over the course of the next who-knew-how-long, he nursed me to a second shattering orgasm with fingers and mouth, followed by a third.