It was an easy won victory but I wanted more. I wanted to see Christine squirm before I gave her what she wanted. Raising one hand in the air, I said firmly, ‘Wait!’
She glared at me.
‘Before you do as I’ve instructed. Before you get down on your knees and worship my beautiful pussy lips, I’d like you to refill my glass.’ I drained the last of the vodka and offered her the empty crystal.
‘You aren’t in a position to give me orders, darling,’ she sniffed. Her eyes were livid with fury and resentment.
I waggled the glass. ‘Fill it this time,’ I snapped. ‘You only served me a half measure before. I need a high dose of vodka after the day I’ve endured.’
Christine snatched the glass and poured the drink swiftly. Her features were a rage of complex emotions. Obvious arousal was most apparent. But it was masked by her desire to be in control – and the conflicting need to surrender. I wanted to take more pleasure from her ordeal but, with my thoughts still set to plummet downwards, I didn’t dare prolong her torment for fear of losing interest in the cruelty.
‘Thank you,’ I said primly. I took the offered glass from her hand and sipped lightly. In the most casual way I could manage, I added, ‘You may now kneel before me and admire my pussy.’
Christine glared resentfully.
And then she slid from her seat.
A tingle of excitement rippled through my stomach as she crawled between my parted thighs. As a vampire she exuded no physical warmth, and had no need to breathe. But I was aware of her presence because of the electric ripples that radiated from her body. Her emerald gaze turned scarlet with lust as she got closer to my sex. I was touched by the thrill of knowing I was desired. More exciting was the knowledge that I was in control.
‘Do I look beautiful?’ I asked arrogantly.
‘Beautiful,’ she repeated.
‘Do you want to touch me?’
‘Yes!’
Christine blurted the word with such eagerness I almost laughed.
‘Inhale first,’ I demanded. ‘Tell me how glorious I smell. Make me want to be touched.’
She glared at me. Her lips were set in a scowl. ‘I’m not your bitch.’
I shrugged and sipped the vodka. ‘The choice is yours, darling,’ I smiled. ‘Either you’ll do as I say, or you can go back to your seat. I don’t mind which.’
Her hesitation lasted for less than a second. Pushing her face forward, shocking me with the sensations of her titian curls brushing over my inner thighs, I heard her breathe deeply as she drank in the scent of my pussy.
‘You smell horny,’ she growled.
‘Lame,’ I declared.
‘You smell like you’ve been kneeling in a gent’s lavatory.’
I frowned and told her that wasn’t what I wanted to hear.
We glared at each other in silence for a full minute before she turned her attention back to my sex. Drawing a deep breath, pausing to savour the bouquet like a wine connoisseur sampling a Chardonnay, Christine whispered, ‘You smell like the most succulent pussy I’ve ever wanted to lick. You smell sweet and musky. I can’t think of other words to describe it. I just know, if I started to lap at you, those pretty pink lips would open and you’d be wet and responsive.’
I shivered.
She grinned at my response.
I was stung by the urge to do something more and remind her which of us was in control. The desire to control was briefly stronger than my need for pleasure. ‘Pass me a cigar,’ I demanded.
Her grin disappeared and she fixed me with a look of pure venom. Reaching into her jacket pocket, pulling out a pack of slender panatelas, she offered me one and then fumbled for her lighter. It was good to see her on her knees, struggling to please me and despising her own servility. But, while I wanted to take more pleasure from Christine’s mounting distress, I also needed her to satisfy the arousal she had awoken. I waited until the cigar was lit, took a draw on the smoke and then sipped from my glass. Prolonging her ordeal as much as I dared, I hesitated for a minute before saying, ‘Go ahead, bitch. You may stroke your tongue against my pussy.’
She glared at me.
The prospect of a refusal danced in her eyes. But, rather than worrying that I had pushed her too far, I simply reclined on the limousine’s rear seat and waited for her to begin.
It had never been a fantasy of mine to lounge in the back of a luxurious car, cigar in one hand and vodka in the other, while an attractive businesswoman drew her tongue against my pussy lips. But I began to wonder why I had never previously entertained such thoughts.
The feeling of control was exhilarating.
The sensation of Christine’s tongue against my sex was everything I needed. She teased lightly, lapping daintily at the flesh and thrilling me with the promise of further delicious torment. When the tip of her tongue found my clit I had to make a physical effort not to cry out with gratitude. When she dared to push her tongue between my outer labia I couldn’t suppress the moan of arousal.
‘Suck your finger,’ I gasped.
Since I’d allowed her a taste of my pussy, Christine had become obedient. The finger was in her mouth as soon as I gave the instruction and she sucked greedily on the digit.
I nodded approval and said, ‘Now place that finger inside my pussy while you lick me again.’
She did as she was told.
My lips were separated by her gentle intrusion. The wet finger entered easily and my inner muscles rippled around her. When she moved her mouth back down to my hole, teasing her tongue slowly against the open labia and, once again, trilling at the thrust of my clit, I felt sure I would explode with unseemly haste.
Drawing again on the cigar, and sipping absently at the vodka, I allowed Christine to continue licking while the mounting pleasure eased away all the stresses from the day. The seat shifted underneath me and I realised the car had come to a standstill. Although I wanted to be satisfied I felt there would be more pleasure to be had if I waited. Christine would believe she had accomplished something if she was allowed to take me to orgasm. Although the thought seemed cruel, my control over her was providing as much of a thrill as the pleasure she inflicted with her tongue. And I knew my control would be weakened if Christine thought she had been the sole reason for my satisfaction.
‘That was pleasant,’ I said. I patted her head in the most condescending way I could manage. ‘You may sit back in your seat now, Christine.’
It was fun to watch her struggle. She had an obvious reluctance to be patronised and a blatant desire to be praised. She pulled herself away from me and went back to the limousine’s drinks cabinet. Angrily pouring herself a vodka she glared at me and said, ‘What we just did doesn’t change anything. I’m the mentor and you’re the…’
She struggled in her search for the antonym of a mentor.
I smiled at her and made no suggestion.
‘…and you’re not the mentor,’ Christine snapped finally. ‘You still have to do as I say. You still have to forget your stupid idea about going up against the legion. You still have to forget about Mel.’
A car door slammed closed and the partition slid down. Christine and I instinctively flinched from the prospect of sunlight but none entered the rear of the car. Night had already fallen. The toy-boy grinned through the small gap he had opened. I got a glimpse of the peaked cap he wore to complete his role as Christine’s chauffeur.
‘I’ve got your package stored safely in the glove compartment.’
‘Well done,’ Christine barked. She rapped her knuckles on the partition, dismissing him.
The partition didn’t rise.
‘Which fast-food joint did you fancy, babe?’
I could see Christine was about to berate him for calling her babe and I said quickly, ‘McDonald’s will do, if there’s one close by. Other than that I’ll be happy with any burger.’
He offered a likeable salute before turning away and allowing the partition to rise. Christine glowered at me
and I instantly understood she did not like the idea that I was giving instructions to her and her lackey. Some streak of perversity inside me took great pleasure from her animosity and I felt another thrill surge through my loins.
‘You understood what I said before?’ she demanded hotly. ‘You can’t go up against the legion. That’s strictly off the agenda.’
I sipped the last of my vodka and finished the cigar. Squashing it into one of the door’s ashtrays I asked, ‘Where will I find the legion?’
She rolled her eyes.
‘Where will I find them?’
‘No one knows.’
When she was exasperated, she was nowhere near as attractive as when she was in her overbearing frame of mind. But I found I derived more pleasure from seeing her uncomfortable. I racked my brains to think of new ways to make her uneasy.
‘Certainly no vampire knows,’ Christine went on. ‘The legion of vampire hunters doesn’t share its secrets with our kind. We don’t have that kind of relationship.’
‘Carlos seemed to know a lot about them,’ I returned.
Her mood shifted. The thick atmosphere of arousal that had been between us disappeared. I sensed genuine horror and anger in her reaction. ‘Carlos san Miguel? You know Carlos san Miguel? You’ve spoken to him about your stupid quest to save your friend from the legion? What the hell were you thinking about, you silly girl?’
Her outrage was so strong it almost seemed justified. I hesitated before responding and wished I hadn’t drained all my vodka. ‘I was thinking about helping my friend,’ I snapped bitterly. ‘What’s wrong with my talking to Carlos about the problem?’
She rolled her eyes again.
The habit was beginning to irritate.
‘Carlos is a pig.’ She looked set to say more, blushed, and then shook her head. ‘You don’t want to deal with Carlos san Miguel. He’s untrustworthy and…’ Again, she seemed set to say more, and then appeared to think better of the idea. ‘He’s untrustworthy,’ she finished weakly. ‘You must never see him again, darling. Do you understand?’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you giving me orders now, Christine? I thought we’d already established that, in our relationship, I’m the one who gives orders and you’re the one who obeys.’
She tried to fix me with a withering look but it wouldn’t hold.
‘Take off your pants, Christine,’ I decided.
There had been enough talk about Carlos and I was already tired of hearing his name. I had enjoyed being aroused with Christine and I had found genuine pleasure in her humiliation. I wanted those feelings to come back.
‘You got to see my pussy before,’ I reminded her. ‘I want to see yours now. I want to see if you’ve got something I could enjoy tasting.’
She hesitated.
Although she was a woman who enjoyed being dominated it was obvious that a long time had elapsed since she found someone with a strong enough personality to force her to do their bidding. I didn’t mind her hesitation – it showed she had some reservations and I anticipated there would be a lot of fun breaking those down.
I met her eyes and licked my lips.
Christine’s hands fell to the waistband of her trousers. She removed the trousers of her suit with one quick flick of her wrists and sat awkwardly on her seat in the same black thong I had noticed earlier. I contemplated telling her to remove her blouse and jacket, and then decided that would be overkill. Nodding at her lap, raising an eyebrow, I said, ‘Take off the thong. Show me what you’ve got.’
She didn’t wholly obey the instructions this time.
Instead of removing the thong, she reached for the front panel and pulled it to one side. A thatch of dark red curls slipped from behind the triangle of cotton. I stared at the flushed pink split of her sex. The lips glistened with moisture. The rich fragrance of her pussy immediately reached my nose and I willed myself not to appear excited. Throwing myself into the role of a calm and cool dominatrix I glanced indolently at Christine and said, ‘Play with yourself.’
‘You’re a bossy little bitch, aren’t you, darling?’
I frowned and nodded at her lap. ‘You weren’t instructed to talk. You were told to play with yourself. Don’t make me repeat my instructions, Christine.’
Immediately, she spread herself open. The middle finger of her right hand stroked along the length of the inner lips. I knew she was glaring at me with a delicious blend of excitement and hostility but I chose to keep my gaze fixed on her sex and the show she was providing.
‘Put a finger inside,’ I demanded. ‘I want to see you penetrated.’
Christine did as I asked.
‘And another.’
Her hands shook with arousal and she trembled with an obvious need for release. If I hadn’t been there I knew she would have rubbed at herself with undignified haste and I quietly admired the effort she put into keeping her movements measured and controlled.
‘Go deeper,’ I instructed. ‘Push them inside as deep as they can go.’
She glared at me with open hostility.
But she forced both fingers to disappear inside. The slippery lips of her sex engulfed the digits. The position was awkward for her, with one hand holding the thong aside and the other forced uncomfortably into her sex. But it was clearly rewarding because a large smile blossomed across her lips.
‘Now pass those fingers to me,’ I commanded.
She snatched them from her sex and held them under my nose. They dripped with the clear musk of her arousal. The fragrance was intoxicating and, hungry to taste her, I took both fingers into my mouth. Licking her clean, savouring the taste and swallowing greedily, I studied Christine’s eyes as I kissed the nails of each finger.
‘Tell me you’ll help me, and I’ll lick your pussy,’ I murmured.
‘I can’t,’ she groaned.
Her tone was pained with genuine despair.
‘You want to.’
‘No.’ Her laughter was edged with genuine honesty. ‘I want you to lick my pussy. But I’ve got no interest in helping anyone other than myself. I definitely have no desire to earn the wrath of the council again. And that’s what will happen if I offer you my help.’
She tore her hand away from mine and glared angrily. Her forehead was slick with perspiration. Her eyes were wide with a resentment borne from honesty. With a bitter flick of her wrist, she tugged her hand away from her panties and allowed the thong to cover her dark red curls.
‘The legion are not fools. If you go against them, they’ll destroy you.’
I returned her glare with my own resentment.
‘This is just going round in circles, Christine. I have a friend who needs my help. Can’t you pretend to sympathise with that dilemma?’
The car door opened.
Night had made the world fully dark and the limousine’s interior light glowed more brightly than the sky outside. The toy-boy handed me a brown bag labelled with the McDonald’s arches and he winked suggestively.
I was beginning to like him and thanked him for the food.
He saluted smartly and then disappeared back to the driver’s seat.
‘Friends are like that burger you’ve got there,’ Christine decided. ‘They’re great while they’re with you. But when they’re gone, you know you can always get another.’
‘Profound,’ I said flatly.
She looked away. Her mouth was set in a tight grimace of frustration. Reaching into her coat pocket she produced a business card and then thrust it against my chest. ‘Here,’ she snapped angrily. ‘This is my number. If you can find someone else who’s fool enough to help you, give me a call. One person alone would never manage it. Two of us would be too great a struggle. But if there are three of us…’
She left the rest of the sentiment unsaid.
I nodded to show I understood.
‘Just don’t think of trying anything on your own,’ she said hotly. ‘And don’t think of calling me until you’ve got one other person to help you with th
e rescue.’
I took the card and mumbled startled thanks. Reaching past her, knocking on the partition, I shouted instructions to Christine’s toy-boy and told him where I now needed to go.
‘Give her that package,’ Christine snapped.
‘The one from Hartley’s?’
‘Unless you have another package sitting in the glove compartment,’ Christine snipped sarcastically.
The toy-boy leant awkwardly over to the passenger side and retrieved a brown-paper parcel. The name Hartley’s was emblazoned across a business card, stapled to the corner. I accepted the package and frowned at Christine.
‘What’s this?’
‘Specialist supplies,’ she said mysteriously. ‘You’ll need these before the night is over. I had them ordered so you were suitably prepared.’
I didn’t know what was in the package but I understood I was being given a gift that had been thought about. That meant a lot to me and I placed a grateful kiss against her cheek and told her to get dressed.
She shivered.
‘Only call me if you find someone who can help you,’ she breathed.
‘I’ll be calling you,’ I promised.
She laughed bitterly and shook her head. ‘You’re not going to find much help at the address you’ve just given to the grunge puppy. Who the hell do you know who would be willing to help you at St Germain’s church?’
Chapter Fourteen
Alan saw me as soon as I burst through the church’s doors. A look of outrage swept across his features and he reached for a crucifix.
I hurried down the aisle toward him.
He ran to meet me.
It had crossed my mind that Alan would not want to talk, but I hadn’t expected this level of hostility. His teeth were bared. His features were twisted into a frown of revulsion. We hurried to meet each other like an irresistible force on collision course with an immovable object.
The moment was reminiscent of something from a Matrix movie. We seemed to charge at each other forever, both of us blessed with superhuman speed and strength and neither of us prepared to meet the other until the tension had reached an unbearable climax.
Once Bitten Page 13