Dangerous Ties

by Devyn Quinn

  Between fear and ecstasy lay a very fine line. He had no doubt Leia was in the throes of crossing it.

  Sliding his hands up her body, Sebastian cradled the softness of her breasts in his palms. So long he’d wanted to touch them, to hold her this way. Relishing each beat of her heart against his, he rubbed his thumbs across her nipples until they flooded with vivid color and pouted for so much more. When it was his mouth he ached to provide that much more with, to take the tender, scarlet tips between his lips and suckle hard, he turned the cooling nip of the Camaloe on them.

  “Oh.” Sultry breath cruised past her lips as her hips shoved against his.

  Bringing his lower half back several inches to safety, he pushed his gel-coated fingers into her body. “I need to go to the surface for a while.” Her pussy sucked at his fingers, taking them deeper inside her slickness. Biting back his groan and the raw want to slam back against her slit and give her the hardness of his cock, he lined her inner walls. “This should keep you busy until I return.”

  Hating the move even as he made it, he pulled his fingers free and stepped back. Reducing the lantern light with his mind, he made his way toward the wall that was once again cloaked in darkness.

  “A word of advice, slave.” For the sake of his rock-solid dick, he didn’t look back at the postergirl for ecstasy he knew she would make. “The more you resist your body’s desires, the harder the Camaloe will fuck you. It won’t stop for your pleadings. It won’t stop until I will it to do so. Be a good pet, give in to your wants, and I just might let you sleep tonight.”

  Leia snarled at the wall that was once again encased in blackness. The cell felt bleak again, empty, and somehow she knew that Sebastian was gone. That he hadn’t stayed behind, lurking in the darkness, waiting with baited anticipation for her to come undone with uncontrollable desire.

  Smart move. He would only have been disappointed when she failed to deliver the show of orgasmic proportions he was expecting.

  The Camaloe filled her as it had before, hardening until her vagina felt stuffed full, then starting into an insistent pumping. As he’d cautioned, this time there was no relief. This time it flexed inside her, contracting and expanding, pulsing. Flickering sensual ache throughout her pussy and into her limbs.

  But she wouldn’t come. She would damned well not climax when she was nearly convinced that it was him making her body want to do so. Want, period, at the hands of a stranger, of a controller. Of a man who insisted on calling her slave and holding her captive in a barren cell with no exit.

  How could she come in those circumstances and ever respect herself? How could she have degraded herself by pleading with him not to coat her sex with the fresh Camaloe?

  How could she want to fondle herself so maddeningly bad?

  The Camaloe drilled into her sheath now, dodging up inside her like a frantically vibrating bullet. Only, this was no ordinary bullet. This bullet came equipped with a tongue. Its touch near sandpaper rough, it licked against her highly aroused tissue, lashed up into her core, and then darted back out again to circle the hard nub of her clit.

  So real that if Leia wasn’t looking down at her shaved sex and well aware she was alone in this cell, she would think someone was between her thighs, eating at her cunt.

  She’d had a handful of lovers since Ken, but always she’d been in control. Always saw that things never went beyond her comfort level. Everything that happened here today went well beyond her control, into the forbidden. Into a dark, sensual place she didn’t understand or want.

  Liar.

  “I’m not lying!” she bit back to no one. Or someone. Whoever the hell it was who kept sticking these phantom thoughts in her head.

  Sebastian. Aubrie. Ken from his vantage at the devil’s right hand.

  Who didn’t matter. All that mattered was she didn’t want—“Ahhh God!”

  Electric sensation zapped through her like a bolt of sexually charged lightning as the Camaloe accelerated to an even greater speed, an unreal setting. Nothing replicable by human technology. The imaginary tongue moved with it, licking fiercely up into her pussy, whipping at her interior walls, mastering them, attempting to master her.

  Succeeding.

  The breath wheezed out of Leia, parching her throat while her sex grew unbearably tender, wet. Hungry. Her hips shoved forward, grinding at nothing but air.

  She needed contact. Needed to feel Aubrie’s skilled mouth on her again.

  Or Sebastian’s.

  Yes. Those firm lips. Those arms corded with delicious muscle banded around her. His long, thick ebony hair sliding between her finger as the length of his steely erection slid into her from behind.

  Touching her. Taking her.

  The Camaloe, cool at first contact, heated to near burning. Her cunt quaked with the sudden change. Her legs trembled. She rocked as she’d done earlier. Now it wasn’t a gentle or soothing or lovely sensation, but dark and needful and dangerous.

  Dangerous to her peace of mind, to her sense of self.

  What was she doing, wanting to give in, aching for it?

  But, really, how shameful would it be to submit? He’d instructed her that the fucking sensation would only heighten if she fought her desire. She couldn’t take any more than what she was already being given. Couldn’t handle a harder, faster pace without her pussy splintering apart.

  Somehow she’d partially escaped her bindings while she’d dreamed before, and her fingers flexed with the need to do so again. To bury between her labia and finger herself to a final completion before she lost her mind along with her pride.

  Damn it, she couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t.

  She didn’t need to. The imaginary tongue did it for her. Ending its stabbing game inside her sheath, it covered her clit. Pressed hard at the tender bud. Harder.

  Currents of heat and pleasure sizzled down her thighs, erupted in her core, and raced her heart with pure relief. She rocked back hard, until she felt the rod at her ass again, pressing firmly between her butt cheeks, calling forth Sebastian’s wickedly sexy face, and his solid cock rubbing along her anus, shoving up into her asshole.

  Oh, yes. Yes. So close. “Almost.”

  “Hungry?” A deep male voice sliced through the fog of ecstasy.

  The tongue ceased its sensual torment. The Camaloe followed, shrinking inside her until it was nothing but a glimmering, needful ache.

  Sebastian appeared before her clouded vision. His lips weren’t firm as they were so often, but wearing the wickedly sexy grin from her illicit imaginings, the one that made her feel so certain they’d met before. Coupled with the low lighting, the grin carved shadows along his cheekbones, making them appear leaner than ever, him hungrier—not for food but something far more primal.

  It was food in his hand, though—a covered silver platter of something that watered her mouth and flared her nostrils from the first inhale.

  Leia’s gaze cleared as the cutting edge of lust receded, and she realized he’d changed his clothing while away. He wore jeans now. Simple faded blue jeans and a black T-shirt. Attire she’d seen on any number of men and never felt affected by it.

  The way the material molded to his chiseled body, exuding his sheer strength and dark beauty, affected her more than the wild look afforded by the loincloth. This look made Leia feel both intimidated and feminine by comparison.

  Feminine…

  It was something she should feel naturally, given she was a female, yet she didn’t often believe the word fit her sizable frame. Even less did she feel soft and small…and cherished. An odd thought, yet somehow, as he stood there grinning, with friendly warmth lighting his typically obsidian eyes and holding food made specifically for her consumption, she did.

  Damn his black soul for making her feel that way.

  But she could use it. If any part of him truly did value her, then he wouldn’t allow her to starve. If she refused to eat, he would have to let her go.

  5

  Sebastian sat the plat
ter of food on the chest against the wall, taking his time in removing the cover to give his body a moment of reprieve. Changing his clothes had been a wise choice. If he’d been wearing the loincloth when he walked in on Leia, collar bound and so obviously near to orgasm, his cock would not only be sliding past the leather, but quite likely be buried inside her.

  Pushing out a frustrated breath, he grabbed the platter of steak, broccoli, and a water glass, and turned back to her. “Sit down.”

  As she had before, she acted subdued, sinking down to sit cross-legged with her back against the wooden support rod and her tethered wrists resting against the rise of her rear. Her focus remained on the ground.

  Hell, that was a mixed blessing. Sitting as she was now, her labia parted, he could see up into her pussy, see how deep pink and creamy the Camaloe had left her.

  Food. She needs food, he reminded himself sternly.

  Going down on his knees beside her, Sebastian rocked back on his haunches and stabbed a forkful of steak. “Open up.”

  Leia’s gaze stayed downcast, her body still. Her mind wasn’t so silent. He could see clearly the game she played. If there was one thing that hadn’t changed when he moved into his middle life, it was his thirst for a challenge. This challenge he knew well he would win; still, he felt the white-hot adrenaline rush of opposition.

  Bringing the fork to his mouth, he took hold of the tender meat with his teeth and pulled it from the tines. He didn’t need those things considered basic essentials by mortals to survive, hadn’t felt the pangs of hunger or the pull of exhaustion in nearly a decade. Still, he could appreciate the meat’s succulent flavor, the juices that exploded over his taste buds. He let her know all about it with a groan of immense satisfaction.

  Her lips quivered. Her nostrils flared. He was on the verge of laughing over her obstinacy when she looked up at him. There was hunger in the depths of her green eyes, oh yes, but it had as much to do with lust as famine.

  “Dead people eat?” she asked.

  “I told you, I’m not dead.” Stabbing another bite of steak, he brought the fork to her mouth and pressed the tips of the tines against her lips. “Don’t make me slice your mouth open. Eat.”

  You would do it, too, you bastard.

  So stunned by how clearly her thought came to him, Sebastian almost missed that she took the meat into her mouth. He didn’t miss that she spit it back at him. Steak and saliva bounced off his chest, and he fought an internal war of appreciation for the bold move and displeasure for how completely she disobeyed him.

  The displeasure won out. It had to.

  Balancing the platter on his thigh, he summoned a whiplike vine into his free hand. Understanding dawned in Leia’s eyes and mind, along with raw terror, seconds before the tail of the vine licked at the bare, rounded flesh of her belly.

  Her mouth fell open with her gasp, and he shoved another forkful of steak inside. “Eat, Leia.” Rough demand centered the words as he flicked the vine back into the air. “You need the energy.” More important, he didn’t want to have to swat her for real. The vine’s lash had been little more than a stinging caress. He could change that, if she made him.

  Disgust filled her for the action, but to his relief, she chewed—the bite of steak in her mouth and then two more. He brought the glass of water to her lips, letting her take down several long drinks before setting it back on the platter.

  “You can conjure up anything at your will?” she asked as he stabbed a spear of broccoli.

  Her voice was almost even, almost sedate. It calmed Sebastian’s heart when he hadn’t even realized how quickly it had raced. Earning her trust mattered. Making her like him along the way shouldn’t. Much as he would tempt his chance of moving on by killing for that very thing, he couldn’t have a future with Leia. She had a long life ahead of her. His was well past him. “I don’t conjure up a thing. I merely transport items that exist in nature and use my influence over them as needed.” He slanted a look at the vine whip. “I won’t hesitate to transport something much larger and more painful than this vine, should I deem it necessary.”

  If only I could withstand the pain…

  Still weak was her thought. She didn’t yet understand her tolerance for the right kind of pain, her pleasure for the same. She would.

  As the bite of broccoli slid off the fork and into her mouth, he summoned the Camaloe back into action. No soft pulsing that kept her aware of the herb’s existence inside her sex as had been the case while she ate those first few bites of steak, but an insistent expanding and contracting that brought every sexual nerve in her body on end by the time she was done chewing.

  Her mind told him that…and her moan.

  Leia’s eyes narrowed accusingly as the husky sound left her and her ass jerked off the ground, shoving her open pussy blatantly forward.

  With a feral grin, he pushed another bite of meat into her mouth. “You always have loved your steak.”

  “It’s not the damned steak,” she ground around the meat.

  She took that bite and several more down with huge, desperate chomps as he continually upped the Camaloe’s pacing. In truth, nothing filled her but a thin layer of gel and his imagination, yet Sebastian could see her pussy spreading, parting wider with each wild pump. Her ass bucked off the ground again, and her arms wrenched at the vines securing her wrists together. The effect the move had on her breasts, making them jostle and dance, was too great to ignore.

  He swatted the tail of the vine against one heavy mound. Red blossomed in its wake, brightening the flesh and puckering her nipples on contact. Her lips parted, hot air streaming out. Words threatened to follow.

  “You won’t speak another word without my approval!”

  “You ass—”

  The vine arced up, coming down between her thighs, to her parted juncture, where her pussy was swollen and ripe. She sucked in a violent breath and juices gushed from her sex. “That’s what happens when you disobey me, slave.”

  Lust, raw and intense, sizzled in Leia’s blood. Loathing gleamed in her eyes. Her cunt contracted wildly, more as he took the Camaloe from cool to warm, then warmer. In her mind, the gel grew in girth, filling her, fucking her in a way no mortal man ever had or could.

  Her ass ground against the dirt, her thighs jerking up off the ground. He swatted her cunt with the tail of the vine, harder this time. Her eyes snapped closed and her head went wild, thrashing side to side, whipping her hair around her flushed face. “Stop! I can’t take any more.”

  She could, though. So much more.

  Coming to his feet, Sebastian increased it all. The speed of the Camaloe, the pelt of the vine whip. The heat pooling in her core, seeping its way outward and upward, into her belly and chest, until he could sense the incredible weight in her nipples. Feel how hard she fought the urge to come. Fought her own sensual nature.

  “Just keep talking,” he goaded.

  I won’t come. I won’t.

  She chanted the words in her mind, again and again. Even so, shudders quaked through her. Tension pulled at her from every angle, red hot and electric. He could feel it leaking off her, feel it inside his own body, in the hardness of his dick, in the violent beat of his heart.

  He brought the vine down against her thigh. She squeaked and then mewled. “You had your chance to come freely while I was away. Now you won’t come without my permission. Who am I? You may speak.”

  I won’t come.

  Don’t fight it. You want this.

  No.

  Yes.

  Body and soul dueled in Leia’s mind until it seemed she wasn’t even aware he was still with her. “My name?” he demanded, bringing the vine to her other thigh.

  No.

  Yes. Yes!

  “Sebastian.” The word whimpered out. Her eyes opened a fraction.

  He saw it there. Need. Recognition. And finally, surrender. Liberation from the guilt that plagued him from the first lick of the vine filled Sebastian even as he brought the tail whip
ping down between her labia to strike against her blood-red clit. “Wrong. Who am I?”

  “A bastard.”

  No malice existed in the response. Still, it was disobedience that he met with another swat to her clit. “Try again. Who am I?”

  “Master,” she supplied in a low, needy, drugged-sounding voice. A voice that ensured she’d well crossed the line from fear to ecstasy. “You’re my master,” she spoke breathlessly. “Please. Please let me come.”

  He kept his sigh inside, just barely. “You may come, slave.”

  He couldn’t keep his body anchored. Couldn’t leave the job to the Camaloe and the erotic lash of the vine. Leia’s eyes were closed again, her mind far gone with passion. She’d remember the exquisite pleasure and all that led up to it, but little about the final details. He used that knowledge for his own greed, allowing himself to go down on his hands and knees on the dirt, to bury his head between her fleshy thighs, and his tongue to spear up inside her cunt and lap at her cream.

  “Uhhh…so real.” Her hips shot up. Her pussy spasmed forcefully around his tongue as orgasm spiked and then sizzled through her.

  Too real, Sebastian silently agreed while he devoured her luscious juices, lick for gluttonous lick. But if this was all he would have of her—all that he could have of her—then he had to take more.

  Pushing two fingers into her hot, wet cunt alongside his tongue, he took her higher with teeth and lips and hands. Met her there as she fell from the crest of climax and took her right back to the screaming edge of orgasm.

  The breath squealed out of Leia as she fought for air, for reprieve. Her hips attempted to rear back while her sex continued to grip his tongue tight. “I can’t take any more,” she sobbed.

  You can. You have before, and you will again.

  Without pardon, he tongued her sweet pussy, fucked her channel to the limit with the tips of his fingers, and thrust her right back over the edge, into a place where the lines of pain and pleasure mercifully blurred.