by Dakota Trace
He gave a disgruntled sigh. “This goes no further until I know the extent of the damage, little one. I can’t risk making it worse.”
“Please, no…don’t, Sir!” She tried to roll away, to move out of his reach. It was hopeless, she knew, being bound the way she was.
He drew back, frustration evident on his face. The submissive inside of her longed to sooth it away, to let him see what he wanted, but if she did he’d stop for sure. For once in her life, she wanted something more than she wanted to obey.
He grabbed her shoulder to stop her. She had a feeling he wanted to shake her. “Why are you fighting me on this?”
She bit her lower lip. “You’ll leave, Sir.” Staring up into his determined expression, she knew she didn’t have a choice. He’d see them whether she’s wanted him to or not.
His scowl eased. “And if I promise to stay and finish this?“
“Then I’d tell you it happened earlier, when Ramses attacked me.” She exhaled heavily. “I wouldn’t scream for him. A banshee’s cry is detrimental to other demons. I couldn’t risk it.”
A fine tremor shook her body when he peeled away the bandage on her left side. She could only imagine what he saw. As a recipient of demon wounds inflicted when she’d crossed the wrong demon while delivering a soul to Bilé, she knew all too well what they looked like. They would be red streaked and swollen with the black centers. Luckily with her godling blood, she never caught the fever as other banshee’s did.
He picked up a tube. She watched as he smeared clear ointment on his index finger. “So the ass-hat dug his nails into your sides? I’m surprised you don’t have demon fever.” Keeping his touch light, he smoothed the ointment over the puncture wounds.
She wanted to giggle at the light touch, but manage to resist as he tended the wounds on her other side. “No, Sir. I’m immune to it. Come tomorrow they will be gone and all I’ll have is the memory.” She gave him a tremulous smile. “I’d like to make another memory to replace it, Sir.”
Picking up the soiled bandages, he tossed them into a nearby trash can, before opening a small metal box she hadn’t noticed before. She realized it was a first aid kit when he drew out two clean bandages. After he soothed them on, he leaned over her with one arm. “Are you sure, Braelyn? We don’t have to do this.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek.
Her heart raced. “More than anything in the world, Sir.”
He gave a brief nod. “Of course you would.” He brushed his lips over hers. “But I won’t forget what Ramses did, little one. His day will come— after.”
“After, Sir?” She knew she sounded breathless but didn’t care.
“Yes…“ His eyes glowed with passion. “…after I’ve driven you out of your mind with pleasure.”
Chapter Nine
Handling a pair of silver-tipped bone chopsticks, Flannery turned each cotton ball with deft movements, making sure the rubbing alcohol completely saturated them. He rested the chopsticks on the edge of the dish before picking up one of the glass globes, examining it for any cracks or other deformities, paying close attention to the curved lip. A good Dom insured all of his equipment was in order before allowing it to ever touch his sub.
The last thing he wanted after finding the wounds on Braelyn’s luscious body was to accidently cut her with a chipped globe. Taking this extra time also insured he didn’t hurt her. He needed a few more minutes to calm the berserker rage which had flared earlier.
“You’ve said you’ve seen fire-cupping before, little one?” He set aside the cup he’d been examining.
“Yes, Sir. I’ve seen Master Anithal perform several times.” Her face flushed. “That was, of course, until my mother found out what was going on. After that I was banned from the Underworld unless I was specifically delivering a soul to Bilé.”
He’d met Braelyn’s mother, Aislin years before, when he’d first joined Bile’s guard. As the leader of the banshee clan, she was a formidable enemy if crossed. If he’d been a bit younger and less experienced, he’d have thought twice about touching her daughter. “A bit overprotective, isn’t she? You are a grown woman, not a child.”
A giggle escaped her. “Yes, I know, but telling Aislin the Great that her little girl is grown, is like spitting into the wind.” Her nose wrinkled. “Not a good idea.”
A low chuckle rumbled free of him, freeing the last of his berserker’s rage. “I imagine not.” He checked the bindings on her wrists once more. “So you watched Anithal. He’s a Master at cupping. While I can’t claim to be as great as him, I can guarantee you will find what you are looking for, Braelyn.”
“I hope so, Sir.”
He couldn’t help but smile at the longing in her voice. “We need to discuss a few things before we start…”
“More things? Are we ever going to do this?” she wailed.
He stiffened. “Yes. I need to find out your hard limits and few other things before we start. Once this is done, we’ll play.”
She gave him a stubborn pout and he was sure if she could’ve, she’d have crossed her arms. He had a sinking feeling she’d agree to anything he said to simply move things along.
“I’ll go first.” She gave him a look of disbelief. “Even Doms have hard limits, little one. Things that I refuse to do to a sub.” He held up his hand and began to tick them off on his fingers. “One, no blood-letting— not only is it not a turn-on but the smell of blood rouses my inner berserker. Two, severe pain —I won’t beat you until you’re black and blue. Three, while I’m in a scene, I don’t share. I need to be in complete control and another Dom would undermine that. And four— don’t expect me to ever offer a collar. I will never willing collar any woman, and the moment a sub starts hinting about it, we’re through. I’ll never scene with them again.”
He watched as his words sank in. A brief flare of emotions flitted across her face so quickly he thought his eyes might’ve been deceived. “Do you understand?”
She nodded. “Of course, Sir. You won’t cut me, beat me, and this is temporary, but while it lasts it will be only us.”
He nodded. “Now I need to know your limits.” He dragged his thumb over her collar bone. “What I can or can’t do to this sexy little body. How you differ from my demoness subs. Fire? Is it true you can’t bare the touch of a direct flame?”
“Yes, Sir.” Her gaze darted away from his. “Your limits are similar to mine. I don’t want to be beaten or cut. Although I wouldn’t be adverse to that spanking you promised earlier.”
He turned her head towards him, needing to see her eyes. “I’ll have to see what I can do. Anything else?”
“You’re going to need to gag me, Sir.” Her eyes brightened with unshed tears.
He wanted nothing more than to gather her up in his arms. “I told you before your cry will not hurt me.”
“You just said one of your hard limits is that this be temporary. If you don’t gag me, this will turn into a permanent pairing.”
He stilled, trying to absorb what she was attempting to tell him. “Excuse me?”
She focused so intently on a spot over his shoulder, he was tempted to turn and see what she was staring at.
“Braelyn?”
“It’s a safe guard, Flannery. I can’t promise to keep my mating song under control if what you’ve promised is true. I barely kept it under control the last time. It’s better to gag me than take the chance. If you use a ball gag on me, you’ll still be able to hear me, but I won’t be able to form the words of the song. Or we can use hand signals instead of safe words.”
He stared at her. “Your banshee song can mate us?”
Her eyes met his. “Yes, Sir— or so I’ve been told.”
“And if I want to risk it?” Horror filled him when he realized what he’d just said. What the hell was wrong with him? He had never even thought of taking a mate, especially after watching his mother waste away from denying her bond with his father. He’d decided as a teen he’d never allow his little head to thin
k for his big head. And all it’s taken is one little banshee to shake that belief. Fuck I shouldn’t do this… But it was like arguing with a force of nature— his body simply didn’t care.
Shaking her head gave him a sad smile. “But I don’t want to. My luck being what it is, Sir, I’ll end up mating a man who sees this as temporary scene. I’d rather be gagged than take the risk.”
He nodded. “Alright, I’ll do it since you feel that strongly about it. Give me just a moment.” Moving towards the cedar chest resting at the foot of his bed, he opened the lid, pawing through the various toys, restraints and other devices he used during a scene. He finally found an unopened ball gag.
Rising, he removed the outer package as he entered his adjoined bathroom. Rinsing it out in the sink, he tried to keep his mind blank. He was afraid to think too deeply about his resentment of having anything between his luscious banshee’s cries and him. After drying his hands on the hand towel, he carried the clean toy back into the bedroom. He could feel her gaze as he approached the bed.
Sitting down on its edge, he had to ask one more time. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “It’s for the best, Sir. With me gagged there will be no chance of me inadvertently binding us together. Or of me conceiving a child.”
He sighed. “All right. Lift your head and open your mouth.” He eased the gag into her mouth. Pressing it gently behind her teeth, he then secured it at the back of her head. After wrapping her hands around a stress ball he kept in his bedside drawer, he picked up the lotion. “If you need me to stop, simply release the stress ball.”
Opening the bottle, he poured some into his hand. Rubbing it over her beautiful breasts, he explained what was going to happen. “I’m going to use cups on both your front and back.” He tweaked both nipples, smiling when she whimpered. “First I will attach two of the smaller cups to these beauties…” After giving them a firm squeeze, he released them. “Then I’ll have you roll onto your hands and knees, little one. Don’t worry about them falling off however, the suction will be quite strong. Now do you understand what I want?”
She gave a vigorous nod.
“Good.” Reaching for his supplies once more, he took a long match and lit it from the white pillar candle that had been flickering for the past hour. Then using the chopsticks, he retrieved one of the cotton balls from the dish. All it took was a quick flick of his wrist for it to ignite. He picked up one of the smaller glass globes. “I do believe this will do.”
* * * * *
Braelyn stared intently when he ran the flaming ball of cotton around the inside of the globe. The flames were mesmerizing. They flickered and sent a spectrum of color cascading across the surface of the glass. A startled gasp escaped her when he removed the flame to immediately place the heated lip against her nipple. She’d expected to feel the warmth of the glass but not the suction. Within a mere heartbeat, the air inside cooled and tugged hard at the peak of her breast, drawing more of her sensitive flesh inside. It was much stronger than she’d expected but she decided she wouldn’t change it for anything. It felt wonderful.
She moaned into the gag when he lightly tapped the dome, sending a vibration though her captured flesh.
“There’s one. Are you ready for the next one?”
Nodding, she watched with bated breath as he repeated the procedure. A low sound built in his throat as his gaze devoured her. Inhaling sharply, she braced herself for him to tap the globe the same way he had the other. For the vibration that she knew she’d feel all the way to her sex. Her nerves pulled tighter when instead he lifted one finger to trace around the edge of the cup.
When he dragged his tongue across his lower lip, she nearly melted into the bed. He looked as if he wanted to eat her up. “Beautiful.” His one word of praise touched her more than a hundred words from another. Stretching across her, he unhooked her wrists from the headboard, his hands massaging her arms. “On your knees, little one.”
It took her several tries, but with a bit of help, she managed to tuck her knees under her and move into the position he wanted. As he looped the restraints over the hook above her head, she suddenly realized how diabolical her Sir was.
By pulling her hands above her head and attaching her the way he had, it pulled her body forward at such an angle her breasts swung freely. By adding the weight of the globes, she bordered on drowning in her own pleasure. Her gag caught her muffled plea when he tapped the side of one breast, causing both to move.
The cups pulled even harder on her nipples. Oh my god, oh my god. It took all her concentration to not come right then and there. Then she caught a glimpse of him retrieving the lotion bottle. Expecting him to warm it with his hands like before, the cold feel of the lotion hitting the heated skin between her shoulder blades tore a garbled sound of ecstasy from her.
A satisfied sound came from behind her. “Hmmm, definitely bring ice next time.” After rubbing in the lotion, a few moments passed. She assumed he was preparing more cups. She wasn’t prepared for the vulnerability in his voice. “This is uncharted territory for me, little one. Demonesses won’t allow me to cup their backs due to their wings. The fact you will is…precious to me.”
Her heart melted and she fell head over heels for the godling mastering her with such gentleness. She’d never felt so cherished or loved in her life. Even if it’s only temporary. The sobering thought was eclipsed by heat as he attached the first globe at the top of her shoulder. Hissing at the pleasure, she pressed back against the hand holding the cup in place until it sealed.
“Shhh, that’s one.” His breath teased her ear. “Seven more to go.” His fingers trailed down her spine. “I’m going to put one here,” they brushed the area below her shoulder blade. “Then here…” He touched a spot several inches lower in the middle of her back. “And finally here…” She shook her head in desperation when he brushed a spot so sensitive at the base of her back that no one ever touched it.
To the banshees it was a sacred spot, only to be touched by their mate and only for the purpose of procreating. It could not only trigger her mating song, but it was the key to insuring conception between the male banshee and his chosen female. The idea of her Sir paying special attention to it sent her body into overdrive. She could feel the mating song already bursting to be free. Thank the gods he gagged me.
“Oh, yes, I will.” His teeth slid over her earlobe. “And there is nothing you can do other than safeword to stop me.” He soothed his hand over the swell of her ass before teasing the crack with the tips of his fingers. “You know…” he started in a conversational tone, “we’ve never talked about anal sex, little one.” His thumb brushed over her rosette. “Would you let me do that? I’d love to take both of your virginities.” His hoarse growl was accompanied by a gentle nip along her collarbone.
Her mind whirled; she never thought a Dom would ask for permission. He’d simply take, demanding her submission and she’d obey because the books said she had to. She’d never thought he’d ask, giving her the choice.
“Yes, or no, Braelyn. Will you give me this tight little ass?” He pressed harder against the tightly furled entrance to her bottom.
Her garbled yes accompanied her nod. She tried to widen her stance, wanting to give him more room to play.
“Shh. Relax for me.” The sound of the cap being flipped up again warned her of his intentions and the cold lotion didn’t startle her this time. Using it as lube, he slowly opened her, taking his time until it felt as if he had shoved his whole hand inside of her. The building pressure had her shaking in with desire. She wouldn’t have been surprised if her thighs were coated with her wetness. “That’s two fingers, little one. You’re so damned tight, I’m gonna lose my mind once I get inside.”
It took a bit more time, but he didn’t seem rushed. He continued to praise her, to tell her how much he loved the feel of her, and how much he couldn’t wait to feel her wrapped around his cock. She was a screaming, writhing bundle of lust by the time he told her s
he had accepted all four of his fingers. “Good girl. Now relax a bit more for me.”
She wanted to scream she couldn’t relax; she needed to come but knew even if she hadn’t been gagged, she wouldn’t. She couldn’t risk ruining this by unleashing her banshee cry, despite his assurance it wouldn’t harm him. Old habits died hard. The intrusion of something cold, hard, and slippery replacing his fingers caused her sheath to spasm.
“Shh, it’s a plug; it will keep you ready for me.” His hands stroked over her sides. “…while I finish what I was doing. I still have seven more cups to go. Especially the ones that go right here…” He rubbed the skin at the base of her back, sending waves of building tension through her. The feel of another’s touch there was so foreign that she was on sensation overload.
The next few minutes flew by in a blur as she floated along with the feel of heat and then suction as he attached the various cups. She barely was aware of what was happening around her. She idly wondered if she was slipping into what her books called sub-space.
Then he placed the last cups. Two at the base of her back and was brought back to reality, her body ready to vault from the bed. The suction had her teetering on the edge of orgasm. She jerked against the restraints holding her captive, looking for a way out.
“Shhh, little one, calm down...I’m not hurting you.”
She mewed at his reassurance, wanting nothing more than to be free, to escape the demands of her body. The rhythmic glide of his hands slowly brought her out of her panic, until she was able to accept the feel of cups drawing on her mating area.
* * * * *
His chest heaving like bellows, Flannery clung to his control by mere threads. He’d know the moment she’d shook her head when he’d touched the base of her back, that the rumors around banshee mating were true. His little sub had never felt the touch of a man’s hand against the area of what her people considered sacred. The fact she was allowing his touch told him volumes. More than any conversation he’d ever had with a submissive. She could’ve dropped the stress ball but she hadn’t. She was truly his for the taking.