Amor and More

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Amor and More Page 8

by Radclyffe


  At the cabin, he pulled her from the backseat and draped her over his shoulder. The tremors in her body were calming down. She would more than likely be resistant at first. He had a cure for that too.

  Stupid doctors thought he was taking all that medication they put in the little white paper cups. No fucking way. His stockpile of meds was impressive.

  He plopped Camille into the one nice chair and then went to his bag. Into the bottle of water he pulled out he dropped two white tablets, shaking the bottle until they dissolved. A tool for every job.

  Her voice was shaky. “Philip, what have you done? Where’s Kara?”

  He smiled and came close. “No worries, Camille. Everything is going to be fine now.” He held the bottle to her lips.

  She shook her head violently. “What have you done?”

  “Shh, just drink.” She fought him and he grabbed her hair. “Drink.”

  Forcing her to hold still, he got a fair amount of the water down her throat even though an equal amount spilled down the front of her chest. It was enough. Give it a little time and she would be his in all ways.

  *

  The damn water, she thought as the haze in her head cleared. Philip had forced water down her throat and then everything had gone black. Now the room was swimming back into focus.

  A fire roared in the fireplace, making the dingy little cabin too warm. She tried to move, but her hands were still zip-tied together. It took her a few seconds to realize they were in front of her now. When he’d surprised her earlier, he’d secured her hands behind her back.

  The second thing she noticed was her clothing. She’d actually been naked when he’d zapped her. Her gaze dropped to her feet. Moccasins were laced to her knees, the embellishments intricate and beautiful. So was the elk tooth dress that covered her body. The missing Pine Leaf dress.

  “Philip, what are you doing?”

  He moved into her line of vision and smiled. Like her, he was dressed as a traditional Crow. “Good, you’re awake. Now we can begin.”

  “Begin what?” It was hard to think, the remnants of whatever he’d given her clouding her mind.

  “Why, the wedding, of course.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  He leaned in and kissed her on the lips. “Cammie, you’ve always known we were meant to be together. You’ve had your little flings, your wild days. Now it’s time to begin the rest of our lives. Together.”

  “I’m marrying Kara.”

  His face morphed into a mask of fury. “I never want to hear that name again. Do you understand me? Your time with that woman is over. We will never speak of it again.”

  The venom in his voice sent a shiver through her. Very quietly she asked, “What did you do, Philip?”

  He smiled, a ghost of the boy she thought of like a brother showing in his face. “Let’s just say I gave her a little shove in the right direction.”

  Cam closed her eyes and willed her mind to work. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard a ticking clock. Time was running out.

  “I’m not going to marry you.”

  He shrugged. “Of course you are. God put you on this earth for me.”

  “God has nothing to do with this.”

  His smile made her sick. “One man.” He pointed an index finger to his chest before turning it in her direction. “One woman.”

  One crazy, she thought. Her mind was clearing, and as it did, she could only see one way to escape. Closing her eyes, she concentrated with everything she had. I’m coming, Kara.

  Then she called the change.

  *

  No. No. No.

  He saw her start to change and was desperate to make it stop. They had to say their vows. Had to be married in the eyes of God. Nothing could stand in their way.

  The change was faster than he thought possible given the amount of medication he’d forced into her. How had she moved past the debilitating effects? He didn’t have time to think it through. The only chance he had to salvage this night of their joining was to change himself. He didn’t bother to take off his ceremonial garments. He didn’t have time.

  As Camille had done, he called the change, shaking off the human clothes as the wolf emerged. He’d thought she would bolt for the door the moment she changed, but she didn’t. Instead, fearless and strong, the large black wolf with the golden eyes stared at him, fangs bared.

  She was braced for battle.

  His heart was sad as he gave her what she wanted. He’d foreseen their future together as man and wife. The game had changed. He’d not spend his life loving her. His only option now was to spend his life mourning her.

  His howl split the night as he launched.

  *

  A fury that roared through her body came out in a splitting howl. The sight of the white wolf lunging toward her only increased her emotions. He’d killed Kara, and for that he would die. She would rip his throat out.

  As she readied for his attack, she was vaguely aware of a sound behind her and the rush of cool air that suddenly filled the room. Her teeth were bared, saliva dripping from her lips as his body hit hers with a giant thud. She sank her teeth into his fur, connecting with the flesh below.

  The gunshot that split the night barely registered as she shook his body back and forth, the white of his fur flashing before her eyes. Slowly, it struck her that he wasn’t fighting, and as she held on, the fur began to recede.

  Releasing her grip, she dropped him to the floor. As she watched, the white wolf began to change until before her paws lay only a man, a hole in his chest. His eyes were staring sightlessly up at the ceiling.

  She howled and then turned to the door.

  “Come back, Cam.”

  The wolf in her wanted to tear the human apart. The human in her recognized her father. In moments, she was back and sobbing. “He killed Kara.”

  He held her and stroked her hair. “No, baby, Kara’s fine. Jake and his crew found her unconscious at the base of one of the ridges. She’s got a concussion and one nasty cut on the side of her head, but she’s going to be okay.”

  “Really?” Could it be true?

  “I promise.”

  Relief flooded through her as Cam wrapped up in the coat her father handed her. “How did you know where to find me?”

  Her father rolled his eyes. “That dumbass Junior Petro. Process of elimination. Junior was the only one besides you that Philip would ever contact. He was drunk when we found him, and it only took about two minutes to get him to spill his guts. Came armed with silver bullets.”

  “It’s over, then? Really over?”

  He kissed the top of her head. “It’s really over. Now let’s get you to the hospital. We’ll check you out and then you can go check on your woman.”

  *

  The night couldn’t have been more beautiful if they’d custom-ordered it. The moon was golden, the sky sparkled with stars, and all their friends were there. Cam’s father, Kara’s adoptive parents and her biological sisters, everyone from the Spiritus Group: Riah and Adriana, Colin and Ivy, Tory and Naomi. It was a perfect night for a wedding.

  At first, she’d thought Pine Leaf’s dress was ruined after her change. Her father had picked up all the elk teeth, the moccasins, everything, and given it to one of the women back in Montana. She’d restored it and now Cam stood proudly wearing her ancestor’s dress on the balcony of Riah’s estate. With her hair braided and the choker that had also been Pine Leaf’s around her neck, she was ready to commit the rest of her life to Kara.

  When Kara came out of the doors on her father’s arm, Cam’s eyes filled with tears. Kara was always beautiful to her, but tonight, she was radiant. The dress she wore was long and white and gorgeous.

  This was all a dream come true, one she never really believed would happen for her, and yet it was. She was going to marry the woman she loved. For real.

  Five minutes later, her heart soared as she said those two simple words that meant so much: “I do.”
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  Meghan O’Brien is the author of six novels published by Bold Strokes Books, including Infinite Loop, The Three, Thirteen Hours, Battle Scars, Wild, and The Night Off. She has written multiple erotic and romantic short lesbian fiction stories, which have appeared in numerous Erotic Interludes and Romantic Interludes anthologies, also published by Bold Strokes.

  This story features characters from The Night Off.

  The Fantasy Exchange

  Meghan O’Brien

  Walking into the sex club downtown where Nat had once taken the occasional client, Emily was certain the decadent display in front of her was something she would never forget. Men and women were parked at tables, in booths, and on couches all over the club watching as a bound woman was flogged onstage.

  Nat must have seen her wide-eyed surprise at the show, because she leaned in close and whispered, “Maybe next time?”

  Tonight’s fantasy centered on exhibitionism, but nothing on the scale of being put on display for a crowd. Yet despite her trepidation about the idea of being marched onto center stage to withstand whatever punishment Nat might devise, a pleasant shiver ran up her spine when she imagined how the scene might unfold. “Maybe.”

  Nat kissed her cheek. “Come on, darling. Let’s find a seat.”

  She led them to a booth set far back from the stage, close to the bar. Emily sat down first, grateful when Nat asked if she wanted a drink. “Please. But just one.”

  Nat kissed the top of her head. “I’ll be right back.”

  Emily watched Nat walk away with her heart full of emotion. In a way, she hadn’t lived until she met Nat. Only a year together and absolutely everything about her life was different. Her baby sister was thriving in college while Emily enjoyed professional success without working herself to death, and the kindest, sexiest woman in this patch of this universe made her feel cherished every single day.

  Their relationship truly was something to celebrate. Emily grinned stupidly, which seemed to attract the attention of a dark-skinned butch leaning against the bar. The butch, who wore her hair slightly longer than Nat, raised an eyebrow and offered a sultry smile. Blushing, Emily looked back to the stage, where the flogging had finally come to an end. The woman secured to the metal frame heaved and shuddered as a feminine blonde set aside her flogger and picked up a harness and strap-on.

  Shocked and more than a little thrilled by what was about to happen right in front of her, Emily glanced in Nat’s direction and caught her gaze. Her partner leaned on the bar only a foot away from the flirtatious butch, and both of them watched Emily with lust-filled eyes. Nat tipped her head toward the woman beside her, then lifted her eyebrow.

  Emily nodded and looked away quickly. A year of exploring her sexuality and playing out private fantasies with a lover she trusted had expanded her boundaries beyond what she’d ever dreamed possible. Yet tonight she was going to put herself out there like she never had before. The thought of fulfilling Nat’s fantasy—one she’d known about since the very beginning of their relationship—excited her to the point she couldn’t breathe. But to add her own fantasy of being watched into the mix?

  She’d trusted Nat to guide her through challenging sexual scenarios in the past, and her trust never wavered. One utterance of their safe word—unicorn—and their play would end. She would be shielded from the eyes of strangers. Ultimately, she was in control.

  Nat returned to the table and set a drink in front of her, then slipped into the booth on her other side. Aware that the cocky butch at the bar still had an unrestricted view of her, Emily wasn’t disappointed to find that the stranger’s scrutiny hadn’t ceased.

  “She enjoys looking at you.” Nat waited until Emily met her eyes, then took a drink of her beer. “Can’t exactly blame her.”

  Face heating, Emily said, “It doesn’t bother you?”

  Nat chuckled. “No. You’re mine.” She set down her beer and scooted closer to Emily. Seizing her chin in a tender but firm grasp, she said, “Tell me.”

  “I’m yours.” When the intensity of the emotion that passed between them overwhelmed her, she lowered her eyes to stare at her lap. At Nat’s request, she’d worn a simple, flowing red dress. The material was soft and silky, and the fact she’d forgone stockings and wore only a lacy red bra and panties made her feel free, uninhibited, and sexy as hell. She was equal parts nervous and aroused, scared to see where tonight would go even as she yearned for Nat to take her there.

  Nat leaned in. “Do you like what you see onstage?”

  Without pulling out of Nat’s grip, Emily used her peripheral vision to glimpse the show that continued for the enthusiastic crowd. The blond domme stood behind her sub, one hand on her shoulder and the other on her hip. She thrust inside the restrained woman with one powerful motion, drawing a muffled scream from behind the ball gag in her slave’s mouth. Emily shuddered and looked at Nat, who gave her a knowing smirk.

  “Yes,” Emily said simply.

  “Are you wet?”

  She stared into Nat’s eyes without blinking. “Everything about being here with you tonight is making me wet.”

  “Open your legs.” Nat kissed her bottom lip before drawing away with a sharp nip. “Let me check.”

  Wondering whether the woman at the bar was still watching, Emily parted her legs. Nat released her chin and slipped her hand beneath her skirt. Emily gasped as Nat drew her finger along her panties, tracing a line over slick, sensitive labia and teasing her swollen clit. Barely breathing, Emily sat statue still and savored the possessive caress.

  Nat grinned. “I guess you are.” She removed her hand and nodded at the bar. “Your new friend can’t take her eyes off you.”

  “Did she see that?”

  Nat stared at something over Emily’s shoulder. “She did.”

  Emily’s cheeks were aflame. “Oh.”

  “Don’t play innocent. You love it.” Lowering her voice to a bare whisper, Nat spoke directly into her ear. “Why don’t you pull up your dress and show your new friend what belongs to me?”

  It had been a long time since one of Nat’s commands filled her with such exquisite embarrassment. Here they were—the moment of truth. If she couldn’t obey now, the success of their entire evening would be thrown into question. Yet as humiliating as it was to expose herself for a stranger in a public place, this was exactly the type of scenario she’d always fantasized about.

  She reached for the hem of her dress, but Nat stopped her. “Look at her when you do it.”

  Emily took a deep breath and turned in her seat. She made eye contact with the woman at the bar, who stared intently from beneath hooded lids. Nat curled an arm around her middle and tugged her closer, then cupped her breast lovingly. Kissing Emily’s earlobe, she murmured, “Lift your skirt and show her your wet panties, darling.”

  Only with Nat did she feel safe enough to do something so daring. Amazed at how far a shy accountant could come in just a year, Emily slid the hem of her skirt up her thighs until her panties were exposed. She could practically see the butch’s visceral reaction to the sight—nostrils flared, knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the bar.

  “Don’t stop there.” Nat kissed her neck. “Pull them to the side and give her a good, long look.”

  Even though she knew that there was limited visibility inside the dim club, Emily’s breathing grew ragged at the thought of revealing herself so blatantly. Already she could see that she’d caught the attention of a man farther down the bar who watched the space between her legs with an expression of poorly concealed anticipation. Strangely, the idea of having a mixed-gender audience wasn’t completely off-putting.

  Nat trailed a string of gentle kisses along her jaw. “Are you going to obey, or do I have to punish you?”

  Emily knew better than to answer both. Emboldened by the sound of the fucking onstage, she grasped the crotch of her panties and tugged them over, exposing her aroused sex to the cool air. She stared directly at the dark-skinned butch, who took a long p
ull of her beer without allowing her eyes to stray.

  “Don’t look away from her.” Nat dropped her hand from Emily’s breast to her pussy, then sank one long finger deep inside.

  Surprised by how quickly Nat was moving things along—but oh, so very grateful—Emily arched her back and moaned. The butch set her bottle down and licked her lips. She seemed to make eye contact with Nat for a moment, then boldly returned to watching Emily get fingered.

  “Does this satisfy your desire to be watched, my darling?” Nat withdrew, using her fingers to spread Emily’s labia open lewdly. “It’s a shame the lighting is so bad in here. Imagine if I had you trussed up in front of her. I could show off every inch of your beautiful body.”

  Emily’s pulse pounded at the promise in Nat’s words. She knew Nat’s fantasy, and the thought of allowing the stranger who watched her so hungrily bear witness as she was pushed to her limits was downright intoxicating. “Yes, mistress,” she said, shifting more fully into her role. “I’d like that.”

  “I know you would.” Nat sank back into her with two fingers, spreading them to stretch her to a point just shy of discomfort. “Do you think she has any idea about what a pain-loving little slut you are?”

  “I don’t know.” Emily inhaled, ready to keep speaking, but Nat cut her off by pulling out and delivering a sharp slap against her puffy labia.

  “Let’s show her,” Nat murmured, and slapped her again.

  Emily cried out in surprise as a delicious thrill of pain shot through her lower body. She forced her eyes open with effort, aroused by the sight of her admirer now fisting her hands at her sides, her drink wholly forgotten.

  But then, just as suddenly as everything started, it stopped. Nat pulled her panties back into place, tugged down the hem of her skirt, and ended the show. Emily felt nearly as bereft as the stranger looked. Turning slightly, she focused on Nat’s chin. “Mistress?”

 

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