by Anthology
He pulled away and shook his head, but didn’t respond. Instead, he circled her, walking around the perimeter of the bed, his gaze burning her alive. Her legs had started to tremble and she was on the verge of weeping, but couldn’t say why.
Then his hands were on her, stroking her hair, trailing around her waist and then up to tease her breasts. White-hot lust hit her right between the thighs and she cried out. He plucked her stiff nipples in turn until she writhed and groaned, all the while sliding the slippery silken fabric over her skin.
“Close your eyes,” he muttered.
She did as she was told, but couldn’t deny the rush of fear. When he slipped the necktie over her eyes, she flinched, panic making her heart pound against her ribs.
She was going to hate this. She hated the dark, and—
“Zara?”
Gabriel’s voice was guttural, thick with need, and for some reason, just hearing it centered her.
It would be all right. Gabriel would make it all right.
She moistened her dry lips and choked out a response.
“Yes, Sir?”
His sharp intake of breath reverberated through the room. Still, he didn’t touch her.
“Sink lower onto your thighs,” he said, his tone clipped and firm. “And arch your back.”
Her stomach did a free-fall and she resisted the very real temptation to collapse onto her belly and curl into a ball. She was strong.
She sank lower into position and gasped when he laid a warm hand on her lower back.
“Good. That’s beautiful.”
Her pulse went into overdrive as his words washed over her. His praise sent a gush of heat between her thighs and she desperately wished she could tear off the blindfold and look into his eyes, but the feeling was short-lived because then, his hands were on her again. Tracing the contour on her hips, sliding over her ass and squeezing. Slipping between her thighs.
She moaned as his fingers dipped into her slick folds.
“Ah, love, this pleases me more than I can say.”
The huskiness of his voice was a reward of its own because she could hear the want there. The need that echoed her own.
“Yes, god, yes. Gabriel, can you—”
“No speaking, Zara.”
She tried to listen to what he was saying, but he was doing the most sublime things with his index finger.
“Okay.”
“Focus, Zara. You are to speak only when spoken to. Is that understood?”
She nodded helplessly, grinding her hips backward to urge him deeper, to get him to slide his finger all the way into her aching sex.
“I need a verbal when I ask a question. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she muttered.
“Yes?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“That’s ten, love.” His voice was almost hypnotic now, and she let it wash over her like a balm as he spoke. “Five for the interruption and five because you forgot to call me Sir.”
Ten…
It took a second for his meaning to sink in, and when it did, she froze. The fear came, hard and fast. Followed by a wave of nerves so acute, her thigh muscles began to tremble. But she couldn’t deny, beneath it all, there was a sense of anticipation. A thick, hot, urgency that settled low in her belly at the thought of this punishment.
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered. She nearly cried out when he took his hand away but she managed to hold it in. There was the sound of shuffling feet behind her, and then more noise she couldn’t identify—the rumple of clothes? A strange patter.
“Posture,” he reminded her softly, his voice close…as if he was right behind her.
She adjusted her body and tensed, waiting for what would happen next.
“Cry out if you need to,” he said. “But don’t jerk away from me.”
She opened her mouth to agree, but all that came out was a choked groan as his hand came crashing down on her ass, hard. She tensed, but didn’t pull away from him or break from her posture.
“Nice. That’s so nice, love,” he murmured. She’d barely caught her breath when the next slap came just as quick, twice as hard, in the same spot.
She bit her lip and swallowed a grunt as the sting intensified.
“You’re doing so well, Zara. I can’t wait to reward you.”
She didn’t know what her reward would be, but the possibilities sent a gush of hot liquid to her center and she could feel it, slick between her thighs.
The next three blows came back to back, without a second in between, and when he stopped, they were both breathing hard. Her backside was achy and hot but she’d never been so turned on.
He paused, silent for a long moment before he laid his mouth on her ass in the spot that stung the most.
She gasped and arched her back.
Only five more to go and she didn’t know if that was a relief or a disappointment.
She shivered at the thought, and then winced as his teeth nipped her ass cheek sharply.
Her heart thrummed as she waited, breath bated, for what would come next. Would he tell her when, or—
She yelped as the next blow fell. The sensation was like a web of fire ants along her bottom and she squirmed to get away from it.
“Stay still, love,” he murmured, his tone gentle now. “Almost done. It will hurt less if you relax.”
She pursed her lips and tried to let the tension flow from her body.
Four more.
The next was a doozy and she wondered if she could take any more as her throat began to ache with unshed tears. She waited, anticipating the next, when warm hands cupped her ass and massaged her. It hurt, but she stayed perfectly still, realizing that with every motion, his thumbs were moving closer and closer to that infernal ache between her thighs.
“I know it hurts, love. But I wish you could see what I’m seeing. How beautiful it is. Your pussy, soaking wet, your ass wearing my mark.” Her ground the heel of his palm to her clit and she swallowed a scream as wave after wave of ecstasy rolled over her.
“Ah, god,” she ground out, hips fluttering as the need to come came barreling down on her like tsunami. “Please, Gabriel, please don’t stop.”
With the absence of sight, everything else was so much keener. The scent of his cologne mixed with the leather of the bench. The sound of his broken breaths that let her know he was as moved as she was by what was happening between them.
Time seemed to stand still as his hand came whooshing through the air again, and right as he struck, something slid deep inside her. She let out a wail as curled two fingers inward to ride against her g-spot in a soul-shattering caress.
“Two more,” he muttered, his voice all grit now as he fucked her with his hand. Faster. Harder. Deeper.
Crack.
Crack.
The searing pain on her ass barely registered as he laid his mouth on her cheek again, this time, gently exploring the burning welts there with the tip of his tongue.
Any attempt to stay quiet and wait patiently until he gave her the go ahead blew away like dust in the wind as she ground backward against him, driving his fingers deeper, relishing the pleasure pain of it all.
“I’m—I’m going to come. Please—“
“Not yet, love. Listen to me,” he murmured, his lips blowing warm puffs of air on her sore bottom as she tried to focus. “Breathe deeply through your nose and out through your mouth.”
She did as he told her, but he didn’t slow his movements. Those clever hands continued their torture and she began to sob softly as she tried desperately to fight the urge to climax.
“Listen to my voice, love. You’ve been such a good girl. You want to please me, don’t you?”
She nodded as his thumb snaked forward and swirled over her swollen clit.
God, she wanted so badly to make him happy. To show him she could do this. She bit down on her lip, the maneuver buying her a few more seconds of sanity.
“Good, that’s so good, love. Do you feel it? It
’s right there. So close, can almost taste it.” He tapped her g-spot again as his slick thumb rotated in a circle that made her dizzy, and she bit down harder.
“But I’m a selfish man, love. I want to feel that on my cock. Your tight pussy clamping down when you come, squeezing and dragging me down with you.”
She wanted that too. So badly. She opened her mouth to tell him. To beg and plead and cry if she had to, but she needn’t have bothered. She heard the tear of foil, and then he closed his damp fingers over her hips.
When the swollen, thick head of his cock probed her entrance, she let out a hiss. So good. Just a little deeper…
“You’re mine, Zara,” he growled, plunging deep, feeding her every inch of his distended member all at once.
The sensation stole her breath and scrambled her thoughts as she stretched to accommodate him. He was massive, but she was so primed, so ready, that it was only a moment before she was pulsing back against him, desperate to feel the drag of his flesh against hers.
“This? Is this what you want?” he demanded, rearing back and plunging forward, impaling her on his stiff rod, his hips grinding against her stinging bottom.
Lights exploded behind her eyelids as the climax hit her like a locomotive. Dimly, she was aware of her own screams as he thrust into her again and again, riding the wave of her as her body jerked and trembled.
It felt like it went on forever, the pleasure/pain.
She was still gasping for air and twitching when he stiffened behind her and bellowed her name. Not wanting it to end, wanting to milk it for everything it was worth, she reached behind her and yanked him as close as she could. Her exploded, his cock bucking against her g-spot hard, and she went hurtling toward a second orgasm. He must’ve sensed it and palmed both of her still-aching ass cheeks in his hand as he rammed her back against him.
The pain was razor sharp, but to her stunned surprise, it was what sent her flying over the cliff again as she cried out his name.
She didn’t know how long they stayed there like that, locked together. It felt like a moment and forever all at the same time. But when she felt him shift behind her and pulled away, she whimpered at the loss.
“Shh, it’s all right love. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her body felt so languid, so satisfied and loose that she could only manage a nod as gentle hands tugged the blindfold off and laid her onto the bed.
“How do you feel?”
“Never better,” she answered honestly, when she could work up the energy to speak. Maybe it was too much too soon, but she couldn’t work up the energy to be embarrassed. It was the honest truth and she refused to be ashamed.
He settled heavily onto the mattress next to her. Then, he pulled back to stare down into her eyes. What she saw reflected back at her made her heart skip a beat.
“I am yours and you are mine, Zara,” he murmured, tracing the bow of her lip with his thumb.
The words should’ve terrified her. They’d met only days before, and yet, she’d never felt so cherished.
So tonight, instead of clinging to old fears, she would choose this. Gabriel. It was a risk. Who knew what the future held? But it was a risk worth taking.
She leaned up to kiss him and then burrowed against his shoulder. She didn’t know where he grew up, or his favorite kind of ice cream, but she knew it felt right. And that was enough for now.
She had a long way to go toward healing from her father’s tragic death and the emotional struggles he’d endured in life, but at least now, she didn’t have to face tomorrow alone.
She nestled closer to Gabriel and let her eyes drift shut, at peace for the first time in forever. And she slept.
* * *
Gabriel remained awake late into the night, thoughts churning so violently, it was a wonder Zara couldn’t hear them.
Because he had heard hers.
Now that they were lovers, it was inevitable unless he tuned them out. And he would, from this moment on.
But intended or not, tonight had been one of revelations. Not only had his path become clear, but so had Zara’s journey.
It explained the urn that sat on her mantle and her vial of holy water.
He tamped back the rush of guilt at his deception. He had to push that aside. Because things were about to get hard, and this was bigger than the both of them. From the second he’d seen her face, he’d known it somewhere deep down. That they were destined from the start, for better or worse. And no matter how hard he fought, nothing would’ve kept them from winding up here.
In this place at this moment. The crossroads where he would have to choose between his people or his woman.
That choice was no choice at all. She was the light in a sea of darkness. The good in the midst of so much bad. The piece of the puzzle that had been missing in his life. And while she didn’t know how to process it all so quickly, and couldn’t explain it, he knew she felt the same.
Which was why, when the time came to tell all, he hoped she would forgive him his deceit. Especially once he had officially renounced his former life. His position within The Protectorate. His job at the club. The use of magic altogether.
Soon, he would cease to be the same type of monster that had taken Zara’s father from her.
In all ways but one.
Because even now, the urge to feed from her pulled at him, so strong, he quaked with it. For the moment, he could resist. Eventually though, he would have no choice. She would need him to feed to give her longevity, and he would need every ounce of strength he could muster to fight off his nightwalker brethren.
Because if he had figured out that Zara was the daughter of the man who had murdered Mellisande, it was only a matter of time before the others did.
And when they did? There would be hell to pay.
He squeezed her lush, soft form closer, letting the scent of cherry blossoms wash over him.
Let them come.
Because Zara Matheson was his, now and evermore and he would end anyone who tried to take her from him.
The End
About Chloe Cole
Chloe Cole is a New York Times Bestselling Author of steamy paranormal romance, and the undisputed champion of Gin Rummy (at her house, at least). She spends her free time crying when the New York Giants lose, and finding creative new ways to incorporate chocolate into her diet. www.chloe-cole.com
Heated Holiday by Mandy M. Roth
Bureau of Paranormal Investigation Series World
She's fire. He’s fangs.
It's a match made in…Ohio?
1
Blood and a blonde
Cambridge Sutton pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to rub out the holiday music-induced headache he’d had for the greater part of an hour. That was how long the same song about rocking around a Christmas tree had been playing on loop from the kitchen area. He was immortal, but he was fairly sure the song would be the death of him.
His team was already late for the meetings they’d arranged with the human and paranormal heads of the city. As one of the heads of the BPI—the Bureau of Paranormal Investigation—and something of a pillar in the paranormal community, Cambridge was selected to attend and oversee the peace negotiations between the supernaturals and the humans in Ohio. The talks were taking longer than expected and going into their second month. Neither side wanted to give on what both sets felt were already limited guidelines.
Apparently, don’t-kill-a-supernatural was as hard for humans to follow as the don’t-kill-humans rule his kind was expected to adhere to. People, regardless of their species, were idiots.
With tensions on the rise and the peace talks going south, they did not have time for Mimi’s antics. Her continuous need to spread holiday cheer was wearing on everyone’s nerves. So much so that the Chicago office had pretty much shoved her out the door with the team when word came that they’d be heading to Columbus to help try to find a peaceful solution to the unrest there.
Mimi seemed to match the de
partment stores with her holiday cheer. It had been October when they’d first decided they’d relocate to Columbus from Chicago temporarily, and she’d already started pulling out Christmas decorations. She’d had truckloads of them brought in from her home in Chicago. The woman must have used an entire wing of her parents’ mansion to store them—they seemed to be limitless. Halloween hadn’t even arrived yet then. Now that Thanksgiving had just occurred, she was in rare form. Cambridge was almost happy that he rarely ventured off with the teams. He wasn’t sure he could handle Mimi all the time. He half-expected her to begin decorating for Valentine’s Day any minute now.
The team she’d been a part of as their Preternatural Magik, or PM as most shortened the position to, had disbanded several months back, each member being assigned to a new team. Mimi was a floater now—a magik without a fixed team, used where she was needed. Cornell, Cambridge’s brother, had found it funny to insist she was needed on this trip.
Cambridge would have argued the matter, but he knew his brother and his brother’s mate needed time together, without Mimi underfoot. She officially lived in her parents’ large estate back home, but she might as well have resided with Cornell and Dani with as much time as she spent at their home. They were still in their first year of being a mated couple and often, three was a crowd. Now Cambridge regretted caving so easily.
He glanced in the direction of one of the Chicago BPI agents who had accompanied them. Baldwin Osman was kicked back in an oversized chair, his booted feet propped on an end table. He yawned and then growled, the shifter side of him showing through. He was irritable when he didn’t get enough sleep. Cambridge figured it had something to do with his shifted form being a bear and the whole hibernation bit. The guy earned great money, as did all who worked for BPI, but he didn’t spend it. And Cambridge knew he came from money, but Baldwin lived a relatively simple life.
He had one of those retro looking silver pull trailers set up on a piece of property just outside of Chicago and then in the winter months he took out to Alaska and lived in a small log cabin he’d built himself, working for the BPI branch there on loan. Baldwin took a lot of shit for his choice in homes, but he didn’t let it get to him. He enjoyed nature and Cambridge got the feeling that being in the city for long intervals made his inner beast restless.