LostwithLeo

by Shelley Munro

  Yes, the man was handsome, and because of his stunning good looks, she’d approached him with an offer he couldn’t refuse. Once he knew the bargain came with strings it had been too late since Iseult’s web had him trapped.

  “You’re not the same species as her or her guards. Why do you work for her?”

  Because she had no choice.

  Betrys ignored him and led the way into the mansion via the servant’s entry. It was quicker and would get Leo to the central web before Iseult arrived. She liked to make an entrance, dressed to impress, and if she wasn’t admired in the correct manner, life became difficult for them all.

  Hard fingers curled around her upper arm and hauled her to a halt. He spun her around to face him and repeated his question. “Why do you work for her?”

  None of the sexy and demanding dream lover showed in his face, but her grandmother had told her the male often fought destiny and pretended their dreams didn’t exist and therefore couldn’t be real.

  “She pays well.” A lie, but the faint curl of those perfect lips told her he’d believed she’d signed him up for money. “Hurry. We need to prepare you before Iseult arrives.”

  “And everything Iseult wants Iseult gets.”

  “Yes,” Betrys said in a thick voice, and she couldn’t meet his gaze.

  Betrys hurried along the servants’ passage and turned into Iseult’s private quarters. In the sanitizer room, she turned to Leo and started to unbutton his shirt.

  He slapped her busy hands away. “I’ve been dressing and undressing myself since I was five years old.”

  Betrys let her hands drop away. Her son preferred to dress himself too.

  In the distance, a timepiece chimed midday.

  “Please hurry or Iseult will punish all of us.” Goddess, she couldn’t keep doing this, couldn’t keep luring men to their deaths. It was killing her inside, and with Leo, the situation magnified. Her desire for him dueled with her love for her son. Today they would all lose. Battling tears and despair, she swallowed hard. “Please, Leo.”

  His face didn’t soften at her plea, but he did start removing his clothes. He disrobed without a fuss, which she appreciated. He’d lost weight, something she hadn’t noticed during her visit on the dreamscape. The suction marks Iseult inflicted on her lovers had healed and almost disappeared. Unusual. The oddity would intrigue Iseult.

  Without being prompted, he walked into the sanitizer and started to cleanse in preparation for his meeting with Iseult.

  Goddess Juna. He was going to die today. Guilt and despondency soaked her pores, filled her thoughts, weighed her down. He had people who loved him, and they’d never learn of his fate.

  “Are your family on Tiraq?” she blurted, even though she knew the basic details.

  He glowered through spiky dark lashes. “Why do you want to know?”

  Betrys gulped. Telling him she wanted the information in order to inform his loved ones of his demise didn’t seem tactful or wise. “Just passing conversation.”

  His contemptuous snort echoed and brought the heat of distress to her face. She averted her gaze while he completed the cleansing and drying process and picked up the silky white robe Iseult insisted her lovers wear.

  “I have four brothers and one sister,” Leo said. “Is that for me?”

  “Yes.” She opened it for him to slide his arms into the sleeves, but he snatched it from her and donned the garment by himself.

  Betrys gasped, yet couldn’t fault him. If she wore his shoes, she’d feel the same distrust, the same contempt and hatred. Understandable.

  Their dreamscape ties counted for nothing. They couldn’t. She needed to protect her son. Iseult would order her men to kill Ricci if Betrys refused to carry out her orders. In her own way, she was trapped like Leo, except hers was a living hell. At least Leo would have the peace and tranquility of death.

  * * * * *

  Iseult Orna bubbled with anticipation. This latest food offering purchased by her maidservant tasted exquisite. His essence still fizzed through her system, which was unusual in itself.

  She stalked a circuit of her private rooms in an effort to burn off her excess energy. It was a pity the last feeding always killed them because this one—this one was something special.

  Too bad. She’d savor this session, extract every bit of his essence and enjoy the high that came with the fucking. Such a beautiful creature. Perfect of face and form.

  Faint vibrations thrummed beneath her feet and danced in the air, alerting her to the fact Betrys was delivering the man to the main web. Excitement pulsed in rhythm with her rapid central valve, and fangs sprang to prominence in her mouth.

  She hadn’t looked forward to a feeding so much for eons.

  Her in-home com buzzed.

  “Yes?” Iseult barked.

  “The man is ready for you,” her maidservant said.

  “Perfect. I am very pleased with your latest procurement. You may take tomorrow off and visit with your son.”

  A faint gasp rippled from the com, and Iseult’s lips curled into a benevolent smile. She was a reasonable being after all.

  “Thank you, mistress.”

  “Make sure you are back by fall of dark to carry out your duties.”

  “Yes, mistress.”

  Her maidservant’s smooth voice never faltered or changed in register, but if Iseult troubled herself to pull up the screen for her private cameras, she was certain she’d spot the woman’s distaste. A melodic laugh spilled free from Iseult. Her maidservant disliked many of her duties, but she performed them anyway because Iseult had custody of the woman’s young son.

  A cute wee thing, and much prettier than his mother.

  Iseult had told Betrys she would release her son, and they could be together again. Her maidservant believed her words when her intentions were quite different. The child would make a tasty snack with more years of seasoning. Oh yes. While it was true the Spiderus race could not lie and always spoke the truth, they were canny enough to leave out pertinent facts. Those not of the Spiderus race did not comprehend the subtleties of the game.

  Iseult let out another delighted chuckle and sauntered to the looking glass to check her appearance. She picked up a jeweled comb to place in her dark locks before replacing it on her dresser. No, the decorative comb would be too much and would clash with the colors of a well-fed Spiderus pulsing across her torso. An unusual occurrence but very exciting since it meant she was capable of breeding.

  “Despite what my clan thinks,” she murmured. “A child.”

  Smiling with satisfaction, she pursed her lips and blew a kiss at her reflection. She plucked her favorite flogger off the corner of her sleep-bed and strolled from the room.

  Time for dinner.

  Chapter Three

  Leo stood in the center of the round room, in the exact position Betrys had instructed him to wait, and every muscle in his body urged him to flee. Thing was he suspected his legs would fail to hold him upright long enough for an escape. Apart from last night, when he’d dreamed of fucking the mousy Betrys, the white-covered walls, the floors of this room, they featured in his nightmares—colorless except for his vivid red blood.

  “Why hello, pretty,” a sultry voice said from the doorway.

  Leo sucked in a harsh breath.

  Too late. Too late. Too late to run now.

  Footsteps—small, sharp clicks against the tiled floor—stiffened his spine. Then came the slap of a flogger against the flesh of her hand—her warm-up tool. Leo swallowed, the sound audible, and her seductive chuckle confirmed she’d heard, noted his fear and felt pleasure in his distress.

  The flogger sounded again. Slap. Slap. Slap, against her palm.

  Then silence fell, apart from the click of her heels as she circled him, her gaze a slow slide of friction across every inch of his skin. To his horror and disgust, his cock started filling.

  “You have healed well,” she crooned. “Much better than the others.”

  S
till, Leo kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see the beautiful face, the one that covered the depraved woman beneath the slick surface.

  The flogger whistled through the air, the slap, slap, slap against her palm harder now, as if in displeasure. Leo was certain he knew what had disturbed the woman. His bald head.

  Too late, bitch.

  Leo gathered a bundle of memories in his mind—good recollections, the very best. Him shifting for the first time. Playing with his brothers in the town of Middlemarch on Earth. Making love to his girlfriend. Cathy had died during the initial virus outbreak. He ditched that part from his memory capsule and tossed in every other happy occasion he could recall, every recollection of days and nights when he’d experienced happiness.

  “Why did you cut your hair?” she asked.

  “It-it was in the way.” Fuck, she’d reduced him to stutters.

  “I liked it.”

  She’d enjoyed yanking on the long strands and using them as a bridle, but he never uttered the thought aloud. Less was more with this evil bitch.

  “Tell me the truth,” she demanded.

  “It was h-heavy and hot.”

  “Hmm, I sense truth in your words. Though not stupid, I. You wanted to annoy Iseult. Truth?”

  “Truth,” Leo spat.

  Before he could open his eyes and follow up with a glare, the flogger swished again and struck his arse. Pain sparked along his nerve endings, sucked the ire out of him, and left him quivering. Defeated.

  “Pity,” she cooed, but it was in a dispassionate voice. “But it will matter little in the end. I will still have my way with you.”

  The flogger whistled in a series of quick blows. Each rained on a different part of his backside. Each throbbed and pushed pained groans up his throat. Each lash arced like electricity to his cock, to his balls, and filled him with shame.

  Difficult to understand how he hated the woman, yet her actions had his body behaving like a begging dog.

  “Open your eyes. I want to see your pain, feed from your fear.”

  Leo forced open his eyelids, met her avid gaze. Up close, her eyes were a weird blue and he saw himself reflected, counting six likenesses. She could see behind her, but her distance vision was poor. Not that the knowledge helped him to escape her clutches.

  “Good.” Her breath was hot against his neck as she leaned forward.

  Leo tensed, knowing what was coming next, but he wasn’t quick enough. Her fangs sank into the base of his neck and sucked on his flesh. He shuddered, fighting the euphoric sensations propelled into him from her bite.

  A moan whispered from his lips, and he relaxed against her curvy form, letting her take as much of his lifeblood as she deemed necessary. She wouldn’t kill him this way, at least he didn’t think so. No, she enjoyed toying with her prey.

  Teasing and taunting until he screamed.

  And he would scream.

  He wouldn’t be able to help himself.

  Her smile was gloating and bloody when she lifted her head. Her gaze had darkened from deep blue to black, a sign of her growing arousal. She stepped back and he staggered. Blood trickled from the bite at the side of his throat. It ran over his collarbone, down his pectoral muscle and dripped to the floor. Brilliant crimson against the white tiles.

  “Stand in position,” she barked.

  Leo attempted to straighten. His knees gave before he caught his weight and spread his legs to hip-width as per her order. Slowly, he lifted his arms. His muscles trembled with the effort, and he wondered how long he’d last. Didn’t matter. She flayed his skin with her flogger, taking bites from any spot that attracted her attention. He sucked in a slow breath. That bloody straw again. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to force enough oxygen into his lungs.

  She circled him, those bloody heels of hers tap-tapping on the tiles. He heard that sound in his nightmares, woke screaming because he thought she was in his bedroom.

  The tap-tapping ceased.

  Slap. Slap. Slap.

  He winced at each sharp blow of the flogger against her palm. Soon he’d feel that bite against his skin again and the deceptive power of it. If not for his feline genes, he wouldn’t heal.

  “Eyes open.”

  He nodded.

  “Answer me.” The flogger struck his right shoulder, leaving a fiery path of pain in its wake.

  “Yes, Iseult.” Her name left a dirty taste in his mouth.

  “Better.”

  She walked into his field of vision, her gaze avid and disturbing. Fuck, she made him feel unclean, both inside and out. He couldn’t wait to crawl into a sanitizer unit.

  “Does your cock feel tight?”

  “Yes, Iseult.”

  She kneeled at his feet and ran a fingertip along his shaft. His body jerked, both with fear and desire. Her pointed black tongue traced her bottom lip then she tipped back her head to smile at him. “I think we’ll do something different today.”

  Fear slithered through Leo like a stealthy serpent. Sweat beaded on his forehead, collected in his armpits. He stared at her but panic colored his vision. Different was not good in conjunction with this woman. His breaths rasped in and out and a silent scream broke out inside his head, deafening him. The urge to close his eyes was almost too much for his restraint.

  She rose and surveyed his tense muscles, his rigid posture. Her cheerful smile widened, and she let out a sharp, high-pitched cry.

  Her Spiderus minions scampered into the circular room on all fours, their small, round heads alert yet submissive. Hell. He couldn’t look at them, wouldn’t look at the spider version of them without a shudder. He was beginning to understand his sister’s dislike of the hairy insects. If he could ever talk to her about this experience he’d tell her the larger version was even more hideous.

  “Prepare the mating bed,” she ordered.

  The minions hesitated. Maybe in confusion because she wasn’t following the usual path of torture and sex. The skin on his backside was hot and tight, but it wasn’t bloody yet. She hadn’t struck his cock with her flogger as she had during the previous sessions.

  “Now,” Iseult snapped in a hard voice. “Make haste, and I’ll allow you each one taste of his blood.” Her black tongue slid over her pink lips and she made a smacking sound. “It’s delicious.”

  The minions scattered like flies disturbed on a carcass. Leo’s biceps trembled from holding his arms in the air.

  “You can put your limbs down, pretty Leo.”

  Hearing her say his name was another shock. She’d never, ever used it before, had always objectified him. Fuck, did this mean he’d pleased her?

  A whimper sounded in his mind, and she issued a delighted chuckle, making him realize the cry had been real. His knees trembled and gave way without warning. He crumpled and dropped to the ground.

  Iseult laughed again, a shudder of what looked like ecstasy shaking her frame. She stalked away, leaving him curled up on the cool tiles.

  Click. Click. Click, went her heels. Leo moaned. Even though he couldn’t see, every scuttle, every tap, every slap amplified, echoed through his head and screamed of danger.

  “Perfect,” Iseult said. “Escort Leo to the mating bed.”

  Leo tensed at the increased scuttling, jolted at a sudden high-pitched shriek.

  “One taste. No more,” Iseult warned. “Any warrior who dares to take more will suffer instant death. Put him on the mating bed first.”

  A hairy black hand grasped his forearm, jerked him off the floor. Leo tried to retreat, but a second minion grabbed his other arm and propelled him toward a round white bed. Their rancid scent, lightened with a touch of a green herb, made his stomach swirl. Nausea ripped up his throat and exploded from his mouth. Once he started throwing up, he couldn’t stop. The sounds, the scents crowded in on him. His heart beat so fast he thought the organ might pound right out of his chest. The minions holding him released him and he fell onto the firm bed.

  A series of shrieks filled the air,
fast and choppy and indecipherable. Furious.

  A hairy arm grasped him again, dumped him on the floor. His head struck the tiles and everything went black.

  “That is disgusting,” Iseult said. “Primitive creature.”

  Her head of security grunted. “What to do?”

  “Clean up the mating bed. Clean him up and get him in position. No instance of wastage once he gains his senses.”

  “We can still taste him?”

  “Same terms. One taste each.”

  Her security man gave a curt nod. “I understand. One taste.”

  “Call me once he’s ready. I will be in the tranquil web.”

  “Yes, mistress.” The security man nodded. “It will be done.”

  Iseult sauntered away. At the doorway, she snapped her fingers. “With me.”

  Betrys came to attention and Iseult saw her fall into step behind, the perfect slave as usual. Her mind slid to the male. Such an exquisite taste to his life force. His semen too, although she’d yet to taste that today.

  A frail creature.

  A pity this final meeting would kill him.

  Leo came awake with a hard jolt, his panicked cry echoing in the creepy white room. He tried to shift his arms, failed. God, the crazy bitch had paralyzed him.

  A piercing squeak close to his ear had him starting. He turned his head to come face-to-face with one of the minions. Its hairy hand crawled across his chest in a loverlike caress.

  Leo yelled, tried to squirm away, but his arms and legs were bound. The black hand moved to the spot where Iseult had bitten him. The hairy fingers prodded gently, and Leo relaxed a fraction. Then the creature lowered its head and lapped its black tongue over the wound.

  He let out a panicked croak, tried to jerk away, but the minion had him in a tight embrace. The mouth suckled once, just once, before the Spiderus male lifted his head. He shifted aside and Leo relaxed, until another moved into position beside the bed. Fuck, they were each taking one sip of his blood.