“It’s not fair to you two. He’s giving up live donors,” I offered, wanting Dan to know how serious Tristan was about me.
“That’s big. Huge difference between bottled and the warm stuff.”
“Yeah.”
Those big, muscular arms wrapped tight around me. His lips touched my forehead. “I want you to be happy, baby girl. I’m not going to lie; I hope that means you choose me. But if you’re happy, I’ll deal with it.”
My strong, steady Marlboro Man. What wasn’t there to love about him?
Chapter 16
Tristan lay on his former employer’s bed in Sanderson Cottage, laughing fit to split his guts and tears pouring down his face. I’d never seen him hysterical, but by God, he was right now. You’ve never seen a man laugh so hard.
I was showing him the strip routine I’d attempted when stuck in Fizz’s body. At least he didn’t boo or throw things at me. Instead, he nearly fell off the bed, so mirthful was he at my embarrassing failure.
I got the last of my clothes off and tottered on ridiculously high heels. I grabbed the nearby nightstand to catch my balance. “I know! Now imagine that in front of completely unsympathetic and hostile strangers. It was totally humiliating, even in someone else’s body.”
Tristan wiped his streaming eyes. “Two left feet, most definitely. I’m amazed, considering all the wonderful things you’ve done in that body with me.”
“Well, it wasn’t my body first of all. And these heels!”
“I love you in those heels.” His eyes turned almost vampire dark. “In fact, I want to see those stilettos up in the air.”
“You say the sweetest things.” I turned my back to him and bent over, pretending the strap affixing one of those terrible shoes to my ankle needed adjusting. I heard something like a growl come from his throat as he took in the view.
The sound of footsteps on the creaking stairs outside the bedroom door was barely acknowledged. The living could come and go as they pleased for all of our concerns.
Tristan said, “Get over here, beautiful woman.”
I straightened and cast my gaze over my shoulder at him. Now he was just as naked as me … more so since he wasn’t wearing high heels, ha ha. And boy, he wanted me to join him in the worst way. That was obvious.
Hearing that pair of footsteps coming down the hall, the first of many I was sure that would grace the haunted Sanderson Cottage on this eve of All Hallows, I concentrated hard to walk gracefully the two steps that separated me from the bed. I made it without stumbling once. I slid next to Tristan, and his body covered mine, his mouth descending to give me one of those toe-curling kisses he did so well.
The footsteps stopped outside the door as Tristan’s tongue flicked my parted lips. We both froze when a deep voice called, “Brandilynn? Are you here?”
Tristan rolled off me, and we stared at Bane as he peered into the room. The werewolf, looking almost respectable in a white polo shirt and khakis, peered around the room uncertainly. Looked yummy, in fact. Would look even better naked on this bed with me and Tristan.
Okay, cancel the lusty thoughts already. I so was not going there, especially with Tristan glaring at the agent.
Of course Bane was completely unaware of how incredibly furious Tristan looked. “I’ve been searching around for you. I ran into Patricia Keith last night, and she said you might be here.”
Tristan gritted his teeth. “Remind me to disown my sister. She knew you and I had a date.”
I could only chuckle. “You don’t mean it. You love her.”
He crooked an indulgent smile. “She always was more into tricks than treats. Bane interrupting us would be her idea of a Halloween prank.”
Bane was held back from coming into the room by the velvet rope just inside the door. “Is there any way you can let me know if you’re here? Brandilynn?”
I sighed and concentrated on the earth’s magnetic pulse. Pulling just enough into myself, I concentrated the power into one hand and knocked twice on the ornately carved headboard of the bed.
Bane smiled, his golden eyes lighting up. “Hey, girl. Just to be sure that’s you, can you do it again?”
“Hurry up and get him out of here,” Tristan grumbled.
I stuck my tongue out at my boyfriend and rapped my knuckles on the headboard once more.
Bane seemed really happy to get a response. “Great. Um, I’m out of here. Going back to my home office in Louisville, Kentucky. I just wanted to say goodbye.”
Tristan gave him an enthusiastic wave. “Goodbye.”
I nudged him. “Behave.”
Innocent of Tristan’s antics, Bane kept talking. “Fizz is recovering, though she’s too scarred to go back to stripping. Poor girl, Hazel really did some damage that can’t be fixed. She’ll be going into the Witness Protection Program, so I guess they’ll find something for her to do after the heat dies down a little. Both her and I have contracts on our heads, placed by the Beasts. On a national level, since Fulton Falls’ chapter has completely disbanded.”
“Yikes.” Bane wouldn’t be safe anywhere now. Scary stuff.
“I don’t know if you heard, but Hazel was conjuring large amounts of blood from small samples from the baby dragon. Some kind of quadrupling spell I understand, except it did a lot more than quadruple the quantity. Then he had another spell, a transference spell I think they called it, that would get it into the bottles and pouches that came through their distribution company, the one under Bottle’s name. After their initial success with the experimentally contaminated pouches that were popping up all over the Southeast, they decided it was time to go for it. They tainted a huge number of lots, including the ones we saw being put on the ship to England. We managed to find all of it before they got on the market. It would have been wholesale genocide on the vampires worldwide if we hadn’t caught them when we did.”
Sounding bored, Tristan said, “I have stock in the company that makes Blood Potion Number Nine. It plunged into the toilet on the news.”
Trust a vampire to be interested in his bottom line. Nevermind how many would have gone to their final deaths if the dragon’s blood had hit the market. “Gee, I guess you’ll have to buy your next suit off the rack,” I said unsympathetically.
“Fortunately, my assets are diversified enough to cover my butt. Figuratively and literally.”
I had to laugh at that.
Bane went on. “I wanted to say thanks for all your help. If it wasn’t for you … well, things would have turned out a lot different, maybe. I’m just sorry Tristan Keith gets all the credit for your work.”
“He’ll make it up to me,” I said, ogling Tristan’s undiminished erection. I wasn’t put out that he was the big hero of the whole tainted blood takedown, having sent in his shifter staff to ‘discover’ the baby dragon. A lot of politicos are declaring him a shoe-in for that vacant seat in the state legislature now.
I don’t mind the lack of kudos. As a ghost, I can’t testify in court anyway, so we’re all keeping my involvement quiet while the rest of the Beasts are up on charges. The important thing is vampires aren’t going to be destroyed, and Bane and Fizz are still alive. I can deal with being invisible when all things are considered.
Bane was starting to squirm uncomfortably. Uh oh. I thought the big, bad wolf might be about to voice his feelings. I can smell awkward sentimentality a mile away.
He proved me out. “I wish … aw hell. I mean heck. I don’t do this sappy crap well. You’re an awesome lady, Brandilynn. Maybe when my time’s up on this earth, you’ll have dumped the boyfriend and I can look you up. Anyway, until then … take care of yourself, girl. I appreciate everything you did to help me out.”
With that, he lumbered off. I’ll be honest. I hated to see him go. We listened to his heavy tread move down the hall and then the stairs.
“Another poor man succumbs to the charms of Brandilynn Payson,” Tristan said, shaking his head a little. “At this rate, you’ll have a harem.”
&nb
sp; “No I won’t.” Lusty thoughts or not, dealing with the needs of two men was stretching my resources enough, thank you very much. When I’m not thinking with my libido, adding Bane to the mix doesn’t seem like a good idea at all.
Tristan regarded me seriously. “Once the bottling and distribution plants have been cleared and re-warded and certified safe, I’ll switch from live donors.”
I nodded. The big sacrifice. He was really going to do it for me. That totally got my thoughts off Bane.
“Meanwhile, your admirer is gone and I want to get back to our afternoon delight.”
“With pleasure.”
A tie appeared around Tristan’s neck. He unknotted it and used it to bind one of my wrists to the bedpost. Like some crazy magic act, he did the tie bit three more times until I was splayed out on the bed, wrists and ankles bound helplessly for his pleasure. Poor, poor, lucky me.
“All mine,” he sighed with great contentment. His hands swept over my body, simultaneously caressing and claiming. The possessive gesture had my body clamoring to be taken in an instant.
He started with my breasts, concentrating all his attention on the left one. Kneading it gently, testing its soft suppleness, he brought my senses alight with just that touch. I looked at the intensity in his eyes, the heat from them seeming to creep through my body. I’d love for someone to explain to me how a man could do that just with his gaze.
Tristan rubbed his palm over my nipple, making it pebble in delight. As it grew hard, he took it between finger and thumb, rubbing it tenderly at first. Then he pinched harder, sending a little dart of pain through me. My pussy seeped honey at the show of power, and a tiny whimper escaped my lips. One corner of his mouth quirked upwards at the sound. He loved being in control. I loved him being in control.
He bent to capture the mound in his mouth. He sucked me in deep, his teeth closing over my flesh. I began to pant as they pressed harder and harder, building to an ache. Slowly Tristan pulled his head back, dragging those teeth over my skin as he went, leaving pink trails over the ivory expanse. He ended by tugging hard on my nipple, and I squirmed with the intense sensation.
Giving that aching breast a smart slap, he went to work on the other. Fingers, mouth, tongue, and teeth reddened the flesh, making me moan in mingled pain and arousal. I was helpless against him, unable to do anything but succumb to his mastery over me. I loved every second of it.
He was testing me, seeing if I would submit to even his darkest leanings. We both knew I could use my safeword or even transport elsewhere at any moment. But my thoughts were centered on utter surrender, on pleasing him by yielding all control. I was his sub, his woman, his slave for this tryst. It drove me wild to pretend he owned me, that I had no say in the matter. My mouth, my pussy, my anus, my whole body belonged to him, and I could refuse him nothing.
Tristan spanked my breasts hard with stinging, open palms. I cried out with every meaty clap of his hands against my vulnerable skin and twisted in my bonds.
“Stay still for the discipline,” he ordered. “You may not move.”
So I was forced to endure the punishment, dealt not for any transgression but because it pleased him. And I wasn’t allowed to squirm.
There comes a point in sensual pain when it ceases to hurt. The intensity remains, but it transmutes into something else. There was profound sensation, and tears flowed like rivers from my eyes, but the heat and the throbbing became all encompassing, taking me away from the torment. It wasn’t just my sexual parts that roiled and bubbled with bliss now, it was my whole body. It centered where those wonderful, powerful hands took me to task, the thudding contact reverberating throughout me. My cries were no longer pained. The sounds I made voiced pure sensual delight.
Finally satisfied with my compliance, Tristan’s attention went lower. My pussy flexed hard and slow in response to his evaluating stare.
“So wet,” he growled. “You’re having quite the pain slut turn today, my girl.”
He was so hard his cock was curved tight to his belly. My acquiescence to his superiority was driving Tristan crazy and enhanced my desire to submit even more. I lay open and vulnerable, knowing what he would do before he did it. Reminding myself to lay still and accept his wishes.
He spanked my defenseless pussy, turning the already burning flesh even hotter. The sharp contact with my clit drove spikes of ecstasy through me, every strike driving me towards orgasm. I bit the insides of my lips together, fighting to hold out, fresh warm tears renewing the streams from my eyes. I was desperate to come, but I wouldn’t without my master’s permission. And I wouldn’t ask for it though my body begged for release under that heavy hand’s prompting. It was entirely up to him whether I would be allowed orgasm. If he withheld it, then I had no choice but concede to his decision. It wasn’t my body to assert my will. It was his. All his.
He changed tactics, pushing me ever harder in an effort to make me disobey. I was quaking all over with the effort of staying still, staying silent, and not coming. Tristan tormented me with the cage of my own flesh, licking an aching nipple, plunging two or three fingers into my cleft, now pulling free and shoving one wet digit into my rear passage as he sucked hard on my clit. Then spanking my breasts and pussy some more. Stopping to let his tongue slip slowly and sensuously through the swollen folds.
He was all over me, now rough, now gentle, now cruel, now sweet. Everything he did to me drove me harder against the wall of need, determined to break me and make me climax despite my will to serve him. I was in a state of pure, rapturous anguish. Heaven and hell combined, and I was lost in blissful misery.
At last it was Tristan who conceded the battle. “All right, my love,” he gasped, laying his body on mine. His cock, so hot that I thought it might leave a seared mark on my flesh, homed in on my trembling, desperate orifice. As Tristan’s mouth closed over my lips, his rigid length slipped inside, slowly spearing me.
The tension in Tristan’s body told me he was as overwrought as I was, but he refused to rush our merging. He pressed a bare inch into me, and then paused, as if to torment me with longing. And it was torture when I wanted all of him sheathed deep, deep within me. It was then that I almost lost control, almost demanded him to pound his flesh into mine. But I hung on, even when he slid only another inch in and paused.
In contrast to the almost timid way his cock crept into my pussy, his tongue raided my mouth with ardent abandon. It rampaged and ravished, tasting every nook and cranny, his mouth sucking my tongue in to feel the hardness of his teeth, the smooth silk of his palate, the velvet of its twin. If a mouth can make desperate love to another mouth, that’s what Tristan Keith’s did to mine.
And still his cock moved in ever so slowly. I felt hugely swollen inside, as if to make up for the lack of man that should be there. My sheath flexed, trying to draw him in deeper. My sex was a riot of need and want and desperation, and still he gave himself in minute doses.
I sobbed into his mouth, growing more desperate by the second. He ended the devouring kiss and looked down at me, his gaze eager and cruel.
“You may beg me now,” he said.
Strangled words poured from my throat in supplication, as if a dam had been opened up. I’m not sure they were even coherent or intelligible. The one thing I did know was that there was no mistaking the agony in my voice. As I beseeched him, Tristan watched me with the expression of a benevolent tyrant hearing a condemned man’s last plea before sending him to the gallows. His cock continued to travel oh so slowly down my hungry path.
At last I gave up, knowing I could never hope to sway him, my beautiful and cruel tormentor, that he might keep me on the edge of ecstasy and despair for hours. Maybe forever. I was lost, as lost as a woman could possibly be.
Tristan didn’t say a word. He propped himself over me as if to do pushups. The next second, he was plunging in and out, pounding his delicious strength into me, taking me hard and fast and I was on that roller coaster ride up and up and up, coming closer to the
peak of the highest drop, suspended there, waiting for that last shift in gravity…
“Come, Brandilynn.”
Plunging, plunging into the depths at neck-cracking speed, swallowed up in the fall, then jerked upwards again only to plummet once more, flying, my screams trailing behind me, and Tristan’s bellow joining the riot of sound and sensation.
Man, what a ride.
When Tristan’s weight settled on me once more, I wished the ties binding me away so I could wrap my arms around him. We held each other, feeling our very happy, very satisfied sexes convulse together. This warm, contented part wasn’t as crazy amazing as what had just happened, but it was every bit as good. This is where my heart basked like a beach bunny tanning on the sand. Who needs excitement with a bunch of lawbreaking shapeshifters when you can have this kind of complacent quiet?
Netherworld II: Blood Potion No. 9 Page 22