Alpha's Blood

by Renee Rose

  “If you can’t obey, you lose privileges,” he murmurs, and there’s an edge to his voice that makes my legs weak. He lifts me into position, setting me back on the ledge. “Now part your legs,” he orders. I tremble for a few seconds before obeying.

  “Hold still.”

  I go rigid as he soaps up the patch between my legs and shaves me. My abs tighten against panicked tremors at each pass of the blade, but my pussy throbs wildly.

  “Perfect.” Lucius runs a thumb over my smooth labia. A shot of water sluices across my sensitive bits as he takes the hand held sprayer and rinses me thoroughly. My hips tilt, seeking more stimulation.

  His dark chuckle fills the bathroom.

  Still blindfolded, I am rinsed and dried and swaddled in a fluffy robe. I reach for the eye covering and get a light nipple tweak in chastisement. He makes me wait a few minutes before removing it. He changed into a dressing robe, tied loosely over his broad chest and black slacks. He’s barefoot, but no less intimidating.

  “Hungry, pet?” he asks, and lifts me in his strong arms before I can answer. Apparently he’s going to carry me everywhere tonight. I like it way too much. I’d rather he throw me in a dungeon, chain me up and feed me bread and water. Based on Xavier’s training, I expected to be brought into the enemy’s lair, beaten and subjugated and punished. I never expected to be pampered. I don’t have any defenses against kindness.

  My body alive and singing, he carries me to the kitchen and seats me at a table.

  He sets a plate down in front of me. Simple fare. Bread, cheese, a few rosettes of prosciutto and olives. Antipasti.

  He gestures to the plate with a log of salami. “Eat, little wolf.”

  I take a few bites, watching him as he unwraps the stick of meat and takes a bite.

  I drop the olive meant for my mouth.

  “What is it, Selene?”

  “You’re eating,” I point out dumbly.

  “I can eat and drink as you do.” He looks pointedly at my plate until I retrieve the fallen olive and pop it in my mouth. “I just do not need to.”

  “But I thought…” I flush.

  “You thought I’d be dining on you?”

  I stare at my plate, no longer hungry.

  “I will one day. When you are trained. You will beg for it.”

  “What? No,” I say before I can stop myself.

  “You think you can withstand me?” He picks up a napkin and wipes his large hands, smiling. Even sitting, he’s head and shoulders taller than me. I feel like a child at a giant’s table. He could just manhandle me into doing whatever he wants. Did I really think my training would make me his equal?

  “Speak, pet. Tell me what you fear.”

  “Are you going to wipe my mind?” I ask what’s been bothering me. Xavier said Frangelico wouldn’t stoop to such measures, but it’s possible. He could make me forget everything. Replace my memories with whatever lies he wanted.

  “I don’t want a mindless puppet. If I did, I wouldn’t have bid on you.”

  The promise of a vampire is worthless, but you can bet on their pride. I believe Frangelico. He wants a pet to willingly bow to him. He’ll train me the way he wants, and present me to his vampire subjects at the party he’s planning.

  “Ten million dollars,” I say. “What makes you think I’m worth it?”

  He tosses the napkin onto his plate. “I’ve already gotten my money’s worth. You’re a fighter. Unwilling to be cowed. You fake submission when it suits you.”

  I hold still, trying not to twitch. Frangelico’s in my head. No, he’s just observant. Two thousand years of studying human behavior. Did I think I would fool him so easily?

  The question is: how long do I have before he figures out the reason I’m here? And when he does, how long will I survive?

  My heart flutters in my chest, a bird in a snare struggling to be free. The Vampire King seems to know how he affects me. Worse, he enjoys it.

  He leans forward. “But I’ll tell you something, pet, something you won’t even admit to yourself. Underneath, you want to submit. You fight that most of all.”

  A rush of adrenaline almost has me bounding out of my seat. I hit the table with my fist, glowering at Lucius.

  “No. You’re wrong.”

  Lucius

  I’m so right.

  Ah, delicious. So much fight. She’s nothing like Georgianna, who was a meek thing, willing to please. Selene is a cooling zephyr in a desert. I enjoy riling her up as much as I enjoy putting her in her place.

  I tilt my head to the side. “Care to wager?”

  “What?”

  “Let’s play a game, pet. I will do everything I can to elicit your submission. You will fight me. One hour.” I raise a finger. “It is up to you to resist me, and me to convince you to submit.”

  “You could just hurt me until I break,” she points out.

  “I could. But I will not. Tonight I will not hurt you...much.”

  “That’s not very reassuring.”

  “Life rarely gives us reassurances. But I will give you one: you will experience as much pleasure as you do pain. Perhaps more.” I pause and let my voice deepen. “A lot more.”

  She runs a finger around the edge of her plate, considering.

  “What do you say, pet? My skill against your will.”

  “How do we know who wins?”

  “I’ll let you decide. Only you can know if you’ve truly surrendered.”

  Her brow furrows. “You could just compel me.”

  “That’s cheating.” She gives me a look, and I suppress a laugh. “How about this? I swear on my grave I will not compel you. Ever.”

  “Ever?”

  “I keep my promises, pet. Now you have no reason to hesitate.”

  But she does, so tense I remind her to breathe.

  “It’s just a harmless little game,” I soothe. “I have so little entertainment these days. You could prove, once and for all, that you have the will to stop me. Or I could prove that deep down, you want me to take control. One hour. One night. May the best one win.”

  A little quiver goes through her. Very good. She’s knows the risks of playing with a vampire. Still, she’s curious. I smell it in her scent.

  “What will you give me if I win?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  Her eyebrows shoot up. “And if I want to leave?”

  “Do you want to leave? Where would you go? Another vampire might snap you up, especially after that show on the stage. They’re watching you and I, even now. If you walk out of here, they won’t hesitate to grab you, and bend you to their will, if only to prove that they can cow you better than I.” Fear flares in her scent and I finish, “You’re safer here with me, the King of the Vampires, than with anyone else.”

  She blows out a breath. She knows I’m right.

  “Is there anything else you desire?” I ask.

  “Crawling. I don’t want to crawl.” Her mouth is set in a grim line. “You said I would have to crawl when we’re at home.”

  “Very well, pet. If you win, you will only crawl if you desire it.”

  Her chin jerks up. “I won’t ever desire it.”

  I just smile.

  Selene

  The Vampire King smiles and my bones melt. I steel myself for an attack, but it never comes. Only these subtle games that keep me guessing.

  “Finished?” He indicates my plate. I nod and he comes around to help me out of my chair. Predator, my body screams when he steps behind me. I half rise before he pulls my chair away. He offers his hand and I hesitate. His look turns mocking. I’m not scared of holding his hand, am I?

  Of course I am. But I won’t let a little thing like fear stop me. Lucius proposed this game, and I’m going to win. At worst, I’ll learn more about what he’s about. At best, I’ll prove he’ll never be my master.

  He leads me into a long room that ends in french doors overlooking a dark patio. Chairs and coffee tables and couches, a gorgeous bar, p
aintings on the wall--everything is pure, opulent but tasteful luxury. In between two windows is a long expanse of wall covered by a tapestry. Lucius positions me in front of it and draws the cloth hanging aside, exposing two large wooden bars set in an X formation.

  “Are you familiar with the St. Andrew’s cross?” Lucius bends to open an antique looking chest. “The saint was crucified on a diagonally shaped cross. Upside down, by his request. Don’t worry, pet. We won’t be reenacting that particular scene.”

  I shiver but stay where he put me. He strips off his dressing robe, baring his chest again before approaching me. I expect him to strip me roughly, but he only gathers my hair back. He fiddles with it for a moment. What is he doing? He’s not...no way.

  Lucius Frangelico, Vampire King, is braiding my hair.

  When he’s done, he steps back and looks me up and down. He must like what he sees, because he turns away with the order, “Strip and stand in front of the cross, facing outwards.”

  The game has begun, and it’s a mind fuck. I’m supposed to participate willingly in my subjugation.

  This doesn’t mean I submit to him, I tell myself as I undo the tie on the robe and let it fall. If I let him put me on the cross, I know what will happen. He’ll use an implement on me--some medieval torture device he keeps in the trunk by the window--and it’ll hurt.

  But I can take the pain.

  After the soft touches that confuse me, I’ll welcome it. I need to remember to hate Lucius Frangelico.

  I can’t suppress a tremor as he returns to my side. He takes my wrists and secures them above my head in cuffs attached to the cross, and kneels to loosely bind my feet apart. His dark hair brushes my thigh and my heart nearly pounds out of my chest.

  “Breathe, Selene,” he murmurs. “Don’t forget to breathe.”

  I obey, taking big gulps of air. This is going to hurt, but I’m ready. Xavier made sure I could withstand discomfort and pain, all sorts of pain. I lay awake long nights, my body aching, wondering what tortures Lucius might choose to inflict on me. I can endure anything when I focus on Lucius’ death. I close my eyes and imaging the killing blow.

  “Comfortable?” He jars me out of my concentration. He has me wiggle my fingers and toes, checking that the bonds aren’t too tight. I want to glare at him. What’s his game? If you tie a woman up to hurt her, what does it matter if her circulation is good? Keeps her alive longer, I guess. I wouldn’t expect a vampire to care.

  “A few rules.” He moves out of my line of sight. “I’m in charge of the scene, but you can stop it at anytime. Just say, Stop. If I’ve gagged you or you can’t talk, snapping your fingers means the same thing. Nod if you understand.”

  I bob my head, but I still don’t get it. He won’t stop if he doesn’t want to. Would he?

  Lucius takes his place in front of me. “This is a flogger.” He shows me his chosen tool. Black strands hang from a smooth mahogany handle. He runs the flogger up and down my body and I shiver.

  “No need to fear. I can make it feel good.” He flicks his wrist and flogs my chest. The strands fall in a light rain.

  “Does that hurt?”

  I jerk my head to the left.

  “Answer me. You can speak out loud. Does this hurt?” He repeats the movement.

  “No.”

  He raises a brow.

  “I mean, no, Sir.”

  “Good. How about this?”

  He swings his arm, flogging me in a criss cross motion. The strands hit my skin with a harder thud. I register the impact but again, it’s miles away from pain.

  “No,” I sigh.

  “That’s it, pet. Just enjoy it. Think of it as a massage. Sensation.”

  I blow out a breath and my shoulders move away from my ears.

  “That’s it. Relax.” Lucius’ voice deepens. He’s one hundred percent focused on me, his movements slow and controlled. The flogger is an extension of his large body. He whips my chest until my breasts are pink. The flogger dances down my body, slapping my hips and thighs, coming close to my pussy without trespassing. I rock my weight from left to right in subtle response to each soft impact. Heat dances through my body, lulling me into compliance.

  “Let’s make this a little more interesting,” Lucius says. He disappears and returns with a small wooden chest. I crane my neck but can’t see past the open lid until he removes what he wants, puts the chest away and shows me two tiny rubber and metal clamps.

  “Uh-uh,” I shake my head and he makes a show of waiting. I don’t say stop, but I glare at him while he attaches the clamps to my nipples. A slight pinch, but my pussy pulses in sympathy. My breasts swell as if happy for the attention.

  “Now.” Lucius shakes out the flogger, and whips up and down my legs, warming them up, painting them pink. A few sharp snaps leave red lines on my thighs but no expected bloom of pain. Nipples throbbing, I greet the flogger’s rough kiss eagerly.

  “You like this?”

  I’m breathing hard, the bloom of arousal growing. Lucius leans over me, covering me with his powerful body, and my very skin leaps at the thought of him touching me. I turn my face up to accept a kiss, but he pushes the flogger between my legs and rubs there.

  “How about this? Do you like it?” Before I can answer in the negative, he holds the flogger up in front of my face. “Don’t lie to me.”

  I can see as well as he can: the strands are wet.

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” I growl.

  “Of course it doesn’t. Your body is beautiful, and it’s a natural reaction. Just let yourself go, Selene.”

  I growl to myself. He’s only in charge if I allow it.

  As if he reads my thoughts, he steps forward and releases both nipple clamps at the same time. Pain shoots through me and detonates in my pussy. I sag in my cuffs.

  “Hmmm,” he murmurs, sounding pleased. I stiffen my legs and stand straight. A little pain won’t best me.

  A smile plays on his lip as if he gets my unspoken message, and thinks it’s cute. He studies me carefully, checking me over.

  “You ready to turn around? I’ll work your back harder,” he warns.

  I raise my chin. “Do your worst.”

  Smiling to himself, he unties me and flips me around. “From here on out, I’m calling the shots.” He steadies me, moving my arms and legs where he wants them. Again he tests my fingers and toes, making sure I have good circulation. He tucks my braid over one shoulder.

  “You have a gorgeous ass,” he tells me, running his hand down my back and flank, stopping to grab a handful. “So tight and plump and delicious. I can’t wait to fuck it.” With that little promise sapping the strength from my knees, he steps back and dusts my back with the flogger.

  I press my forehead against the wood and relax into the rhythm. Left, right. Left right. Blood pumps, my breath flows in and out. Heat creeps over my back and ass. Lucius spends particular time flogging my butt until it’s warm to touch. Still no pain.

  “I wonder,” he murmurs and snaps his implement so the ends bite between my shoulder blades. A sharp sting that fades almost as quickly as it came. Heat floods through my core.

  “No,” I blurt, in response to my building arousal.

  “No?” Lucius asks. “Do you mean stop?”

  My safeword. He’s testing me.

  I shake my head. “Keep going.”

  He makes a cluck of disapproval. “Are you in charge?”

  “No, sir.” I attempt to sound meek.

  He makes a growly sound in his throat that makes my wolf shiver with ingrained submission, but he does return to flogging.

  I grab the ties binding my wrists and hold on. Lucius lets himself off his self-imposed leash, flogging me with greater and greater fervor until I’ve pushed up to tiptoe. I’m not sure if I’m trying to get away from the lash, or trying to give him more skin to strike. My body is one long, smooth line secured to the cross, the blush moving across my body like a rose coming to bloom. I close my eyes and bow my head,
still gripping the bindings tight. Behind me a harsh inhale, a grunt followed by the delicious snap are the only proof I’m not alone. I imagine Lucius’ body leaning into the strikes, shoulders flexing, forearm hard as iron, face composed. I wish I could see him.

  I wish I could rub my pussy on this polished wood. Every stroke carries me higher. The flogging continues, and I don’t know when it happened, but suddenly I’m floating. I’m floating in a warm, pink patch of air.

  “You’re doing so well, Selene.” The flogger’s smooth handle touches my labia’s soft folds, followed by his fingers. I whimper.

  “You’re so wet. So delicious. A juicy peach, I could just eat you.” I flinch and he laughs. “Maybe later. Right now, this is all I want.” He keeps rubbing and I twist out of reach.

  “What are you doing?”

  His arm snakes around, securing me so he can keep fondling me. He sets his chin on my shoulder and murmurs in my ear, “Does it feel good?”

  My chest heaves as my orgasm floats closer.

  “Ask me permission before you come.”

  I shake my head no, more for my own determination than response to him. No, I will not ask permission. No, I will not come.

  “All right.” He steps away and I sag forward, my body bowing at the loss. He wipes wet fingers on my ass before taking his spot behind me. The flogger flies again, stinging my back with the soft leather strands.

  “It’s your choice, pet. Always your choice.”

  How can that be true? How did I end up here, tied up willingly, dying for touch, sensation, anything. A soft touch. A stinging rain. Anything.

  “You’re a strong woman.” The flogger thuds up and down my back. “You want to prove it. I understand. But, Selene”--He pauses to step close and trail the strands over my ass until tingles run up my spine--“there’s nothing wrong with letting go. You want it.” His voice deepens, darkens. “I want it. In bondage, you can fly free.”

  I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about. I lean on the cross, hanging from the cuffs, my fingers fondling my chains. I want to arch my back and rub my pussy against this wood. I want to push my ass backwards and beg him to flog me harder.