Sage

by Talyn Scott

  “I know what you’re thinking.” He tossed the toy up and down in his outsized palm. “So stop.”

  “You don’t know — ”

  “The thong’s coming off nice and slow. Don’t even think about backing up to the wall and hiding that voluptuous ass from me.” He took one step closer. “You will turn around.”

  “Roman - ”

  “Your punishment will be hot and painful if you continue to disobey, Scarlett.” He loomed over her, his black hair gleaming blue under the recessed halogens. “So are you going to say no, or do as I say?”

  She turned around, giving him what he wanted: a prime view of her ass. It was impossible not to obey the steel in Roman’s voice, not with the way her body ached to be filled. She’d wanted this for so long, surely Scarlett could fight the embarrassment caused by a few or more pounds of cellulite.

  “Now hook your thumbs on either side of your hips and ease the lace down, slowly.” After a sharp exhale, his voice was nearly ragged when he demanded, “Now bend all the way over. Fuck, you are swollen for me.” He stood behind her, the heat of his body roasting her ass and pussy. “Kick out from the thong.”

  She obeyed, but when Scarlett lifted, Roman pressed his scorching palm between her shoulder blades and eased her back down. “Listen to my commands, not to your mind telling you what it thinks I want.”

  He knelt next to her, lifting the soft pink lace to his face. Instead of inhaling her scent as she expected, Roman sucked the soaked string between his teeth with a groaning growl. Then he pocketed her thong and pushed back the tawny hair draping her eyes.

  “I watched you use this in New York.” He lifted the vibrator, flicking it on. With his hand, he lifted Scarlett’s dangling breast and roamed the stimulating cup over her descended tip. “When I thought you were napping in your room, I was surprised and hardened to hear those crazy moans, the tiny sound of this toy.” He moved it to her other breast, allowing the suction to draw the very tip of her nipple deep, the feathery teeth to lick her skin with pleasure.

  “Ah, Roman…”

  “At that time,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers, her blood pooling from her bent over state, “I wanted to storm in your room, spread your legs wide, and fuck some sense into you.”

  “What sense would you have fucked into me?” Shifting her thighs to stroke her clit, she wished the toy was where it was designed to go — instead of teasing her nipples.

  “That you were mine.” He gave her a hard kiss, moving it around her hip. “That you’d always been mine.”

  “Please,” she begged, wiggling her ass, “I ache.”

  He feathered the suction cup over her labia, gliding it up and down her slicked folds and gathering moisture. But to her dismay, he moved it to her ass.

  She bolted upright. “I don’t do that.”

  Roman closed his eyes as though she delivered him a death sentence. “Bend back over. I can help you understand the foreign sensations. You’ll become accustomed and relax under my hand.”

  Scarlett shook her head no while stepping away. He stayed on his knees, staring up at her with new concern. For a moment, they looked at one another, neither giving in. Then the toy smashed in the palm of his hand, the fragments hitting the floor in an astounding array of purple dust. “Who hurt you, Scarlett?”

  He had the wrong idea. “It was nothing like that.” When he raised a fierce eyebrow, she lifted her hands in a pleading gesture. Surely, Roman knew her better than this. “If someone hurt me like what you’re thinking, I would have run him over with my truck and reported the accident to the cops.”

  He leaned forward, gripped her hips with gentle hands and pressed a kiss on her navel. “Tell me.” He spread his fingers as he rested his chin on her stomach and looked up at her, the wide span of Roman’s hands easily covering half of her generous butt. “Why are you refusing ass play, Scarlett?”

  Although she had no reason to feel ashamed, she still admitted rather sheepishly, “I celebrated this upcoming birthday with a threesome. The guy I’d started dating had invited over one of his friends from work, and I enjoyed more than cake.”

  He moved up her naked body, the expensive weave of his shirt and trousers reigniting her skin, and hauled her against him. Her heavy breasts flattened between them. “And?”

  She brought her hands around his neck, flitting the glossy ends of his hair. “It started out as the fantasy I craved, four hands, two mouths, and two… Well, you get the picture. But I’d only experienced anal years ago, and wasn’t prepared. So I’d refused that part. ”

  “You wanted them to take turns only in your pussy?”

  “Sort of.” She chewed her lip a second, fighting honesty’s embarrassment. “I took my boyfriend from behind and then his friend into my mouth. Sometime afterwards, we all fell asleep. When morning rolled around, I was comfortable enough to give anal a try.”

  “And they hurt you.”

  “Not intentionally.”

  “If your lover didn’t prepare you for his or his friend’s cock, Scarlett,” Roman argued, “then I blame him for your pain.”

  “But neither of them hurt me with his cock.”

  Every muscle in Roman’s body had stiffened. “Then what — ”

  She covered his mouth with her fingertips. “Nor was I disrespected or hit or any of those horrible things that’s rushing through your mind right now. Let’s just say that part of my threesome experience was off, and leave it at that.”

  He snagged her hand, kissing her fingertips. “So you’re not afraid but untrained. I will remedy that soon.” He grabbed a few things from a draw and led her to the bed. “I want to claim everything, Scarlett. Don’t you want me to be everywhere in you, sharing an intimacy you’ll forge with no other?”

  “I don’t know if I can forget my other experience quickly enough to deal with whatever you want to throw my way.”

  “Denying this intimacy between us is a shame. There’s nothing closer than me in your ass, you submitting in the basest of ways.”

  She relented, partly. “I’ll think about it.”

  He pressed his fingertips on her chest, herding her until the back of her knees touched his bed. “You do that, Scarlett. While I explore what's mine — the gift that is you.”

  “What are those cuffs for?” Though her friends had tried bondage, one even joining a private club, Scarlett never trusted any of her lovers enough to submit to ropes and chains. This was rule number one, according to that same friend. Because if she couldn’t trust a lover with the safety of her body, Scarlett shouldn’t trust him with her heart.

  This man in front of her, however, was Roman.

  And her heart already belonged to him.

  He closed those heartbreaking eyes for a moment, then opened them wide, and Scarlett could’ve sworn the irises glowed and expanded into the white’s of his eyes.

  Roman curled a finger beneath her chin, lifting her face to brush his lips across hers. “You are the most stunning creature I’ve ever had the pleasure to see. I am honored to touch you. Do you understand? Honored.”

  She nearly lost her breath. “Thank you.” Compliments were easy enough to get from friends and lovers, but the way he said those words… It was as if they stroked her very soul. Scarlett shivered just as her face and neck warmed under his blatant perusal of her body.

  Roman’s mouth opened a fraction as he sucked his bottom lip between his straight white teeth. “What a pretty shade of pink, Scarlett. I want to see that same color on your ass, too, right after I’ve warmed it with my hands.” Again, he touched the center of her chest with his fingertips, guiding her against the thick column of his bedpost. “Raise your hands over your head, and hold still while I attach your cuffs.”

  Chapter 5

  Oycher and Sage caught up to Flynn, just in time to see the old Mercedes making its rounds. Sage didn’t have to speculate on where the car was going. “I’m certain they’re heading to a private airstrip often utilized by the Russian
Coven.”

  “I think you’re right.” Oycher shook the sleet from his hair. Both had run, the wind gusts preventing them from misting. “I remember that airstrip from my academy days.”

  Sage glided over the snow packed street, his damp boots hitting small drifts along the way. Next to him, Flynn pulled a sawed-off from his coat, pumped it, and aimed at the Mercedes’ back tires.

  “The streets are slick and lined with trees,” Oycher warned. “If you use that, Beta, you’re going to kill the female instead of rescuing her.”

  Flynn kept a visual on the Mercedes, his irises glowing cerulean blue in the shadows of the night. “If I can’t get to the female, death is preferable to whatever they’ve planned for her.” He let the first shot go. His immortal eyesight predicted the bullet’s trajectory with lethal precision.

  The Mercedes careened toward a line of trees, doing just what Oycher had predicted.

  Sage recoiled. “Fuck!”

  Flynn ate up the sidewalk in long strides, as the car struck the corner of a brick and mortar building.

  “Cover the back alleyway,” Oycher directed Sage, running to the crash.

  Spinning left, Sage aimed for a bisected alley, when something struck him hard in the back of his knee. Unable to right himself, he landed on the sidewalk. Then his hands went to his feet, before he slipped daggers from his boots, and flipped sideways to come face to face with the kidnapping Lovec who’d dropped his glamour.

  “What the hell is your problem?”

  The Lovec warned, “I’ve a warning for you.”

  “From whom?”

  “Edik.”

  This couldn’t be happening. “Right.”

  “He says you’re to leave Russia.” The Lovec’s ebony wings curled, shielding his body from winter’s cold. “He says you’re in over your head.”

  “I’ve been in over my head a time or two.” Sage stepped forward. “But I’ve never run.”

  “Then I’m pulling rank, Vojak.”

  “After what I saw back at the restaurant, I doubt your jurisdiction.” He bared his fangs. “As for me, I’m happy to haul a rogue back to the Dynasty Empire, though. Prince Volos never tolerates abusers of females.” Without warning, Sage released a flying blade. “Neither do I.”

  The blade hit the Lovec’s shoulder. The bastard’s shocked response would have been comical, if not for the way his wings suddenly hooded like a great cobra readying to strike. Sage reached for another blade just when the Lovec snapped out his wings on either side of his body.

  The wind created by that simple movement nearly sent Sage sprawling again on the sidewalk, but he reared back and managed to slice the Lovec’s wing with his dagger. Now, both sides of the his body dripped scarlet against the velvet drape of his wings.

  The bastard charged forward. “For that, I’ll have a nice long drink from your heart, Vojak, while it’s still beating in your chest.”

  Sage completely released his vampire, throwing himself into his most lethal form. A red haze covered his vision as he dove with claws and fangs into the Lovec’s unforgiving chest.

  While Sage shredded flesh and bone, a claw from the Lovec’s wing hooked Sage’s Stavz. This was the worst possible weapon any opponent could take. It imploded internal organs, sometimes the brain, and flattened any vampire on its back for at least three days.

  Sage hooked his booted heel into the back of the Lovec’s knee. When he bowed, Sage gripped those enormous wings with his be-clawed hands and tried to roll the Lovec backwards.

  And it would have worked beautifully.

  If the Lovec hadn’t slammed Sage straight in the stomach with a jolt from his Stavz.

  Holy. Shit.

  Blinding pain drove Sage to the sidewalk. He opened his mouth, yet he couldn’t manage even to curse. His red haze dropped, his vampire retreating to repair itself, as Sage’s body scrambled from the weapon’s blow.

  Looking up, he knew by the glint in the Lovec’s eyes exactly what was coming.

  And there was nothing Sage could do about it.

  But he wouldn’t look away.

  The Lovec stood over Sage, his legs now straddling him as his weight came down on Sage’s chest. “You want to know what else Prince Volos does not tolerate?” He curled his finger beneath Sage’s chin, and even that simple touch catapulted him into another level of hell. “Mercenaries, Vojak, the Dynasty Empire has executed, without fail, every single mercenary discovered since the beginning of the beginning.”

  He lifted from his chest, and Sage just managed to roll to his side.

  He wanted to vomit but couldn’t find the strength. So Sage watched on helplessly as the Lovec pulled out a set of binding cuffs gleaming with the Dynasty Empire’s seal. With a manacle grin, he dangled them from his claws, letting them swing in the breeze. “You should have listened and walked away.” His eyes burned with black flames, the pupils flashing citrine as they narrowed into cat-like slits.

  Just as Sage’s organs crumpled in on themselves, and he took a rasping breath that was as near to final death as he’d ever come, a familiar hand latched on the Lovec’s shoulder, shoving him brutally out of the way.

  The Lovec staggered back with a gurgling hiss, his hands and wings flying out at his sides. Slowly, his chin went down to survey his body. There, in the center of the his chest, was Oycher’s favorite blade.

  “You will not touch one of mine,” Oycher hissed, his eyes a burning sunset that promised centuries of torture without the mercy of death — something of which the Commanding Vojak was famous.

  Oycher spun around with a sidekick and sent the Lovec flying backwards more forcefully than the last, this time into a streetlamp. Clenching his fists at his sides, Oycher released his vampire. “Get up and fight me!”

  The Lovec straightened, snapped out his bloodied wings, and swung his arms high. “I’ll be collecting the bounty on his head real soon.” Instantly, he was soaring high in the air, a fresh fall of snow dusting his wings.

  When he looked down, the Lovec winked at Sage. “Remember what I said, mercenary.”

  Oycher threw two flying blades, nailing each of his wings. Black feathers scattered down, but the vampire kept flying.

  Oycher fell down on his knees next to sage, and sliced open his shirt, exposing the fiery wound from the Stavz. Oycher studied it for a moment, then looked into Sage’s eyes with open resignation. The commander’s skills had grown considerably since finding his Bride. He could fight a variety of creatures, as evidenced just then with the Lovec. But in this moment, there wasn’t a damn thing Oycher could do to stop the Stavz from ravaging Sage.

  “I hate feeling helpless with you, Sage. I really do.”

  A surge of wild pain ripped through Sage, like buzzsaws tearing through his veins. He opened his mouth wide, unable to stop his scream.

  And when was the last time he screamed like that?

  Elissa…

  He blinked away the memory as he entered yet another level of hell, one of may levels he would traverse during the next three days.

  Even with the pain, he wondered if his commander had heard everything, if Oycher now knew Sage was not just a Vampyr Vojak but also a hired mercenary — a vampire not abiding by any bounty laws.

  “I’ve known for a while,” Oycher answered Sage’s unspoken question. “I never took it to Maestru, certainly didn’t take it to Volos.” He smiled bitterly around his lowered fangs. “After all, I would not have my Isladora, if not for you rescuing her.” He lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. “So for her life, I allowed you your freedom, even knowing I would go down for withholding this sort of intel. That my silence could cost me my life. This is the least I owe you, my Bride’s savior.”

  Even if Sage could talk, there would be no words to accept Oycher’s spoken vow.

  In the next second, however, Sage pictured Flynn Ruyter going after the mixed blood without any backup.

  “Don’t make that face,” Oycher scolded. “I must choose you over the Beta blood;
you know this.”

  In vampiric speed, Oycher worked his phone and barked out his demands, “I have an immediate problem. I need the address for Sage’s immediate kin. No, besides his mother.” He rolled his eyes. “She doesn’t need to see this. Right, preferably a male in Nizhnevartovsk or Siberia. And send me over a set of Vojaks while you’re at it. Nope, fly them in.” He looked around, his eyes glowing sunset in the dark night. “Weather is not conducive to misting.”

  He tilted his head then. “Got it. Listen, remove the address you just gave me from our system. D’akujem.”

  Gingerly, he lifted Sage in his arms. “I’ll feed you after you’re settled.”

  The pain of his shifting body insurmountable, another scream tore from Sage’s throat. His head dropped against Oycher’s shoulder before blessed darkness swallowed him whole.

  Chapter 6

  With his eyes locked on Scarlett, Roman fastened the cuffs to her wrists, securing them above her head with an ominous click, before carefully running his finger inside them to ensure ample circulation and comfort.

  When his hands moved up, she followed the visual. Scarlett watched as he expertly fastened a small chain between her cuffed wrists to a sturdy yet sleek hook extending from the solid bedpost. When he pulled on the white rope now dangling next to her head, her body straightened, thrusting her breasts upward.

  “At least, I’m not dangling from the chandelier,” she quipped, though her voice held an edge of nervousness Scarlett couldn’t hide.

  One side of Roman’s mouth curled as he pointed northward. She glanced up and spotted a luminous chandelier with multiple tiers. In the center, a utilitarian hook protruded from the base, with several fasteners encircling it. Scarlett felt her mouth open wide, but she couldn’t stop the action. Nor did she take a breath.

  “Shh,” he soothed. “I won’t harness you up, if you’re frightened this much.” He closed her chin with the tip of his fingers. “Take a breath now.”