Authors: Joey W. Hill
Vampire Trinity (43 page)
You scream if you must, Gideon.
Anwyn’s sensual tone, her Mistress’s voice.
You are ours, and this is what we desire. You are serving us, giving us pleasure with your pain.
Anwyn’s sensual tone, her Mistress’s voice.
You are ours, and this is what we desire. You are serving us, giving us pleasure with your pain.
He realized he’d divided his focus solely between Dagean’s cock and Anwyn’s lashing. Perhaps because of the weird contrast to what was happening, he was drawing peace from the familiar smell of Daegan’s clothes, the cologne he’d used tonight. Muscular buttocks flexed just beyond the range of his fingertips as Daegan fucked his mouth.
I should have shoved my dick in here a long time ago, vampire hunter. I just never realized how effective it would be for shutting you up and getting you to focus on more important things.
Gideon managed to clumsily score him with his teeth, hard enough to earn a grunt. Daegan’s hand shifted to give his hair a sharp, warning tug, but he thought he heard the vampire’s feral chuckle, and a muttered, “Careful. Payback is hell.”
It was going to be okay. Daegan was ragging his ass. He was going to survive this. He was. A clear image arrived in his brain, compliments of Anwyn. Gideon, stretched out and tied on a rough wooden wheel like a medieval torture device, turned upside down so Daegan could close his mouth over him without the subservience of being on his knees. It made Gideon still the slave, Daegan tormenting him, holding him helpless and upside down, sucking and sucking until he was so close to coming . . .
Thwack.
The wet meat of loosened skin slapped against open wounds.
The wet meat of loosened skin slapped against open wounds.
He did scream this time, and the pulsation against Daegan’s cock made the organ jump. Daegan’s hand convulsed as well.
That’s it. Scream, vampire hunter. Vibrate against my cock, so I can shoot come down your throat. That is what a servant does. Serves his Master and Mistress’s will, no matter what he is enduring.
That’s it. Scream, vampire hunter. Vibrate against my cock, so I can shoot come down your throat. That is what a servant does. Serves his Master and Mistress’s will, no matter what he is enduring.
Gideon thought he might black out or vomit, but he did neither. Drawing on the determination that had gotten him through a couple decades of hell, he pushed past the pain, heard the voices of Anwyn and Daegan’s encouragement in his mind as he worked himself up and down that organ, pushing back into the lash. Somewhere along the way, screams turned into animal growls, snarls of rage, defiance and rutting pleasure. He became all beast, red-eyed and ready to kill, to fuck, to do anything but break.
Daegan’s grip on his wrists was iron, while Anwyn decorated him with a crisscrossing of stripes on his ass and back that dripped blood onto his thighs, running down inside his pants.
Come for me, you bastard. Give me every drop.
You do not order me to do anything, Gideon. Tell me what you want.
I want you to come. But I’m not begging for it.
One day, you will.
With a matching growl, Daegan released, holding Gideon’s hair in a hard grip to shove himself to the back of his throat, shooting hot seed there as Anwyn landed the last five strokes in hot, hard, bloody succession. Gideon howled, even as he furiously worked to keep Daegan’s jetting come going down his throat. He was dying, except he knew no one ever seemed to die of agonizing pain. Another of God’s constant stream of ironies.
You’re done, Gideon. You did it.
Exhausted satisfaction swept in among the wreckage. He’d done it. He’d given them both what they wanted, hadn’t failed. Was a part of them.
No, that didn’t make any sense. Fuzzily he recalled this had been a test for the Council, not something he was doing for Daegan and Anwyn.
It doesn’t matter. It’s all the same. And you never fail us, love. Never.
Daegan was slowly withdrawing, and Gideon couldn’t help himself. He cleaned it as it left his mouth, nuzzling it, giving it a sharp bite that won another of those sexy warning noises. He tried for a sneer to tell the vamp what he could do with his warnings, but he couldn’t seem to find the energy to curl up the corners of his lips. He should have been falling down. Instead, embarrassingly enough, he was leaning into Daegan, his head against his hip. Crazy world that it was, Daegan stroked his hair, that manly tousle, sensual affection. He hadn’t failed.
You’ve never failed, Gideon.
Daegan shifted, and Anwyn took his place, letting him lean into her soft abdomen, his head below her breasts. Perfect. The male musk and enticing hardness of Daegan replaced by female perfume and soft flesh. The best of both worlds, as long as both worlds were named Daegan and Anwyn. God, his brain was turning into a sentimental mush. He’d never hurt so much in his life.
Daegan shifted, and Anwyn took his place, letting him lean into her soft abdomen, his head below her breasts. Perfect. The male musk and enticing hardness of Daegan replaced by female perfume and soft flesh. The best of both worlds, as long as both worlds were named Daegan and Anwyn. God, his brain was turning into a sentimental mush. He’d never hurt so much in his life.
Then he felt two things. The first was Daegan, behind him now. At the first touch of the male vamp’s lips, he shuddered, somehow wondering if he should object. He’d said he didn’t want Daegan marking him, drinking from him, but this was different, right? His tongue sliding along those welts, gathering the blood, licking it away, soothing, using the blood-clotting agents in his tongue. Anwyn brought her wrist under his nose and Gideon smelled that rich burgundy of her blood, a vein opened for him.
Drink, Gideon. It will take away the pain, and you’ll heal more quickly.
She pressed it to his mouth, and it was easier not to resist, to simply seal his mouth over it and drink. It tasted so much different than he’d expected blood to taste. It tasted like her, the best chocolate and whipped-cream dessert, flavored with exotic female sex.
Daegan’s sensual firm mouth, following each welt, tasting his blood, made him tremble with pain and desire at once. God, he was hard as nails. If anyone touched him right now, he’d go off like a geyser, despite the fact he hurt like he’d been hit by a truck. Jesus. Those third marks were something else. He should be half-dead, or all the way dead, not even thinking of his cock. Instead, he wanted to plow into Anwyn’s sweet, slick cunt, feel her arms wrap around him. He’d maybe even be okay with Daegan there. Gideon could sink between her legs, and then maybe Daegan would guide himself into Gideon, so they were locked together and Gideon was between them, full and complete, the center of everything they needed. Like the weapons room, except maybe he wouldn’t fight so much this time. See where surrender took him.
But that was just more pain-crazed talk, wasn’t it? He’d lost his mind. It floated away from him like a child’s balloon on the wind. He lay down and watched it drift ever higher, until he couldn’t see it anymore.
Daegan rose at length, his slacks refastened and belt buckled. Gideon was slumped against Anwyn, unconscious, his arms still wrapped around her waist and hips, his large body partly leaning against Daegan’s leg now. Putting his hand on Gideon’s shoulder, Daegan experienced a tender and dangerous protectiveness toward the man that he’d felt only toward one other, and he was clasping her shoulder with his other hand, a united front.
He’d done many things in his life, experienced horrors and wonders great and small, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt such an explosive mix of emotion as he carried within him now. Putting a mask over it was perhaps one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he did it.
“Did that prove what you needed proving, Lord Belizar?” He hoped his tone accurately conveyed that if it wasn’t, the Russian wouldn’t be keeping all of his appendages.
Belizar leaned back in his chair, looking sated with the aftermath. In fact, there was a fairly weighted silence in the room. The servant Alanna looked stunned and pale. Drained in some odd way.
“Indeed,” Lord Belizar murmured. “I think you and the fledgling have provided us a more intense entertainment than we have experienced in some time. Far more emotional than I expected between ones with such a short history together.”
Daegan knew it wasn’t always the amount of time that formed bonds, but the circumstances. He inclined his head, though. “Then, if that is all, I will take them back to our quarters to recuperate. I expect to take my leave tomorrow night, unless there are other matters to address.”
“You expect?” Lady Barbra rallied enough to send him a sharp look. “You may request to be excused, Lord Daegan, but you never presume to expect anything of us.”
“I believe I was addressing Lord Belizar,” Daegan said shortly, making it clear how much authority he gave her. While he hadn’t held much doubt, the moment he’d met their gazes, he’d known Stephen and Barbra had been responsible for Barnabus. Like Gideon, he understood that meant they were responsible for Anwyn as well. For that alone, they’d earned a death sentence, and as soon as he could figure out how to administer it so it didn’t endanger Anwyn and Gideon, he’d carry it out.
“Though I do concur with Lady Barbra’s admonishment,” Belizar said, in a reassuringly mild tone, “I will allow for the fact that, if you have amazed and depleted us, you have likely depleted your limited diplomacy skills as well. Go to your quarters, Lord Daegan. I will send word as to the Council’s pleasure regarding you and your charges before dawn.”
16
W
HEN Gideon surfaced, it was to a gentle hand on his brow and cool cloths on his back and buttocks. He was facedown on a bed and bare-assed naked. When he tested movement, he found he could move far more easily than he expected. Reaching back, he found one of the deeper stripes along his rib cage was already a pink strip of healed skin.
HEN Gideon surfaced, it was to a gentle hand on his brow and cool cloths on his back and buttocks. He was facedown on a bed and bare-assed naked. When he tested movement, he found he could move far more easily than he expected. Reaching back, he found one of the deeper stripes along his rib cage was already a pink strip of healed skin.
“The blessing and curse of being a third-marked servant. They can beat the hell out of you, torture you all they want, and after a day or two, they could do it all over again, your skin completely unmarked.”
“Not entirely,” he murmured, finding her hand, whispering over her stroking fingers. “My Mistress gave me some permanent ones. You did good, Anwyn. They’re the jerks, not you.”
She paused, adjusting the packs on his back, though he thought the whisper of her fingers felt even better over his flanks than the ice.
“Let me amend that,” she said. “You’ll be fine in a day except for your brain damage. That’s inoperable because no surgical saw is strong enough to cut through your thick skull.”
“Nice.” Gideon cracked his eyes open at last to see her lovely face. “Hi there.”
Her eyes crinkled, though he saw the strain around her mouth, in the blue-green depths. “Hey yourself. I can probably remove the towels if you want to sit up.” She stroked his brow again. “Gideon, I’m so sorry.”
“Not your doing, Mistress. I’m just grateful you remembered you have a vampire’s strength before you started swinging that thing, else you might have had to reassemble my ribs like bowling pins.” With a cautious groan, he pushed himself up, giving Anwyn time to move the packs. Except for an initial moment of light-headedness, he was remarkably himself. “Wow. I feel like a superhero. How did I get here?” He gave her a sidelong glance. “Please don’t tell me that you carried me. Flesh-ripping pain I can handle; being carried by a girl will require ritual suicide.”
“Worse than that. Daegan did.” She gave him a mock grimace. “And though you weren’t carried by a girl, you were carried like a girl. He cradled you in his arms as gently as a mother. It was very touching. And impressive, considering how big you are.”
“Christ. Tell him next time to just drag me by one boot heel.”
“Letting your head thump, thump, thump down the stairs?”
“Well, you said that couldn’t hurt anything, right?”
Anwyn put a hand on the side of his face, her gaze sobering. “I
am
sorry.”
am
sorry.”
“Sorry for having to do it, or sorry for the fact you kind of enjoyed it?” He kept his gaze level with hers, no condemnation in the simple truth. She cocked her head, stroking her knuckles through the hair at his temples, teasing the light scattering of silver strands, and passed her thumb over his lips.
“I was immersed in your thoughts there at the end,” she murmured. “Though I’ve always known the relationship between pain and surrender, pleasure and release, there is something about what I am now that has made testing those boundaries that much keener. I felt how you let go to me, and to Daegan, and for a moment, despite how horrible it all was, it was . . .”
“Perfect.” He finished it for her, lifted a shoulder. “Whatever it is that you have in you, combined with what was before, found an answer somewhere inside me. Don’t know how to deal with it, how to talk about it. Hell, really don’t want to talk about it. Would rather just leave it there, you know. It happened, and that’s that.”
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