Bound by the Vampire Queen (27 page)

Dragging her to the edge of the table so her ass hung over empty space, he smacked it hard as he pumped into her. The punishment made her gasp, her pussy clench over him. She was resisting him, trying to draw it out, knowing every moment it took would torment him, but she didn’t know her opponent. If there was one thing Jacob knew, it was the intricacies of a woman’s body, and what would send her up and over like a cannon. He wanted to put her through the wall.

He concentrated on that goal completely, refusing to look back at that window and see what was happening. Every second he wasted on that, Lyssa would be at the mercy of Arrdol and those nightmarish memories.

Rhoswen’s eyes were widening, lips parting. He saw the surprise and frustration that he was driving her up to that pinnacle so quickly. Each time he spanked her in tandem with the powerful thrusting, a moan broke from her throat. He should tell Cayden his queen might drive him less crazy if he dragged her into his armory several times a month for discipline. Maybe they were here because she’d fantasized about such a thing. She was doing it with Jacob, forcing him to it, because she couldn’t offer it to Cayden willingly.

A queen who never let down her guard could never be vulnerable. He knew the type all too well, though his lady had a straightforward honesty to her ruthlessness that seemed absent here.

A cry broke from Rhoswen’s lips. Her fingers dug into the reins so hard he saw one of the nails break.

She didn’t notice, milking him fiercely with the force of the climax. She managed to spare him a glance out of glazed, glittering blue eyes, but he showed her his teeth. Even if he had to cut off his own cock to stop it from happening, she wasn’t getting his release. He gave her the full measure of her own release though, thrusting into her just as powerfully through the full arc of her orgasm. She couldn’t hold on to control any longer. Her cry turned into a long scream.

The violent way she writhed and convulsed, it was as if she hadn’t experienced a climax in a long, long time. The straps dug hard into her wrists, so her fingers started turning blue. With a mental curse at himself for caring, Jacob stretched above her and loosened them with a quick jerk, so she was still restrained, but only because her fingers were tangled in the straps. As he maneuvered over her, he sank deeper, and he felt her mouth on his chest, teeth scraping and then biting down as the climax took her over yet another wave.

Her release went on for some time, and as he massaged her clit to the finish, he steeled himself to lift his gaze. Through that window, he saw Arrdol was gone. Lyssa was still bound to the archway, but alone, staring out the window at the fire castle, the flames reflected in her green eyes, white face. He’d bitten her, the bastard, left teeth prints in her shoulder. Jacob still couldn’t reach her mind, couldn’t tell her what was happening.

When Rhoswen let out a soft noise, signaling her repletion, Jacob would have pul ed out of her, stepped back, but she locked her legs around his hips. The reins were gone and now, with a swirl of mist, a disorienting sense that had him bracing his hands back over her on the table, he found himself somewhere else, his palms pressed into the ground of that meadow, his fingers spread on either side of Rhoswen’s lovely face. She was on her back, Jacob on top of her but unable to move, as if she held the weighted net of an enchantment upon him. Every hard line of him was pressed into every soft curve of her, her mound pressed to his stiff, unrelieved cock.

Reaching up, she touched his face.

“I see why she keeps you,” she said softly.

“I sincerely doubt that.”

Her lips curved in a humorless smile. “A kiss, Jacob, and then your lady is safe, and all yours again. As much as she will ever be, since you are vampire and she is Fae, and your relationship is doomed.”

“I’m not taking you as the world’s best expert on lasting relationships.”

“That is your last opportunity to treat me with insolence,” she promised. Cupping the back of his head, she pul ed him down to meet her mouth. Wet, heated, knowledgeable lips that parted his, her tongue sliding in to tease and seduce, keep him hard inside her. He felt dirty, wanted a shower more than anything except his lady. He’d never wanted to do permanent physical damage to a woman before, but this one might take him into that territory. Any one who harmed his lady, male or female, would get no mercy from him. Even so, Rhoswen’s earlier tears bugged him, as well as his momentary carelessness that had led to the lack of circulation in her hands.

Fucking Sir Galahad. That’s what Gideon had called him.

Breathing a heavy sigh into her mouth, he settled onto his elbows and imagined it as his lady’s mouth, that generous moist heat. Her hands stroking along his back, cupping his buttocks, keeping him inside her as he hardened anew so that he could satisfy her once again. Those jade eyes, so deep in color he’d get lost in them, knowing he’d do anything for her.

He wasn’t too far gone in the fantasy, though.

When one of Rhoswen’s hands began to travel down his chest, to his abdomen, he caught her wrist before she could touch the cross branded over his hip.

Opening his eyes, he stared into the queen’s face.

“No,” he said. “That’s not yours.”

The clamp of his hand on her wrist brought a trace of that earlier look, what he’d discovered about her that had taken them to the armory. But there was more, too. She was a Fae queen. She knew the power of sacred rites and symbols, and things you didn’t mess with. When he let her go, she moved her touch back to his biceps.

“Kiss me again.”

That was easy enough, with his eyes closed.

Leaning in, he pressed against her soft mouth, inhaling the scent that was different from his lady… or not. It
was
the same… only now he wasn’t kissing the Fae queen’s cool lips.

His gaze sprang open. The setting had changed once again. Lifting his head, he stared down into Lyssa’s face. They were in their guest chamber, just the two of them.

The queen who trusts no one…

He started up, but he took Lyssa with him, his arm banded around her waist. He was bal's-deep inside her wet cunt, and she trembled at the movement, framing his face with her deceptively small, elegant hands. “God.” He put his forehead to hers. “Are you all right, my lady?” And of course at the same moment, he was unashamedly plundering her mind, making sure. She’d been deeply rattled, but she’d held, and Arrdol had only touched her throat, her back, leaving that mocking bite on her shoulder.

“I'll extract his teeth and you can wear them as a personal trophy,” Jacob promised.

Her lips twisted in a small smile. “I prefer my emeralds and diamonds.” Studying his face, the smile, faint as it was, went away. “Where did you go?”

“To Hell. That’s what I call any place you aren’t. But I’m back with you now.”

“I’m all right,” she said softly, registering the quiver in his muscles, the wildness in him.

“Good. I’m not.” Withdrawing from her, he laid her down on the covers, asking her to wait there with a gentle squeeze of her arm, though he kept hold of her fingers until they reached the extension of their arms. Moving into the bath chamber, he found soap, a full cauldron of water and used both to scrub himself vigorously. To rinse, he poured the remaining contents of the cauldron over him, heedless of the floor. Tossing it aside, he came back to her dripping wet. Without preamble, he scooped her up off the bed, his arm around her back, palm on her buttock, and slid full force into her, so decidedly it pushed her against the headboard. She gasped, caught his biceps and arched into him.

All yours, my lady. This cock is all yours. Every part of me is yours.

I know.
Her gaze held his, and she stopped him in mid-thrust by digging her nails into him, a Mistress’s command.
Jacob, stop. Cease. Turn over.

He rolled, letting her straddle him. Laying her hand on his heart, staying there for a full measure of beats until he was steadier and more in need at once, she held his gaze as she slid her hand up, up, collaring his throat. Just as he had with Rhoswen, only this was his Mistress. Her touch there sent a surge of blood into his cock. As she felt it, her eyes darkened.

She began to rise and fall upon him, and he held still at that unspoken command, letting her set the pace, taking the pleasure she wished from him. He was her slave, to do with as she wished, and he wanted to immerse himself in that. Now he was trembling even harder, his hands flexing on her hips.

I don’t know what’s a dream and what’s real here
.

“This is,” she responded. “We are.”

He reared up then, tore the black lace from her body, shredded and got rid of the hated thing entirely. The clothes, Lyssa’s darkness against Rhoswen’s light, had been the Fae queen’s attempt to make her half sister look like a mere shadow of herself. In his mind, just the opposite was true.

Capturing her breasts in both hands, he suckled the nipples, until her cunt rippled on his cock and he sent her over. When she finally whispered a throaty,

“Come for me,” he gave her what he gave no other.

She could be nurturing, too, his lady. After their climax, she bade him lie still, and placed her mouth on him, tenderly sucking and laving his nipples, her sweet tongue soothing the ache there. Then, despite his halfhearted murmur of protest, she made her way down his body, licking and nipping, light kisses, and put her mouth full over him. As a vampire, he had a short recovery time, so he wasn’t at all surprised to feel his cock rise in her mouth. But while she liked keeping him aroused and wanting her, that wasn’t her intent this time. She was reasserting her claim, no different from any other primal creature, marking him with her mouth and touch. And it aroused him incredibly, watching her do it, knowing the purpose.

When she’d satisfied herself at last, she let out a small sigh and then curled between his splayed thighs, her head on his lower abdomen, lips nearly grazing his throbbing cock. Her fingertips traced the cross she’d branded into his flesh.

They hadn’t spoken of any of it. Not right now. To help her deal with what had happened with Arrdol, he’d given her the control and climax she needed, the comfort of his surrender. She’d given him all of this to help with Rhoswen. Though he felt it festering in her mind as it was in his.

“What is this Hunt we’re supposed to attend?” She tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes lingering on the terrain between, showing how pleasing she found it. It made his cock harden further under the press of her body. The wanting of her never stopped.

“And I hope it never will . I couldn’t bear it.” Her mouth quirked. “To handle the loss of your affections, I expect I’d have to kill you. Painfully and slowly.”

“There’s the gentle queen I know and love. I’d expect and deserve nothing less,” he assured her.

She tilted her head to nuzzle his palm and bite, not so gently, winning a flicker from his eyes, a tightening of his hand in her hair, two predators in lazy love play. “So tell me about this Hunt, before I have to resort to torture.”

“Torture is a tempting weapon in your hands, my lady.” He gave a muffled curse as she scraped her nails across one still tender nipple. But he didn’t stop her, didn’t close his hand on her wrist. “You keep this up, I'll never tell you anything, just coax you underneath me”—he unfurled a very graphic image in his mind—“spread your legs and…”

“The Hunt,” she declared, flexing her nails with ominous intent over the other nipple.

He relented with a tight smile. “Once a year, on Samhain, the Seelie court mounts up and rides through the mortal world at night. Since the Fae are descended from Danu, an earth goddess, their intention is to bless the crops and woods, to ensure a good harvest and fair hunting season to help people make it through the winter. It’s an ancient, ancient tradition, my lady. The fact they still do it is… reassuring. It’s the entirety of the High Court, dressed in their finest, the steeds painted and draped in silks and bell's. Legend says if you see them that night, you shouldn’t stare, because you could be struck blind, or pul ed back into the Fae world in their wake, forever lost to the mortal world.

Or, even worse, you could incite their anger if you don’t offer the proper respect as they pass, since the Fae have capricious tempers.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” she said.

“Hmm. Knowing you have half-Fae blood has explained a lot to me about
your
temperament, my lady.”

“If I didn’t have an annoying and insolent Irishman for a servant, I would be sweet and fair-tempered every day.”

“Should we cal Thomas back from his peaceful cell in Heaven and ask him about that?” Chuckling, he pul ed her up his body. She wrestled with him, but she didn’t put up too much of a fight, her gaze softening when he rolled them over so he was back between her legs. The minor angles and shifts to come together were almost instinctual now, following the desire to be joined. She bit her lip as he pushed in, flexed his thigh muscles to make her feel his demand, the thickness. In the semidarkness, her jade eyes glowed.

“As a boy,” he continued in a husky voice, “I dreamed of seeing the Hunt, based on the stories my mother told me. Later, Gideon made them even more vivid, battles with other Fae and galloping charges through the woods, the Wild Hunt going to collect dead souls. A lot of magic happens on that night. Should you see a white hart, you’re supposed to try to hunt it down, because if you strike the creature through the heart, it will turn into a princess of such beauty, it will make a man weep. And she will love that huntsman for the rest of his life, being his loving, sweet, gracious, faithful and obedient mate.”

“That’s a lot of adjectives for a teenage boy to string together.”

Jacob grinned. “We liked that story. We were too young to know that a sweet and gracious female, let alone an obedient one, was indeed something only found in a fairy tale.”

“Whereas
arrogant
and
male
go together so well for certain individuals, they might as well be the same word.” Lyssa traced his lips with her fingers, her own parting as he closed the distance between them, pressed in for the kiss with her fingers still on his mouth. The way he smiled against her, she knew he didn’t disagree. Or maybe it was the fact he no longer cared, his big male body strong and ready, his mind impatient to bring her pleasure again.