His Captive Mortal (12 page)

If only they had a riding crop, she would ask him to re-enact her dream.

She climbed over him, speaking softly so he wouldn’t startle. “Charrrleeee. Wake up, vampire. I have a surprise for you.”

Like before, his hands moved before his eyes had opened, but they gripped her arms without force, pulling her down on top of him. The bulge of his cock nudged her through the covers and she sought it with her core, rubbing her mound over it.

He cupped her ass and his eyes widened in surprise, as if he had just realized the state of her undress. Pushing her back up to straddle him, he surveyed her, fully awake now, his fangs lengthening. “Let me see you,” he said, his voice thick.

She thrust her breasts into the air, showing off the black corset, which fit perfectly.

“Mmm, you look good enough to eat,” he said.

She stifled a shiver, trying not to take him literally.

“Stand up, let me see the rest of you.”

She rose, giving him the full view of her freshly groomed sex and the black thigh-high stockings.

“Turn around.”

She turned around, her heart speeding up. “What do you think?” she asked, looking over her shoulder in what she hoped was a seductive pose.

He pushed himself up to sit, resting his back against the headboard. “I think you have five seconds to lay yourself across my lap.”

Butterflies took flight in her belly. “What did I do?”

He gave one sharp shake of his head. “I don’t need an excuse to spank. If I decide you need a spanking, you get a spanking. Now lie over my lap.”

She wanted to argue. His logic didn’t make sense, after all, but she wanted to see where this would go. Maybe it was a result of the dream, in which he’d whipped her for no reason and she’d seemed to love it. She knelt beside him and draped herself across his lap, liquid already beginning to seep from her pussy.

He ran a cool hand across her cheeks in a caress that somehow made her feel beautiful. As if in affirmation of her impression, he remarked, “A perfect ass.” And with that declaration, he began to spank hard and fast, like he had that first night when she’d tried to stab him with a wooden stake.

She wriggled. “Ow...ooh.” She wanted to be turned on by it—like she’d been in her dream—except it hurt too much for her to feel anything but pain. “Ow. Hey!”

“Quiet, little mortal.”

She struggled to keep her sound effects to herself, though why she tried so hard to please and obey him confused her. At what point had she given in? But she couldn’t think when he was slapping her at a rhythm faster than “Uptown Funk”. She gripped the bedspread and kicked her legs, clamping down on her back teeth to keep from crying out. Pain overtook all her senses and she had just started to become angry when he stopped, as abruptly as he’d started.

Before she could draw another breath, he had pulled her onto her back beside him and covered her body with his own, kissing her with a passion that made her stomach drop. Everything he’d stirred up with the spanking—embarrassment, anger, lust, tears—came pouring out in her response to his kiss. She met his desire with her own, yanking his head down, arching her pelvis against his, writhing beneath him. She wanted him to take her in every sense of the word, but he broke away, pulling back with a wicked smile. “Lusty wench, aren’t you?”

“Wench?” she demanded, wrapping a fist in his shirt and attempting to pull him back down. “Which century do you think you’re in?”

He ignored her attempts to tug him, as well as her question. “There should be a few more items in the box. Go fetch them.”

Her belly somersaulted. She’d purposely ignored the remaining two items in the box. One appeared to be some sort of stainless steel sex toy, and the other was lubricant. Still, his command propelled her into action. She crawled off the bed, her ass throbbing and hot from the spanking. As she walked to the box, she began to realize the appeal of spanking. She hadn’t enjoyed the delivery, but she loved the after-effects. She felt warm and relaxed, as if she’d just orgasmed, and the burning only seemed to ignite a fire in her core, her pussy swollen between her legs. Not only that, but she enjoyed how much she felt wholly his. As if by marking her this way, Charlie had claimed his rights over her.

She found the lube and the toy and brought them to him. He sat on the edge of the bed, and he yanked her in for another hard kiss before he bent her back over his knee, her feet still touching the floor, but her torso folded over the bed and his lap.

“Do you know what this is, Sasha?”

“Not exactly,” she said in a small voice.

“Reach back and pull your cheeks apart for me,” he ordered.

She did not really want that metal thing used on her, did she? She thought about refusing, but realized she no longer wanted to play that game with him. She did as he instructed, tentatively grasping her cheeks and spreading them. Something cold landed on her anus and she flinched. The lube. She tensed, realizing exactly where the toy would be going. Sure enough, the cool bulbous tip of the toy pressed at her back entrance.

She squeezed her eyes closed and pressed her lips together. “No,” she whimpered, although she already knew she’d given her consent by lying still across his lap, waiting for it. He pressed it forward and it stretched her anus. “No...I can’t,” she protested.

“Shh. You can. You will do it because I want you to.”

He was right. She wondered what that meant about her. How had he taken control of her so easily? Wasn’t she fighting him tooth and nail just a day or two ago? And what had changed her mind? Hot sex?

Probably.

Decidedly. It was worth abasing herself for the rewards she knew he would bring her.

The plug stretched her even wider and she made a screaming noise in her throat, although she kept her lips pressed together. And then it was in. Once seated, the plug did not hurt, just gave her a curious “full” feeling and created an urgency, like she had to orgasm. Or get fucked really, really hard.

“Sasha,” he said, nearly dizzy at the sight she made. He lifted her and stood her between his knees, cupping her hot cheeks. “You did so well. Turn around so I can look at you.”

She turned around. He wasn’t sure how he’d won her obedience, and he wasn’t stupid enough to think the game was over, but she certainly had given him this round.

His cock ached, a hot throbbing that only made his blood hunger worse. She looked incredible, the black corset and stockings framing her shapely ass, the stainless steel plug and raw cheeks symbols of her submission to him.

“Beautiful.” He turned her back around and pulled her mouth down to take her lips in a bruising kiss.

Her face flushed a healthy pink, eyes glassy and wild.

“You could not possibly please me more,” he praised. He knew she wanted release, but he intended to drag out her sexual frustration. “Now, I want you to make me dinner...” he patted her ass and twiddled the plug between her cheeks, “...dressed like that.”

She moaned in protest and he gave the plug a shove, causing her to gasp and her eyes to pop.

Grasping her nipples, he tugged her down until she had bent at the waist and her face was level with his. “The proper answer is Yes, master.”

She started to roll her eyes, but he shoved the plug in again and she fell against him, catching herself on his shoulders with her hands.

“Yes, master,” he prompted.

“Yes, master.”

He gave her a wide smile and stood. “Come on, slave,” he said, patting her bottom and leading her to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and found she had already made a salad. “Little fairy, you were such a good girl,” he exclaimed. “You will be rewarded for this.”

“I get to see your place, now, right?” she reminded him.

He smiled. “Yes. I’m going to spread you out on my bed and fuck you all night until you scream for mercy.”

A flicker of fear crossed her face, so he winked. He saw sadness in her expression and realized she was thinking about the curse.

“It’s all right,” he assured her. “I’ve been fucking without satisfaction for one hundred years. It hasn’t stopped me yet.”

She gave him a wistful smile.

Her caring lanced his chest. What had he done to deserve such sympathy?

“Set the table, Sasha,” he directed, pulling out a few chicken breasts and placing them in a baking dish with pesto spread on top and slices of lemon beneath. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Sasha, looking more erotic than anything he’d ever seen as she took small, shuffling steps, the heel of the plug shining between her cheeks.

“Come here,” he said, when he’d put the chicken in the oven to broil.

She came immediately.

He sat in a chair and pulled her onto his knee, keeping one hand on the plug so he could manipulate it within her. “Have you studied today?”

“Not the books, but I practiced at work.”

He squeezed her breast, pushing it up until the nipple crested the top of the corset and peeped out. He drew it into his mouth and sucked, pushing the plug in and out of her at the same time.

She moaned, a desperate, wanton sound.

“Not yet, little one,” he murmured.

“You’re killing me,” she complained.

“Good,” he said, with satisfaction. “Now show me what you learned today.”

She sat back and looked at him with a critical eye. “You don’t have one.”

“What?”

“An aura. I was messing with people’s energetic fields today. Cleaning them up, that sort of thing. I think I may have learned how a curse works.”

He stopped teasing her nipple, looking up with interest. “How?”

“Well, I saw two girls arguing and one of them sent a dagger-like shape of energy at the other one. It lodged right in her heart and stayed there, and the victim cried for a long time, actually rubbing the spot where I saw the invisible dagger go in. I don’t think this other child meant to cause her any harm, but I’m thinking someone like Anka, who understood how energy works, intentionally sends it in what we think of as a curse.”

He lifted her to stand and looked down at his lap. “Do you see any daggers? Or...I don’t know, corks?”

She gazed in the direction of his cock for a long time. “Well, I’ve never looked at the energy of a cock before. But yeah, I think I do see something.”

She knelt before him and pulled his cock out of his boxers, gripping the base and holding her fingers like pincers at the tip. Sasha made a pulling motion, as if trying to pull out a thread or sliver and repeated it several times.

A sharp pain stabbed through his cock near in the direction of the head.

“I can’t budge it,” she said, looking up at him grimly. “Maybe you have to do it. Or you have to sever your bond to her first or something.”

He snarled and stood up, shoving his cock back in his boxers and stalking to the bedroom to get dressed.

Sasha stood in the doorway looking uncertain. “Should I get dressed, too?’

A pang contracted in his unbeating heart. It was odd to consider anyone’s feelings but his own, but seeing how he’d affected Sasha pulled him out of his snit. He closed his eyes and exhaled. “No,” he said, trying to recover the mood. “I need my slave girl ready and accessible to me at all times. And I will require you to attempt to extract the curse with your mouth and tongue later, as well.”

She smiled, but her gaze still appeared worried.

“Come here,” he said, opening his arms. “I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice.

The oven timer went off, saving him from trying to express any of the odd feelings banging around in his chest. He patted her delectable bottom. “Let’s eat.”

Sitting down with the plug in her ass sent rivulets of heat pulsing through her body. Discomfort, need, desire all jumbled together. Charlie served the dinner, surprising her with his modern-man ease in the kitchen and with their roles. Odd for a nineteenth century man, but she was growing used to his unpredictability.

She wolfed down her food, eager to move on to other matters. When she laid down her fork, she saw he had already finished as well. She jumped to her feet and collected their plates, washing them in the sink as her anus contracted around the foreign object in her ass.

“I can smell your arousal,” Charlie murmured in her ear, appearing directly behind her.

Her pussy clenched, wanting more of his attention.

He wrapped his arms around her from behind and her stomach dropped as a terrible whooshing sensation yanked her back. She felt every atom of her body split apart and become whole again and found they stood in totally different surroundings.

Charlie’s bedroom looked much like the boudoir from her dream. Rich fabrics in silk and velvet draped the walls and covered the bed. The furniture appeared to be antique—great pieces of beautiful wood carved with intricate details. The colors were burgundy, red, and gold.

“On your knees, slave,” he ordered.

Excitement surged in her lower belly. She knelt at his feet, reaching for the button on his jeans.

He made a censuring sound. “Did you ask permission?”

“Please, master, may I suck your cock?”

He smiled magnanimously. “Yes you may.”

She opened his jeans and allowed his engorged cock to spring free. Before she could take it, he gripped it in his fist and used it to slap her face, first one side, then the other. As always with the vampire, the degradation of it raised her hackles, but then, that’s why he did it. She sensed the test in his actions and remembered how sexually satisfying surrendering to him could be. She closed her eyes and held out her tongue so his cock swiped across it as he dick-whipped her face.

“Mmm, good slave,” he murmured, gripping the back of her head and holding her in place. “Open wider.”

She opened her jaw and he pushed into her mouth, filling her small cavity beyond capacity, pulling out just when she thought she would gag. He moved in and out, controlling the movement, fucking her face. The vulnerability of the position did not escape her—one thrust too deep and he could cut off her airway, stuff his cock in the back of her throat and strangle her with it. Her basic survival instinct screamed at her to pull away, free herself from the humbling position, and yet for some inexplicable reason, she wanted to please him. She was learning to trust his torture always ended in reward.