His Captive Mortal (9 page)

She stilled her thrusting, but he insisted, pinching her clit, then thrusting her fingers and his inside her sopping channel, stretching her wide. “Oh, God,” she whispered. She needed to come. Desperately.

She whimpered with desire, wanting more than fingers inside her. Charlie seemed to know because he began to finger fuck her with several, or maybe all his fingers together as his opposite hand continued to spank the daylights out of her.

“Oh...God. Oh, Charlie, oh please...yes, yes, yes,” she babbled incoherently, almost weeping.

Her body jerked, her core spasming as the best orgasm she’d ever had rippled through her. “Ohh—oh!” she moaned, digging her fingernails into Charlie’s forearm, holding his fingers inside her as she contracted around them. “Oh my God,” she sobbed. “Oh, yes.”

When she finished, she literally collapsed over the table, her entire body going limp. Within seconds, Charlie had her up in his arms, carrying her to the sofa where he sat with her sprawled on his lap. He cradled her back, lowering her torso and lifting her shirt up over her breasts with his teeth.

Even completely spent, her pussy gave a squeeze of excitement. He flicked the nipple of one of her breasts and the pain shot as another signal of desire, straight to her molten core. Her shorts and panties still tangled around her thighs and he pulled them off, tossing them to the floor. While some part of her brain registered the vulnerability of lying completely naked and open to him while he sat totally clothed and in control, she felt sexier and more desirable than she’d ever felt in her life. The wolfish way he looked at her told her how enticing he found her and there was a possessiveness about the way he held her, surveying her body with unabashed appreciation.

Mine. He seemed to project the thought to her. She startled at her first moment of clairaudience. Or was it telepathy? Thought slid away again when he tugged her knee up to expose her pussy. Too relaxed, too exhausted from her orgasm, she wasn’t ready for more, but he slid his hand up her inner thigh until his fingers reached her opening. Inserting two fingers, he pushed them deep inside her and found what must be her g-spot.

She jerked in surprise at the intensity of the sensation. “No,” she moaned.

He raised an eyebrow, beginning to pump in and out, hitting the sweet spot every time. “No?”

“I can’t come again,” she protested. “It’s too soon. Please…”

“You can and you will. Do you need another spanking? I could use my belt this time.”

“No,” she said, arching into his hand, her head thrown back, her knees open wide to give him access. It was already too much—she thought she would explode from the sensations he created within her.

Her hands waved wildly, one of them smacking him in the head.

“Hold your ass,” he told her. “Squeeze it hard and remind yourself of the spanking you’ll get if you don’t come.”

She tucked her hands beneath her pelvis and cupped her own cheeks, hot from the spanking.

“That’s it,” he said, his fingers still working their terrible, wonderful magic. “Hold it up for me, Sasha. Offer your pussy to me.”

She lifted her pelvis in the air, arching even further, opening her most sensitive anatomy to his plunder.

“I want to see you come. I want to see your face this time.”

His words made her shatter. That he wanted to watch, cared so much about her release, sent her careening over the edge, her legs kicking out as her hips bucked. Wetness gushed from her and she realized she’d achieved the elusive female ejaculation.

“That’s it, love,” Charlie crooned, slowing his strokes as her muscles clenched and released over his fingers.

“Charlie,” she choked.

Her head swam as if she’d had too much to drink and she lost track of time, although it was probably no more than a few seconds. Charlie slipped his fingers out of her and licked one. “You taste so good,” he said.

“What are you doing to me?” she asked hoarsely, lifting her head to look at his face.

“I don’t know.”

She realized, with a start, he was being perfectly honest.

He lifted her belly up and planted a kiss on it, then cradled her in his arms, stroking her hair with a tenderness she hadn’t seen from him before.

Wanting to reciprocate, she pushed herself off his lap to kneel at his feet, reaching one hand to cup the rock-hard bulge in his pants as the other tried to work the button on his jeans.

“Don’t,” he said, stilling her hand. “You may never touch my cock without permission.”

She sat back, annoyed. Okay, he wanted to play dominant and submissive games with her. She rolled her eyes, but said, “Sir, may I please suck your cock?”

“No,” he said, his expression closing as he stood. He turned off the oven and pulled out the steaks and potatoes. “I’m going to take a shower,” he said, striding past her. “You finish the salad.”

She sat on her heels, rejected, staring after him.

What the hell was that about?

Chapter Five

Charlie watched, fascinated, as Sasha stretched and grew a ball of light between her palms.  It sometimes wobbled and flickered out, sometimes grew larger, but lost its density. The little fairy had learned how to channel power. They were sitting in the living room after eating the scallops and black rice he’d had waiting when she got home from work.

After the debacle of her asking to give him a blowjob, she had been cool and aloof through dinner, as if his refusal had hurt her feelings. He’d chewed on that fact the entire night, heading to The Black Cat after she went to bed at midnight.

Why would she object to receiving, but not giving? Wouldn’t that be most women’s dream? It certainly would have been Anka’s preference. But he probably shouldn’t judge women by Anka. She beat even vampires on self-centeredness.

As if Sasha sensed his thoughts (was she growing more clairsentient?) she looked up at him, and demanded, “Why wouldn’t you let me suck your cock last night?”

He grinned. “Because you don’t have the skill yet to please me.”

She threw the ball of light in her hand at him and it traveled faster than even his vampire senses could follow, striking his cheek with a searing pain.

He jerked. It burned as if she had tossed a ball of sunlight at him, frying his skin and sending his entire body into overdrive with the shock. His defensive instincts kicked in at once, his fangs slashing out, his vision going dim and tunnel-like as he leaped on her, tackling her to the floor, his fangs poised to tear out her throat.

She screeched a blood-curdling scream, beating her fists against his face and head. Some part of him must have remained rational, because he did not bite, just hovered above her as the scream went on and on. Eventually, the blackness in his vision lifted and the animal in him receded until he became fully aware of his surroundings.

He relaxed and smiled down at the terrified mortal, her fear calming him. He had her entire body covered with his and as he became aware of the feel of her soft curves and the sensations her struggles beneath him caused, his cock grew hard. He ground it against her. “Ah, here we are again, little fairy.”

“Get off of me,” she snapped, glaring at him. He sensed her heart pounding beneath his still one, her pulse moving frantically at her throat. Fear was like an aphrodisiac to vampires, the smell of it stirring his desire even more.

He caught the little fists still trying to pummel him and pinioned her wrists above her head. “You’re in for some serious punishment now, Sasha. You must never use magic against me,” he informed her firmly.

This time he saw it coming, but still could not dodge. The ball of light appeared out of nowhere and flew directly into his mouth.

He choked and recoiled in pain, the hot light burning the inside of his throat. He scrambled up to his knees and coughed until the ball came out. Dragging in a ragged breath, he coughed again and blood splattered the floor from his seared throat.

He drew another breath to keep from turning animalistic this time.

Sasha stared at the blood on the floor with a look of horror, covering her mouth with her hand. “I-I…”

He turned to her, grasping her shirt at the collar and renting it in half. She gave a shriek and stared at him, her eyes wide, a mixture of fear and arousal in her scent.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she asked, her words tumbling out one on top of the other.

He sliced her bra with a fang and hauled her to her feet.

She covered her breasts with one forearm, her face flushed, her chest heaving. “What are you doing?” she repeated, her voice no more than a whisper now.

He unbuttoned her shorts. “Punishing you,” he said, his voice raspy from the damage in his throat. He expected her to fight when he yanked off her shorts and panties, but she stood still, looking shocked.

“I really hurt you, didn’t I?” she whispered.

He didn’t answer, but when he took off his belt, she began to back quickly away, throwing up her bubble of protection, even as she babbled, “Okay, just calm down.”

“It’s for your wrists,” he explained. “Remove your bubble and hold them out for me.”

She stood still, staring at him with her wide eyes. Her gaze traveled to his cheekbone, where the first ball of light had struck. He probably had an angry mark by now, perhaps even blisters.

The bubble flickered and dissolved.

“Thank you. Now hold out your wrists.”

She looked at him uncertainly.

He waited for her surrender, lifting only an eyebrow to convince her.

She drew a breath and held out her hands, dropping her eyes submissively.

His cock twitched.

He tugged her to the doorway of her bedroom where he tossed the end of his belt over the top of the door, pulling on it until she lifted up on her toes, then shutting the door to trap the belt so she could not pull her wrists down.

“You are on clothing restriction until you can show a little respect,” he informed her.

She twisted around, hanging her weight on the belt in an attempt to pull it free.

“Take it easy there or you’ll hurt yourself,” he said. He found the box with the leather flogger and pulled it out.

She eyed it nervously, twisting her backside away from him as he advanced.

He’d tried it out on himself the night before and had discovered, as he suspected, it delivered a surface sting without imparting much damage.

“Turn around,” he commanded.

Her jaw tightened and she didn’t move.

He flogged her breasts in a rapid figure-eight swing, the leather tassels punishing first one peak, then the other.

She squealed, jerking in surprise and turning her head to the side.

“Turn around,” he repeated.

This time she spun around, dancing on her tiptoes.

He went to work on her lovely ass, using the same motion to catch first one side, then the other. He loved the sound of the suede striking her flesh, the way her twin moons bounced in response to each blow. He whipped until her ass took on a rosy glow, then he moved down and whipped the backs of her thighs. When he swung it between her legs, she shrieked, crossing them and spinning from her wrists.

“Very naughty,” he scolded. “You don’t get to cover any part from me when you are being punished. I’m going to find something to help you remember.” He brought the handle of the flogger to her mouth. “Hold this,” he instructed.

She glared at him, but opened her teeth and took it.

He flicked her nipple with his index finger. “Good girl.”

Walking to the kitchen, he pulled out the ginger root and a knife and peeled a long section, carving a finger-shaped length with a bulbous end. He brought it back, watching her look at it in confusion, the flogger still clenched dutifully between her jaws.

“Wha ib at?” she attempted to ask.

He sauntered behind her. “Arch your back.”

She hesitated for a moment, but to his delight, she did tilt her pelvis, lifting her ass toward him.

He pulled her cheeks apart. She squealed and tried to dance away, but he gave her ass a sharp slap. “Hold still or I will make your punishment far worse,” he warned.

She whimpered, but stopped moving. Her legs trembled as he parted her cheeks once more. He brought the tip of the ginger plug to her anus and she flinched again, trying to squeeze her cheeks together against the intrusion. He slapped her rosy ass once more. “Open for it,” he commanded hoarsely.

She held still, mewling as he embedded the tortuous root. 

He pushed it in and out while she squeaked. It would take a few minutes before the heat of the ginger would begin to burn her anus and warm her entire pelvic region. He walked around to the front of her and took the flogger from her mouth. “Thank you,” he said.

Her eyes pleaded with him for mercy, but he also saw concern as she glanced at his burn, then at the corner of his mouth. “Are you bleeding?” she asked in a small voice.

He swiped at his mouth and found a little blood from his coughing. He gave his head a quick shake. Showing weakness wasn’t his thing, even if it did win her remorse. “It’s nothing,” he assured her. He opened the door and lowered her wrists a bit. “Stand with your legs wide apart,” he ordered.

She obeyed. He almost missed her more rebellious self. Almost. But the submissive Sasha was sweet enough to eat. He stepped behind her and licked from the two dimples above her ass to the vein at her throat, his tongue dragging over her smooth skin, the taste of her intoxicating.

She began to waggle her ass, her chest heaving with quickened breath. “Erm...ooh...ah.”

“Has the burn begun to set in, little fairy?”

She bit her lip. “Ow. Oh. Take it out, Charlie,” she said, swaying her hips to and fro. “Please?”

“Keep those legs apart,” he ordered, slapping the flogger up between her legs to punish her little pussy.

“Ack!” She jerked, but kept her legs open.

He struck again and again, going lightly, judging by her noises what was too much and too little until she was moaning, her breath coming in sobs. He moved around to the front of her, and continued his assault on her sex from that direction, interspersing the slaps with blows to her peach-tipped breasts.