The Vampire Queen's Servant (47 page)

Their guests left at a courteous
time for vampires, half past three in the morning. It had been a successful
event, all her formal intentions accomplished, including teaching her servant
another vital aspect of the role he was expected to play. He'd exceeded her
expectations. Indeed, probably everyone's. Brian had learned a good deal as
well. She suspected Debra would be reaping the benefits of that again before
the pull of dawn claimed him. He was a handsome boy who tended to approach a
new experience with thorough intensity.

So why did she stand here in her
bedchamber, feeling empty? She was in the lower one, but she'd left the
passageway to it open. She hadn't commanded Jacob to come to her, though.

When she last saw him, he'd been
finishing up with the catering group. As she stood before the fire warming her
hands, turning them over and over, watching the firelight play on her palms,
her knuckles, she occasionally reached out with her mind to locate him.

In the kitchen and dining room,
helping with cleanup. Then out back, giving Bran and his pack scraps. The smile
that curved her lips felt like a stretched wound as he helped the all-female
catering staff get the crates of supplies back to their van. He had such an
easy way with women. She was sure he was unintentionally giving them all sorts
of fantasies. Any one of them would take him to her bed with little
encouragement. Probably two or three at once. She should probably push him that
way, allow him to release his frustration. Give him some time and space to get
his mind around what had happened tonight.

She tried to avoid dipping into
anything more than the surface layers of his mind. But as she watched the women
make any excuse to brush against him, touch his hands when they transferred the
crates, she felt his politeness coupled with a complete absence of interest.
Nothing toward them. But as she risked it, went deeper, she found there was
something explosive below the nothing. It scalded her body, warming it even
more than the aura of the flame flickering shadows over her hands.

The force of restless, dark
desire and the simmering lust had only one objective. Her. With each moment he
drew closer to finishing his tasks for the evening, it was building. The
anticipation of it expanded proportionately in herself.

She thought of him taking Seanna
and bringing Debra to climax, meeting the challenge before him with an erotic
creativity she'd not realized he had. Laying Debra out on the table as he held
Seanna from behind, his pale body against Seanna's dark skin, his fingers wet
from Debra's cunt as he took them to his lips, tasted… During all of it, he had
rarely let his eyes leave his Mistress's face.

She shuddered, making herself
stay by the fire. Waiting to see what he would do with all that lust mixed with
anger. Not once when buried in either woman had that singular focus on her
wavered. He'd climaxed with her image firmly before him, and she knew it had
been to prove something to her. Something that rose up in her now, tearing at
her with savage claws, telling her there was no way in hell she would push him
toward another woman's arms. Not now. Maybe not ever.

She tried but couldn't brush it
off as the obsession of a vampire with her new servant. She'd never experienced
this feeling with one before. Not in all her long life. Not even with Rex. He'd
called her Mistress…

The grip of that remarkable
realization paralyzed her as she felt him enter the bedroom above. He'd see
that hazy outline to this chamber, beckoning him closer to her.

She closed her eyes, a soft gasp
of response leaving her as he didn't hesitate, didn't even pause to wonder if
he needed permission. Linked with his mind now as if she was the one unable to
break the link, she knew he didn't give a damn. All that easy courtesy had
vanished, and he had one intent, growing with every stride down the illusory
steps.

She didn't turn from the fire, a
straight, indifferent pose. Even though his approach was swift, even though she
felt his intention as hard as an urgent cock in her hand, she was not entirely
prepared for the way he came up behind her. His hands closed on her shoulders,
slid down and increased the tension of his hold so her arms were drawn back.
Her fingertips grazed his thighs, planted on either side of her, the hardness
of his cock pressed against her hips. She sought a grip in the soft stuff of
his slacks as he pulled her back against him and released one of her hands to
grip her hair, tilt her head and claim .her lips.

Keep your hands on my legs.

She sucked in a trembling breath
as he savaged her mind with the command the way he was savaging her mouth. He
knew she didn't have to obey, that he didn't have the strength to make her
obey. And yet… she sensed the certainty in his mind that he could seduce her to
his will and would, by God.

She thought of those long,
clever fingers deep in Debra's pussy, her cries as she writhed. Brian had
seized her throat, bending down to suckle her breasts, overwhelmed by the
tableau such that he had to be a part of it. Jacob had taken them all to the edge
of the cliff. But all along, his eyes had promised she was the only one he
intended to take over it with him.

She couldn't keep up, his teeth
biting her lips, mouth sucking the air out of hers, his tongue stroking and
caressing it as deeply as he would caress her cunt. When his hand closed over
her throat, a growl broke from her lips, vibrated against his. His other hand
left hers on his thigh and pushed under the waistband of her skirt. Seizing a
handful of her panties in the front, he rubbed the silky fabric against her
crotch, making her writhe as the back dug deeper into her cleft, bringing her
up to her toes. She wanted…

Show me how he fucked you.
The way you liked it best.

The question was so shockingly
intimate she didn't think to block the image that flashed through her mind
until it was too late.

The answer evoked a specific
memory. Rex, pushing her down on her hands and knees before the fire. He'd
massaged her with oil, leaving no expanse of skin uncovered until she'd gleamed
in the firelight like a creature of water. He'd even run it through her hair,
slicking it down on her skull. Holding a hand on her neck to press her cheek to
the rug, he'd slid into her, teased her until her hands stretched out, tugging
at the long hairs of the carpet. Her whole body quivered with every stroke,
aching for release. He told her he loved her that night, a break in his voice.
His hold had been ruthless, his touch gentle. He'd shattered her with his
merciless tenderness.

Jacob stilled, his breath on her
temple. His fingers rested on her mound still, making soft strokes over her
clit, which increased the bittersweet yearning. As he nuzzled her hair, she saw
him struggling to get his mind around the revelation. "You did love
him."

"Yes. I did. Very much.
Despite all the wisdom of the world that told me I was a fool for it." She
pressed her temple to his upper arm as his hand continued to hold her throat.
She took comfort in that touch, his hair brushing her eyelashes as she closed
her eyes. "You can love someone whose cruelty you could not bear
otherwise," she murmured. "Every time you leave, you think you won't
want back into hell, yet there's something about those fires you miss. As if
there was a secret to them you never truly understood. But you wanted to
understand it, enough to burn for the comprehension."

His hand lifted and slipped
inside the panties to move down, making her feel every millimeter slide of his
fingertips as he reached the clean soft skin of her mound, her clit hood and
even lower, taking possession of her labia, positioning his knuckles on either
side of the clit, applying a knowledgeable pressure that made her moan quietly.

I understand, my lady.
Jesus, but you're teaching me to understand.

It was an unkind observation,
but one she couldn't argue. Nor could she move away, not when his angry
thoughts were seductive murmured offerings in her mind, matching his movements
without. He unfastened the skirt, let it fall to her ankles, then nudged her
arm up to remove the oversized silk poet's shirt she'd worn. She'd removed the
sash earlier. When he'd come into the room, she'd seen in his mind his reaction
to her standing before the fire, the shadow of her curves and nipples outlined
through the fabric. It had goaded his cock, but not as much as her haughty and
remote posture had.

This was his shirt.

Yes. Tara and Richard knew
it. It sent a message.

"It helped you assume his
mantle. Made them feel a part of him was still in the room, reinforcing your
authority."

"Very good. Yes."

He stripped off the shirt,
deliberately balled it up and sent it across the room. She stayed motionless,
turned away from him. She listened to the sounds of him removing his own
clothes, unzipping the slacks, kicking it all away from him. His knee nudged
the seam of her thighs, his arm sliding around her waist. With relentless
pressure, he took her down to her knees on the rug before the fire, his body
hard and strong and now bare behind her, the heat of his cock pressing against
her left buttock. He spread kisses on her neck and shoulders like flower petals
drifting over her skin. Romantic, stirring. Fantastical. He eased her back up
so she was sitting on her heels. Lifting her hair, he unpinned it, then cupped
it in his hands, letting it spill down her back again and again. Dropping her
head back, she enjoyed his desire to stroke her hair, feel it pour between his
fingers. She closed her eyes, filled with pleasure at the joy he was taking in
it, even as his body moved against her, reminding her how empty it was between
her legs.

"Jacob…"

"Sshhh, my lady. You obey
my will now. You'll let me pleasure you at my own pace, surrender to my
desires. I have many desires when it comes to you."

I shouldn't do this. You'll
be like a dog I've allowed to misbehave. I'll have to be that much more stern
tomorrow to reestablish my authority.

"You relish that, my lady.
You like giving me punishment. Your pleasure brings me pleasure. But let me
show you what it is to accept my desire for now."

How could she resist him, when
he'd done so many things to rouse her tonight? He'd performed to perfection on
every level. When he'd defied her, he'd twisted the consequences of his actions
with such delectable proficiency she knew Tara, Richard and Brian would not
soon forget the evening, and would look forward to the next invitation. They
would spread the word, talk about Lady Lyssa's new servant, enhance the
impression that she'd not lost an ounce of her allure or power.

But now, despite the fact she'd
taken him from fury to humiliation to climax, here he was, seducing her with a
tender form of dominance she'd never experienced before. She had the disturbing
thought she might truly be helpless to him at the moment.

He kissed his way down her
spine, slowly pushing her until she dipped forward on her hands again. He
spread kisses over her buttocks, his thumb probing her between, the heated
entrance that unleashed so many powerful longings.

"Down on your elbows, my
lady. I want to see your perfect ass in the air, your thighs spread and your
pussy glistening, hungry for my cock."

He wound his hand in her hair,
that clever bondage she would only be able to resist if she overcame vanity,
and he knew her too well. She complied, gracefully spreading herself,
butterflies quivering in her stomach remarkably at the tension on her hair like
a restraint. She knew she was in no physical danger from him. But everything
deep within was shaking as if he were threatening the very heart of who she
was. All the guards she usually posted to protect her were gone. Her thoughts
literally suspended as the tip of him found her and slowly, slowly eased in.
Deeper, deeper, and she curved up, meeting him, a cry emerging from her lips as
he filled her completely, down into places empty for so long she'd forgotten
how vast and dark they could be. Which made it all the more amazing that he
filled them. Tightly.

Instead of pinning her the way
Rex had done, he dropped over her, his body covering her, hands placed on the
outside of her elbows, his hard upper body pressed all along her back and hips,
thighs tucked in behind her buttocks. It kept him seated so his testicles
pressed against her clit. His breath was on her neck at the top point of her
spine. Tumbling her hair over her left shoulder, he tangled it with her
fingers, drawing her down lower, shortening the binding he'd made.

He touched his lips to the point
of her neck. "You may have the greater strength, my lady."

Now he kissed her shoulder.

"The greater wisdom."

Back to the neck, so that her
breath clogged in her throat.

"But tonight you've provoked
my
will, such that you'll be overpowered by it. I'll bring you such
pleasure you'll be
my
willing slave."

He'd already accomplished that,
and he didn't know it. She would have begged him to move, but one thing she
knew from such a long life was never to rush something that felt so good.

Jacob
. She said his name softly in her mind. He began to move.