“Turn around,” she ordered. “Put your hands on your head, fingers laced. You’ll stand without a wall. If you fall to a knee, I’ll make it worse, twice the number of strikes.”
“You need to mark him with your blood, Anwyn,” Daegan interjected, his voice neutral. “Otherwise the strikes will heal. They want whatever you do to leave a permanent scar.”
That was bad enough, but when Gideon obeyed her, turning away, Anwyn’s gaze fell on those old lash marks, the ones that had been left by one of the vampires who’d captured him. The vamp had tortured him until he bit into the wood of the beam he’d been restrained against and his nose had bled. She knew, because she’d seen the images when he came out of nightmares.
The thoughts were too strong to mask from her servant. His voice came into her head, steady.
When you stripe me, they’ll be gone. The scars will belong to you, like the rest of me.
Overcome, she shot a glance back at Daegan, her gaze full of helpless fury. He held her gaze, understanding but implacable.
It proves your strength to them. And don’t you dare ask his permission to do it. You know the kind of Mistress you are.
That they need me to be?
Her lip curled.
No. That he needs you to be. He’s an untamed tiger,
cher
. You know it. No matter your distaste, you know he’s responding to this. He requires a firm hand to balance the gentle. Break him down to build him up. You’ve done it before.
No one mattered this much before.
So do it better than you’ve ever done it before.
Anwyn tossed her head in defiant answer, but turned her burning gaze back to Gideon. God, she wanted to hate herself for it, but she felt it as he’d known she would, the surge of that pleasurable power, looking at him waiting for her, the skintight outline of his ass the pants provided, every thigh muscle delineated.
Open the pants so they’ll drop lower on his hips. I don’t want him to take his hands from his head.
Giving orders to me,
cher
?
She closed her eyes at that silky, dangerous tone.
I’m angry. What if I am?
There are always consequences.
Fine.
She pushed back the flush of desire. The heat in front of and behind her could wrap her up in a passionate storm that would take her beyond the genuinely horrible nature of what she was doing.
Daegan moved past her, his fingertips grazing her ass, a promise, and then he circled in front of Gideon.
“He’s going to open your trousers, Gideon. That’s all.”
“He is your servant,
cher
. You owe him no explanations. He simply obeys.”
Daegan was in front of Gideon, and the two males’ gazes had met. She didn’t know what thoughts might exist in Daegan’s mind, and at the moment, she didn’t trust herself to be in Gideon’s, so she let whatever unspoken communication had just passed between them stay between them.
Daegan’s deft fingers slid across Gideon’s waist, to his hip, where the nearly invisible zipper rested between the overlapping seams. Daegan worked it down about six inches, did the same to the matching fastener on the other side, and the pants loosened, dropping to the rise of the ass, revealing that pleasurable curve of lower back. Daegan’s fingers trailed across his flesh, gripping the hips briefly before withdrawing.
Gideon stayed in place, quivering, giving her a beautiful display of bare male muscle from nape to buttock. Stepping forward now, she pushed two links of the chain running from his wrists into the clip at the back of the collar so his hands were forced to stay at his neck. He hadn’t anticipated that, but she ignored his reaction and stepped back, measuring out the proper range for the short whip’s strike. Daegan returned to her.
“When you’re done, we can use one of my knives to drain your blood over his wounds. It will burn, but if you’ve done your job, it will burn in a way that will keep him hard.”
Anwyn nodded. Gideon stood there, that faint tremble still happening, a reaction she recognized, because all the muscles in her lower abdomen drew tight. This meant so much to her; how could she let the Council use it? Make it into something so . . . despicable.
It’s still willing submission.
Gideon’s voice in her head, stroking her nerves.
We aren’t letting them take that away from us.
“Losing courage, honey?” He changed tactics, the taunt in his voice obvious. “Maybe Daegan should do it, since he’s not a girl.”
Whzzt pop.
She was well practiced with most types of whips. The strike slapped his shoulder where and as hard as she intended, the metal pieces leaving a tiny pattern of bites. Typically she built up a tolerance for pain with lighter strikes leading to heavier ones, but in this case, she went for first blood. Gideon drew in a breath, swearing through it. But she clearly felt the afterburn, the slow fire leaping to full flame in his groin.
“That’s Mistress to you, Gideon. You don’t call me ‘honey,’ ‘baby,’ ‘sweetheart’ or anything else without my permission. Ever. And you better clamp down on that swearing tongue of yours, or I’ll gag you with a bar of soap and a strap.”
It took hold of her, the Mistress she was and the vampire she’d become, that sense of absolute control, of connection to the male who was her servant, following the intuition she’d always had. She’d lost confidence in it these past couple of weeks, but now she wondered why. She didn’t need to ask him what he needed. She already knew it, with or without the mind reading.
She gave him some of the lighter stripes now, building sensation as she interspersed the harder strikes, this one crossing over the first, and crossing over the older ones, despite the hitch in her heart.
The scars will belong to you, like the rest of me.
Damn right. His muscles knotted, bunched, pure, raw male beauty, withstanding the pain with courage and savagery both. Two more stripes and his mind was in turmoil, caught between pain and the expected unreasoning anger, rising to the top along with that glorious mix of mindless lust that would sweep it all away.
When she reached eight bloody stripes, and got a nod from Daegan that it was enough, she sauntered around in front of him. Any trepidation she’d had disappeared at the rampaging size of her slave’s cock. She might like administering pain, but, for her at least, he liked taking it.
Daegan had taken a seat on the settee, within Gideon’s peripheral vision, and she saw the vampire had an aesthetic appreciation for it as well, though his gaze was stroking over her formfitting bodysuit, his desire obviously growing, the heat of it filling the room.
“Anwyn—” Gideon’s voice was hoarse.
“Mistress,” she corrected. “You fuck it up once more, I will truly gag you. You’ll wear it for the rest of the night. Eyes down.”
Even though she desperately loved the look in those sparking blue eyes, the confusion and rage, the lust and yearning need, she knew his concentration needed to be internal.
Sliding up against him, she threaded her arms behind him, pushed his loosened pants down farther, revealing his ass for Daegan’s pleasure as well as her own. Using her thighs, she smeared the pre-come gathered at the slit of his cock over the broad head, and heard Gideon’s breath catch, his broad chest rising and falling with the provocation and the throbbing strikes on his back. “I’m going to mark your ass the same way. Then I’ll put blood on those stripes, so you’ll always remember your Mistress’s touch with a whip, her way of getting you to pay attention.”
Gideon bent, mouth darting down to catch hers, an insolent lash of his tongue over her teeth. He caught one of her fangs, giving her another taste of his blood. She pushed him back, hard enough he fell. With his arms bound against his neck, he might have fallen, but she’d counted on Daegan’s speed.
He caught the male, lowered him to the floor, flipping him over on his stomach at her mental direction. Gideon grunted as the position mashed his engorged cock between the carpet and his belly. Before he could start struggling, Anwyn took the whip to his ass, enjoying the flex and shudder. It created a stimulating friction that had him dry-humping the floor despite himself. Daegan stayed crouched over him, his hand on the back of Gideon’s neck, fingers curving over his clasped hands.
Anwyn took a seat on Gideon’s thighs then, and offered her wrist to Daegan. With a nod, he drew his blade, cut her skin, and then held her forearm in his grip, turning it to drip along the first of the cuts. When Gideon made a strangled noise, she smelled the burning of the acid reaction. Her arm tensed.
Keep going,
cher
. It is what the Council wants to see. But more important, I think it is what you
both
want.
Daegan was as aroused as the two of them were. The Council couldn’t touch this, she realized. They couldn’t force what wasn’t already there.
She marked the other stripes, then did the same to those on his ass. Gideon’s upper body was sweaty with the pain, but she knew from his open mind that the greatest sense of discomfort was the hard bar of iron trapped beneath him. She leaned down, blew on the cuts like a gentle mother, but then licked the areas of unmarked skin between them. Turning her body around, she moved back until her knees were braced high on his shoulders, enjoying her lithe flexibility, and put her hand between his thighs. Pushing them as far apart as his pants around his knees would allow, she licked his testicles, catching the sac in her teeth, tugging lightly, before she moved her mouth elsewhere.
Gideon gave a strangled cry as she parted his buttocks and teased his rim with her mouth, playing with the nerve-rich entry point. When she sent a thought to Daegan, the vampire reached into the overnight bag she’d left in a chair outside of Gideon’s line of vision and gave her the other things she wanted. She manipulated her tongue in that sensitive area, making him buck and groan, a moment before she eased a tube inside, letting a flow of lubricant go down into that channel.
“No,” Gideon said emphatically.
“Gag him,” she said softly, and Daegan complied, taking a dildo from the bag shaped like a short, thick phallus. She expected the vampire would take visceral pleasure in forcing the cocklike object into Gideon’s mouth, stretching it and pushing the hard rubber to the back so it would tickle his throat, making him feel even more vulnerable.
She would get Gideon to let go, make him think of nothing tonight but pleasing her, whatever she commanded of him. She couldn’t get trapped in sentiment about his past life. This was their “now,” and he belonged to her.
Gideon tried to bite Daegan, cursed him fluently, but Daegan deftly caught his thumb in the corner of his mouth and shoved the dildo in, strapping it around his head to hold it fast. Then Anwyn took the well-lubricated phallus, one that was twice the size of what she’d put into him before, and slowly began to ease it in. It was smaller than Daegan, so she knew he could take it. Slow, ease, ease, ease, and she teased his balls with her fingertips, stroked the base of his cock, felt him tremble. A strangled, frantic curse against the gag, a sudden jerk, and she knew he hadn’t been able to hold back his climax. She used his mindless bucking to seat the dildo all the way in. Impossibly, it made her want him more, the unconscious way he pushed back, encouraging her to fuck him vigorously even as she seated it. Daegan’s eyes were fastened on the movement of the phallus, the heaving of Gideon’s flanks, telling her he wanted to be where that dildo was now. Not surprising to her, Gideon was imagining the same thing, hard as he was trying to banish that thought from his mind.
“There. Shhh . . .” As he came down, panting, his breath rasping around the gag, she soothed, running a hand down his tense back. “This is the way it needs to be, Gideon.”
Whatever happens tonight, I’ll have been there first. What they do won’t mean anything. It can’t touch you. You’re mine.
But they’d strip his pride, his dignity. It didn’t matter how she changed his perspective with the tool of lust; she knew the truth, and it made her deeply, terribly angry. They would rape him, violate him, punish him for having been arrogant enough to believe he could hunt vampires. For succeeding at it. She closed her hand into a fist on the small of his back. He would take it, because he loved her. And maybe because he didn’t think he deserved any better, because he was still punishing himself for never being enough, for being a failure when all he’d ever done was fight and protect the innocent and those he loved.
She found the idea intolerable. “Gideon, I want you to listen to me.” Changing tactics, she squatted at his head, yanked his chin so he was forced to look into her face, despite the humiliation of the gag stretching his mouth. His eyes were so tortured and angry, his climax still gripping him. It only fueled the fierceness of her voice. “If Laura were here today, and if she had the heart you say she did, she would tell you that you did your very, very best. Anything any woman could ever ask of the man who loved her. She would be so angry at you for holding on to this guilt, denying yourself love, life . . . value.”
His gaze steadied at her fervent conviction, and she was aware of Daegan’s regard as well.