Dazzle The Complete Unabridged Trilogy (41 page)

Wordlessly he took her hands, and before she knew what he was doing, he pressed her wrists together and wound one
of the scarves swiftly around them several times in a tight figure of eight. His fingers nimbly knotted the ends.

She could only stare at her tied hands in frozen shock. Then
she flicked a swift upward glance of apprehension at his face,
but what she saw was not comforting. His eyes flashed with
a bewilderingly sinister, merciless glint. With another swift
motion he looped the second scarf around her bound wrists and jerked her arms back as he secured them to the bedrail.
She shook in horror. Now she was completely helpless.

The entire procedure had taken him mere seconds.

The necklace around her throat made breathing difficult.
She began struggling furiously to twist her wrists free, but the
silk held. It was far too strong to tear.

A thousand fears flashed unbidden through her mind.

What was going on, she wondered, and why had he tied her
hands like a captive? What did he have in mind? Maybe he
liked to play these sorts of games, but she didn't. And what
if
. . .
what if this
wasn't
a game? What if he intended to really
hurt her?

Well, if he did, it was too late for her to struggle against it.

'Please,' she whimpered. 'D-don't do this to me. D-don't
hurt me.'

Her pleading received no reaction from him, which only
made everything seem all the more ominous.

'Oh, God.' The tears welled up in her eyes. What on earth
had she gotten herself into?

Before she could come to grips with the situation, he swung
himself up on the bed. She tensed and held her breath.

What was he going to do?

She felt herself growing red with anger, and she waited with
bated breath. Waited for an opportunity to somehow wrench herself loose and escape. He squatted over her, straddling her belly with his legs. Her eyes followed his fingers as they slowly
reached for her nipples. Then he squeezed the roseate nodules
between his fingernails.

She let out a shriek. The pain was razor sharp, agonizing as
fire. 'You bastard!' she screamed, writhing helplessly. Every
nerve in her body screeched with hatred. 'You fucking bas
tard, I'm going to kill you!'

His fingernails pinched again in reply, cutting off her tirade
with another wave of red-hot, excruciating pain.

'So I am a bastard, am I?' He grinned down at her.

She was flushed, breathing hard, and confused. 'Yes! I mean
no!'
She seemed to slump as the fight went out of her. 'Let me
go,' she whispered wearily. 'I'm not enjoying this.'

'Ah, but we have just begun.'

She shut her eyes and sighed.

'
There. That is much better.' He nodded, slid further
toward her feet, and fingered her groin.

Despite herself, she shivered and moaned as he massaged
her vulva with his hands. Then he spread her vagina with the
tips of two fingers, closely studying the exposed moist purple
clitoris. She moaned again as he suddenly stuck a finger up her anus while simultaneously stroking her moist labia.

'You are getting even wetter,' he marvelled softly. 'That is
not so bad, is it?'

She shook her head, her eyes glazed over with an odd look.
'Be gentle?' she pleaded in a tiny voice.

He slid himself higher toward her face, straddling her chest
with his knees. His huge phallus poked her nose and mouth.
She found herself grimacing. Then, with one hand, he grabbed
her behind the back of the head and savagely thrust his penis
toward her mouth.

Involuntarily she clamped her lips shut against it before he
could slide it into her mouth.

'Open up,' he commanded softly. 'I want you to eat me.'

She stared up at him, once again shaking her head.

He shifted slightly, making room to reach her nipples. Even
as she felt his fingers tightening on them, she realized she must
do as she was told. Swiftly she opened her mouth wide. For
an instant her fear overwhelmed her; then he shoved himself
deep inside her. For one long, terrible moment she felt her
throat muscles quivering, and she thought she would choke.
Her teeth tightened instinctively against the intrusion, and she
heard his sharp yell.

'Bitch!' he hissed. 'Don't use your teeth!'

She immediately opened her jaw wider, and he slid partially
out again, then thrust back inside, and his penis seemed to
come alive within her.

He thrust his hips rhythmically against her face, using her
throat mercilessly. She shuddered, half from fear and half
from indulging in this forbidden pleasure. Schmarya had
buried his face in her mound, licking her, but she had never
taken a man in her mouth before.

It seemed to last forever. She lost all sense of where she
was, what part of her body he was using. She became a forest
of tingling nerves, and everywhere he touched her, she shiv
ered and trembled.

Her initial anger fading, she submitted to him, sucking eag
erly, her mouth making soft gurgling noises. As his thrusts
quickened, she wondered if she felt violated
...
or ecstatic?
Could it be both?

And his penis was doing the impossible, growing thicker,
harder, longer, pressing savagely into her mouth and out
again.

Finally she could sense the shudders preceding his orgasm.
She sucked even harder, but then, at the last moment, just before letting go, he withdrew from her mouth.

She lay there gasping, madly gulping for air. Her lips
seemed swollen, her throat raw, her arms tingling sleepily
from the constant strain of the silk bonds.

He poised himself, lifting her hips with his hands, and then
he started to slide into her. She let out a yelp of surprise. For a moment she could scarcely breathe. He was so huge, so
impossibly swollen that she was afraid she could not take him.

But then he was suddenly inside her as far as he could go.
The sharp, piercing pain radiated inside her, stabbing through
out her belly.

He pulled back slowly, and the constricted feeling in her groin ebbed away with his movement, like a receding surf.
Afraid that he would pull out completely, she clamped her
wet insides against him, trying to trap him there through the
sheer force of her vaginal muscles.

Slowly, deliberately, he began to thrust half in, and then
out again. She shuddered and stared at his purposeful
expression. His mouth was open, his face agonized, as though
hurting from concentration, and a silvery thread of saliva formed on his lips and dripped down to her breasts.

She scissored her legs tightly around his buttocks, forcing
him to enter her more deeply.

In response, he began to pump away at her in earnest.

It was nothing like anything she had ever experienced
before. She knew that this mating ritual had nothing to do
with love, but it was as intense a lust as lust could get. He was like a man possessed. With his every thrust, she could feel his
scrotum bouncing against the cleft of her splayed thighs.

And he seemed indomitable, pumping on forever, relent
lessly pounding himself into her, stopping if his passion threat
ened to burst forth, and then continuing on as it subsided. His
skin was sheathed with a veneer of glistening sweat.

She had never known anything like it.

She closed her eyes, giving herself over completely to the
warm friction of his manhood, to this pleasure which seemed
to have no beginning, no end. She felt as if she could go on
like this forever. Her entire body was filled with it, and she
forgot the cramps in her bound arms and the constriction of
the tight necklace. In fact, she began to enjoy her helplessness.

On and on he savagely assaulted her open thighs, jolting
her with each inward thrust.

Then suddenly she let out a cry. Stars seemed to burst
behind her closed eyelids, pin wheels spun wildly, the sweat
dripping down off him seemed to hiss and sizzle and spark on
her skin like drops of water falling into hot oil. Wave after
wave of numbing, crashing orgasm rolled through her, repeat
ing like a mad symphonic crescendo with no end.

And still he continued.

'Please!' she whimpered. 'Please, please, give it to me! Hurt
me, Vaslav,
hurt me!'

Her voice took on the hellish chant of obscenity, each word punctuated by a thrust of his pummelling hips.

'More . . . oh, yes, more,
more,
harder,
harder!'

And then he let out a savage howl. She opened her eyes and
squeezed him tighter into her scissoring legs. His body bucked,
jerked, and he thrust so deep into her that she cried out in
pain, and then he clung to her as if for dear life and she could
feel him spouting inside her.

It was as if a dam had burst, and her own last shuddering
orgasm sent her wetness to mingle with his.

This time, she did not refuse his gift. When she left the house
in the early hours of the morning, she wore the pearl necklace
home.

And every time she saw him in the weeks that followed, he
presented her with another jewel, each more priceless than
the last. But they all had one thing in common: they were
tightly constricting necklaces or bracelets. Never rings or
brooches. Never earrings. Whether diamonds, sapphires,
emeralds, or rubies, gold or platinum, they were all, in one
way or another, symbols of his power over her. Slave collars
and slave bracelets.

And she found herself hungering for even more of his
twisted passion.