His Captive Mortal (17 page)

“Sasha! What’s going on? Get me out of this damn bubble!” Charlie’s furious protest brought her back and she released him from the black sphere.

He rushed forward, then stopped, looking at the piles of ash where the vampires had been. She stared, round-eyed.

“Did I...kill them?”

Charlie looked at her, a grim expression on his face. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” she said inanely.

He shrugged. “I’m not.”

She realized the grim expression was for her, not about the dead intruders.

“I told you not to follow me.”

She drew a breath and shut his front door. “I know, but I just had to talk to you. Please, Charlie—you can’t hold me accountable for something I did in a past life.” When he didn’t speak, she said, “ Or maybe you can, but I’m telling you I'm sorry.”

He continued to say nothing, just looked at her with the same expression—as if she were dead to him. But no, she knew he cared. He had just refused to give her up under torture. He must feel something for her, because he wasn’t the gallant type.

She tried to explain her thoughts. “I don’t know how karma works, but I think we met again so I could fix this, to heal the rift between us.”

He swallowed and nodded once.

“It’s not going to happen again, is that what you think? I would never hurt you.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched as if he did not believe her.

“Please, Charlie, I need you. I never wanted to be a fairy. You came along and showed me my power and turned my world upside down. I can’t do this without you.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I want to be your little fairy again. Please?”

Nothing in his expression changed. No softening of the grim lines of his face, his eyes still dead. “Come here,” he beckoned.

She walked to him. She sensed his anger, but she pushed back the undercurrent of fear it inspired. He wrapped her hair in his fist and pulled her head back, his fangs lengthening as he looked at her vein. As if in slow motion, he lowered his head to her neck, trailing a sharp fang along her vein. Her breath came in quick pants, her heart racing.

She realized she didn’t know this man—this vampire—at all. Would he drain her now to get even with Anka? Maybe he hadn’t turned her over to the other vampires because he wanted to destroy her himself.

He lifted her head and released her all in one swift motion. “Take off your clothes.”

Her eyes flew to his, her heart leaping. Had he forgiven her? Or was this an evil torture? She nibbled her lip. The way she saw it, she had no choice but to comply. She had just begged to be his. She had to prove her faithfulness, her trust. She shucked her clothing, dropping the articles at her feet one by one.

“Kneel.”

Her belly somersaulted. A game. Surely, this was his game. She lowered to her knees, praying he was not just humiliating her before he vanished once more.

“Hands behind your back.”

She grasped her own wrists behind her back and lowered her head submissively.

Charlie crouched beside her, stroking her hair back from her eyes. She saw emotion this time, but before she identified it, he lunged, tackling her and throwing her to her back, his hand cupping the back of her head to protect it from the floor. His fangs struck her neck and he drank, pushing the bulge of his clothed cock between her legs.

Panic flared, but as he continued to rock his pelvis against her sex, she exhaled and wrapped her legs around his waist. This was sexual, not angry….right? He wouldn’t drain her. Or turn her....she hoped. Once more, she felt her only choice was to give herself over, to prove she belonged to him. She twined her arms around his neck and closed her eyes, allowing the motion of his cock beneath his jeans to drive her passion.

The scrape of his jeans over her vulnerable bits came as a sort of pleasured pain—the more it dug into her, the more she wanted to feel it. She followed the sensations until she came from the friction against her clit, a small release, but satisfying just the same.

Charlie licked her wounds closed. “Did I say you could come?” he asked darkly.

Her belly fluttered. Their game. “No, master.”

“You will be punished for that.”

She shivered, excitement and fear mingling in anticipation.

He rolled her to her belly. “Bring your knees up under yourself.”

She rose to her hands and knees.

“Did I say you could use your hands?”

His cold, imperious tone made butterflies flutter in her stomach. She lowered her head and torso back to the carpet, dropping her arms beside her.

“Reach back and hold your cheeks open.”

She sucked in her breath, realizing his intention. Reluctantly, she reached back, taking one butt cheek in each hand and pulling them apart to expose her most private of places to him.

She heard a zipper and waited, tensed for his intrusion.

He rubbed the head of his cock over her pussy and she relaxed, relieved. But as soon as he’d dipped inside her slick channel, he withdrew and pushed against her back entrance, using her juices as the only lubricant.

Her anus contracted. “You’re too big,” she whined. “It won’t fit.”

He wrapped an arm under her waist and moved her hips forward and began to spank her with sharp, swift slaps. She let go of her cheeks and squeaked, trying to catch herself with her arms. There was no need. Charlie held her easily suspended as he warmed every inch of her backside in a flurry of spanks. He spanked on and on, until her pussy dripped from his dominance and her ass flamed. Had she not already been in such a submissive mindset, she might have resisted more, but despite the pain, she held still, surrendering to his punishment, knowing they both needed this. It seemed like he would never stop. Her breaths had turned to cries, then sobs and she knew her ass must be crimson.

He brought his hand up to her pussy, and she feared he’d begin to give her a serious spanking there as well, but he dipped his fingers into her dripping pussy and wiped them on her anus, working a digit into her hole before she’d realized what he meant to do.

She gasped, the sensation more pleasing than she believed it should be. 

He lowered her torso. “On your forearms.”

She assumed the position and waited, a rivulet of sweat trickling down her breast.

He removed his finger and brought the head of his cock to her back hole once more. The pressure stretched her and she whimpered.

Charlie reached a hand around and flicked Sasha’s clit. “Open for me.”

Her obedience, even in the face of his coldness, cracked the armor he’d put up, his mistrust of her fading each time she humbled herself to him. Cruel though it was, he was testing her, using sex as punishment, his cock in her ass as dominance, his fangs in her vein as authority.

There she knelt, her ass in the air for him, reddened by his hand, her spirit fearful, but willing.

He circled her clit and she relaxed, arching her beautiful ass toward him. He pressed his cock against her anus with more insistence, even when she drew a hissing breath.

“Open, Sasha,” he advised.

She held perfectly still and he continued his pressure forward, easing into her hot, tight tunnel. He gripped her hips and pulled them back, impaling her ass with his cock, then easing her back and repeating the slow movement.

Sasha moaned, a noise somewhere between protest and encouragement.

“Give me your wrist,” he commanded.

She looked over her shoulder, confused as she reached one wrist behind her, leaning on the three points of her shins and one forearm.

He gripped the wrist. “Now the other.”

Her eyes widened as she realized what he wanted. She had to rely on his hold on her captured wrist in order to lift her weight off the other arm. She leaned into it tentatively, lifting her arm reaching it back with a look of slight panic. He held both wrists in one hand, her torso suspended over the floor. If he let go, she would fall on her face. With his other hand, he gripped her hair and pulled her head back. In this position of complete dominance no part of her could resist him without paying a steep price.

Sasha mewled, but the scent of her arousal had grown so strong it filled the room. She wanted this as much as he needed it. He pumped in and out of her, fucking her ass as both punishment and penance, knowing this was the path back to all that had been good between them.

He moved slowly. Even though it was punishment, he took care not to be too rough. Sasha’s cries grew more insistent and he picked up speed, sensing the surging of cum, and remembering he was capable of orgasm. Thanks to her. He let himself go, pumping in and out, her tight channel hugging his pulsing cock until he lost control and shot his load with a groan. “You may come,” he remembered to say and she let out a high-pitched cry and orgasmed. He sat back on his heels and pulled her up to sit back on him, gently releasing her wrists and hair. He lifted her off his cock and she groaned and collapsed on him, her head falling back over his shoulder.

After they caught their breath, he finally spoke. “I don’t know what to think of all this, Sasha,” he said, the weariness of his sleepless days sounding in his voice. “But I do know that you are mine. Nothing can change that fact.”

Sasha’s body began to shake and he tightened his arms around her, smelling the salt of tears. The depth of his response to her pain answered any remaining doubt he might have had about her or them. He couldn’t walk away from her, no matter what challenge they faced—even having Anka between them.

“I think you have as much hold on my heart in this life as you had on my balls in the last.”

“No,” she sniffed. “Charlie, you were always in charge then, too. Didn’t you know that? She only needed to be told no by you. To be punished and put to rights. She never thought you would leave her. I think the reason I panic every time you disappear is from the depth of her pain when you walked out.”

He stiffened, still finding it difficult to talk about Anka or accept that Sasha spoke on her behalf. “So what were the other men?”

“Games. Nothing. She—I—only cared for you.”

His emotions tangled again with resistance at feeling anything other than hatred toward Anka and disgust that the purity of his relationship with Sasha’s was now sullied with Anka and their past.

Sasha twisted, craning to see his face. She touched his cheek. “Forgive her?” She shifted her bottom on his lap to turn more. “Forgive me. Let the past be healed. Please?” She took his face in her hands and kissed him. He felt love pouring out of her and into him—the same sensation he’d experienced when she’d floated the soft pink bubble to him.

His remaining anger slid away as he realized Anka could not hurt him again, even if she lived on through Sasha. His little fairy loved him with a heart so big it could heal all wounds. His eyes burned as he kissed her back, releasing his last reservations. He stood, lifting Sasha to straddle his waist and carried her to the shower, where he turned on the water and stepped in.

The droplets ran over their heads, cleansing them of the burnt smell from the crisped vampires. Knowing Sasha had the power to destroy him so easily and yet still knelt at his feet, making him her master made him ache with love. He pulled off his shirt, soaked now, and tossed it over the curtain rod. Running his hands across Sasha’s shoulders, he worshipped the magnificent curves of her lithe body. He picked up the soap and ran it over her skin, lathering circles around her breast, down the cleft of her ass.

Control slipped away and he shoved her up against the shower wall, pinning her there and forcing a knee between her thighs. “I might have to take you again, Sasha,” he murmured in a dangerous voice. “Now that you’ve released me from the curse, I might be taking you ten times a day. Or more.”

Her mouth opened and she arched into his hands, water running in rivulets down her golden skin.

He bent his knees to fit his cock to her cunt, sliding into her without needing to prepare the way. He tucked his palms behind her shoulders to cushion the shock, then began to thrust hard, trapping her between his body at the tile wall. His fangs had lengthened and he longed to strike again, but held back, knowing he could not drink from her every time he had his way.

The wall seemed too hard to slam her little body against, so he wrapped her in his arms, keeping close and using his muscles to protect her from the force of his passion.

She lifted one leg and wrapped it around his waist, changing the angle of her tunnel. He pounded into her until she gasped, “May I—?”

“Yes,” he choked, losing control and finding his own peak at the same moment she convulsed against him.

Charlie traced them back to her place after their shower. When he noticed the bruise appearing on her cheek from where the vampire had smashed her against the wall, he hissed, baring his teeth. Pushing her to sit on the bed, he vanished, and she almost cursed before she heard him in her kitchen, opening the refrigerator door. He flashed back, holding an ice pack wrapped in a kitchen towel. She jerked her head back instinctively when he tried to touch her bruise, so he pressed the ice in her hands. “You do it,” he said softly, still looking grim about it.

He picked up the dresser he’d overturned and replaced it. “Sorry,” he muttered. He stood with his hands on his hips and looked around.  “What are we going to do, Sasha? A fairy doesn’t belong downtown. You need to live in nature with room for a big garden so you can do things fae do with plants.”

She blinked, surprised.

“Let’s buy some land and build a house. With a basement for me and a light-filled ground floor for you.”

She trembled, hardly believing how well he seemed to understand her and her desires. “Do you...how would we pay for it?”

“I have lots of money,” he said dismissively.

“What about my job? How will I get there?”

He considered her. “I have a car you can drive. I won’t make you quit, but I think I’ll have another discussion with Edith to reduce your hours. Or perhaps I’ll get a job there too.”

“What?” she asked, laughing.