How to Discipline Your Vampire (18 page)

She threw up her arms. “You know what?” she asked. “I don’t even think I can get away with saying he was my boyfriend. It was all a charade.” She shook her head and her mouth puckered miserably. “He didn’t want anything other than revenge. And he got it. And I paid the fucking price—my heart, my dignity, my relationship with the only parent I have, and my virginity.”

Oh no.

Perhaps this was why she was so upset that she took mine so . . . unconventionally.

“I don’t understand,” I said. And I didn’t—how did revenge and sex go together? And her dignity?

She pushed away the soggy stray hairs that had slipped out of the ponytail, and spoke in a voice so distant, it almost wasn’t her own. “To put it simply, a boy went out with me just to get even with the school principal—my dad—the one who suspended him and kept him from getting a college scholarship. He wanted to publicly humiliate my dad, and in the process, I was ruined.” At this statement, she began to cry so hard she was hyperventilating.

She’d sob, then inhale sharply, desperately trying to catch her breath. I had to stop this interrogation.

I helped her to the edge of the bed, and had her breathe with her head down. I rubbed her back, smoothed her hair, and told her repeatedly that she was not ruined, and had nothing to fear from me.

“Cerise, I have no ulterior motives. I’m happy when I’m making you happy,” I explained, honestly. When her breathing steadied, I took her small chin in my hand and asked, “Can’t we just keep making each other happy? Isn’t the future more important than the past?”

Still woozy from the drinks, she smiled the innocent grin of a child. She looked so . . . fragile, and so vulnerable. She pulled herself from my seated embrace, and drew me down into the bed with her.

And she told me her story.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Cerise

“Nick, are you sure it’s private back here?” I had asked him, scanning the parking lot warily. The lot was behind the main building, and it was where kids parked only if they were coming into school late.

“Shh, baby,” he said, smoothing my hair. “Nobody’s gonna see us. You know my sister’s always home, and I’d be scared shitless to do it at your house. I mean, you never know when your dad’s gonna be back, with all his school-board meetings and stuff.” Nick made a convincing argument, especially while fiddling between my legs. We had started messing around a few weeks ago, and I was pretty sure today was going to be “it.” We were cutting study, and since they rarely take attendance there, I figured we wouldn’t be missed.

He pulled my underpants down from beneath my skirt. I spread my legs, and enjoyed the sensation mostly disarmed. “But there are some cars in the lot—” I began to say, and he slid a finger inside and cut me off sharply.

“They won’t just come up to our car,” he said, and added, “Plus, it’s after lunch, so nobody’s coming back here to smoke. Your dad’s in a meeting—one of my buddies got busted for pot, and you know how long suspensions take.” He gave me a long, tonguey kiss, and unfastened my bra.

“Let’s get in the back,” Nick said, peeking out the windows. I was glad he was trying to make sure there were no onlookers.

Once we had settled in the backseat, Nick wasted no time removing my shirt. I sat there as he fondled and ogled my breasts, while alternately looking out the window and checking the time. I wanted his full attention, so I grabbed him between the legs.

It was just the cue he needed.

In no time, I was naked and Nick had his pants down. The petting got heavier and heavier, as he continued groping and fingering me roughly.

He started edging his “parts” closer to my “parts” and soon enough, I realized it was about to happen. Granted, it wasn’t the most romantic setting, but my body was ready. The things Nick did to me with his fingers and mouth left me wanting and empty, and I knew what had to happen next.

I leaned back against the window and spread my legs. He opened a condom.

“No, baby, get on your hands and knees,” he said.

I was sure some surprise registered on my face, but he quickly responded to my reaction. “I just,” he said, touching me intimately, “heard it hurts less that way.”

Well, that was sweet of him . . . I guessed.

Although I had always pictured looking into his eyes as I lost my virginity to him. I imagined him holding me close, and telling me he loved me.

Instead, I awkwardly crawled into doggy style position as he took me quickly and loudly. He grunted like a tennis pro.

I didn’t feel any pain, really—my first tampon did that trick years ago—and I didn’t think he was big enough to hurt me. It was just weird and uncomfortable.

“Keep your head down,” was the first thing he said. Nothing sweet, or even anything horny.

“Why?” I asked, as he grabbed my hips, pulling me toward him again and again. I squirmed and tried to make it feel good.

“I think I hear something.”

I tried to plop down lower in the seat, so that nobody would see me, but Nick assured me that as long as my head was down, we were fine.

At this point, I was pretty sure my instincts had led me astray. It would only take another minute to pass by for me to realize just how poor my judgment was.

We continued like that a little longer, grunting and awkwardly humping, when the door in front of me was swung open, and a horrified face glared down at us.

I lifted my head, and several things happened at once.

First was Nick’s laughter.

Then came the shrieking and hooting from a group of teens that had camped two cars down. All to catch one reaction.

The reaction on Principal Norrel’s face when he realized that the “indecent exposure in the parking lot” phone call was about his daughter.

“Who’s your daddy, Cerise?!” Nick shouted, and relentlessly thrust into me as I tried to struggle from his hold. “And who’s fucking your daughter, Mr. Principal? Payback’s a bitch, and so is your little slut,” he taunted, as I watched my father’s face crumble.

“Daddy!” I sobbed, desperate to cover myself, desperate to get away from the ugliness.

“You like that? Your daddy watching?” Nick said, as he sunk his awful dick inside me one last time and pulled out as my father attacked him, yanking him out of the car by his collar.

The laughter kept coming from Nick’s friends on the sidelines, the ones who made the prearranged call to the principal. I fumbled to get dressed, and it dawned on me that yes, my life could be ruined in one moment.

I awoke with a gasp and a cold shudder that left my heart aching and raw. Before I even opened my eyes, I knew I was hungover. That much was obvious—the headache, the empty yet rolling stomach pains. The taste in my mouth wasn’t as unpleasant as I had expected, but where was the bitter cottonmouth from too many drinks and not enough water?

I rolled over and saw William, eyeing me from mere inches away. My hands acted involuntarily and I pulled him into my embrace. A moment later, the only taste in my mouth was his tongue. What a way to wake up. I felt his hands on the sides of my face, and the gentle pressure of his weight as he roused me with a passionate kiss. My mouth came alive at the sensation. I was never one for making out, but I swear if everyone kissed like William, it would replace baseball as the national pastime. His lips, smooth as chocolate, gently sucked on my tongue as it slipped into his refreshingly chilled mouth.

My hands locked in his black hair, and I pulled his body closer to mine for more friction. I was still in my cocktail dress, and he was still—unfortunately—in his suit from last night. We hadn’t—
fuck.

Remembering what I said last night was the last thing I wanted to think of right now. What I wanted to think about was using his tie as a gag and strapping him roughly to these thousand-thread-count sheets. Four Seasons—nice choice of hotel, by the way.
I bet the little soaps in the bathroom cost more than the contents of my entire medicine cabinet,
I mused.

He noticed that I had stopped tongue-fucking his face.

“Cerise?” he asked warily, looking into my soul with his otherworldly indigo eyes. He really needed to stop disarming me like that.

I took a deep breath, and measured my words carefully. “Thank you for taking care of me last night,” I said bashfully, and sat up. I needed to acknowledge what he did—not only did he show me a great time, talk me down from my ledge,
and
put my drunk ass to bed . . . but he also listened to me. He comforted me, and he didn’t take advantage of my inebriated and horny state. “I’m beginning to wonder if vampires are a species of angel.”

He smiled sweetly, and smoothed my bedhead. “Of course I’d take care of you,” he said, as though he did nothing extraordinary. Maybe he didn’t even know how special he was.

“William,” I said, realizing I needed to clarify, “you, uhh, really went above and beyond the call of duty.”

He frowned slightly, and explained. “I was taking care of your needs. Whatever you require, I give happily. A shoulder to cry on, or a hangover remedy—anything you need, I will take care of. Please don’t question my devotion,” he said, burying his head in my hair. “Thank you for sharing your past with me last night,” he whispered. “It feels good when you open up to me.”

Honestly, it was true. Despite my embarrassment, I thought last night’s episode was cathartic for both of us. Slowly but surely, William was removing the bricks I had walled up around myself for years. At first, he merely beat his fists against them, but now, I believe he may have been dismantling my defenses.

And I think I may be okay with it.

“Well,” I said, cradling his head against me, “your journals showed me a lot about you, so I suppose it was only right for me to share as well.”

“Can we talk more about it?”

“Absolutely not,” I replied. I didn’t want to relive that nightmare again. Another time, another day, perhaps.

“Then may I suggest an activity for today?” William asked politely, pulling himself out of the little cocoon he had made from my hair.

I nodded, not knowing what to expect.

He strode over to the closet, and pulled out a cute and casual skirt and blouse—both crafted from former pajamas, of course—and tossed them to me lightly. “We’re going to the movies,” he said.

I raised my brows at him, and he retracted and rephrased. “Er, I mean, would you like me to accompany you to the movies, Mistress?” he asked.

I nodded. “That’s better.”

The theater was empty, but that was to be expected. I mean, really, who went to go see classic films at eleven
AM
on the weekend?

A vampire and his girlfriend, that’s who.

OH MY GOD—did I just think the word
girlfriend
?

I mean Mistress. Right.
MISTRESS.

We found our seats, right in the middle, up toward the front, and William graciously bought me popcorn and ginger ale. My stomach was still a bit tender from the sidecar bender.

“Casablanca,”
I said as the screen sprung to life. “You know, it’s a shame I have never seen this. Guess I just never got around to it.”

William smiled and put his arm around me. We looked like any regular couple. “I’ve lived through all of this,” he said, gesturing at the screen with his free hand. “This is a Sunday series,” he explained. “They do a classic movie from every decade. If you want to come back, you can see more of what my life has been like.”

“Sounds great.”

We both fell silent, cuddled up, and began watching the classic love story.

I was entranced by the beauty of it all. The dialogue was well written, the costumes were simply gorgeous, and the plot had me intrigued. As I stared at the screen, I imagined William sitting in Rick’s café, just as lonely as the proprietor. I put my head on his shoulder.

He kissed my ear and whispered, “We’re alone, you know, Mistress.”

Bizzy stirred from the movie-induced slumber. She said
Casablanca
wasn’t smutty enough, so she had been quiet for some time. “How do you know?” I asked.

“The silence,” he sighed, cool breath tickling my ear. “All I can hear is the movie and your heartbeat.” And speaking of my heartbeat, I’m sure he heard it just skip a beat. I’m also sure he heard my breath hitch in my throat.

“And what are you implying, William?” I asked, voice stern but teasing.

He squirmed in his seat, and I liked it.

“Well,” he said, voice nearly breaking, “I left you a little surprise in your purse.”

Another surprise?
Hmm, this should be interesting,
I thought as I fumbled through my larger than necessary Coach bag.

And my fingers touched cold, slick metal.

Two sets of handcuffs.

“William,” I said incredulously, “did you set this up as a scene?” I dangled the two pairs of cuffs in front of his face accusingly.

“Maybe,” he said, looking down sheepishly. I reminded myself that he couldn’t blush, although I swear I could see color creeping into his lovely visage.

I clicked the cuffs so that his wrists were strapped to the armrests. He was blissfully immobile. “This one’s
all
for you, my creative submissive,” I said into his ear, and began to lower myself to a kneeling position.

And then, using his ridiculous speed, William slipped his jacket from under his seat . . . hands still cuffed . . . and made sure I wasn’t kneeling on the cold theater floor. A gentleman to the end, this vampire.

Though the theater was dark, I could make out the shapes that were necessary. For instance, the very obvious bulge in William’s slacks. I pulled him out slowly, and he writhed in his seat. I heard the delicious sound of the handcuffs clinking as he squirmed.

“Don’t move, William,” I warned. “I know those cuffs can’t hold you,” I said, pausing to flick his tip with my tongue, “so you’ll have to show me your restraint in another way. Don’t move your body and don’t let me hear a sound.”

He sat in compliance, mute, already obeying my directives.

And then, my popcorn-buttered hands greased his long length, and I took a delicious lick. I hummed, increasing the sensation for him, and placed him deeply down my throat. I half-expected to hear him break the rules, but he sat stoically as I deep-throated him. His eyes, however, gave him away.

It was amazing how so much emotion and feeling could be expressed through his eyes. Sometimes they were soft, inviting me to let down my guard and just lose myself. Other times, like now, they sizzled, intense. I felt my face burn as he looked down on me with ferocious passion.