Netherworld II: Blood Potion No. 9 (7 page)

The pressure eased, and Tristan rubbed
the swelling red nubs with gentle thumbs. He lifted his gaze to
mine for just an instant to smile his approval at me. I’d done
well. Then he went back to eyeing my breasts, his eyes dark, his
expression hungry.

He lowered his face to the left one,
his tongue flicking out to swirl around and around like soft
velvet. The gentle caress eased the still lingering ache, and I
sighed with contentment. Tristan at his kindest was a tender lover.
At his worst, he’s incredibly cruel. I like him both ways,
especially when he mixes it up. He was about to make me a very
happy girl.

His mouth latched onto my breast,
sucking it deep into his mouth, rubbing that glorious tongue all
over. A moment later, he bit down, his teeth digging into the soft
flesh until stabs of pain mixed headily with soft delight. My pussy
gushed a warm flood. I arched a little, forgetting myself for about
half a second before I remembered I was to be still. I made myself
go limp with acceptance once more.

Tristan licked and sucked and nipped
the one breast while caressing and squeezing and pinching the other
with his hand. Pain alternated with bliss until I didn’t know one
from the other, and they combined into one incredible sensation. I
felt as if I floated on the bed, acquiescing equally to torture and
reward as if they were no different from each other. For me, they
weren’t.

Tristan sucked hard on the nipple he’d
been mouthing so delightfully, making the tip a scarlet red point.
“Clamp it,” he ordered.

Like the clothing I affected, I
conjured a tweezer clip to appear on the distended nub, the kind
Tristan likes best on me. He tightened it until I whimpered, the
bright pain too much to keep silent about. Then his mouth went to
work on my other breast until it too was inflamed from his
attentions. At his command, I provided a clamp for that one as
well, which he adjusted until I squirmed.

Red-hot and engorged, my nipples
throbbed with my returned pulse. Tristan spent a long time playing
with those sensitive tips, making me shudder and enjoying his
mastery. His pinches and nips finally forced the words, “Please,
Sir!” from my lips.

Another tie appeared at his neck, and
he used it to gag me. With my vulnerability increased to the nth
degree, I was already desperate for climax. And he had only played
with my breasts.

I also couldn’t use my safeword now,
the one word that would tell Tristan I couldn’t take anymore. But
we’d built up such a level of trust that I didn’t fret over it.
Tristan was the best Dom I’d ever known, and he’d keep an eye on me
to see if I was in real distress. Trust me; nothing, and I mean
nothing, gets past him.

In fact, he was checking to make sure
the gag wasn’t too tight. His finger ran between it and my jaw.
“Okay?” he whispered.

I nodded. Much more than okay.
Fabulous. I so loved being helpless at his hands.

With a cruel grin that made my stomach
curl in on itself in anxious anticipation, Tristan went back to my
breasts, rubbing the tender buds of my nipples with rough thumbs.
My fists clenched at the warring sensations of pain and delight.
The comforter beneath me was damp with my juices. I sobbed in
helpless ecstasy. Talk about hurting so good.

My wonderful brute of a master finally
moved in a southerly direction. My throbbing breasts would get a
break now, but I knew Tristan would be just as ruthless, if not
more, with my nether parts. He sat back, kneeling between my
splayed thighs to look at my smooth, hairless sex. He gazed at me
for a long time, letting fearful anticipation build.

He is not only the king of mouth, butt,
and pussy screwing. No one can match Tristan for a good mind-eff
either.

“You look good and wet,” he commented,
as if he discussed nothing more interesting than the weather.
“Someone’s enjoying herself a lot this morning.”

Oh yes I was. Thank you,
Sir.

“I love this pussy,” he continued. “I
love shoving my tongue and cock in it.”

What a coincidence. I love that
too.

“I love that it’s open and ready for
me. I love that I can do whatever I want with it.”

Oh, you most certainly can, Sir. So how
about getting to it? I’m dying here.

“I love playing with your clit and not
letting you come.”

Oh crap.

Tristan went to work on me then. His
thumb circled around and around that sensitive spot, swirling my
juices all about the soon distended nub. He smiled a little as he
did it, relaxed and enjoying me twitching as he took his sweet time
driving me crazy. Once in awhile he’d rub directly on the straining
tip, making me jerk in response. That bit of disobedience to his
order to remain still earned me a sharp slap on the buttock he
lifted from the bed. Pretty soon my butt felt like it was on fire.
All I could do was lay there and take it, my arousal growing with
every second.

After enjoying my helplessness for
awhile, Tristan shoved a finger into me, his other hand still
engaged in clit torture. He pushed in and out hard and fast,
searching for the nest of nerves inside my sleeve to torment me
even worse. I sobbed a little, knowing

when he found it, I’d really be in a
world of hurt. Unfortunately for me it didn’t take him long, and
then the battle was on.

Sweet, ticklish pleasure lit within me,
trying to suffuse my entire pussy with liquid fire. Tristan rubbed
hard on that interior spot, making my insides balloon with
pleasure. At the same time, his thumb pressed over my clit, taking
me close to explosion. I fought with all I had not to come right
then and there. I couldn’t disobey him. I had to be a good sub for
my master.

This is Tristan’s favorite way to
assert dominance over me. He’ll take me to where I’m almost inside
out with desperation to orgasm and deny me. If I cave and allow
myself to realize climax, he becomes very displeased and I’m
punished for it. His disappointment in my inability to serve his
wishes is much worse than the discipline.

And he makes it exceedingly difficult
to obey.

A second, then third finger joined the
delicious assault on my pussy. He pounded them into me, his
expression strangely cold and distant as he worked me over. I knew
I was making too much noise for his liking, but it felt so good and
I wanted to come so much! His gaze was on my face, watching me lose
ground as pleasure swelled. His demands warred with my body’s. I
fought desperately for him to win, but the steady smack-smack of
his palm meeting my pussy, those fingers crooked to massage the
sensitive inside spot with a strength that made my toes curl, and
that heavy thumb stroking around and around my clit, sliding over
it sometimes to make me arch desperately, all this was driving my
eager body towards the finish line.

“Be quiet, Brandilynn,” Tristan ordered
as I groaned my desperation. His hand lifted from my clit, and he
delivered a slap to the distended nub.

The sting, hot and demanding, took me
to the very edge of orgasm, and I thought I’d lose it right there.
Ecstasy dove at me, tried to swallow me whole, and I almost let it.
I was so fraught with the need to come. My insides gave a warning
spasm, and I thought no, no, no, no.

It was heaven and hell, all rolled into
one.

Tristan’s thumb went back to that
roundabout swirl, which was nearly enough to finish the job. I hung
poised on the brink for several seconds before hungry-eyed orgasm
retreated a half step. It waited there, only needing the slightest
moment of weakness to make me a bad sub.

I saw the amusement in Tristan’s eyes.
Oh no. He knew how close I’d come that time. He was going to push
harder than ever now.

How can I describe the next half hour
of immeasurable elation and unmitigated agony? Having to lay quiet
and still and open while the man you love uses every weapon at his
disposal to make you come while demanding you don’t? In between the
light teasing and occasional tweaks, Tristan now spanked my clit
from time to time. In addition, his fingers continued to thrust
hard and fast into my pussy. I was in such anguished arousal that
tears poured from my eyes. I can’t count how many times I nearly
gave in and let that tidal wave of rapture take me into the ocean
of bliss. Only my determination to please Tristan, to let him know
how I treasured his authority over me, kept me hanging on by an
ever unraveling thread.

At last his own need, curled tight and
flushed against his belly, ended that round of torment. Tristan’s
fingers pulled free of my sheath. His thumb continued to draw lazy
circles around my clit as he sucked the honey he’d gathered from
his thick digits. He sighed with pleasure.

“Tasting good as always, little
lady.”

I felt so empty without him.
Incomplete. I poured emotion into my eyes, begging him to fill me
again. I wanted his long, thick cock with a desperation that made
me cry anew.

“Poor girl. My Brandilynn needs to
come, doesn’t she?” Tristan smiled sympathetically. “In a little
while. You’ve been a good girl so far. Just a little longer
now.”

I warmed at his praise. He knew how
hard I’d tried. He was pleased. Now if he’d just shove his sex into
mine…

I was so happy as he crawled forward to
crouch over me. Yes. I was eager for him to screw me silly, but I
had to keep still, keep quiet. I wasn’t going to ruin this when I
was so close to getting what I needed.

Tristan pressed gentle kisses all over
my face. He rubbed my nipples, still trapped in the clamps, to make
me stiffen with reaction. He chuckled indulgently and rubbed harder
for a moment. Then his hand traveled down, moving between us to
grasp himself and position for entrance.

A thrill shivered down my spine to feel
the hard heat of him part my nether lips. Then he was slowly
pressing in, filling me with his length. The gradual possession was
as tormenting as the feeling of his fingers driving quick into me.
I was crying again with the need to be taken with strength, to be
drummed against until I came, allowing me to release all the
pent-up exhilaration that almost hurt with its
intensity.

But Tristan was determined to make me
wait, to keep me excruciatingly aware of who was boss in the
bedroom. If you’ve never had a man who looked at you with a
confusing combination of love and ruthlessness, then I can’t
explain the stomach-churning emotion I was feeling right then. And
I kept my place as the obedient submissive, accepting what my
master deemed I may have.

But gosh, how I wanted more.

He slid into the body I had given him,
his possession until our lovemaking was through. I lay there
quietly, trembling, crying with need as he crept further and
further in. I wanted to groan with relief when he finally reached
the end, our bodies at last pressed as close together as they were
allowed. The pleasurable pressure of his cock greeting my cervix
had me bright with impending climax once more, and a slow
convulsion waxed and waned in my pussy. Tristan’s eyebrows
lifted.

“You will wait for my permission, sub,”
he warned, his voice cold. A hard palm smacked the side of one
breast, which only got me hotter. But I made myself go utterly
still. Control, I coached silently. Control it.

Tristan propped himself up on his
hands, like he was about to do pushups over me. He looked down,
down to where our bodies became one. He began to draw himself out,
watching as he emerged shiny wet with my juices.

He took me slowly, watching his cock
spear my pussy over and over. I watched too, loving how he stabbed
in and out, taking me so completely, possessing me as a man was
made to possess a woman.

I am a strong-willed person, someone
who likes complete and utter control of her life outside of the
bedroom. There is nothing submissive about me when sex isn’t
involved. But there are times when I think what it would be to give
myself over to a man in every aspect, to let him hold sway over my
life. It has only happened with a handful of men, and maybe only a
dozen times in my thirty-five years. This was one of those
times.

I’m no doormat. But Tristan is so
commanding, so masterful, so safe, that right now I thought of
kneeling at his feet as he conducted business, of following in his
wake, of anticipating and fulfilling his every need. I trusted and
loved him that much that the thought teased me for a few seconds,
wondering what it would be like to serve him at all
times.

Lust does some crazy stuff to my head
every now and then. But all I had to do to snap out of it was
remember that he’s a vampire half his afterlife. We will now return
you to your regular Brandilynn, already back in
progress.

Tristan continued the slow taking,
drawing in and out to make me feel every excruciating moment of
intrusion and retreat. His muscles were corded, letting me know he
wouldn’t be able to maintain the torment much longer. Soon his lust
would take over, forcing him to take me hard and fast, allowing us
both glorious dissolution. I only had to retain control until his
need matched mine. But I was still on the brink, so close that the
slightest thing could undo me.