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Authors: Sydney Croft

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Erotic fiction, #Romance, #Adult, #Occult fiction, #Erotica, #Occult, #Sexual dominance and submission

Taming the Fire (6 page)

BOOK: Taming the Fire
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“You aren't suitably subdued, boy,” she said. “So stubborn.”

Tingling with anticipation, she selected a toy from the assortment of dildos hanging on the far wall. Syn fetched a bottle of lube, and Rik took her time slathering the clear gel on the crystal wand. Trance couldn't see what she was doing, but she sensed his growing anxiety. He wasn't afraid, though. She'd have smelled that, and she'd stop.

Smiling, she introduced the tip of the wand to his anus.

Trance went apeshit. His roar of rage was like a cold draft blowing through the room. The scent of his anger was so strong she tasted it on her tongue, a spicy, acrid burn.

She watched his fingers for the safe gesture he'd chosen before undressing, but he didn't make it. Instead, he made fists and tried to break free of the stocks, his biceps bulging and straining. The crack of wood shocked her; he had to be incredibly strong.

“Easy, boy,” she murmured, unable to contain her appreciation for his fire and strength. She quickly but gently pushed the dildo inside him while at the same time stroking his cock.

His breath came in harsh pants, but his struggles eased as she thrust in and out with the wand, up and down with her hand. Her subs always liked this, but this man was no sub, and she doubted anyone had ever done this to him. If they had, it had been because he ordered it, but even then, she couldn't see him asking to be fucked with a dildo. No, alphas like him didn't want to be invaded in any way.

She angled the wand to strike his prostate on each stroke, drawing a ragged groan from him. Gradually, his struggles ceased, and he began to rock into her thrusts.

“You've been a very bad boy,” she said softly. “I don't know if I should let you come or not.” Still thrusting into him, she reached around and unsnapped his gag, letting it fall to the floor. “Are you sorry for disobeying me earlier?”

“Yes …
. Mistress.”
His voice was low, guttural, so thick with need that her own desire whipped through her, making her clit swell and her breasts grow achingly heavy.

“Then I'll release you. When I do, you'll climb on the bondage altar and lay on your back.”

“Whatever pleases you, Mistress.”

This was too easy. “Given your past behavior, I'll be taking some precautions.”

He groaned as she removed the anal wand and fetched a cock cage. He didn't seem angry anymore, but she'd definitely pushed him to his limit, sexually and emotionally, and no way was she going to risk him either finding release with his own hand or jumping on her.

She locked the device, a tube shaped of wire and leather, in place, removed the ball spreader, and released Trance from the stocks. For a moment he stood there, nostrils flaring, chest heaving, and his wild gaze boring into her. Shadows lurked in his eyes, and she knew he was trying to decide how much further he wanted to take this. The internal battle waged in his expression, and she wondered why he was here, doing something so against his nature, and why it was so important to him.

“Do it,” she said. “Do it now, or we end this.”

The vein in his temple throbbed, but he padded to the altar and lay back as ordered. Quickly, she fastened his arms and legs to the table, for which she earned a brief glare.

Syn ran her hand up his thigh. “This one is worthy of extra attention.” Her voice was husky, dripping with desire, and a savage streak of jealousy shot through Rik. “Let's play with him together. You can fuck him while I let him eat my pussy.” She grasped his jaw and tilted his face toward her. “Show me your tongue, boy.”

Trance nailed Syn with a fierce stare.
“You are not my mistress.”
His voice was like gravel tumbling over ice.

He should have obeyed Syn, and Rik should be furious that he didn't, but satisfaction curled through her instead. She swatted Syn's hand away. “He's mine. For tonight,” she amended, at the other woman's cocked eyebrow.

Syn huffed. “If you need an extra set of hands, call me.”

Once Syn was gone, Rik turned to Trance. “Look at me.” He obeyed, but nothing had changed. The battle raged on in the shadows of his eyes, the severe line of his jaw. Something in her melted a little at the sight of a war she understood far too well.

“Why are you doing this, Trance? Why are you forcing yourself to do something you don't want to do?” Her voice was soft as she placed a hand on his chest, felt his heartbeat pound into her palm, coming faster with each passing second. She knew what it was like to go against one's nature. Each time she played the hated role of dominatrix, she lost one more piece of the peaceful, happy girl she'd been before Itor took her. “Did you hurt someone during play? Is that why you're doing this? Penance?”

“I told you—”

“Yes, you said you wanted to learn to submit. I don't believe you. You don't want to learn. You don't want to be here. But you are. Why?”

“My reasons are my own.” His voice lowered, throbbed with challenge. “If true confessions are part of this deal, then let me up and I'll go find Syn. She has no interest in my soul. She only wants my tongue.”

Jealousy spun up again, and was ruthlessly squashed. If this were a true Dom-sub relationship, she'd push, would spend weeks, maybe months earning enough trust to go deep into his psyche and learn what he needed and why he would force himself to push so hard against his nature. But ultimately, for a one-night stand, she didn't need to know. And she wasn't sure why she even wanted to.

She did, however, know that she didn't want him anywhere near Syn.

“We'll finish what we started.” She removed the cock cage and put some steel into her voice once more. “Do you think you've earned an orgasm?”

His lids lowered as he watched her stroke him. “Yes, ma'am.”

“Ma'am?” She circled her thumb over a drop of pre-cum at the tip of his shaft. “Were you always so polite?”

A sharp intake of breath made her look up and wonder why the hell she was asking him questions as if she were serving him coffee instead of getting ready to mount him. “Yes, Mistress. Sorry. I slipped.”

“I liked it,” she said, with no damned trace of the hard edge she'd aimed for. “You can call me ma'am.”

Heat bloomed low in her belly as he arched his back into her touch. She should punish him for that, but need consumed her all of a sudden. She needed to fuck him, needed to come.

She fetched the wand once more, climbed up on the table, and straddled his hips. Too late she realized she'd forgotten a condom, though she used them for the sub, not for her. The club provided birth control, and thanks to Itor's experimentation and genetic enhancements, she'd become immune to most human-borne diseases.

Trance didn't seem to mind the lack of protection. He watched, teeth clenched, as she lowered herself onto his hard cock, and when she reached behind and penetrated him with the wand, his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

Satisfaction and warmth sighed through her. He'd gentled to anal penetration, something he'd probably never thought he'd want or enjoy.

For the first time, she wished she could allow herself to continue seeing a sub. She'd like to be the one to tame him, to make him want to serve her. But she didn't have the patience, the trust, or the gentle touch necessary for such work, not when nearly every move she made was calculated to bring
her
pleasure.

Such as now. She rode him slowly, savoring the feel of the thick column impaling her. Her juices coated him, creating a slick, hot friction that made her whimper no matter how hard she bit her lip. A sheen of sweat dampened her breasts as she rocked, putting delicious pressure on her clit with every forward roll.

God, how many sessions had she orchestrated in different clubs? So many, too many, but not one had come close to bringing her the kind of pleasure she'd found with Trance.

And they weren't even finished.

The tendons in Trance's neck strained as he punched his head back on the table. His shaft swelled inside her, but before he blew, she stilled, not quite finished with the torture, even though her womb quivered with the need to find release.

“Beg for it,” she said, and though the very idea must have grated on every fiber of his being, he did it. Through clenched teeth.

“Please, Mistress. Fuck me. Make me come.”

“That was pathetic.” She turned the wand a little, wiggling it to stimulate his prostate, and he gasped. “Tell me again. Tell me what you want.”

His gaze caught and held hers, bored into her with an intensity that stole the air from her lungs. “I want to break free of these bonds, bend you the
fuck over
and rail you so hard you scream.” He arched up as much as he could, forcing a breath of shock out of her in a rush. “And when I'm done, I want to spank the hell out of you before I tie you down, make you suck my cock and swallow every last drop of my load. Now, will you
please
let me come?”

Holy shit
. If she weren't already on her knees, she'd have been knocked to them. No one had ever spoken to her like that. Her body shook with desire even as her mind screamed a warning. This man would never be tamed, and trying to do so would only result in tragedy.

Her body didn't give a rat's ass and began to move of its own accord, finding a punishing, grinding rhythm. “I'm in charge,” she ground out, breathless already. “Say it.”

“You're in charge,” he groaned.

“You like it when I take you. You like to be bound and helpless while I fuck you. Say it. You can come if you say it.” She tweaked one of his nipples, encouraging a response. Her own response made itself known in a rush of moisture flowing down his shaft.

His body strained against the bonds, his muscles bulging, his joints popping. “I like being bound. Like when you take me… oh, yeah, oh,
fuck!”

Hot blasts filled her, licking her sensitive inner walls until she flew apart, her entire nervous system lighting up like a stormy sky. Beneath her, Trance jerked and shuddered as she milked the last of his orgasm. Heat poured off him, heat and relief and a touch of irritation. Mixed with those, the scent of blood.

Her eyes flew open, and she nearly cried out at the sight of his chest, scored by her fingernails in deep gouges. A rush of hunger struck before she could be too horrified. It had been too long since she'd let the beast out to hunt, to kill, to rend something apart and eat it raw. She could tamp down the urges with daily meals of uncooked meat, but sometimes, like now, instinct reared its ugly head.

A wicked tugging sensation drew her mouth toward his skin, her mouth watering. Just a taste. That's all she wanted…

“Mistress?” Beneath her, Trance bucked. “Mistress!
Daddy.”

She froze at the safe word, her mouth closed over a cut. The heady, coppery taste of his lifeblood coated her tongue and shot through her like an illegal stimulant. Lightning sizzled through her body, making her muscles twitch and her skin tighten until she thought it might split. Inside, the wolf howled, wanting out.

Oh, God. With a muffled cry, she scrambled off Trance. Her breath came in ragged puffs, and her hands shook. Trance was staring at her like she'd already grown fangs.

“No blood play, I guess,” she said, hoping she sounded a lot more casual than she felt, hoping to hell he didn't notice the tremor in her voice or the fact that she'd been about to turn into a monster. There was a reason she left blood play to other staff members.

“Not into that.”

Quickly, she released him and scooted as far away as possible. “You need to go. And don't come back.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “But—”

“Don't.” She hugged herself tightly, as though to keep her other half contained. “Submission isn't in your DNA. You want to try, you find some other Dom to help you, because my way will take you places you don't want to go. Now get out.” She bit her lip and then added, “Stop at the medic room on the way out and have them look at your scratches.”

Surprisingly, he didn't argue, merely dressed, though he didn't button up his shirt. Probably because he was still bleeding. He moved toward the door, but paused at the threshold to look back over his shoulder. “You don't want this.”

“I know.” She blinked. Why had she just said that? Of course she wanted this, wanted him to leave and never come back. So why did she suddenly not want it? She shook her head, trying to clear it, and when she looked at the door, Trance was gone.

BOOK: Taming the Fire
9.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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