Vampire Instinct (55 page)
Authors: Joey W Hill
Tags: #Vampires, #Horror, #Paranormal, #General, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Erotic Fiction, #Erotica, #Fiction, #Occult & Supernatural
Even after ten days of intense training, she could still stumble on such a bald declaration. But he was relentless, and she’d realized quickly that it was more than his desire to have her properly prepared. She was his first fully marked servant, and he was exploring this side of his vampire nature, stirred from dormancy to sudden, full, raging life. He’d explored it with great creativity, until she’d assured herself anything that happened in Florida would pall in comparison.
It was a reassuring lie, of course, because it would be far different to have him do these things to her in front of strangers, or worse, be touched by others when she was under his command. However, she was going to handle it fine. She’d accept no other outcome.
She was already wet. She worried she would drip on the floor tonight, not wearing any undergarments. Particularly if he kept teasing her like this throughout the evening.
Vampires like that, Irish flower. We like smelling your arousal, knowing it’s so strong that your honey is trickling down your lovely thigh, over your calf. Even in a room full of servants, I’ll be able to tell the arousal is yours.
When he pressed harder against her, she lifted her hips to him, stroking her damp center against his full length, despite the irritating boundary of cloth. But she’d learned. She kept her hands on his upper arms, knowing it was up to him what he wanted her to do. He might command her to lift her skirt, or do it himself, as he did now. Using one hand to bunch the fabric, he pulled it up to her abdomen, curving his body off of her with a ripple of muscle to accommodate it.
I’m going to fuck you now, Elisa. Leisurely, deep, and take my time with it. I’m going to eventually come, but you will not. If you think at any point you can’t hold back any longer, you tell me, because I do not want you to come. I want you so close to it you’re about to lose your mind, but that is all.
Oh, if that was all. It was a desperate, wry thought. She was already hot through and through, because that had been part of the training as well, such that she could become wet and ready for him with barely more than a command to do so. At the same time, she could hold back. Based on his training, she could straddle the line of near dying from the desire to come, and an incurable hunger to please his every desire. His pleasure at her obedience was as much nourishment for her soul as her blood was to his body.
Finding out that such a carnal ability to serve was directly connected to her concentrated desire to serve in more mundane ways had been a revelation for her. In their quiet discussions after such intense lovemaking, he’d pointed out things in her nature that had been there all along. He believed that Lady Constance had seen them as well, explaining why she’d taken Elisa in, knowing she’d be a treasure in a vampire’s household. Knowing that didn’t offend her; if anything, it somehow made her feel even more connected to the one place she’d considered home. And she guessed her lack of offense just reinforced what they’d all known about her.
He pushed into her now, that wetness easing his way, though she gave a tiny little groan, because he was extremely thick this evening. He wasn’t rough, but he was rough enough, insisting and making her work her hips up and back to accommodate him until she was gasping at that friction. He pulled open her blouse so he could see the thrust of her breasts toward him, the way the aroused nipples pushed against the thin fabric of the decorative bra.
When he was settled to the hilt, his hips pressing her thighs wide, she let her gaze course up his chest, to the finely molded shoulders and corded neck, the dark hair falling over his forehead, emphasizing those severe cheekbones and stern lips, the dark eyes that made her think of arcane starless skies.
I want to touch you, Master. May I?
Whatever you wish to drive your arousal higher.
She wanted to torture herself, and so she did, sliding her hands from his arms, lingering on the slope of his back, down to the firm buttocks, digging her fingers in there, kneading to pleasure herself with the feel of him driving deeper, withdrawing, then flexing to drive in again. Her kneading began to match his rhythm, her heels overlapping her wrists to let him drive in deeper. He wrenched another cry from her throat as he bent and suckled her right nipple through the satin cloth. Letting her feel the press of fangs through it, he went still, not puncturing or tearing it. The moist heat of his breath, the slow circle of his tongue over her jutting nipple, enhanced the sensation.
No, no . . .
It wasn’t a protest; it was proof of how helpless he was making her, such that she had to admonish herself to hold on. She didn’t want to stop anything he was doing, but she knew he was going to test her to her limit. Already, her body was coiled so tight, a ravenous creature whose hunger was being denied.
It wasn’t a protest; it was proof of how helpless he was making her, such that she had to admonish herself to hold on. She didn’t want to stop anything he was doing, but she knew he was going to test her to her limit. Already, her body was coiled so tight, a ravenous creature whose hunger was being denied.
Obey me, sweet Elisa. You serve my pleasure, not your own. Let me see you tremble and flush, so close to climax, your pussy already gripping me as if it will never let go.
He was as good as his word, being slow and leisurely about it all, giving the other nipple the same attention as her nails dug into his arse, moving up to claw his lower back as he became more insistent, as he drew his strokes down to slow glides. He murmured to her, growled at her, worked up to harder thrusts, now pumping into her faster, and she gripped him even more, giving him a tight, slick fist he couldn’t resist, knowing she was cheating somewhat, but she didn’t want to fail him, and she wanted to see his pleasure.
Of course he slowed down again, commanded her not to grip him with those devilish internal muscles, and built her up again until she was crying out on every stroke, a wail of tormented need that gave his eyes those flickers of crimson and had his fangs bared when at last he released into her.
Oh God . . .
She couldn’t resist that. As those streams jetted into her, bathing all those sensitive tissues, she couldn’t stop herself. She let out a strangled cry of warning, straining with all she was to stop her reaction, the climax hitting her wall of control like a battering ram.
She couldn’t resist that. As those streams jetted into her, bathing all those sensitive tissues, she couldn’t stop herself. She let out a strangled cry of warning, straining with all she was to stop her reaction, the climax hitting her wall of control like a battering ram.
He used that speed again, unexpectedly. In a blink, her mouth, open on a cry, was being nudged wider. He thrust his cock in there, his knees straddling her shoulders, holding her down. She strangled on a stuttering scream when, with his other hand, he thrust several cubes of ice directly inside of her. The ice had been left in a bucket by the bed, and now he held another piece against her clit as well, that one diabolical hand sealing in the overwhelming sensation. He kept ramming into her mouth, still coming. He’d left a small patter of drops across her belly; she felt them, even as she took those further expulsions of hot seed on her tongue. He tasted of salt and metallic blood, the unique semen of a vampire.
Pulling out, he gripped the base of his cock and milked out the last flood before her eyes, a white viscous fluid over the generous rise of her breasts. He spread it with the tip of his cock, rubbing himself over her as his body shuddered one last time. She could smell him there, right under her nose, and she already knew he wouldn’t allow her to bathe. He’d want her to have that scent on her all night, that primal male marking. Lord Marshall would detect it immediately.
She had no room for shame. She was fair writhing with the excruciating feel of the ice melting inside of her and the piece he still held against her clit. Having her climax aborted so abruptly left her with a peculiar feeling of volatility. She’d do anything he wanted her to, just to gain release. It didn’t matter whom they’d be with tonight; she’d bend herself over his dinner plate and let him rut on her. She’d even take Lord Marshall’s cock in her mouth at the same time, if it was the proper, guestlike thing to do.
As she lifted her lashes to gaze up at him with greedy eyes, his eyes gleamed with a mixture of reactions, but she received the most important message from it. That was exactly the state of mind he’d intended her to be in. He didn’t want her to be afraid or anxious.
You serve me, Elisa. That’s all you need to worry about.
She managed a nod, still gasping, and let out another short scream as he teased the ice inside of her with one probing finger. He had his cock back in her mouth, his other hand sliding along her jaw, caressing the stretch of her lips around him. Though replete, his cock had not yet softened, because he often didn’t, as long as her breath and moist heat could hold him like this.
“We’ll let that melt,” he said softly. “Then you’ll help me get dressed, and we’ll take care of that spanking. Servants stand at dinner, so I won’t have the pleasure of seeing you squirm on a sore backside. But I’m sure we’ll more than make up for it.”
Then, despite all that, his eyes darkened. Pulling out and sliding down so he lay on her body, he caught her mouth in a hot, deep kiss. His fingers curled under her neck, spearing into her disheveled hair.
Follow my lead, Elisa, and trust me. I’ll take care of you.
Follow my lead, Elisa, and trust me. I’ll take care of you.
33
T
HERE was quite a difference in a dinner out in the middle of Western Australia and one here, in easy reach of everything needed to make it fancy. Even at the Pearlmuttons, she’d never seen anything like this. Lord Marshall had amassed more wealth than Elisa thought was possible. As she and Mal passed the dining room, she glimpsed a small army of servants at work and a long table set with gleaming gold leaf china. The Persian rug stretched completely over the dining room floor. A large chandelier made up of crystal teardrops and blown glass shaped like tulips hung low over the table. She expected the servant who changed out the bulbs inside those fragile things had to have a delicate touch.
HERE was quite a difference in a dinner out in the middle of Western Australia and one here, in easy reach of everything needed to make it fancy. Even at the Pearlmuttons, she’d never seen anything like this. Lord Marshall had amassed more wealth than Elisa thought was possible. As she and Mal passed the dining room, she glimpsed a small army of servants at work and a long table set with gleaming gold leaf china. The Persian rug stretched completely over the dining room floor. A large chandelier made up of crystal teardrops and blown glass shaped like tulips hung low over the table. She expected the servant who changed out the bulbs inside those fragile things had to have a delicate touch.
A classical music piece drifted down the hallway from the open door of the solarium. It made her miss the crackle of Kohana’s radio and his penchant for accompanying Negro spirituals in his rough baritone. Of course, that longing might be because her nerves were knocked awry. One of the efficient household staff had just informed Mal their dinner party had expanded.
Two additional vampire guests had arrived at dusk, members of Lord Marshall’s territory. Though the housemaid made it clear it was a last-minute decision by Lord Marshall, Elisa still felt remiss in her duties, particularly when Mal tensed at the news. However, as he escorted her to the main level of the house, his hand slid across her lower back, a brief touch of reassurance, and she knew he wasn’t angry at her.
She told herself it was just as well. If they’d known ahead of time, she would have worried pointlessly over it. Despite that bit of practicality, a flood of apprehension filled her as they drew closer to the solarium and she heard the voices of the other guests as they enjoyed pre-dinner cocktails. Mal stopped her in the hallway then, brought her back against his full body, lowering his head to nuzzle her throat, a one-touch reminder of all he’d done to her over the past hour. It brought all her unreleased passion surging forward, a tidal wave to obliterate that flood. Her nipples hardened, her body softened against his, and he made a quiet noise of approval.
You can do this, Irish flower. You serve me. Keep remembering that.
That, and the fact they were here for the fledglings. She firmed her chin, and her resolve.
As they continued down the hallway, a house servant slipped out of Lord Marshall’s private study, several doors before the solarium entry. The servant left the door cracked, giving Mal and Elisa a direct view of the room’s occupants.
The woman who must be Nadia sat in a man’s deep reading chair, perhaps where Lord Marshall liked to read the paper at night. She had her legs drawn up, arms folded over her body. Despite the coiled position, her mother, Latriska, was brushing her hair, but Nadia might have been a doll. Her gaze was on the fire in the fireplace, seemingly unnecessary because of the Florida heat, but she was painfully thin and shivering, with a wrap over her shoulders.
A tall, handsome man—Lord Marshall, for Elisa couldn’t imagine it would be anyone else—briefly bent to lay a kiss on the top of her head. Her eyes closed. When he bent farther, moving to her lips, she visibly flinched, turning her face away.
Elisa drew in a breath, for Lord Marshall straightened and noticed them there. Nadia’s refusal was an act no vampire could let pass, not and save face in front of others of his kind. She wished they’d gone another way to the dining area. But Elisa’s regard for Mal increased tenfold then. Before Lord Marshall could decide how to react, her Master stepped closer to the door, drawing Elisa with him and putting his hand on the door latch to widen it slightly, yet maintain their privacy with the block of his body in front of the opening.
“My lord, it’s a terrible thing to lose a child,” he murmured. “Perhaps later, Elisa could sit with Nadia. She has a gift for bringing light into the most soul-sick heart.”
He hadn’t tried to pretend he hadn’t seen it, or awkwardly changed the topic. He’d met it head-on, with quiet compassion. And Lord Marshall, his hand still resting on Nadia’s shoulder, showed how deeply he appreciated it when the vampire’s typical dispassionate mien dropped briefly. Elisa saw a haggard male, uncertain how to comfort a female who obviously meant a great deal to him.
Mal courteously pulled the door closed and they continued down the hallway toward the solarium. It was a dilemma Elisa couldn’t imagine. Even after such a brief time as his full servant, she knew if Mal was in such a deep depression, she’d be in that same mire with him, because the bond was that strong. For a servant to turn so emphatically away from the touch of her Master, when the physical passion was so constant and undeniable, was a strong indicator of how trapped Nadia was in the tragedy of losing three unborn babies. But the whole vampireservant link required her to accept her Master’s will, physically and emotionally.
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