Vampire Mistress (42 page)

“Next time she wants to do something, and I’m not sure about it, I’ll ask you. Not a permission thing, mind you. But it’d be stupid not to use the resources at hand. You know, to help her the best way possible.”

Daegan moved. He didn’t come forward fast, but there was a deliberateness to his steps that made Gideon wary. He stopped with a foot between them. Those intense dark eyes bored into Gideon’s, and as usual, he had to steel himself not to step back . . . or quell the inexplicable desire to move forward. “You damn well better,” the vampire said softly. But his tone was milder, and from what Gideon read in those usually so secretive eyes, he decided not to get riled about it.

“You know, your responsibilities as sire aside, if you took advantage of soap and toothpaste, she might be nicer to you. You know how women are.”

Daegan showed fangs. “Sometimes I think nothing penetrates that rock head of yours.”

“I know the difference between the things you believe and the things you feel.” Hell, he was more practiced at it than most. Gideon could tell himself that guilt or a sense of honor was why he’d stayed throughout all of this. Why not? He’d been lying to himself so long, it had a comforting consistency to it. If he lied to himself, he wouldn’t have to face the truth about anything. The same way that, by telling himself he needed to be her sire, Daegan could just switch off his feelings for Anwyn.

The vampire gave him a curious look, his focus apparently shifting. “You should bear me ill will for the third-marking, but you don’t.”

“No more ill will than usual.” Gideon shrugged. “You rushed the decision we both knew I was going to make. Whether it’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life, we’ll know soon enough. But this way, if I regret it, I can blame you instead of myself, right? So a win-win, as far as I’m concerned.”

Daegan’s lips tugged. “What is she doing?” he asked quietly.

Gideon focused, and a muscle worked in his jaw. “Sitting on the edge of the tub, having a good cry. Giving herself hell for crying.” He paused. “She’s hurting, Daegan. She needs you.”

“She despises me. That’s for the best.”

“No, she doesn’t. And no, it isn’t. You told me she’s the bravest person you know. Trust her to use the intelligence that goes with it. She’s beating herself up now, about you and me, and herself. She needs the other side of your sword now. The gentler side.” Gideon spoke gruffly. “Hell, I wasn’t completely unconscious during the marking. She couldn’t see your face; I could. It tore your heart out to do what you did. Go see her, Daegan. I’ll go hang out somewhere. She’s in her room.”

“Don’t think you can order me around, vampire hunter.” But Daegan gave him a light shove that took him back a step or two. “Go into my closet and get an extra shirt for when you ruin that one. That pungent T-shirt you were wearing earlier is mildewing. On your next outing, plan on buying a dozen of your $1.99 special tees.”

Gideon gave him a sardonic look, flipped him off. “Still trying to do some of that ordering shit yourself. Piss off.” But he went to the closet, because Daegan was right. This T-shirt was getting rank as well.

“Stay away from my dress shirts, though,” Daegan called out. “They cost more than you’re worth.”

“Yeah, right.” Out of sight in the walk-in, Gideon peered at the rows of mostly dark clothing, a function of the vampire’s profession, he was sure, versus a macabre Goth vamp fashion sense. For just a moment, he imagined Daegan stepping in behind him while Gideon stood amid the masculine aroma of his clothes, amid the cool shadows. Anwyn would come in, and they’d surround him, none of them giving a damn who was in control, as long as they could touch and be touched . . .

Son of a bitch. He popped his neck painfully when he gave himself a sharp shake, and yanked the nearest tee off a rack. He stepped out, needing to get clear of that intimate territory of Daegan’s clothes. But when he stripped off his current shirt and began to shrug on the new one, Daegan stepped forward, arresting Gideon’s motion.

Before Gideon could draw away, he’d hooked his fingers in the neck of the T-shirt, pulled it down far enough to his left so that he could pass his fingers over the top of the scarlet teardrop mark.

“Interesting. It’s always different.”

His gaze flickered up to Gideon’s face. For one, weighted moment, the touch Gideon was pretty sure Daegan had intended so casually felt intensely intimate. He froze, not sure what the hell to do with that, and wondered why he wasn’t jerking away. Maybe because they’d dealt with so much these past few days, moving away from any touch that wasn’t hostile seemed impossible, the way cockroaches and marsh grass looked appetizing if no other food was available.

Yeah, that explains it.
In addition to the words that fell out of his mouth now, like the drool that came with severe brain damage.

“What you said, about your loyalty being to her before the Council. I believe you.”

Daegan released him from the intense eye contact and withdrew his hand as well, giving him a short, brusque nod of acknowledgment. “Nothing is more important to me than her,” he murmured, his tone suggesting it was meant more for himself than for Gideon’s ears. “I should have done things, handled many things, better, but I will put nothing before her. If I’d done that before, this never would have happened.”

When he gestured them to a nook in the corner that held two chairs and a table, Gideon took one of the seats, leaning forward. “You know that’s different.”

“A lot of things are different.” A flash of bleak acceptance went through Daegan’s eyes, the first real vulnerability Gideon had seen him reveal, but then it was gone, so quickly he doubted he’d seen it. “I’m not going to leave you without backup,” the vampire continued, his quiet tone replaced by a purposeful one. “During one of her recuperations, you spoke of Lord Brian. His work is not unknown to me—his paper about difficult transitions was how I knew to administer the sire’s blood more frequently. Though he works under the sponsorship of the Council, I believe he has a peculiar loyalty to Lady Lyssa that will ensure his discretion. Would you agree?”

At Gideon’s curious nod, Daegan made a grunt of approval. “Then I have an idea I want to discuss with you.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Good. Because you need to know some other things. Things I’ll tell Anwyn as well, but I need to be sure you’re prepared for what I’m going to do before I bring her into it. And once we’re done here, you will go to her, Gideon. Not me. You’re who she needs. From here forward.”

26

A
NWYN sat at the desk in her bedroom, studying her computer screen with detached interest. She’d thought, once she’d dressed, this might help her focus a little better. But she’d quickly caught up on her e-mail requests, because the day she’d lost had been Sunday, the day Atlantis was closed.

She should be irritated by that, feeling useless, but she was discovering something about being a vampire. When nothing debilitating was occurring, like seizures or bloodlust, she could sense things she’d never been able to before. There was a cricket chirping somewhere in her apartments, and she could hear the movement of his legs, knew almost his exact location with her enhanced hearing and an intuitive, predatory sense.

Daegan was in his room, taking a shower. Gideon was headed toward her. She could have tuned in to both of their minds, but while Gideon was with Daegan, she’d had an admittedly petulant need not to listen in, not to hear what they were saying. So though she couldn’t completely close that link, she’d put enough of a damper on it that their conversation was just a male rumbling of noise in the back of her mind.

Of course, she’d gotten impatient with their conversation and wanted Gideon back. Was it that vampires had a less-developed sense of conscience, or that their appetites were so unapologetic they overrode everything else, including the fact she’d nearly killed him a day before? Or did she merely need the validation of the avenue she’d so often used before she became a vampire?

Daegan had told her so much about how vampires interacted, how they shared their servants. This compulsion of hers, so natural to her BDSM world, was an integral part of theirs. It was a startling revelation, but she was painfully aware Gideon had been part of neither. She remembered his charming offer to have coffee with him, take a different path. Now, if he wanted to keep being with her, he’d have no other choice but to be part of a BDSM world. Of course, he’d likely have less trouble with that than being part of a vampire one.

That wasn’t something that would resolve itself today. She wanted Gideon with her now, wanted to do more than trace that trinity mark with her fingers. Despite reputed vampire healing abilities, the tender tissues between her legs still ached, and she didn’t think it lingered from Daegan’s sensual abuse. If anything, she was throbbing for far different reasons. Her mind wanted to reach for him. Wanted to reach for them both, but she’d settle for half her desires. When Gideon knocked lightly, the dangerous leap in response was enough to tighten her hands on the desk edge.

Come in. And come here.

He did, glancing immediately toward her, because of course he would know her whereabouts. They were linked permanently. Irrevocably.

“Come here,” she repeated aloud.

She saw more in his face, an unspoken message, something he wanted her to know, something that didn’t have to do with this moment. But right now she needed, wanted, only this moment, so she stayed out of his mind. And when he would have spoken, she shook her head.

“Be still,” she murmured. “And quiet. Just obey me.”
Take off the shirt.

He arched a brow, but came to her, tossing the shirt to the side and moving with that warrior’s stride that seemed somewhat hampered when he was inside. As if he needed enough space, like a weapons room or gymnasium, to exercise all the power he demonstrated in a simple walk. He and Daegan both had that. When he reached her, she indulged herself. Moving down his chest, she touched that trinity mark for the first time, a quiver of sweet possession coursing through her, and a hard shudder passing over him, their eyes locking for a brief, vulnerable moment.
Hers.

She spread out from there, running her hands over the flat pectorals, the tight nipples, the hard abdomen, the broad shoulders. As she did, he closed his eyes, savoring her touch. Taking her hand down past his waistband, she covered his erection, the curve of his testicles that filled out that area of his jeans so well. She slipped the button, took the zipper down one tooth at a time, caressed him through the boxer briefs. He was hot and hard steel already. “Take it all off now.”

He backed away so he wasn’t looming over her, and pulled off his boots. Then the rest of it, so he stood tall and powerful, completely naked.

“Stay right there.”

He did, but she could tell it made him self-conscious. He was a battle-scarred warrior with deep lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth, lines that only made him look more ruggedly handsome in that hateful way men had. They might be envious, but women enjoyed the benefit of looking. His cock was brushing his belly, a temptation all by itself.

“Turn,” she commanded softly. “I want to see the back.”

He swallowed, tensing a little, but he complied, shifting so he was standing in a half-cocked stance she could almost imagine as his standard pose, thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans. He’d be scowling. She suppressed a smile, but her chest was tight, looking at him.

She’d built a world around herself that was about consensual ownership, submission. There were couples at her club in a twenty-four/seven D/s relationship, the submissive completely contracted to the Dom in whatever arrangement suited their different needs best. She’d never found that, never found the man who made her crave that ownership.

Daegan was a different animal. Falling in love with him had been entirely unexpected, since he was as Dominant as Dominant could get and not be Attila the Hun reincarnated. He’d given her that sense of safety, as she’d told Gideon, each time she was with him. Something had challenged that safety and now everything was uncertain. But looking at Gideon, his trust in her, she wondered for the first time if it could be mended. If Daegan and she could find their way, not back to where they’d been, but someplace they’d never gone together.

“Step backward until you’re between my knees.” She adjusted her seated position so her knees were spread.

When he obeyed, she thought, if she had her way, she’d always keep him like this, where she could see that powerful interplay of muscles and sinew along his upper torso, the movement of his hips and lean thighs that said he was a very physical man, one who might have all sorts of debris going on in his head and heart, but who had no hesitation or qualms when it came to fighting or protecting what he considered his to protect.

His muscular ass, the lean thighs, were now right before her. She ran her hands up his thighs.

“Spread your legs out wider.”

He did, and her fingers closed on his testicles, hanging heavy between his legs, earning a guttural sound from him. There was a mirrored wall across from her, so she could see him right here, saw the jump in his cock, the breath he held. It was still a shock not to see herself there, but she liked the fact he couldn’t see what was going on in her face.

“Daegan tells me that a servant keeps his Mistress’s hair styled just right, puts her makeup on perfectly. Given how you keep your hair, I expect I may need to hire a very discreet lady’s maid.”

“Jesus.” He was having a bit of trouble speaking in a steady tone, and she loved it, the effect her touch had on him. “You don’t need any makeup. You’re beautiful the way you are now.”

“Charmer.” She squeezed his balls, and earned another exhalation of breath. She ran her other hand over the globe of one buttock, dragged her nails down it, then leaned forward and bit.

He jumped slightly, but she gave him credit for holding relatively still. She wasn’t trying to drink blood, but she did lick the few drops that welled forth. She liked biting him, liked sinking into that muscular flesh.

“Turn around,” she whispered.

He did, and there was his cock, stretched out long and tempting. “What would you do if I bit it the same way, sank my fangs into it?”

“I’d say there are other, better things you could do with it.”

“Mmm. Maybe. You’d look very handsome with a ladder, Gideon. Barbells pierced all the way up the underside of your cock, perhaps a permanent steel collar latched around the base of the head and at the root. I could carry a key to it, so you’d always wear the symbol of my ownership.”

“Kind of like going-steady rings?” He tried to sound flippant, but the moment he said it, she saw something dark cross his expression, a shadow he apparently hadn’t meant to call forth. His expression was briefly seized with an old pain. She didn’t pull back that curtain, willing to give him his memories unmolested.

“Something like that.” She rose, pointed. “Lie down on my retiring couch, on your back. I’m going to ride you, Gideon.” She arched a brow at his feeling of relief, desire. “But I’m not going to let you come. You need to know that. I’m going to leave you hard and suffering for a while, thinking of my wet pussy.”

“What if I come anyway?” He met her gaze in challenge, and she raised a brow. Having him standing before her this way, hard, hot and hungry, so much bigger than she was, was a temptation that affected her all over, heating her blood.

“Then I’d say you’re not a very smart man, because there are other ways I can make you suffer.” But she lowered her voice, softened it. “Trust me, Gideon. Denying yourself for a Mistress’s pleasure is worth the wait.”

He nodded after a long moment, cleared his throat. “Guess I’m just used to the instant gratification, in case I’m dead an hour later, or tomorrow.”

“I’ll endeavor to make sure you come before our next brush with death.” She said it lightly, though she found she didn’t like the reminder of how often he’d been close to it. And not just from the danger she’d posed to him. While she’d never seen Daegan at work, so to speak, Daegan’s supernatural abilities, his sheer command of every situation, mundane or otherwise, had been her comfort during his absences. But she’d still worried, knowing from his blood consumption when he returned that he’d been wounded in different skirmishes, even if the entry wound had healed by the time he’d returned. Had he gotten any blood, these past twenty-four hours? She remembered that she’d intended to have Gideon help her nag him into it . . . before.

“Gideon”—her gaze went to his face, demanding truth—“I assume, while you’re with me, you’re not going to be hunting vampires. Am I wrong to have that assumption?” As she asked, she closed her hand over his cock, started stroking it in a long, practiced pull, enjoying the weight and heat of it in her hand.

His voice was thick. “I think I’ll be a little busy with you and Daegan for a while.”

It was strange to have this growing sense of protectiveness . . . of forever, filling her when it came to him. She remembered how he’d said,
I know what she’ll become
. He’d known this sense of ownership would grow inside of her, but did he understand what fiercely tender emotions attended that same problematic instinct? It reassured her, to feel that something she liked had been enhanced by her vampire transition, not twisted or destroyed by it.

“Lie down on the couch,” she repeated. “Put your hands over your head, gripping the arm of the couch. You won’t let go unless I tell you to do so.”

One of her favorite things as a Mistress was watching the struggle of a strong man to submit, the expressions that would cross his face, the flash in his eyes. But Gideon eventually moved to obey, stretching his long, powerful body out, his arms lifting, the muscles rolling smoothly across his abdomen and chest, biceps curving up as he reached over his head and held on to the couch arm, opening himself to whatever she desired.

She put a knee on the couch and slid astride him. She wasn’t wearing underwear under the skirt. While she’d finally washed, she knew that some residual seed from Daegan had to still be in there. What she was sliding over Gideon’s cock might be a combination of hers and Daegan’s fluids. It aroused her to think it, and she wondered if it had crossed Gideon’s mind as well. He groaned, lifting his hips, but she tightened on him, digging her fingers into his chest.

“No. Don’t move, not a muscle. See if you can obey that simple command.”

She knew there was nothing simple about it. His eyes remained glued to her, his body getting progressively tighter as she impaled herself on him. All the way down, then a slow rise up, like a carousel when it first started turning. His hands gripped the couch with his need as she stroked him with her interior muscles. She devoured every expression, every muscle shifting beneath her, even as she gauged with a practiced eye how close he was to climaxing despite her command not to do so.

“If you come, you’ll take whatever punishment I require. That’s the price for you coming now.” She gave him an additional squeeze and he growled, his blue eyes fastened on her face, the expanse of neck down to the swell of soft cleavage over the top of her V-neck shirt. Her skirt lay over his legs, so he couldn’t see any part of her except what was clothed, could only feel her pussy sucking on him with each slow drag upward, and deep penetration downward.

“I want to touch you.”

“Not this time. Your Mistress wants to pleasure herself on your cock, and that’s all she wants from you. You’re so goddamn sexy,” she purred, stroking his chest, reaching back and cupping his balls beneath her once again, squeezing. “And your cock would satisfy any woman. But right now, it’s all mine. Say, ‘Yes, Mistress.’”

His eyes were definitely glazed, so he said it automatically, his voice strangled. “Yes, Mistress. Oh God, I can’t—stop.”

She stopped. “What’s it going to be, Gideon? Do you want to come now, and take my punishment?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Shit, yes. Whatever. Let me . . .”

“Beg me, Gideon. Ask me to let you come.”

He struggled with it, even where he was now, her strong alpha male, but the body wanted what it wanted, and it was the best way to overcome reservations. “Please, Mistress. Let me come.”

“And you’ll let me punish you, welcome that punishment?”

“Yes, fuck. Please. I want to come inside of you.”

“All right. Remain utterly still while I come, and then you may come.”

Two strokes, and the raging need that had been quivering in her voice gushed forth, her clit spasming against his pubic bone. His gaze followed the flush across her chest and up her throat, and she felt the heat of his regard when she threw her head back and cried out, her fingers digging into his chest. Then, when she called out breathlessly, “Now,” his body shuddered, every muscle turning to gleaming rock. The ridges of his abdomen stood out with the strain, his face in a rictus of pleasure as his seed exploded within her, hot streams along her channel. He made a strangled groan, and she was overwhelmed by his control, the fact that while he quivered like a man with a fever, he didn’t lift one limb, or even lift his hips off the couch. Just shuddered and came, in a way that had her body tightening anew.