Velvet Cataclysm: Princes of the Underground, Book 1

by BETH KERY

  He slowly opened his eyes and pinned her with his stare.

  “I’m sorry. I was taking from you. I didn’t mean to. I don’t know why…”

  She craned up with her head, her dark brows knitted together on her damp forehead. “Of course you were taking from me, Saint. We were making love. That’s what it’s about.” She glanced down at his thick erection. “Besides, I gave you nothing compared to what you gave me. Saint… Stop looking at me like that. I’d sure like to talk to this guy, Kavya, if he’s the one who taught you about making love. That guy’s got a real screw loose.”

  “Kavya’s got nothing to do with it. I’ve been having sex for five hundred and ninety-six years, Christina. I would think I know a thing or two about it,” he said irritably as he panted, trying to get a handle on what had just happened. He couldn’t comprehend how he could have lost control when he was so sure he wouldn’t have. Why had he felt the need to absorb Christina’s vitessence when he wasn’t even hungry?

  She tugged in rising frustration on the silk scarf. “Will you untie me, please? I want to touch you.”

  He just studied her for several seconds while his mind churned. Despite his mental turmoil, he couldn’t help but appreciate the flush on her naked skin, her heaving breasts, and spread, suspended legs. Gods, it’d felt so good to drown himself in her.

  His cock lurched up from his thigh.

  “Saint?”

  “All right,” he said finally as he reached for the knotted scarf. “Maybe you’re right. I’m the one who needs to be restrained here, not you.”

  As soon as Saint unbound her, Christina reached for him. The fact that he restricted her worship of his lean, muscular body and smooth skin made her exponentially more excited every time she touched him. This nonsense he kept uttering about regretting the hot, soulful manner in which he’d been making love to her made her want to scream.

  How could he regret something so elementally beautiful?

  She massaged the corded muscles of his neck and ran her fingers through the sweat-dampened hair at his nape. He must have expended a thousand calories, the way he’d been fucking her with so much delicious exuberance. It’d made her feel like a goddess to have him grow so wild at the experience of merging their flesh. If the sensation of his long cock probing deep, secret flesh hadn’t been enough for her to come repeatedly, she thought she might have climaxed from just witnessing his profound need.

  “Wanting someone…needing them…isn’t a sin, Saint,” she whispered as she met his fierce, blue-eyed gaze. She felt her heart sink, however, when he glanced away.

  “Maybe that’s true for you. For me, it’s the polar opposite of truth. Do you want to continue having sex, or not?”

  A pocket of restrained air flew past her lips. “Of course I want to continue. You make it sound so…mechanical. You’re not a robot. Stop acting like one!”

  His facial muscles pulled tight as he pulled back from her embrace. He sat at the edge of the bed, removing his boots and socks. He stood to shove his jeans off his long legs. Christina’s mouth went dry when she saw the two thongs that fit snugly beneath his muscular ass cheeks. She watched, mesmerized, as he untied two well-worn leather straps from a thigh dusted with golden brown hair. He moved with brisk economy—the actions performed by a man day in and day out until they were second nature.

  He turned in profile and Christina groaned. For some reason, the sight of the leather next to his naked skin and in such close proximity to the glistening, stiff rod of his cock, caused her clit to pinch in painful arousal. After he’d loosened the sheath from his left leg, he pulled the thong down his thighs and stepped out of it. He set the sheathed short sword on the bedside table and turned toward her.

  He seemed entirely unaware of her stunned state as she gawked at his magnificent body. He knelt on the bed to remove her ankles from the restraints. Christina bit her bottom lip, trying to still her mounting lust. It’d been so dark last night, she hadn’t really been able to savor him with her eyes. Seeing him like this—all that delineated muscle gloved by smooth, golden brown skin, his long, swollen cock, the weight of the head pulling down the stalk, his large, shaven testicles hanging like lush, ripe fruit—made her feel like she was in bed with a pagan fertility god of old.

  Too bad Saint’s strange ideas about sex seemed to parallel that of the wildly different nature of gods and humans.

  He once again sprawled across the bed and dug in his bedside table. This time she wasn’t quite so shocked when he extracted two leather wrist cuffs with sturdy-looking metal buckles and hooks attached. She sat up slowly as she watched him kneel on the bed, buckling a cuff around each of his wrists.

  “Saint…” she mumbled doubtfully when he tossed aside the pillows and sat at the edge of the bed, his back against the headboard.

  He glanced up at her before he resumed pulling two heavy straps up from the end of the mattress. Christina whimpered in rising arousal when she saw him matter-of-factly shift his penis from one thigh to the other while he affixed one strap at the top of his thigh. He did the same with the other. After he was done, she couldn’t unglue her eyes from the erotic site of the restraints highlighting his full testicles and swollen cock in a V of black leather. He stretched his arms out to the side.

  “Now attach my wrists to those,” he said, using his chin to indicate the metal hooks in the wall. He’d been so businesslike about the whole ordeal that Christina couldn’t help but be irritated.

  “What if I don’t want to?” she asked testily, even though it was a moronic question. She wanted to all right. She’d have to be brain-dead not to want unrestricted access to his beautiful body.

  His face fell. “Does it turn you off? The idea of restraining a male? I’m sorry—it’s not my thing either, really, but I have to keep control, Christina. It’s such a trial, wanting you as much as I do.”

  Her mouth had been open in preparation to protest until he said that last sentence, and she saw the uncertainty in his eyes. She told herself that the sight of his beautiful cock and balls cupped in supple leather had nothing to do with it. She’d never been into any type of bondage before and couldn’t figure out why the concept lit up all sorts forbidden pathways of excitement in her body. The idea of restraining Saint for her own personal consumption was just as exciting as it had been to have Saint tie her up and do the same to her.

  When she saw his questioning look after she’d restrained one muscular arm, she added, “It’s not that it turns me off. In fact, it’s…” She swallowed thickly as her gaze flickered down over the divine specimen of male flesh she’d just finished restraining to a sitting position on the bed. Downright triple-X hot, she couldn’t help finishing in her head.

  “You said you wanted to touch me, didn’t you? You’ll be able to bring us both pleasure this way. I won’t be as likely to take from you.”

  “Saint.” Tears of exasperation sprung to her eyes. “Whatever I give you, I give you freely.”

  His angular claw clenched, and she knew instinctively he didn’t want to argue with her. She shook her head, but her eyes remained glued to the awesome sight of his naked abdomen. Before she knew what she’d planned, her lips were rubbing against a fascinating landscape of delineated muscle and smooth skin. Her lips and cheeks became her instruments of knowledge as she explored him slowly, her eyes closed in suspended sensual gratification. When she tasted his skin with the tip of her tongue, running it over a ridge of taut muscle, he groaned roughly.

  Her hands joined in her mouth’s discovery. She found that he shivered when she scraped her front teeth against the sides of his ribcage and that he growled dangerously when she suckled his tiny copper-colored nipples to taut erection. The taste she gathered on her tongue with more and more frequency as she toured his chest and nibbled at succulent shoulder muscles and dense biceps was salt.

  She loved that she made Saint sweat.

  Her absorption was so complete that at first she didn’t hear him calling to her.
r />   “Stina!”

  His shout finally pierced her intoxication. She blinked heavily and looked up at him. He pulled tight on his wrist restraints, making every muscle on his arm, shoulders and chest bulge. She shivered. His eyes seemed to glow preternaturally in the dimly lit room, a blatant reminder that she was definitely not in bed with a human male.

  “Suck on my cock.”

  Christina blinked, realizing she was bending down to his lap when she’d never told herself to move. She glared up at him.

  “Don’t you dare pull that thing on me.”

  “What thing?” he asked blandly.

  “That mind-control thing.”

  He shook his head slowly. “As if it’d do me a bit of good to use my ascendancy on you.”

  Christina swallowed thickly, unsure what to make of the rich resonance of his tone.

  She rose to a kneeling position and straddled his hips. She brought her face to an inch of his and rubbed her breasts against his chest, using the light coat of sweat on both of their bodies to slide their nipples together. When he curled his lip, she expected to see an elongated incisor. The evidence of his restraint caused her to seal her belly to his ribs. She moved her hips in a tight, circular motion, writhing against him, her opened pussy perched just inches from his lap. His nostrils flared and she wondered if he could feel her heat on his cock. She thought she got her answer when his erection batted her on the bottom.

  “I have made myself vulnerable to you. This is how you would treat me?” he accused, his brows arching up wryly.

  “You’re about as vulnerable as a caged lion. Are you saying you’re not enjoying this?” she whispered.

  “As much as anyone enjoys torture,” he replied gruffly, his gaze glued on her mouth.

  She leaned down and brushed his lips with her own in a whisper-soft caress. His penis popped against her ass again.

  “It’s only torture if it doesn’t end,” she whispered. He leaned in to consume her mouth, his arms stretching behind him. But Christina moved quickly, dropping her head to his lap. He hissed a curse; his body jerked against the restraints. She might have been teasing him, but in truth, his expression of profound need left her heart sore.

  She picked up his swollen erection and studied his naked length in fascinated lust. A stream of pre-come leaked from the slit, wetting the succulent cap. She licked it hungrily. Her tongue traced a few blue, turgid veins. She stretched her jaw wide and vacuumed him into her mouth.

  His indrawn breath across his teeth made a hissing sound.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Saint watched her head moving in his lap through narrowed eyes. He groaned as she slid another inch of his cock along her tongue, her jaw creating a strong clamp around him, her suck sublime. Fellatio being the primary manner in which he took sexual satisfaction, Saint immediately recognized innate talent for the skill. Christina possessed it in as much abundance as her other gifts.

  When she fearlessly worked past her gag reflex and squeezed the tip of his cock into her throat, he felt his incisors lengthen. He clamped his eyes shut. It infuriated him that he had so little control. Christina began sucking him long, rapid, and deep, her exuberance making it impossible to focus on anything but the dizzying, electrifying thrill-ride she treated his cock to.

  Gods, it felt good. He imagined their positions being reversed, saw her restrained to the bed while he plunged his aching cock between her lush lips again and again. It was his preferred manner of oral gratification…to be in total control of his pleasure. What had he been thinking giving up what little power he had in this situation?

  She sucked even harder, pistoning his aching, throbbing flesh between her lips at a pace that made his eyes roll back in his head. She’d desensitized her throat sufficiently to take the tip of the head of his cock into the narrow, clasping channel on each forceful down stroke. He strained up wildly, the leather restraints biting at the flesh of his thighs.

  “Christina, stop.”

  When she continued to consume him like he was her last meal for weeks, he repeated his instructions with the full force of his ascendancy. It was true that his ascendant function worked inconsistently on her, but when she was distracted, he’d often been able to nudge her actions one way or another.

  He inhaled raggedly when she paused mid-staff on his cock. He sensed a sudden caution mixing with her pitched arousal.

  She resumed her relentless pace.

  He cursed and jerked viciously at his restraints. A crunching sound and a slight give in his right arm told him he’d just cracked the concrete-reinforced bolt. Christina flipped her long hair back and looked up at him with one wide, green eye, her red lips spread wide just beneath the head of his cock. She’d heard the concrete break as well.

  “I asked you to stop,” he growled.

  It shamed him to have to reveal to her that his incisors were extended in preparation to feed. Gods, this wasn’t going the way he’d hoped. Why did he still want to take from her—consume the essence of Christina—even after his hunger had been satisfied?

  Christina merely shook her head slightly and gave the head of his cock a few healthy swats with her tongue. He clenched his teeth in a mounting fury of need and flexed his hips, stretching the leather restraints on his thighs taut. Christina’s nostrils flared. She shifted slightly, the tight clamp of her lips bending his cock forward an inch or two. She maintained eye contact and slid his cock into her mouth slowly, knowing full well he watched every detail of his penis sinking between her stretched, reddened lips. Her tightly clamped fist followed the path of her pistoning mouth.

  “You little…” He growled and lunged mightily. The bolt gave in the cracked concrete. Christina paused in her torture. He saw her through a red and gold haze of pulsing, sparking vitessence.

  “Getting nervous?” he rasped between pants. A drop of sweat rolled down his abdomen. For a split second, regret flooded his awareness when he saw the anxiety in her gaze.

  But then he felt that brief shake of her head again. No. Her lips sunk.

  He roared and jerked his straining muscles. The bolt popped out of the wall. Again Christina paused. He barely could see her beautiful face through a red-tinged blur of lust, but he felt perfectly when she vacuumed his cock into the narrow channel of her throat.

  The haze completely overcame his vision.

  Christina’s heart pounded so loudly in her ears she distantly wondered if she’d have an aneurysm. Her excitement was sharper than it had ever felt, the sensation like a blade in her spirit, a sharp ache in her womb. She watched Saint’s bulging muscles flex yet again as the other bolt popped out of the wall, bringing a patch of drywall with it. She had no choice but to slide the head of his cock out of her mouth. Her lungs burned so badly from panting in arousal, she couldn’t catch her breath by merely breathing through her nose. Her cheek fell to his flexing thigh.

  She whimpered in anxiety and lust as she watched Saint hastily release the wrist cuffs and then the leather straps holding his thighs. She glanced up, catching a glimpse of the inferno raging in his blue eyes, before he lunged. He put his arm beneath her waist and, for a second, she was airborne. She barely had time to put her hands down, bracing herself to prevent a face plant on the mattress.

  He spread her thighs roughly and parted her buttocks. A cry of surprise popped out of her throat when he held one cheek tightly and spanked it several times. The brisk smacks on her flesh caused warm juice to surge out of her vagina.

  “Saint—” she began to protest. She was confused by the acute arousal she experienced from being spanked. But, he interrupted her by grabbing her other bottom cheek and landing several concentrated swats on it.

  “That’s what you get for teasing me, Christina,” he muttered once he’d made that buttock sting and tingle.

  She gasped when his long erection pressed between the crevice of her ass cheeks and along her spine. It felt like a hot, heavy, iron-hard poker sliding along her skin. He grabbed her hips and pressed her
to him tightly.

  “How dare you?” he seethed. “You’re a little girl playing with fire.”

  “No,” she retorted between pants of burning air. “I’m a woman giving pleasure to her lover. What’s wrong? Can’t you take a challenge?”

  He didn’t move or speak for an eternal second.

  His cock lurched in the crack of her ass. “Challenge? You want a challenge?” he roared. He shifted his hips and pressed his cock to her slit. Air exploded out of her lungs when he thrust into her. Before she had time to recover from that fierce possession, he was pounding his cock into her pussy. She keened shakily as wave after wave of sensation crashed into her.

  He pressed the back of her head, forcing her down so that only her bottom remained sticking up in the air. She turned her hot cheek onto the comforter as he grabbed her hips and served her flesh to his ravenous cock again and again. The strident smacks of their crashing bodies, the bang of the headboard against the wall, and Saint’s grunts of pleasure all blended into a rich carnal symphony in her lust-addled brain.

  Her facial muscles tightened in a convulsion of pleasure. She didn’t need to strain for climax because Saint’s forceful possession was giving her no other choice but to accept it. A whimper of shock popped out of her throat when he suddenly thrust a thumb into her asshole while he continued to drive his cock into her pussy. Her eyes sprang wide.

  “That’s where you deserve to get it for being such a tease. That’s where you’ll get it the next time you pull something like this too.”

  Her rectum tightened around his thick thumb. Her vagina writhed and contracted around his pounding cock. His growl sounded ominous. She cried out at the sensation of his penis swelling inside of her. Every nerve in her body lit up as climax tore through her flesh.

  She lost herself for a few seconds…a few minutes? Wave after torrential wave of pleasure battered her consciousness, leaving no room for anything else.