Claimed By Blackstone

by Alexx Andria

  “I do not rape women,” Archibald said stiffly, his gaze narrowing. “And I will not need to force you. You will come to me of your own accord.”

  “And how do you see that happening?” she dared to ask.

  “Like this,” he flicked his hand and it was as if a bell had been rung inside her body, reverberating with pleasure throughout her nerve endings, awakening everything to the possibility of the kind of pleasure he promised. She gasped and squeezed her legs together as he tickled her clitoris with unseen fingers, a million tiny tongues licking at her pleasure center, pressing every button and causing her to lose herself immediately and without warning. She writhed, sweat beading her body, as she moaned and cried out, wanting more, yet afraid of just how far he could push her to the edge with little effort on his part. It hardly seemed fair, honestly. “I could do this all night,” he told her easily, manipulating her body to deeper sensations until she felt as if she were about to fall apart.

  Over and over, she came close to coming but then the sensation would recede like the waters of a lake, gently lapping the shore and she’d start all over. Building, building, to a frustrating end, only to begin again. Soon enough, she was crying out, begging for release, even as it shamed her and destroyed her dignity. “Please, let me come,” she begged, her cheeks flaming. “God, please, I need to come!”

  “Tell me you will yield,” he said without mercy. “Grant me access to your body and I will ease your suffering.”

  “You’re a bastard,” she cried, groaning as he ramped up the pleasurable torture to near insane levels.

  “Yes,” he agreed without argument. “I am a bastard. Wicked and without a care to another’s feelings — that’s indeed what my enemies would say. But if you would ask my lovers…a different story entirely. If you would let me, I would worship your body, take you to heights you’ve never known and will never know in another lovers arms.”

  She would say or do anything to stop the madness growing in her body. She’d grant him anything if only he would let her come. “Yes, God, yes,” she whispered, half-sobbing as her body screamed for release. “Anything, just make it stop.”

  “Then let our night begin…” he said with dark victory. “Let it begin.”

  ***

  “When I was alive, I was brash, hot-headed, often reckless. I fucked at will and gave little care for the consequence. I discovered, to my dismay, that all things come at a price. Even pleasure.” Archibald began slowly, methodically undressing, his gaze never leaving hers. He jerked his pristine white dress shirt open to reveal a dark spot above his flat nipple. “This,” he gestured to the unnatural spot “is where the bullet pierced my heart. A lover’s affronted husband, incensed at being a cuckold, shot me dead right here in this room. I died here. One shot. Clean and efficient. Ironically, I’d gone hunting with the man and he’d never been as good a shot when hunting fox as when he was shooting a human being.” He shrugged out of his shirt and let it drop to the floor. “Lesson learned, I suppose.”

  “That you can’t always get what you want?” she supplied with a brave tilt of her mouth once she could breathe again.

  He countered with a cool smile of his own. “No, that I should pay closer attention to my intuition and not the dictates of my cock. I knew Gia was trouble from the moment I laid eyes on her. A loose slut with eyes for every cock in town and an appetite that would never be satisfied no matter how many times she’d been fucked. But my ego got the best of me. However, I believe I got the last laugh. Isaac died of a horrendous sexually transmitted disease many years later from a whore. His hypocrisy was mildly amusing as was his karmic retribution but I digress. Within time, I learned that on this eve, the veil separating the dead from the living was as diaphanous as a sheer curtain and I took full advantage. Ahh, the adventures I had but then this house emptied and there were no more beautiful ladies to court.”

  “This is not courting,” she disagreed hotly. “This is ghostly assault and unnatural.”

  “And what of the red rose? The music?”

  She shook her head. “That’s not enough and even if it were possible to accept the affections of a ghost…the fact remains, that you are dead. There’s no future there, which is fairly typical of the men in my life,” she grumbled.

  The bed gave way to his weight as he lay beside her, as comfortable as if they were an old couple sharing intimacies. She should’ve been scared out of her mind but oddly, she wasn’t. If anything, she was intrigued by the mystery, the science, even, and the mystique of what was happening. And even, if she were being honest, the attraction she felt toward the man. He was a force to be reckoned with in death, she could only imagine how he’d been in life. “You have beautiful breasts,” he shared, reaching over to squeeze her breast with a firm hand. Before she could protest, his mouth descended, closing tightly over the budded nipple and she moaned deep in the back of her throat as her nerve endings leaped with awareness and she arched as if to feed him more of her own flesh. “And you taste like honeyed wine,” he murmured against her nipple, grazing the sensitive bud with the gentle scrape of teeth. “In life, I would ask a woman what she desired…in death, I already know.” Monica’s arms were suddenly bound above her head and her legs splayed. She gaped at the realization she was helpless and the telling wetness between her legs gave away her immediate arousal. Her cheeks flared and she tried to hide her face behind her arm but it was hopeless, he knew her dirty heart and it wasn’t fair. He leaned into her space, crowding her. “I can smell your honeyed core, your pussy juices practically drip down your thigh, giving away your secret. Do you know why your previous lovers were dissatisfying? It wasn’t their lack of fidelity — although that’s what you believe — it was their lack of ownership. My sweet dove, a man who can satisfy his woman’s craving, has no need to look elsewhere because he’s too busy fucking her into submission. They weren’t worthy of your sacrifice, your loyalty.”

  Something rang true in his assessment even though her rational mind wanted to balk. Roger had been a considerate lover but a little too timid if she were honest and Hayden had been full of adventure but ultimately selfish in his lovemaking style. She dared to meet Archibald’s knowing gaze, his lips inches from hers. “And you think you are worthy?” she asked.

  “My sweet dove, you and I were made for one another and I’ve waited decades to claim you as my own. All encounters to this point have been mere practice for the main event.”

  “So you played with other women…after you became a ghost?”

  “There was a learning curve, my sweet,” he chuckled. “But I am a master now. Let me show you all my tricks and treats on this special night.”

  This was it. The defining moment. Either she was all in or she fought what she knew in her heart to be true because her mind hadn’t quite accepted it yet. The memory of untold pleasure tingled in the back of her brain but it was the knowing in Archibald’s gaze that told her the complete story. Her soul seemed to yearn for his touch, even as crazy as it seemed and she was truly helpless to ignore the siren call. So here it goes. She would yield and come what may. She lifted up to meet his lips, sealing her mouth to his in a deep searching kiss that took him by surprise but ignited the beast within him. “So take me then,” she dared him, breaking the kiss. “Make me yours.”

  With a triumphant growl, Archibald rolled her to her knees, her hands still bound by invisible rope and slipped his finger deep inside her, testing, probing, and she groaned, pushing her hips back to bury his finger deeper, wishing it were his cock, groaning as he pushed another finger in, stretching her, teasing. He pinched her swollen clit, causing her to yelp and grind on his fingers, wanting more, needing more, until he obliged and rubbed the nub with a light touch. And then his fingers were gone and his hands gripped her ass, squeezing the plump flesh hard enough to leave a bruise but she welcomed the mark because maybe, just maybe, it would be necessary to save her sanity later when she questioned if any of this had happened at all. “Your ass is s
o sweet, so squeezable. So fuckable.”

  Did he mean to…? She stiffened, frightened at the thought but he didn’t give her a chance to give into fear, distracting her with more pleasure. Pleasure that was impossible to imagine and brutally encompassing. A pleasure cloud enveloped her body as she rang with sensations that were otherworldly and decadent and she forgot her fear entirely. Suddenly, his fist was tangled in her hair as he wrenched her head back, bowing her to his will and causing her pussy to flood with juices. He was clearly in control and she was helpless to stop him and she loved it. That was her dirty secret and he knew it. Knew it as easily as he knew his left from his right palm and she shuddered at the power he exuded. “The things you want but are too afraid to ask for, afraid of the censure, the judgment, I assure you, I will give you,” he promised darkly and she knew he would. “You yearn for domination, so that you may submit to a man without feeling as if you’ve given up your feminine power and I will show you that your fears are groundless. Submission is your gift, my sweet dove, and I intend to accept it with a willing and humble heart.”

  Any other man saying these words to her would’ve been a huge turn off but she could barely contain her joy as she gave herself over to Archibald. There was liberation in relinquishing control, relinquishing expectations. There was no social dance to adhere to — he was fucking dead and of a different era — he could give two shits about convention and politically correct niceties. And, oh God, he was a fucking beast in bed!

  He was behind her, his cock poised at her slippery entrance and she braced herself, giddy with anticipation of being split in two by his cock. She rocked against him, presenting her pussy to him with willing abandon, loving that she needn’t be concerned with anything but pleasure and she cried out, “Take me, Archibald! Fucking take me now!” And then he did exactly that, plunging inside her, pushing his massive cock into her tight sheath, stretching her as he went, demanding everything she had and taking it without restraint. A groan escaped her as he thrust against her, punching her womb with the unerring accuracy of a hunter intent on its prey. He went balls deep, the soft tissue of his testicles slapping her bare ass as he continued to ride her, hips thrusting without mercy, pushing her to that final edge. But before she could tumble over that blessed cliff, he withdrew and slapped her hard on her ass, causing her to yelp and groan, “What are you doing? I was so close!”

  “You did not ask for your release and thus you must be punished my little dove,” he told her harshly and she trembled with anticipation at what he would do to her. “When you wish to come, you will beg for your release. If you please me, I will grant it. If you disappointment me, I will deny you the sweetness of release and drag out your punishment until you scream.”

  She bit her lip, smiling as she wiggled her ass, teasing him. “And just how will you punish me, Archibald? Will you fuck me harder? Because if you do, I will only come harder.”

  “Oh, you little vixen, let me show you.”

  And then his cock was pushing at her ass, breaching her tightly budded entrance, and she gasped at the intrusion. But even as she opened to him, thinking smugly that she could handle whatever he thought to dish out, she cried out in shock as the sensation of Archibald filling her pussy once again made her shudder and moan. “What are you doing? How? Ohhh my God!”

  He was filling her in both places. How was it possible? But the questions would not have answers at the moment because head-splitting pleasure began to take over as he began to pump against her, two cocks, one real, one phantom, as he bent her to his will with the sheer force of his sexual domination. Soon enough she was babbling incoherently as pleasure built and receded, built and receded, until she was mindless.

  “Beg for your release, my sass-mouthed vixen,” he demanded and she could only cry as her body shuddered and jerked against the need to let go. Her breath was stolen from her lungs and she couldn’t take much more. “Beg, my darling and I will grant it.”

  “P-please,” she managed, but the words were stuck in her mouth. She forced the words out with a sob. “Please! Let me come. Please!”

  “Who does this pussy belong?” he roared, slapping her hard on the ass, stinging the flesh and causing her to scream and grind harder against him. “Say it, sweet girl! Who do you belong?”

  “You! Archibald, oh my hell, you Archibald, p-please!”

  Satisfied, he pumped her without mercy, pushing her to the final edge until she shattered into oblivion, her soul flying into the sun, as two cocks pummeled her without end. She couldn’t take anymore and yet she wanted it so desperately. “Yes, yes!” Archibald roared his release and warmth filled her body, both in her pussy and her ass, which should’ve been impossible and yet, she felt bathed in his fluids, dripping with his seed so that the sounds of their fucking filled the room with soppy squishes. He collapsed against her and they both tumbled to the bed, the invisible ropes binding her disappearing as if he’d momentarily lost the ability to manifest the effect and she rocked against the sensations crashing over her in big, cresting waves that were so powerful, they bordered on pain. When she could speak, her voice was hoarse as she stared in wonder at the ceiling, knowing there was no going back after an experience like that. “I am well and truly yours now, aren’t I?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll never be able to settle for anything less than this,” she said almost bitterly. “Why me?”

  Archibald laughed. “Why not?”

  Even as the pleasure continued to ring inside her body, she struggled with the knowledge that her life was forever changed and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “This isn’t natural.”

  His expression hardened as he gripped her jaw. “Screw the natural law. I will have you and I’ve waited a lifetime to claim you for my own. Can you not feel in your soul that this is meant to be?”

  She did. Good God, she did. It was ludicrous and yet, so right. “But I can never truly be yours. What kind of future is this? You’re the quintessential unavailable bachelor — the exact kind of man I’ve been trying to avoid. Just because you’re dead doesn’t change a thing. I don’t want to date guys like you.”

  “You will date no one like me. Ever,” he returned smugly and she wanted to bop him over the head with a pillow…or an anvil. “Come, we have precious little time before I lose this corporal body. We shouldn’t waste it bickering like an old married couple.”

  Well, she couldn’t argue with that logic. “How much time do you have left?”

  He glanced at her bedside clock. “An hour.” A wicked smile curved his lips. “Shall I show you something truly sinful?”

  She held her breath and relented. “Yes, we might as well go for it. What else you got?”

  A dark laugh rumbled out of his hard, chiseled chest as he pressed her into the bed. “I’ve got tricks that will make you forget your own name, but never,” he said, his voice lowering to a sensual octave “who owns this luscious body.” He went down her belly, sliding his tongue into her navel before slipping his tongue into her pussy, delving into that hot flesh, until she was gasping for air and griping his hair in her hand. “I will always come to you…in your dreams…on this night. Promise you will be mine forever more,” he murmured, wrenching the promise from her lips with the seal of utter pleasure. She groaned, giving him her soul, searing the unnatural bond between them in bodily fluids and helpless but wondrous sweetness as he milked her clit of every sensation, demanding she submit to his touch and yielding to his whim.

  “Yes, I yield,” she cried, losing herself again and again. “Holy fuck, I yield!”

  His low rumble of laughter echoed in her dreams long after the hour had passed and she was left naked, wet, and completely worn out from head to toe. There was no mistaking that it’d happened. She’d been fucked — completely and absolutely — by an unnatural being and her soul was likely in jeopardy but as her body continued to tremble with the aftershocks of the insane pleasure he wrought in her body, she couldn’t bring herself to care
.

  Colors seemed brighter, sound more vibrant and her body sang with a power that wasn’t natural in the least. If anything, she could practically feel her living aura, blazing, fed by the fire created by Archibald’s unnatural touch and she knew nothing would be the same. Ordinary men would never satisfy her again. And, as a smile found her, she was okay with that. Ordinary men were so…ordinary.

  A smile found her lips as she stretched, lazy as a cat and just as sated, dizzy with the realization that everything she’d ever known about life — and death — had been seriously obliterated and you know what? She was good with it. Soooo good with it.

  In fact, she was counting down the days until the veil was thin enough to be claimed by Blackstone…again and again and again again…because she belonged to him.

  In this life — and the next.

  ***

  Looking for more by Alexx Andria?

  Enjoy the first chapter from her bestselling novel, LEVERAGE

  -1-

  Boston Kincaid was used to getting what he wanted — not because things came easily to him but because he didn't accept obstacles.

  And he wanted her.

  There were a million different reasons why he shouldn't, but none mattered. She invaded his fantasies, his dreams, interrupted his thoughts with frightening regularity and he figured that the only way he could ease his frustration was to have her in his possession.

  But first he had to find his leverage. He suffered no illusions that what he was doing was ethical, moral, or even legal but, again none of that mattered. Perhaps he was obsessed, yes… That was a good word for it. Obsessed. But if the advantage of being filthy wealthy was the ability to remove all obstacles¸ Boston didn't hesitate to use every resource available to him.