Crimson Psyche

by Lynda Hilburn

  I tugged against the ties. “Hey, no fair. I can’t touch you.”

  “No.” He grinned. “Not until I tell you to. In fact, for the next few hours, you will do nothing unless I will it.”

  The next few hours? I almost had an orgasm just thinking about that. “Oh, yeah?” I remembered what he’d said about wanting me to struggle, so I put some energy into twisting from side to side. “I can do whatever I want. You’re not the only one who gets to make up the rules for our little ‘vampire captures the psychologist’ game.” And this time, I’m participating voluntarily.

  He strolled to the end of the bed, eased his leather pants down his legs and stepped out of them. He gave me a glacier-melting look. “I am indeed the only one to make up the rules. And you will obey.” With that, he reached over and tugged off my jeans and panties.

  Hmm. We’ll see about obeying.

  I had a difficult time dragging my eyes from his naked body to his face. “Well, then. Why don’t you come over here and teach me the rules?”

  He studied me. “Are you so eager to be dominated, my little psychologist? Perhaps I will bind your ankles as well. There is no hurry. We have all night.”

  I could have argued, but I got sidetracked again by the notion of having all night. My mouth went dry.

  He made a return trip to the trunk and retrieved several longer lengths of the black silk rope.

  “What else do you have in that trunk?” I raised my head to see. One of my clients had brought in a BDSM catalog and had shown me some of the merchandise, most of which I’d found amusing then. But now chills broke out on my arms as I contemplated the intriguing possibilities.

  “Many wondrous things, and I will show them all to you.” He returned to the end of the bed. “But for tonight, we will start slowly. You need a safe word. Do you know what that means?”

  “Yes — one of my clients says he keeps forgetting his word, which is why his partner brutalizes him.”

  “That is unfortunate. We will experience no such thing, but it is good for you to have a boundary. I am not aroused as much by your pain as by your captivity, and my power over you. I can be very creative. So, what word do you choose?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.” Was I supposed to come up with the perfect word on the spur of the moment?

  He flicked his fingers, dismissing the topic. “Let us not waste time intellectualizing. I shall choose it for you. Your safe word is portrait.”

  “Portrait?”

  “Yes. A meaningful word for both of us. If at any time you become uncomfortable, just repeat it and all action will stop.” He leaned in and grabbed one of my ankles, tied the rope around it and secured it to the nearest post. Then he did the same with the other foot, giving a quick tug to make sure I was firmly held.

  Instinctively, I fought to bring my knees together and couldn’t. Having my legs forced open and exposing myself caused an avalanche of emotions — helplessness, fear and arousal primary among them. I was at his mercy. Feverish with need, my nipples stood rigid, my clitoris swelled with desire.

  He watched me struggle for a few seconds and all my muscles tensed. If he didn’t touch me soon, I’d go mad. “Devereux, please.”

  “Please what?” He crawled onto the bed between my legs and began sliding his hands along my skin, which had become a pulsing erogenous zone.

  Something like electricity flooded my cells. I craved his fingers on me. And in me. “You know.”

  He eased his body up mine, holding himself away by his hands and feet, as if he were performing a sensual push-up.

  His silky hair brushed against my breasts and I gasped.

  “Please what?” His warm lips replaced his hair, and he slowly sucked one nipple into his mouth and pulled roughly on it. He repeated the action with the other, leaving both aching with need.

  “I want you.” His tongue on my breasts was having a direct effect on my throbbing clitoris.

  “Not yet.” He kissed his way down my stomach to my wet folds and when his tongue reached its hyper-sensitive destination, I bucked my hips and screamed as an intense orgasm tore through me. But still he didn’t stop. He captured my legs with his arms to hold me in place while he sucked and licked.

  The sounds alone pushed me over the edge. It was as if his mouth was everywhere at once.

  Since I was tied by the ropes and restrained by his grip on my legs, I couldn’t move away as he forced me to have one orgasm after another. I had no idea a body could sustain such rapture. I was certain I’d eventually pass out from the bliss, but all I could do was whimper and try to breathe.

  Finally, he lifted his head, rose onto his knees then lifted my ass onto his thighs. He grabbed my hips, pushed himself roughly into me and began thrusting. “You are so tight and wet, if I were not able to control the duration of my erection I would have already exploded inside you. And I will soon.” His voice flowed like auditory silk. “I am going to take you again and again, until the sun rises. You are mine. Your body belongs to me. Say it.”

  “God, Devereux!” Another pleasure rush surged through me.

  He pulled back just enough to be able to thrust even deeper and I screamed. It felt so good.

  “Say it!” he ordered.

  “I’m yours,” I gasped, spasming in ecstasy.

  He moved his hands to my upper legs and tightened his arms around them as he pounded into me, my body sliding up and down the bed from the power of each thrust. Lucky the sheets were high quality, or I’m sure the motion would have worn the skin off my lower back.

  Writhing, frantic to touch him, I yanked at the ropes holding my wrists, trying to break free.

  He slid his hands back to my hips again and lifted me, forcing his erection even further inside. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded, his voice ragged.

  “I want—” I bucked, all my muscles contracting in another spine-bending orgasm.

  “What?” He thrust harder.

  “I want you.”

  He touched a place inside me I’d never experienced before and I almost shot out of my skin. “Do you choose me?”

  I gasped and stared up at his beautiful face and his god-like body. Unlike when Hallow asked that question, the answer was clear. “I do.”

  That must have been a good answer, because Devereux moaned and came with a wild shudder.

  Overwhelmed with sensations, I tugged at the ropes holding my wrists to the headboard. Thanks to the enhancements I’d gotten from Hallow, they broke free. I looped my tied wrists around Devereux’s neck and pulled his mouth to mine.

  We kissed passionately for an eternity, then softened the kiss before he raised his head.

  He gazed down at me, his incredible eyes shifting colors through the blue-green spectrum. “You look like a satisfied woman, Dr. Knight.”

  With a groan, I released my arms from his neck, licked my lips and cleared my throat before giving him a big smile. “I am. You’re pretty pleased yourself.”

  “I am indeed. I have great hope for our future together.” In a flash he was off the bed, his long, lean body moving with his usual athletic grace. He untied my ankles from the posts, and released my wrists from the ropes.

  I tested to see if my limbs were still functional, half-expecting screaming muscle cramps, but apart from some red skin where the rope had been and the area between my legs being numb and tingly at the same time, I wasn’t any the worse for wear. I stretched out, boneless, appreciating the afterglow.

  He handed me the water bottle from the side table. I sat up and drank, breathing hard, as if I’d run a marathon, and uphill at that.

  “After our next activity, you may rest in order to gather your strength. Although you might not have a problem in that area, as evidenced by your strength in pulling the rope from the headboard. Quite an impressive feat, that. We will discuss what to do about Hallow’s gifts at a later date.”

  Unwanted, frightening gifts.

  “You want me to take a nap?” I chuck
led.

  “No, just a brief reprieve. Part of my job as a dominant is to keep you happy and well. You have no doubt discovered that I am very good at that task.”

  “There’s an understatement. So what’s this next activity? I was pretty fond of the previous one.”

  He grinned. “As was I. The next one is special. Blood-play is my favorite.”

  “Blood-play?” I envisioned us painting pictures on each other’s bodies with Devereux’s dinner.

  “Yes. I will carve your skin with my fangs and drink your blood.”

  “What? Wait a minute.” I tensed. “Carve me?” So not finger-painting after all.

  “Yes — superficially. It will not be very much different from what we usually do, just a little bloodier.”

  “Well then, why bother?”

  His expression became serious. “Because I love to watch the blood bubble up from the scratches before I lick them clean and heal them. It is very arousing.” He glanced down at his erection, which once again stood at attention. “I wish to share all of my interests with you. And it gives me ultimate control over you and your pleasure. But never fear. I will bite you. Everywhere. I will penetrate all of you.”

  Oh. My. God. My body shifted into ecstatic overdrive again. I hoped I wasn’t drooling. What was wrong with me that the thought of blood-play turned me on so much? “My pleasure?”

  His wicked smile was back. “Oh, yes. In my skillful hands. You can trust me.” He ran his tongue over his fangs, the points of which had descended. He bent and retrieved the ropes again.

  So aroused I could barely talk, I flopped down onto the soft bedding. I cleared my throat a couple of times, allowing my gaze to track up and down his gorgeous frame. I trembled with excitement. “You’re going to tie me up again, bleed me, suck my blood, and then...”

  “Take you in ways we have not experienced before.”

  I couldn’t think of much we hadn’t already tried, but what came to mind took my breath away.

  “With your permission, of course.” He leaned down. “Do I have it?”

  “Oh, yes...”

  Epilogue

  Looking back, I don’t know which of the recent events was the more life-changing: surviving Hallow’s sick agenda, witnessing the deaths of people I knew, helping my friend Tom join the ranks of the undead, discovering the depth of Victoria’s skills and abilities as a witch, or exploring new sexual interests — mine and Devereux’s.

  It’s definitely a toss-up and I don’t expect to sort things out for a long time.

  A few days after his death, local police launched a search for Carson, the radio show host. His mother, an alcoholic hoarder, had alerted authorities that her son was missing. Apparently, he lived with her and she only noticed he was gone when the beer ran out. He was discovered by law enforcement after receiving an anonymous tip (it was the least I could do) that his body could be found in the funhouse at the abandoned amusement park. Despite what he’d said, Hallow had left it there. A lot of publicity surrounded the grisly reveal, and Carson enjoyed a few days of national fame before the media moved on to the next story. During his fifteen minutes, the horrors of his childhood were brought to light, and I became angry all over again, thinking about Hallow victimizing Carson one more time.

  To my great relief, Tom survived the transformation process from human to vampire and has been sequestered away until he can be trusted to be around the living. I understand that could take decades. Zoë tells me she intends to wait for him. It’s good that he’ll have a welcome-committee-of-one to celebrate when he re-emerges. Needless to say, the Dr. Sex show is on hold. I’ll be old and grey before he’s safe, so who knows if we’ll ever reconnect. The Tom I knew is gone, anyway. I’ll miss him.

  Luna has been banished to a secret vampire enclave for observation. Devereux says her addiction to Hallow changed after the demon morphed out of our dimension. But her fixation on Devereux still remains. He hasn’t decided yet what to do with her. He’s convinced there’s no treatment for this kind of obsession in the vampire realm. I’m not so sure, and will continue my research. Even though she isn’t my favorite bloodsucker, I can’t pass up an opportunity to expand my knowledge base about all things undead. But it’s okay with me if the bloodsucking supermodel who tried to kill me isn’t allowed to return. I’ll have to see if there’s any such thing as a supernatural restraining order.

  Victoria came through her ordeal stronger than ever and continued to nag me relentlessly to join her coven until I finally gave in. I have been enjoying the company of powerful women, in addition to utilizing the structure of the magical group to explore my innate abilities, as well as the new items on my Hallow-created menu. Victoria was right when she said I’d likely hold onto the changes — at least in some form — caused by ingesting the monster’s blood. Priestess In Training was never a title I expected to pursue, but I’m grateful for the coven’s support and encouragement. Victoria feels like the big sister I never had. Her relationship with Winston thrives and they’re adorable together. I guess I met him originally at the Crypt the night Lust was in charge, but I don’t remember. Regardless, we’ve been officially introduced since. I tease her about turning into a love-struck teenager around him. Devereux and I are going on a double date with them soon.

  I dream about Hallow.

  At first I thought the nocturnal visions were a normal reaction to having gone through a traumatic experience. And I’m sure that’s true. Not only did he upend my life, but because of his immunity to Elder protections, he was able to tamper with my brain. I’m lucky to have any functional neurons left. But the dreams are like the one I had while he was controlling me — the one where we’re standing in the beautiful, white-columned scene. I don’t know why I remember it, but I do. Odd, since I forgot so much else from that time-period. He talks to me in the dreamscape, once again appearing as the beautiful man he was before showing his ghastly truth. He insists he’s the only one who can assist me with my enhancements. So far, I’ve avoided thinking about the alterations to my psyche and his gifts. I’m just not ready. But worst of all is his claim that he’ll return to the physical, and that I’ll be his doorway. That’s too terrifying to contemplate.

  Devereux and I have grown closer since spending that night together in his secret lair. Sharing his predilections built a deeper connection between us. We’ve since become more creative, but he understands that I’ll always like the basics — in every sexual category — best. I prefer long, lingering kisses and slow caresses to toys and techniques, but everything has its place. I’m thrilled to be integrating more aspects of my libido — using Jung’s expanded definition — into my personality. Neither of us has mentioned the mate issue. I think he’s finally willing to be patient, although who can say for sure when discussing such a dom. He left a gift for me a few nights later — a beautiful Celtic bracelet. He says it’s a replica of a Bonding Bracelet and he swears my accepting it brings no terrifying or life-changing consequences. I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt.

  All the anger I reclaimed shows up in unexpected ways. According to those around me, I have a bigger temper than I thought. And a shorter fuse. Learning to regulate the new layers of my emotions is proving challenging, but expressing everything I feel is better than all the repression I’d previously practiced.

  And lucky me. There are more ghosts around than ever.

  The question for me now isn’t who am I?, but rather, who do I want to be?

  I wonder what the answer is.

  About the Author

  Lynda Hilburn, author of the Kismet Knight, Vampire Psychologist series, writes paranormal fiction. More specifically, she writes books about vampires, witches, ghosts, psychics and other supernatural creatures. After a childhood filled with invisible friends, sightings of dead relatives and a fascination with the occult, turning to the paranormal was a no-brainer. In her other reality, she makes her living as a licensed psychotherapist, hypnotherapist, addictions counselor, professional
psychic/tarot reader, university instructor and workshop presenter.

  She lives in Boulder, Colorado in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains and she loves hearing from her readers.

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  Blog: paranormalityuniverse.blogspot.com

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  Books by Lynda Hilburn

  Kismet Knight,

  Vampire Psychologist series:

  Devereux: The Night Before Kismet

  The Vampire Shrink

  Sex in a Coffin

  Until Death Do Us Part

  Blood Therapy

  Crimson Psyche

  Other paranormal books:

  Diary of a Narcissistic Bloodsucker

  Undead in the City

  Blood Song

  Vampires! A Bundle of Bloodsuckers