by Joey Hill
Then there were his actual balls. Which had turned out to be pretty necessary, dealing with a sub who could kill him with less thought than it took him to snap a pencil.
Fucking her, pleasurable as it was, didn’t mean much. A less experienced Dom would have thought that was the major breakthrough. But from his understanding, the vampire world was all about kinky sex that didn’t necessarily touch the power dynamics locked in place like armor. The most important event in those hours together had been when she let him curl over her, give her sanctuary, intimacy. A sense of safety that had nothing to do with the differences in their strengths, but the emotional haven she needed. She needed so much more, though, and she hadn’t opened that door more than a crack. But it was an important crack. In that same short time, he’d become determined to handle everything that came out of it.
Vardalos had known that. He knew Garron had been in Eden long enough. His growing restlessness signified that things had healed, that it was time for a purpose. When he was in the military, he’d stayed behind as a contractor when others pulled out because he’d known what needed to be done. Even if it was a lost cause with dwindling numbers, it didn’t mean it wasn’t the right thing to do. He remembered the eyes of the children, watching the soldiers leave. At that young age, they’d cared nothing for adult politics or zealotry or big talk about self-determination without shit for fire power to back it up. They wanted to be able to play ball in the street, go to school. Not worry if their friends, parents, their dog or themselves would be dead by the end of the day, if another part of their unpredictable life would crumble and be remade in another power-hungry idiot’s image of the perfect world.
He remembered the kids playing near the base, asking the soldiers for candy. Little opportunists. His lips twisted at how innocently and transparently they used their charms. Their simple trust and hope had lodged in his heart. As a Master, he placed a high value on such trust, used that as motivation to earn and deserve it.
Despite the fact the vampire he was watching had a long history that made her the exact opposite of innocent and transparent, he felt that simple trust and hope reaching out to him from within her. The kind of Master he was had responded to her as if she was the answer to a question he’d been waiting to hear for a really fucking long time.
He liked Lady Kaela. Liked the way she fought, how unapologetic and yet complex she was, keeping him on his toes. Yeah, he enjoyed the hell out of his job, but this was more than that. He wasn’t one of those guys who denied his feelings. He evaluated them in a pretty matter-of-fact way. Which was why he’d always been bemused by those who thought falling for someone was a long process, one that couldn’t happen in a heartbeat. He’d known in a heartbeat he would stay in the Middle East, do what needed to be done, and that decision had nearly cost him his life. It didn’t change the fact he would have done it again, because he knew that was where he needed to be.
He’d never met a damsel in distress who could put him through a wall. Yet he looked at her and saw a connection, a signpost that said this was the way he needed to go, whatever the cost. Consequences didn’t bother him. Missing a sign post was the real bitch.
He shook his head and rose. Time for a breather from all the emotional shit. He hadn’t let himself go over when she had, and his cock was bitching about that like a shrewish fish wife. Watching her had stirred him up, so what was unfolding inside him was good, straightforward lust. He thought she might be ready to enjoy that as well. Kind of a cleansing, the good dirty kind, before they got back into the real muck again.
Hell, his vampire might still kill him before the week was over. He grinned at the thought. So no sense in holding back. Before it was over, he’d make damn sure she knew just how demanding a Master he was.
§
Fran always waited to be called before she entered Kaela’s room. But she knew Garron was there, sitting in the occasional chair a few feet from the bed, watching her. Without opening her eyes, Kaela imagined sliding out of the bed, going to him on her knees, kneeling between his feet, head bowed, waiting for whatever he desired. Maybe he’d stroke her hair with those strong, capable fingers that calmed things inside her. Maybe he’d open his jeans, force her lips down on his erection and make her service him. Maybe he’d do nothing but make her sit there while she trembled and wondered. Waited on him.
She’d fought and killed vampires who’d had a better than equal chance of killing her or worse, and yet, as she considered actually doing what she imagined, sliding from the bed to kneel between his feet, her courage failed her. But what if he ordered her? She wondered what it would be like to have him in her mind, issuing commands in that sensual rumble like a muscle car, hinting at all the power he could unleash. Would it sound like that, or be more fluid, like the command of a warrior angel? Without the hearing aids, his voice was low and steady, the syllables unbroken, a smooth and sure connection like the strength of his hands holding her.
For her to find out what he’d sound like in her mind, she would have to second mark him. Which technically would make him a second mark servant. He was no servant, but the thought of him being bound to her that intimately was too tempting.
All her worries of the previous day were hovering, and she didn’t want to get lost in them. So she raised her lashes, and got lost in something else.
He was sitting in the chair, yes, watching her, fingers steepled, eyes thoughtful. And he wore nothing, every length of limb and layer of muscle visible. His erection, thick and stiff, brushed his hard belly. He didn’t look concerned about his nakedness at all. He was just studying her, as he would a wild animal he was trying to tame to take food from his hand. Not so far from the truth, really. It was a titillating thought, another fantasy.
Desire shot through her, strumming through her thighs and punting all those worries over the dark edge of her mind. Especially when his gaze sharpened and he spoke in that muscle car purr.
“Sit up and let the sheet drop. I want to see you.”
He’d put her to bed naked except for the collar. She could smell his scent on her skin, between her legs, and she didn’t want to shower. Or wear any clothes at all that would detract from that marking. From his heated look, she wondered if he was going to let her wear any more clothes these next ten days anyway. Swirling became tight coils at the thought, centered between her legs. This was just a fantasy, one she could enjoy without repercussions or worry. Yet it felt so real to her. Too real. Regardless, she pushed herself up, her long hair falling over her right shoulder as she let the sheet crumple to her waist. His attention went to her breasts, the slope of her abdomen, her shoulders.
“Play with your nipples. I want to see them get tight and hard.”
She cupped her breasts, her lips parting at the flicker in his gaze as she manipulated her nipples between her knuckles. She didn’t think anything other than his intent regard was needed to get them to stiffen, but how he focused on her hands, her breasts, so exclusively, as if watching her do that was the most important thing in the universe, intensified her reaction. This was how she’d imagined it. Serving a Master, yet somehow feeling like the center of his world because her service was so essential to him.
He clasped his cock at the base, began to idly pump it, thumb rubbing the glans as he watched her. Her gaze went to it, and she licked her lips.
“Hungry this evening, are you?” His hand slid down, back up, squeezed himself, and she felt a similar sensation between her legs. He didn’t seem in any hurry to order her to do anything else. He was just looking at her, using her as his personal pinup while her pussy got more slippery and the cool flesh of her breasts yearned for the heat of his hands.
“Come to me.” Those dark eyes locked with hers. “The way you imagine your Master would want you to come to him.”
The man apparently didn’t need a second mark to hear her thoughts. Perhaps his skill as a Master had been augmented by having to watch body language so closely, read lips, do all the things someone mo
stly deaf had to do to comprehend the world around him. She’d always prided herself on her poker expression, knew she was good at it. He was just better. It was rare she’d met a man who could get the upper hand with her when she didn’t want him to have it. It was even more rare—try never—that she’d met a man to whom she wanted to give that upper hand. With Jared it had been a natural evolution, never a conscious choice like this, a mature woman putting her soul into a man’s hands.
When she hesitated, his lips firmed. “Don’t refuse me, my lady. I have an alligator paddle you won’t like at all.”
Actually the idea of it struck her mind like a glowing brand, and she pressed her lips together. His brow raised.
“Christ, you’re a temptation. Obey me and I’ll reward you by blistering your ass. You won’t be able to sit down until your vampire healing fixes you.” His eyes glittered. “You’re getting wetter. Your chin just lifted a little, jaw tightening a fraction. Shortened breath.”
“It’s not supposed to be this simple.”
“It’s not simple. It’s just swift. There’s a difference.” He studied her. “Vardalos told me about the way vampires mark their servants. First mark, a geographical locater, so you know where I am. Second mark, you can speak in my head and I can speak in yours. Do you want me in your mind, Kaela? Unable to hide any thought from me, no need to speak aloud because I already know what you want and need, even when you can’t quite tell yourself?”
Yes. But marking wasn’t about that. It was what a vampire did to bind the servant to her, to make it impossible for the human to hide his or her thoughts. Fran only had access to the thoughts Kaela sent her, allowed her to hear. Yes, she could open her mind to Fran if she desired, but that wasn’t the way the vampire-servant relationship worked. But Garron having full access to her mind, her body… Her pulse jumped unexpectedly, and she realized the hands he’d commanded to fondle herself were moving more sensually over her breasts, cupping, kneading, now pinching her nipples in a way that had her head dropping back on her shoulders.
“Kaela.” His voice was a growl. “Get over here.”
“It’s not as easy as you just ordering me about.” Yet her voice was thready as she brought her feverish gaze back to him, to the cock still jutting between his legs. It had grown thicker. She could almost feel the way it would stretch her, invade, pin her to the bed like a helpless butterfly.
“Nothing’s easy about you, my lady. Crapping broken glass would be easier.”
She blinked at the crudity, not sure if she’d just been insulted or complimented. She also wondered at the part of her that appreciated the moments when he let his own rough edges show. “So you are a masochist.”
“There’s not a big difference between the two sides of that coin. Otherwise they wouldn’t fit together so smooth. You know…you can second mark me if you wish.”
She started at the unexpected segue. He said it casually, but his direct glance said he was serious.
“We can’t do that.” She shook her head. “It’s forbidden by the Council to second mark a human if there’s no intent to bring them into our world permanently, since the mark is permanent. It’s a death sentence for the human.”
“It’s different here.” Garron gestured to the waterfall in the wall, where she could feel the remnants of the day’s sunlight still fading from the rock. She’d fallen asleep looking at it, the miracle of seeing that slash of sunlight in her bedchamber. “The same magic which makes that possible allows you to second mark me, let me into your head, without it being permanent. Once you leave the island, the mark ceases to exist and the connection will disappear.”
That wasn’t possible. But sunlight on her skin hadn’t been possible, either. “You’re not a servant.”
“Servant can have a lot of meanings. Or mean nothing. It’s just a word.”
“I won’t risk your life based on the word of Theodosius Vardalos.”
“You risked yours based on his. The waterfall, the things he knows… Do you think he’d tell you the mark would be eradicated when you leave if he didn’t already know it would?”
“I don’t want you to be a servant.”
His gaze flashed like a blade unsheathed. “I’m not, Kaela. Mark me or not, it doesn’t change that.”
Her earlier concerns, that somehow this was all an elaborate trap, returned, but were gone just as quickly. It wouldn’t make sense. If she second marked a human, the control was all hers, and she would have detected if another vampire’s mark was upon him, trying to seek a way into her mind in an unguarded moment. But it didn’t make the idea, already too tempting, any more feasible. She wouldn’t let her own desires endanger him any more than they already had.
“I can’t do it. It’s bad enough that I’ve pursued this as far as I have. I should have left on the next plane.”
“Not allowed. You’re my vacation, remember? If you leave, I have to go back to work.”
She made a face at him and he gave her a tight smile. His hand stilled, though it stayed wrapped around his distracting cock. “All right, we’ll leave that alone for now. I’m going to tell you how this day is going to go. Would you like that?”
After a long, heart thumping silence, she nodded.
“You’re going to come over here, kneel between my feet and suck me off. Then I’m going to decide what I want you to wear tonight. I like the look of that dainty little collar and tether on you, so that may be it.” He paused, arching a brow. “Want to hear more?”
“Yes.” Her hands had dropped to the bed, were fisting the sheets.
“Then come here.” He pointed between his feet. “The way you imagined it, Kaela. Impress your Master. Make me even harder, so I can’t think of anything but fucking your mouth, shoving you down on me until you make those little helpless, hot noises because I’m being too rough. But you don’t want me to stop until I make you choke on my come.”
He considered her, lips twisting. “I’ll bet it’s been a hell of a long time since you went down on anyone. You couldn’t do it to a servant unless he was trussed up, to make it clear you’re doing it to torment him with your mouth, rather than serving his pleasure. But you couldn’t risk even that, because if you’re like most subs, it’s hard not to lose yourself in that feeling that takes over when you’re sucking your Master’s cock. I don’t have to tell you what that feeling is, do I?”
She shook her head. Her eyes felt too wide in her face. She was holding onto his every word with ten times more fascinated attention than she’d given to Fran’s most involved bedtime stories. Probably for the reasons he’d just stated. She couldn’t afford to get too lost when the words were coming from Fran’s lips. She could with Garron.
“Kaela.” He fisted his cock, rubbed his thumb over the slick slit. “Over here. Now.”
A vampire had incredible speed, but they were also as lithe and flexible as cats. She slithered to the floor in a sinuous stretch of upper torso and thigh, and closed the ten feet between them on hands and knees. No thought to it, just putting everything into the sway of her hips, the toss of her head to get her hair to fall back against her shoulder blades and spill forward again. It tangled with her fingers as she moved toward his feet, his knees, the tempting organ that rose between his thighs. She could almost already taste him. Her breasts swayed with her movements, brushing the insides of her arms.
She’d unconsciously bared her fangs. From the spark in his gaze, the slight tension in his body, a soldier’s reaction to potential threat, she knew she looked dangerous. She liked that, liked challenging him that way. Yet when she reached him, something else took over. She laid her head on his inner thigh, watched his hand move up and down his length. Inching forward, she laid her lips on his knuckles.
Releasing his cock, he laid his hand on her hair, stroking as she imagined wrapping her lips around him and sliding slowly, slowly down his turgid length. But not until he told her she could.
Just when she thought he would, he nudged her up so she sat
back on her heels. When she smoothed back her hair from her face with both hands, he had another command for her.
“Stay like that. Hands laced behind your head.”
Another standard submissive pose. She automatically spread her knees, arching her back. A little moan broke from her lips when he gripped her breasts, giving her the heat she craved. He flicked the tips and shifted forward in the chair. As she kept her chin up, her eyes resting on the wall of his chest, he pressed his cock between her breasts, closing her curves tight around it. She wanted to put her mouth between his well-developed pecs, work her way down that defined abdomen to the organ that had her salivating.
“You promised…” She had to clear her throat, stifle another moan as he pinched her nipples again, pushed his cock more insistently into that cleft. “To tell me more about…the day you had planned.”
He grunted, but pumped himself a few more times between her generous curves, making it clear his pleasure came first. She realized she’d arched her back further, pushing her breasts into his palms.
He gave them another squeeze, a rough caress before he slid back. Not too far, though, because he tangled his hand in her hair. Instead of answering her, he pushed her face down toward his lap.
“Lick me first. Balls to head. Convince me you deserve the whole thing in your mouth.”
She couldn’t think about this, didn’t want to do so. She didn’t want thought to interfere with the incredible flood of sensation between her legs, the flutter his every word was causing in her chest, increasing the tingle in her nipples, the ache from every orifice wanting to be filled by him. She complied… Obeyed. She traced the ridge of the glans, followed the throbbing veins down to the base, nuzzled his balls, inhaling his musky scent. Creating a swirling pattern all the way up and around, she took tiny nips and suckles as she went, small infractions but ones he allowed. If the clench of his fingers in her hair were any indication, he approved, and that made her more enthusiastic.
