Elusive Hero: Invitation to Eden (Vampire Queen Series Book 12)

by Joey Hill

  She nodded, then remembered he wanted to hear words. “Yes.”

  He opened a door, brought her through. It felt like they stepped from the doorway through a wider opening, perhaps an archway into a bigger room.

  The door had significantly muffled the noise. Here the music vibrated through the chest, the soles of the feet, and those sharp cries, the snap of a whip, were far more vivid. She found herself focusing on Garron’s hand on her hip, her back, his body brushing hers, like a focal point to walk a tightrope. She didn’t realize she was leaning into him like a storm shelter until she inadvertently stepped in front of him. If his arm hadn’t been around her waist, she would have tangled up and tripped. Before she could get flustered by that, tear off the blindfold, he came to a halt. She was surrounded by the hum of conversations, of commands given and received, of whimpers and sobs, gasping breaths. But no casual conversation. Despite the distant thrum of dance music, this area was intended to give Doms and subs the ability to connect.

  She should be freaking out, and she was, somewhat, but all those sounds inundated her with images as well. Images of herself doing whatever the subs she couldn’t see were doing. Garron holding the whip, the key to the cuffs, his hand to the back of her neck, his gruff orders to spread her legs.

  When he’d caught her, she’d turned toward his front, her arm folding against his chest. Now her fingers curled in his collar, discovering he’d donned a shirt before he left her suite. Once again he was fully dressed while she was naked, except for his collar, the stimulator and the nipple clamps. To anyone watching, she’d look like a sex slave. His. He stroked her back, her ass. He used his other hand to tweak the chain connecting the clips, gave it a little tug that sent searing pain through her nipples. But the reactive jerk of her hips increased the more immediate threat of the clitoral stimulator. “Oh…”

  She sucked in a breath at the flood of feeling, of panic. She was going to come. “Garron.”

  He slid his fingers between the stimulator and her pussy, pinching the wet lips in a way that cut that intense sensation, yet the direct contact of his hand upon her became the catalyst. She had a short, intense mini-climax against his fingers, pressing her mouth against his collar bone to muffle her groans. He cupped the back of her head, holding her as she shivered and jerked against him.

  “Fucking gorgeous,” he said against her temple. “That’s just the way I want to keep you tonight. I want you so mindless and needy you’ll come from the touch of a feather. But only if I’m the one holding it.”

  She braced her forehead against his chest, fighting to pull herself together. Everything she’d imagined and more, Garron was doing to her. How was it that Theodosius Vardalos hadn’t asked her about her fantasies, hadn’t had her fill out a questionnaire of limits and preferences, yet this male seemed to pick up on so much, keeping her spinning? He said he used his instincts, and she believed it, because she felt like she had his total attention in a way no man had ever paid attention to her before. Uncanny.

  She was still throbbing, feeling like she could come again in no time. She was sure he knew that, but he was leading her onward, making her do her best to walk upright with all those pleasant and less than pleasant stimulations keeping her to a hobble. Then they were out of the public room and back in another quiet hallway. A code was punched in, and he’d eased her into a room, closed the door. This was his room. It had that same sandalwood aroma that Garron carried on his flesh, as well as a light rosewater scent, clean linen…lavender. Was it from the efforts of a cleaning staff, or from the mix of whatever oils and lubricants were probably available in the room?

  “So this is where you do sessions with other guests, other staff members.”

  “Yeah. Mostly. Though a lot of them prefer public floor play.” He touched her face, turned her toward him. “But for these ten days, my submissive has me all to herself.”

  He’d picked up on the edge to her tone. If he’d been smug, she could have shot back a barbed response, but he sounded satisfied by her need for possession. That only twisted her irritation into a more compelling, more confusing need.

  He used the tether to lead her across the room. Gripping her wrist, he guided her palm until it met the stone wall, telling her he’d taken her to the back. A chain rattled and he fitted a cuff to her wrist, some kind of steel that fit snugly. Not tightly enough to press against her wrist bone, but too small for her to slip the cuff easily over her hand. He threaded the chain into a frame above her, lifting her arm out to her side and just above, securing her bent arm at a 45 degree angle. After he did the same to the other, he knelt and spread her legs past shoulder width, cuffing them to the floor.

  Rising to his feet, he inserted his thumb into the hinge of her mouth. “Let’s take care of these fangs.”

  Though she tried to jerk her head back, startled, he slid a metal bit between her lips, strapped it around her head. “You may be stronger than hell, but my guess is your enamel breaks like anyone else’s. You won’t be trying to bite your way out of that unless you don’t care about that pretty smile.”

  He balanced the abruptness of that by stroking her back, her hair. This time it was to do more than enjoy the lustrous strands, though. Separating them out into three thick ropes, he began to braid them. She was impressed by how efficiently and swiftly he managed it, even as little shivers of sensation chased one another up and down her spine as his fingers brushed her.

  He’d left the blindfold, nipple clamps and vibrator in place. The vibrator was still humming against her clit. With all these different forms of stimulations, he was trying to get her worked up higher than even last time, she was sure. Her legs and arms were spread, cuffed in place, and her trembling was back. It was ridiculous, because nothing could truly hold her. Or could it?

  “These are the cuffs and frame that Vardalos had brought in special,” he said, as if reading her mind. “You can’t get out of them, not without substantial effort and concentration. I plan to destroy your concentration, take it away from you entirely until you know you have to ask my permission to have it back.”

  He thought he had her captured. Reflex had her giving the cuffs a yank, not really believing him, and then her heart hitched in her chest as she found yes, they were stronger than she’d expected. Far stronger. The frame didn’t budge, either. She was used to everything she touched being something that would give under the pressure a vampire could bring to bear. It was why one of the earliest things a made vampire learned, after controlling blood lust, was physical self-restraint so they could hold things designed for a human grip without destruction. Like wineglasses, eggs.

  She yanked harder. She was caught. Truly caught. Unable to get free. She’d fantasized about it, but reality meant she was vulnerable to attack. Yet the more she pulled, the more her nipples throbbed and the more her hips jerked against the vibration. She was gasping, aroused, panicked…

  “Easy,” Garron murmured. He’d finished with her hair, had wrapped her braid around his hand, his fingers massaging her nape.

  “Take off the blindfold. Take it off.” Her voice was muffled, so maybe he didn’t understand her. If she could have that much control…

  Instead he removed the gag to bend and press his mouth against hers. Gentle, using the tip of his tongue to part her lips, tease them and her fangs, coax her tongue to play with his. He was making a quiet hum in the back of his throat as he did it. Cupping her skull, he stroked her face even more gently, with sensual, drugging intent, making her focus on the strength in his hands, cradling her like an egg. Caring for her.

  She kissed him back with desperation and far less control, tried to nip at him. He merely held her face still, kept playing with her mouth, making love to it in a way that had her swaying forward in the chains again, her body against his. He bent his knees and held her waist so he could press his cock against her core, letting her feel that demand even with the denim separating them. He was seducing her into giving up control. Making her okay with so
mething she could never be okay with. Or could she? She’d fantasized about it. She had.

  He was giving her what she wanted. But that panic had resurrected a fear she hadn’t experienced in so long, the years having pushed it below better memories.

  She wasn’t a woman who allowed the horrors of the past to control her present or future, but some memories took over if the circumstances were right. She was caught in unbreakable chains, more vulnerable than she’d been in decades.

  No. I won’t let that ruin this. I won’t.

  But she had a feeling she was going to need help with that. The question was, was Garron as good a Master as he seemed? Could he drive the fear away?

  She had a feeling if anyone could, it would be him. At least she hoped that was the case. She wanted him to be that good. That was probably just as worrisome a compulsion as that darkness of her past, rising to sweep her away in its grasp.

  Chapter Five

  As she pulled against the right chain, testing it, Garron stroked her hair, tugged it. “That’s it, my lady. Make sure of it. You’re caught, and all mine.”

  Back when he’d been studying her in the monitor, he’d contemplated whether the worst of the physical struggle between them was over, and concluded “not yet.” She had too many reasons to stay hypervigilant, and too many triggers for them. She was right, what she’d said earlier. It was a miracle that she’d suspended disbelief to come this far. Vardalos was good, but not that good. She must have been near a breaking point to come here and risk so much. He’d seen her express a fuck-the-consequences reaction a couple times now, reinforcing that theory.

  A vampire having a midlife crisis. He could handle all that. It was just a matter of managing those triggers with her, staying ahead of them.

  He circled behind her, left a kiss on her temple. She was doing that body quiver thing again, and he banded an arm around her waist. She preferred full body contact, did that little melting thing against him every time, yet when he cupped her breast, tested the hold of the clover clamps, she flinched. Time to get rid of those. They were moving into the wrong kind of pain.

  Moving around to her front, he unclamped the clovers, and her face tensed in response, her body bowing against the pain. He put his hand against her back and knelt to take her right nipple into his mouth, spreading his lips wide so he could suckle not only on the tender bud, but mouth the flesh around it. He covered the other nipple with his hand, pressed on it, a gentle palm massage as she made tiny noises of distress, caught up in the discomfort of the blood returning.

  He soothed only as long as was needed to get her past the initial agony and straightened. Capturing her mouth with his, he put his hand between the clitoral stimulator and her body. As he rubbed a slow rotation over her clit and mound, she made uncertain complaints in his mouth, disjointed things that turned into a sexy little sigh of frustration as he removed his hand. Since he was all about feeding a sub’s frustration, seeing how hot he could make her, he raised the setting on the clitoral stimulator before he stepped back. As she started to yank against the chains again, work herself against the ankle cuffs, he circled her, watching, measuring.

  “Yeah, you’ll be doing a lot of that. We’re going to test those bonds, my lady. See just how strong they are.”

  Thinking about what Vardalos had told him a second mark was, he was intrigued by the idea of being in her mind, of how much more information that would give him as a Master. He could watch the flow of reactions in her head, see them matched in her body, her facial reactions. He’d relied on the other signs too long to become too dependent on what was going on in her head, but it would be a gift, getting both. A woman’s reactions could be a tangled mess when she was aroused, the emotional and physical a complex tapestry that required his full concentration. He suspected being in a female vampire’s mind might be just as much information overload. It would take some skill to manage all of it, but his instinct for a submissive’s needs were finely honed. He was up to it.

  He frowned now, because those instincts told him something was off. She was aroused, yes, the stimulator and the situation working together, but her jerking against the bonds was becoming a real fight, fueled by a touch of panic he’d sensed minutes ago, a short wave that was now back in greater strength in the vibrating energy around her.

  He wasn’t touching her or talking. She’d been using that to stay in the here and now. Realizing it, he quickly moved back in, touched her face, cradled it, let her feel the press of his body against hers. She liked his size, had fitted herself to him like she was under the shelter of a tree several times. It was an early sign of trust. He removed the blindfold, a tactical decision. The flood of relief in her gaze told him it was the correct one. He’d trapped her in darkness with something that had frightened her, something not in this room.

  Stroking her jaw, her temples, he spread out his fingers so they were fanned over her cheeks, eyes and forehead. He held them there, over her closed eyes. Through that contact, he felt her trying to steady herself.

  “Where did you go, my lady? What memory took you from me? From this room?”

  She shook her head. He could push, but she wasn’t ready to talk about it. He’d made himself a firm promise he would keep this session in the more physical realm, that a period of pure pleasure was needed before he threw them both into the emotional end again. That plan might have to change, but for now he made the judgment call to keep with his original strategy. It might just break the other loose.

  “All right. But keep your head in the game, else we’re going to chat and share our feelings.”

  That won a small smile out of her, and he brushed his hand along her shoulder, the silken skin of her hip. Yeah, she’d made herself tense.

  Some Masters were service tops. He had a fair bit of that in him, but he liked to mix it up. The only problem with staying a hundred percent in that service top zone was it didn’t allow for the mutual benefit that could come from a Dom making it all about what pleased him. Done correctly, it could pull a power service submissive out of the wrong headspace as she tried to keep up with his demands, as he made her take whatever he wanted to do, which could make her arousal intense to the point of losing her mind, a high he’d gladly ride all day long.

  Roan Abrams was the Master who’d designed Club Sin. During the times he returned to oversee further renovations or special Sin events, he and Garron had shared a few beers and debated the pros and cons of that, because Roan was a dedicated service top. But in this case, there was no room for debate. Garron was going to drive her fucking crazy, drive her to do things she’d never do in her ultra-controlled world. And enjoy the hell out of it himself.

  Pushing the stimulator up onto her mound kept her feeling the vibration in an indirect way but removed it from his path so he could play with her pussy as he wished. He kept his hand down there for quite a while, kneading, flicking, thrusting, pleasing himself until she was making those little noises in her throat, bucking against his hand. He wanted whatever had panicked her long gone. While he wanted to pull deeper things out of her, take it beyond play between them, he didn’t want those images to be what she carried out of the starting gate. He waited until he was sure her mind was a swirl of red lust. She was jerking against her bonds, but now she embraced the helplessness. Feared it in all the right ways. Her cunt was so wet he followed the tracks down her inner thighs, swirled patterns in the honey. Her thighs strained.

  “That’s it, my lady. Keep fighting those manacles. Remind yourself you’re spread for my pleasure.” Adjusting the stimulator back over her clit and putting it on a lower setting, he stepped back and stripped off his T-shirt. Moving back in, he brought himself full against her again. Yanking her head back, he spread slow, lingering kisses up and down her throat, her sternum, rubbed his chest against her breasts, liking the way her nipples stabbed him, how she tried to rub her mound against his cock, even with the interference of the stimulator and his jeans. The vibration tingled through his rigid sh
aft but he moved out of range, watching her lips twist in frustration, her head tilt as she tried to follow him with hearing and smell.

  Going to the cabinet that held his supplies, he withdrew a dildo the average thickness and length of a man’s cock and lubed it up from one of the pump bottles on the counter. There were three kinds. One standard lube, one with a warming oil, and one flavored with some spices that could make a woman writhe and scream from the fiery touch on her nipples or clit. Definitely not one he used in the anus, unless he was in the mood to cross the line of criminal sadism.

  The only way he’d be doing that was if one of the bastards who’d mistreated her was in those chains instead.

  He knew that was what had happened. He’d seen the signs before. In her world, there had to be some bad times when another vampire had taken what he wanted from her. Up until now, he hadn’t seen those indications of sexual abuse, but she was a warrior, a leader who couldn’t afford getting caught up in brutalities of the past. He understood that, as much as he understood that putting her in situations where she was helpless might bring them back to life. He was going to make her craving for more of what he was doing far greater than any memory.

  Parting her buttocks, he probed her ass with the slick tip of the dildo. Eased it in past tense outer and inner muscles. “Push out against it, let it all the way in. You resist it, it burns. There you go, my lady.”

  His own arousal cranked up several notches as he got it seated, imagined his own aching hard dick in there. “Hold it with your muscles. Keep clenching down on it. Your cunt muscles will work at the same time and everything will start to feel like one long climax. But you don’t come until I say, do you?”

  She shook her head. “No, Mas—”

  She cut herself off like she’d bitten herself. He steeled himself not to pounce like a tiger on a morsel of steak. “What was that, my lady?”