DARK ANGEL'S SURRENDER

by I. T. Lucas

  “I love it and hate it at the same time.” She dropped her head on the pillow. “I love how every sensation is amplified by the lack of sight, but I hate not seeing you. I’ve never seen you truly aroused.”

  “It’s not a pretty sight. I drool,” he said to make her laugh, which was so unlike him. Brundar didn’t know what had possessed him to do it.

  But it worked. Calypso giggled. “No way. I know you don’t.”

  He pulled out the stockings and tied them to the four corners of the bed. “I do. I can’t help it. You’re so drool-worthy. Whenever I see you naked, my tongue lolls like a dog’s. A visual not at all conducive to your arousal.” He secured her left wrist with the stocking, then moved to the right.

  She cooperated beautifully, stretching her arms and legs, spread-eagled for him. “Do you really? Because I can’t hear you panting.”

  Brundar leaned over her and kissed her lips. “You’re going to hear me panting very soon.” He nipped those perfect puffy pillows. “When I’m buried deep inside you.”

  Calypso was stunning all over, but her lips were his favorite. No, that wasn’t true, her green eyes were, especially when they were smiling. But the lips were a very close second.

  Her perky nipples were third.

  Dipping his head, he took one into his mouth, sucking it in and licking round and round, then repeated the same on her other side while reaching for the ice cubes.

  He pulled one out and touched it to the nipple he’d just finished warming up with his mouth.

  Calypso hissed and arched her back. “That’s cold. You’re mean.”

  He moved the ice cube to her other breast and took the chilled nipple into his mouth. Going back and forth, Brundar fell into a predictable rhythm, letting Calypso learn the sequence and relax into the contrasting sensations.

  When the ice cube melted, he pulled another one out of the glass and slowly trailed it down her belly until he reached the juncture of her thighs. Calypso hissed again, but then sighed with pleasure as his tongue replaced the ice.

  “Oh, that’s much better.”

  He replaced his hot tongue with the cold ice, then his tongue again, lapping up the melted water together with her juices, then chilling her again until the ice cube was no more.

  Calypso might have hissed and whined, but the powerful scent of her arousal betrayed the pleasure she derived from the torment.

  “You like this, sweetling, don’t you?” He pushed a finger into her wet heat.

  She shook her head, then quickly nodded when he removed his finger. “Don’t stop, please.”

  He chuckled, returning with two and curling them up to touch that sensitive spot that had her arching off the bed as far as her restraints allowed her.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered as he took his clothes off. “I can never get enough of looking at you.” He covered her with his body, his heavy length wedged between her thighs.

  Calypso panted, her hips swiveling under him, urging him on. “Don’t tease me, Brundar. I need you inside me.”

  Turned on by her frantic gyrations, he cupped her cheeks and kissed her long and deep. “Poor, baby, I think I’ve teased you enough.” He surged into her.

  “Yes.” She threw her head back, her arms straining against her bonds which aroused her and frustrated her at the same time.

  Brundar knew Calypso wanted to touch him, and the truth was that he wanted that too. He craved her arms around him, her fingers digging into his back and holding him tight, and her nails leaving small moon-shaped gouges on his skin.

  It was too late to do anything about it now. Sheathed inside her wet heat, he could do nothing other than move, faster, harder, until he was pounding into her without holding back, mindlessly driven by a primitive urge to claim, to possess, to plant his seed inside her.

  As Calypso shouted her climax, Brundar kept going, wringing another one from her. When his own erupted, his guttural groan sounding more animal than human, he clamped his fangs on her neck and bit down.

  Calypso climaxed again.

  Chapter 45: Tessa

  “Ladies, can I have your attention please.” Karen clapped her hands. “Please form a circle around me.”

  She waited until everyone was in position. “Today, you are going to practice on each other. I’m going to pair you up according to skill, not size. Because what is my motto?” She put a cupped hand to her ear.

  “Size doesn’t matter!” they all responded—some mumbling in obvious disagreement, and some, like Tessa, shouting it out with conviction.

  “That’s right,” Karen said. “Skill compensates for size.” She smirked. “And not only in a fight, eh?”

  Again, the responses were mixed.

  Karen waved a hand. “Those who disagree haven’t experienced real skill yet. When you do, you’ll come back here and tell me, Karen, you were right.”

  Tessa hid her smile. Being small had caused many of her insecurities, but thanks to Jackson and Karen she’d gotten over them. Karen had taught her that she could be a good fighter despite her size, and Jackson found her sexy and desirable even though she was small all over.

  And as to what Karen had hinted at not too subtly, Jackson was the whole package. He was both big and skilled. The perfect lover. They had made love three times in the cabin, and two times last night, and each time she’d climaxed, sometimes more than once.

  Five sessions of lovemaking, seven or eight orgasms, but only two bites.

  Apparently, once a day was the limit on venom bites as far as Jackson was concerned. Though she couldn’t understand why. He didn’t need to thrall her after biting her, and she wasn’t aware that the venom on its own could cause any damage.

  It was supposed to be a miraculous elixir, delivering fast healing, euphoria, and a string of orgasms.

  She’d wanted to ask Jackson if it was a physical limitation but then decided not to. After the wonderful weekend he’d treated her to, the last thing she wanted was to accidentally hurt his feelings.

  Still, she couldn’t help wondering if more venom bites would have resulted in a faster transition. Two were probably not enough to trigger it, so there was no reason to worry yet, but Tessa couldn’t help feel the tension mounting.

  It’s only Tuesday, she reminded herself. Give it at least a week.

  “Tessa, you are with Megan.” Karen pulled on both Tessa’s and Megan’s hands, leading them to where the other pairs were waiting.

  When everyone had a partner, Karen waved her hands wide. “Okay, girls, let’s spread out. Let’s start with the mugger move.”

  After half an hour, Tessa was sweating buckets, but Megan was in no better shape. In fact, she was panting so hard Tessa was afraid the woman might pass out.

  “Let’s take a break. I need a drink of water,” she said, more for Megan’s benefit than her own.

  Megan glanced at Karen for approval. The instructor nodded and clapped her hands. “Good work, ladies. Take a five-minute break to hydrate.”

  The class was divided into two camps. One comprised of those who were serious about self-defense, women who had worked their asses off for the past thirty minutes and looked no better than Tessa and Megan. The other camp, the one Sharon belonged to, joined the class to get in shape or just to hang out with friends, and had barely broken a sweat.

  Megan filled two paper cups with water from the cooler and handed one to Tessa. “I thought it would be easy to go up against you. But you’re proof that Karen is right and skill trumps size.” The woman was in her mid-thirties, heavier than Tessa by at least twenty pounds and half a head taller.

  But then Tessa had youth and energy on her side.

  Not that she felt very energetic at the moment. Her head was spinning, and she was a little nauseous. Blaming dehydration, Tessa gulped down the water, then refilled the cup and downed it too.

  It didn’t help. “I need to sit down for a moment.” She barely made it to the chairs lined up against one side of the room.

  Karen rus
hed to her. “Feeling dizzy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Put your head down.” She pressed on Tessa’s back until her head was between her spread knees. “Breathe in, and out, slowly, don’t force it. In and out.”

  Sharon crouched in front of her. “Do you want another cup of water? Do you have a headache? Because I have some Motrin in my purse.”

  Tessa shook her head, which worsened the dizziness. “I’m fine. Just give me a moment to catch my breath.”

  “Does she look pale, or am I imagining it?” Sharon asked Karen.

  “Don’t fuss so much. The girl pushed herself too hard, that’s all.” The instructor turned her back to Tessa, blocking her from the others’ view. “Back to work, ladies. Megan, you’re with me.”

  Thank God for Karen’s no-nonsense attitude. A few moments without anyone hovering over her would be golden.

  Trying to contain the nausea, Tessa closed her eyes and continued the careful breathing. For a few minutes, it seemed like it was helping, but then a violent twist in her stomach stole her breath and pushed everything out in a geyser of mostly water.

  A moment later she blacked out.

  “Oh, my God. I’m calling an ambulance.” Tessa heard Sharon as if she was talking through a tunnel.

  “Calm yourself down, Sharon. It’s just puke. My commandos puked all the time after I made them run on the sand for hours. The poor guys couldn’t keep up with me, but they sure as hell tried. That’s how endurance is built.”

  As consciousness returned, Tessa found herself lying on the floor with a towel folded under her head. Someone must have cleaned up the vomit, but the smell lingered, bringing the nausea back.

  Tessa’s stomach contracted again, and she lifted her torso, turning her head sideways, ready to hurl on the floor, when Karen stuck a wad of paper towels under her.

  “Just let it all out, girl.” Karen held her head up and pushed her hair out of the way. “You’ll feel better.”

  A little stinky liquid was all that she managed to purge.

  “Is she pregnant?” Tessa heard one of the women ask.

  She couldn’t be. Even if she were, she wouldn’t be puking a day or two after conceiving. It was either a virus or something she ate.

  “I’m calling Eva,” Sharon said.

  Tessa was too weak to protest. Besides, it might be a good idea for Bhathian to come pick her up. At the moment, walking to the car seemed like mission impossible.

  Someone came with a wet towel and gently wiped her face.

  “Thank you,” she managed feebly, struggling to stay awake.

  One by one the women left, with only Karen and Sharon remaining by her side.

  “Eva and Bhathian are coming to take you to a doctor,” Sharon said.

  Tessa knew better than to shake her head. Instead, she lifted her hand. “I want to go home. It’s just a stomach flu.”

  “The doctor will decide that.”

  “I stink.”

  “I’m sure you won’t be the first stinky patient or the last one the doctor sees.”

  Ugh, she was too weak to argue, and the temptation to close her eyes and drift away was too powerful to ignore.

  She must’ve dozed off, or maybe she’d blacked out again, because the next time Tessa opened her eyes, she was being carried by a pair of powerful arms. “Bhathian?”

  “I’m here, and so is Eva.”

  “You’re going to be fine, sweetheart.” Eva took her hand.

  “I want to go home,” she said as Bhathian laid her down on the back seat of his car.”

  Eva slid in and lifted Tessa’s head to rest on her lap. “We are taking you to see Bridget.”

  “Why? It’s just flu.”

  “It might be, but I want Bridget to take a look at you. Bhathian called Jackson, and he is going to meet us at the clinic.”

  “Do you think it can be the transition?”

  “I don’t know, sweetheart, that’s up to Bridget to decide. Now enough talking. Rest.”

  If she weren’t feeling so shitty, Tessa would’ve smiled. Even at twenty-one she still liked it when Eva treated her like a child.

  Being cared for was precious, reassuring. It proved that Tessa wasn’t alone, and if Eva had a say in it, she never would be.

  Chapter 46: Jackson

  “I’m leaving.” Jackson threw his apron on the counter. “Close up for me.”

  Vlad cast him a worried glance. “What happened?”

  “Tessa is not feeling well. Eva and Bhathian are taking her to Bridget.”

  Vlad’s pale face turned even paler. “Is it, you know, the transition?”

  “I don’t know.” Jackson grabbed his keys and opened the back door. “You’ll have to deal with whatever happens in here. I’m not leaving Tessa’s side even if the place is on fire. Not until she is well again, that is.”

  “Don’t worry about a thing. Gordon and I will manage. Let us know how Tessa is doing.”

  Jackson nodded. “Thanks.”

  It was probably flu. Vomiting wasn’t one of the typical symptoms of transition. Bridget had told him about fever and chills, and about passing out, but nothing about an upset stomach and puking.

  He stopped at Eva’s house to collect the overnight bag Sharon had packed for Tessa, deflected questions about where Bhathian and Eva had taken her, and rushed back to his car.

  Twenty minutes later he knocked on the clinic’s door and walked in.

  “Hi, Jackson. She is over there.” Bridget pointed.

  “How is she?”

  “Waiting for you impatiently. I told her that she can’t take a shower without assistance, and she doesn’t want anyone’s help but yours.”

  “I meant health wise.”

  Bridget shrugged. “I don’t think it’s anything serious. She has no fever and her blood pressure is stable.”

  Jackson let out a relieved breath. “So it’s not the transition.”

  “I didn’t say that. It might be.”

  “But you said it usually comes with a fever.”

  “”We have a very small group of transitioned Dormants, and each case was different.”

  Great. If the clan’s doctor didn’t have answers, who did?

  “I’ll go check on Tessa.”

  The door to her room was ajar, and he knocked on it while pushing it open.

  Tessa’s eyes brightened. “Jackson, you’re here. Did you bring me a change of clothes?”

  “Hello, Jackson.” Eva got up from the chair she’d been sitting on and gave him a quick hug.

  “Hi.” He barely spared Eva a half smile.

  His entire focus was on Tessa. She looked pale, and the dark circles under her eyes were more pronounced than usual, but she was sitting in bed and smiling at him.

  “And here I thought you were happy to see me.” He walked over and leaned to kiss her.

  She stopped him with a hand to his chest. “I stink of puke. Help me into the shower, will you?”

  “Of course.” He dropped the overnight bag on the floor.

  “I’ll leave you two alone and go find Bhathian.” Eva made a hasty exit.

  Tessa swung her legs over the side of the bed, but Jackson had no intention of letting her walk to the bathroom and scooped her into his arms.

  She looked away. “Close your nose. I don’t want you to smell me.”

  “Don’t be silly. It’s not like I never puked myself. Did I tell you about how Vlad and Gordon and I got drunk at Syssi and Kian’s wedding?” He marched into the utilitarian bathroom adjacent to the room and lowered Tessa to the stool inside the open shower.

  “I remember you telling me something about it.”

  Jackson pulled Tessa’s exercise shirt over her head. “We stole several bottles of whiskey and hid in one of the underground classrooms.” He crouched in front of her and pulled her leggings down. “We missed the whole party while getting shit-faced in there.”

  Tessa unclasped her bra and threw it on the floor outside the shower.


  Jackson helped her get her panties off. “We thought we were so tough and grown up, forcing that vile stuff down our throats to prove we were so cool.”

  “You don’t like whiskey?” she asked.

  “I hate it.” Jackson kicked off his shoes and removed his socks, then grabbed the handheld and turned the water on.

  “You are going to get wet. Take off your clothes.”

  Good point. “Here, hold this.” He handed her the shower head, got rid of his clothes, and got back into the shower with her.

  “Damn, I forgot to bring the bag in here. Sharon packed your shampoo and conditioner. I’ll be right back.” He grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his hips and ducked back into the room.

  “That’s a good look for you.” Bhathian chuckled. “You rock the Egyptian.”

  Jackson pointed a finger at him. “You didn’t see a thing.”

  “Right. How is Tessa?”

  “She seems fine. Just weak.”

  “Take care of her.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Jackson lifted the overnight bag and returned to the bathroom.

  Tessa was holding the handheld over her head, letting the water drench her chin-length hair.

  Rummaging through the bag, he pulled out her shampoo and conditioner.

  “Are you going to wash my hair?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  She nodded.

  Jackson wondered why he’d never thought of doing so before. Taking care of Tessa filled him with a sense of satisfaction, of purpose, he was meant to do that.

  Squirting a dollop into his hand, he stood behind her and gently massaged the shampoo into her hair.

  Tessa leaned back against him and sighed. “This feels heavenly.”

  “Tilt your head back, kitten.” He took hold of the handheld and rinsed the shampoo out of her hair, then repeated the process before applying conditioner.

  Her eyes closed, Tessa sat limply on the stool, letting him soap her and rinse her. By the time he was done, she was almost asleep.

  “Hang in there for a few moments longer.” Jackson was thankful for his long arms allowing him to reach for the towel without moving away from Tessa. He had a feeling she would fall over the moment he let go.