Captured By The Beast I

by Daniella Wright

  “Okay,” I said. He grinned at me, giving me a hot look through half-lidded eyes. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he wanted to devour me whole. And maybe he did. I closed my eyes when he moved closer to me, kneeling in front of me while I sat in my chair.

  “Go on then,” he said softly, “ask away.”

  “Okay,” I said breathlessly, looking down at his face, at his wolfish grin and those hypnotizing eyes. I was squirming in the chair and he knew it. I could tell this was going to be interesting, to say the least. “How old are you?”

  He thought about it for a moment, then decided to reach his hand up to touch my face, barely touching my lip with his thumb. He stroked it fully again and I parted my lips for him automatically. He leaned in to kiss me but stopped an inch or so away, looking into my eyes instead.

  “I am over seven-thousand years old,” he said, brushing his lips over mine. Then he pulled back and looked at me with a soft smirk on his face. I knew my mouth was still open, still waiting, and I closed my lips and held his eye. “Next question.”

  “Where are you originally from?” I asked. He dipped his hand from my face to my neck, then to my shoulder, which he traced with his finger as he spoke.

  “I am a Native,” he said, and even those words, just the way he spoke them, seduced me. “My people were from many places.”

  “I see,” I said, my voice trembling. He brought his lips to my neck then and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to it, then sank just the tips of his long fangs into the sensitive skin there, just enough so that I could feel it. My heart sped up with something between fear and desire, the second overpowering the first. Instead of biting into me though, he brought his lips to my ear.

  “I want to taste you,” he growled softly, sending a shiver through my body. “Your mouth, your sex, your blood…”

  My reply was a deep sigh that I could feel in every part of my body. I was squirming, hot and wet and swollen between the legs. I was desperate for him to kiss me, to touch me further. But that wasn’t the game we were playing. He got to do what he wanted while I got the answers to my questions. I got no say in what he did.

  “Do you have any other questions?” he asked, looking at me and grinning. “Or are you going to let me do this for free?”

  I licked my lips, gazing into his eyes.

  “How old were you when you became a vampire?” I asked. He kissed me softly then, barely touching his lips to mine.

  “I was twenty-eight,” he said. “Another question. Quickly.”

  “Who turned you?” I asked. He pressed his mouth to mine, then, kissing me slowly but with fervor. I allowed his tongue in to taste mine, to tease my mouth while I kissed him back. I wrapped my hands in his long, dark hair and held him close to me while he ravaged my mouth. He pulled away after a long moment, smiling at me.

  “An old friend,” he said, but that was the only answer he gave to that question. I decided to ask him about it again another time. For now, I wanted more of his mouth on mine. I lifted my face to captured his lips again and he kissed me hotly before moving back, crouching in front of me again so that his face was just above my lap.

  “Pull your dress up,” he commanded, and my first instinct was to tell him no, to say that this was going too far. But I did what he said, unable to help myself, and shifted my body so that I could lift the dress above my hips.

  “Next question,” he prompted, looking into my eyes. His fangs were bared, sticking down over his bottom lip. He looked completely sexy and somehow monstrous at the same time. I wondered what he was going to do to me. His voice was in my head, telling me he wanted to taste me, my sex, my blood.

  “Do you ever--” I had to pause, losing my voice when he parted my legs and brushed his lips just on the inside of my knee. When my voice faltered, he looked up at me and raised an eyebrow, smirking.

  “Do you ever do this? When you come here?” I asked, suddenly wanting to know. “How many women have you played this game with?”

  “This game in particular?” he said, nipping at my inner thigh. “Just you, Emilia. I wish I would have known how fun this was.”

  I shivered, because at that moment he nuzzled his face between my thighs, spreading them wider open. His mouth was near my mound; all he had to do was turn his head and he’d be able to kiss me there. Instead, he licked the inside of my thigh just a couple of inches below the juncture between my legs. Then he sank his teeth into it, and there was only a pinch of delicious pain before I couldn’t feel anything but pleasure coursing toward me. It didn’t feel like being drained, like being fed from. It felt more like he was doing the opposite, releasing energy into my body that tingled my skin from head to toe. When he was finished, he lapped at the small wounds he had made with his teeth, then stood up slowly.

  “I think that’s all for the questions tonight,” he said, smiling at me, a gleam in his eye. I felt breathless and on edge and was close to begging for more from him, but my pride wouldn’t let me.

  “Okay,” I breathed. “Thank you for answering my questions.”

  He grinned at me irresistibly and I wanted to kiss him again. I was so full of desire I thought I’d erupt with it.

  “No, Emilia, thank you,” he said. I cast one last glance at him before leaving the room, knowing I was walking out of the bar flushed and red and obviously agitated. I got to my car before anybody noticed me, and pulled away still shaking, wondering when and if I’d see the vampire again, and wondering if it was a good idea.

  Chapter 3: Eli

  I waited for a few days before contacting Emilia. She had thoroughly enjoyed our little game, I could tell. If I had wanted to turn my mouth to her sex, to taste her through her panties, she would have been more than eager to let me. Instead, I had teased her. It made everything that much sweeter—her blood had been hot and her pulse strong. Drinking from her inner thigh had been an erotic experience for me all on its own, and I wanted to repeat it over and over. I wondered how she was feeling after our meeting, if she had any regrets at all about what we’d done. She certainly hadn’t shown any when she left that evening, instead giving me a look like she wanted to be underneath me with her legs spread, taking my cock like a good girl. Just the thought of it made me hard, and I was feeling pretty wired when I called her.

  “Hello?” she answered, her voice clear as a bell, sensual.

  “Hello, Emilia,” I said. “This is Eli.”

  “Oh,” she said, almost breathless on the other end of the phone. “Hi.”

  “I was wondering if you’d like to meet me at one of the night cafes,” I asked. “I’d like to talk to you further.”

  Emilia didn’t hesitate to agree. I smirked; she really had enjoyed our time together and was eager for more, I could tell. Her voice was full of longing, and I stirred in my seat with my body’s reaction to the sound of it.

  “Good,” I said. “Tonight?”

  “Yes,” she said. We made plans to meet at a café not far from where I lived. I looked forward to it all evening, thinking about the way her lips had parted beneath mine, the scent of her wet flower through the front of her soaked panties.

  I got to the café early and took a seat at one of the tables in the corner, waiting for her to arrive. She showed up looking radiant in a blue dress that brought out her eyes. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her as she moved toward the table, her every step graceful and delicate. She sat down across from me and held my eye for a long time before speaking.

  “Hello, Eli,” she said. “How are you?”

  “I’m well,” I told her. “Better now. How are you?”

  “I’m, um, fine,” she said. I could tell her body was already reacting to mine. She was squirming in her chair just being near me. The idea of her being wet already, being ready for my cock, was a lot to bear. “Why did you want to meet here? It’s so different from last time.”

  I smiled. “Do I detect a hint of disappointment in your voice, Emilia?” I asked, leaning forward so that I was close
to her face. She looked at my lips and then met my eyes, staring at me through her lashes. “Did you enjoy our little interview?”

  Emilia blushed a deep red and bit her lip, then looked away. “Yes,” she admitted in a small voice. “I did.”

  I thought about it for a minute.

  “Let’s do it again,” I said, and she looked at me again, her eyes bright. “We’ll meet for these interviews at the bar and play a game or two while we’re at it.”

  She nodded, agreeing. She was on edge, I could tell from the way she shifted in her seat, rubbing her thighs together just thinking about that night. The sight of her so aroused got me hard immediately.

  “I love to tease you, you know,” I said in a low voice. “You get so wet for me. I’m dying to taste you.”

  She gazed at my face in wonder, her lips parted. I wanted to lean in and kiss her, but that wasn’t part of the game. I would have to wait until I had her in that room again, her body hot and ripe for whatever I was willing to do to her. It drove me crazy to be near her and not able to touch her; I wanted to take her to the bar that night, and that’s exactly what I did. She didn’t hesitate when I suggested she get in my car and we go to the club together.

  Once there, I made her stand in front of me so that I could examine every inch of her body in that dress. I wanted to peel it off of her, and I could tell she wanted the same. Instead, I stood in front of her, our faces inches apart.

  “Ask me a question,” I commanded softly. She looked at me straight in the eye, opening her mouth to speak.

  “What was your family like?”

  I pulled her against me, taking a slow step forward. My hands toyed with the hem of her dress as she stared at me, wide-eyed and hungry.

  “My family was very important,” I told her, leaving out the part about my being the vampire king. I wasn’t sure I was ready for her to know yet. “My mother was beautiful and my father, was, well… he was my father. A strange man.” In truth, thinking about my father pained me. He had been a stern man, near abusive to all of us, and at that point I wasn’t strong enough to fight against him. It had been hard growing up.

  “Did you have any siblings?” she asked, and I took a step back, letting her go. She had a bereft look on her face that made me want to take her into my arms again, but I wanted her to be patient.

  “Take off that dress,” I told her. “Now.”

  She peered at me for a moment, biting her lip. Then she pulled her dress over her head, leaving her in nothing but a pair of sheer pink panties that I could tell were wet even from where I was standing. I gave a low growl and resisted the urge to drop to my knees. She was so tempting, so perfect that I found it hard to keep up our game, to take it slow instead of bending her over the chair and taking her roughly from behind like I wanted. But I also wanted to hear her beg for it eventually, and I wanted to build up to the ultimate prize of her body until she was good and ready.

  “Now play with your nipples,” I told her, but she shook her head.

  “I get another question,” she told me, smiling coyly. “What’s the best thing that ever happened to you?”

  “Right now,” I said, “it feels like you.”

  She grinned. “That’s a cop out answer.”

  “It’s the best answer I have,” I said. “Now do as I say, Emilia.”

  I watched as she tentatively lifted her hands to her breasts, holding my eyes. She took her nipples between her fingers and gently pinched them before circling the hard peaks with her fingertips. The sight was so erotic I could have melted into a puddle on the floor. The fact that she was standing there so bravely, bare in front of me, drove me wild with lust.

  She stopped asking questions for the night after that. I didn’t have sex with her, nor did I touch her at all. I wanted to see her perform for me, to see how far she would go. She went as far as rubbing herself through her panties with two of her fingers, stroking her folds while standing in front of me. Her whole body was flushed and she was looking at me almost shyly. We spent the rest of the night playing that game, and when she left and tried to kiss me, I pulled my face away and grinned.

  “Next time,” I told her. “Maybe.”

  She gave a soft sigh and walked out of the room, her hips swaying back and forth in the most intoxicating rhythm. I continued to think about her after she was gone, wondering exactly how this whole thing was going to play out.

  Chapter 4: Emilia

  We met three days a week at the bar. I would have gone for more, would have gone there every day if he would have let me. Our interviews began to become less about the questions and more about the play. He was getting rougher with me, closer to fucking me each time we met. I knew he was getting close, because there would be moments when he was trembling against me, clearly holding himself back. To know that I affected him as much as he affected me gave me a sense of power, even when I was behaving as his submissive. I got a thrill out of being obedient to him, I had to admit to myself. Everything he told me to do, everything we did together made me hotter and hotter until I was burning at all times, more than ready for him to touch me.

  One night I showed up to the bar and he gave me a hot look. He took my arm and pulled me roughly to him, taking my mouth in a sensual kiss. Then he turned me around, took both of my wrists and pulled them behind my back. I felt the silk tie wrap around my wrist tightly as he tied it together. I tried to pull my hands apart but it was no good—he had tied it thoroughly to make sure that I couldn’t get out. We had done some pretty dirty things before this but this was the first time he’d restrained me. I turned around to look at him, my hands behind my back.

  “No questions today,” he said, his gaze caressing my skin, warming me from the inside out. “Today, you’re mine. You’re to do as I say. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, rubbing my thighs together beneath my skirt.

  “Stop that,” he commanded, putting his hand on my thigh and patting it to indicate I should spread my legs. “No pleasuring yourself. That’s for me and me alone.”

  “Yes, okay,” I said. He clicked his tongue.

  “What did I tell you to call me?”

  “Sir,” I said softly. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good girl,” he said gently, stroking my face with his fingertips. “Very good. Now I want you to bend over that chair over there. Quickly.”

  I did as he told me, folding my body in half and draping my front end over the chair so that my ass was in the air. I felt him move behind me, felt his hands stroke my spine, move down over my body to cup my mound from behind. He slipped one finger inside of me and began to pump it in and out, teasing me, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to help but respond. I began to grind against his finger and he pulled it away, slapping my backside with his bare hand. I winced at the stinging blow but squirmed, rubbing myself against the chair, out of control. I was overwhelmed with pleasure, overwhelmed with the arousal of the punishment. He spanked me more and I knew my skin was getting redder and redder under the pressure of his hand, but I loved it. I let out a low moan and he stopped, rubbing my sore skin with his hand.

  “I told you not to pleasure yourself,” he chided, smacking my ass again. “Don’t you ever want to be fucked? Only good girls get to be fucked, Emilia.”

  “I do want it,” I protested, because in that moment, I would have given anything to have it. I couldn’t help but to squirm against the chair. It was an automatic response to my body needing stimulation between my legs. I heard him make a low noise behind me and turned my head to see that his red eyes were filled with flames, his jaw tight. Then he began to undress behind me. I knew what was coming, knew from that look on his face that he was finally going to give in. And he did, at first rubbing his cock up and down my lower lips, teasing my bud with the head of it. Then he entered me from behind in a slow stroke, filling me up in one push forward. He began to fuck me slowly, still teasing me, using his cock this time. He hit the back of my channel with a force that knocked the wind out of me but
still didn’t move very fast. When I tried to back myself against him, he held my hips still and continued his slow thrusting. It was driving me crazy and I gave a frustrated cry when he pulled out of me.

  “Please, no,” I said, my voice soft and desperate. “Please fuck me, Eli. I can’t take it anymore.”

  “I know, baby,” he said, stroking my ass again. He spanked me twice, a punishment for begging. I was supposed to keep quiet, to take what he gave me gratefully. But I couldn’t help it. I needed more and I needed it now. Blessedly, he slid inside of me again and began to move in and out in quicker strokes. This time, he let me throw myself back at him, meeting his forward thrusts with my backward strokes. His hand wrapped in my hair and he pulled it in one handful, arching my back and using my body for leverage as he began to pound into my channel. It felt so good that my knees went out and I sagged against the chair, or would have if he wouldn’t have been holding the top half of my body up by pulling my hair. With his free hand, he spanked me again, and that made me come hard all over his cock. I couldn’t help it. I knew I’d be in trouble; he always made me ask permission to come, but I didn’t care and I couldn’t control it.