by Joey W. Hill
Fuck. He leaned against the bar because he figured his profile, even with the denim, was pretty obvious.
Straighten up, cowboy. Her voice was sharp. Be proud of what pleasures your Mistress.
Damn if he didn't do it, because as the command resounded through his head, he felt that response leap to life inside him. His response aroused her, and hers, his, a powerful, never-ending spiral.
That was the key to it, wasn't it? When he pictured himself bending over, letting some guy take him up the ass, he knew no way in hell could he do that. But when he put her in the picture...
That purring voice, those eyes so close as she drew him down upon her on the bed, telling him to fuck her as some guy approached behind, ran a hand down his back, parted his cheeks and... Quinn would plunge into her pussy, and it would be all about her. He'd come because she was using him for her pleasure.
If it was for her, he could do it.
Admittedly, only if it was once in a while, like for birthdays, Christmas and the annual head-vampire muckety-muck get-together. He much preferred it being just the two of them. He really didn't want to share or be shared. But he really didn't want to muck out stalls or prepare for taxes. He didn't like going to the dentist and having him stick his hands in his mouth. But he did those things because they went along with the things he really did want. A successful ranch, a job well done, a life worth living, the good and bad all part of it.
Knowing in his gut that Selene wanted it to be just the two of them, living their quiet life out here, would help make the distasteful stuff even more feasible to him.
His dad had given him the sex talk, but his mom had followed it up with the love and marriage talk.
One day you'll want to be with a girl always, like your father and I have done. I see your heart. Out of all your brothers, you're the one with the deepest wish for a forever kind of thing, even though right now it's boiling among all those hormones. She'd given him an affectionate swat as he flushed, ducked his head.
That's normal, boy. But when you do find her, there's this odd thing about loving someone. Sometimes it's more bad than good. You have hard times together. It isn't easy, fitting your life together with another and making it work year after year. But I can promise you, if you're meant to be, you'll figure out one good moment is stronger than ten bad ones. Love is worth it, and if you have love, you figure out how to make things work. Then even the bad stuff becomes part of loving someone, as much as the good.
"Here you go, boss." The bartender broke into his thoughts, pushing the two drinks across the bar to him.
Quinn nodded, handed over the money, then made his way back through the crowd. The dinner crowd had died off and was being replaced by the drinking and dancing crowd, making the noise level rowdier, the crowd bigger. He was startled but not entirely surprised when he passed a group of girls and one of them took the opportunity to grab his ass. Hell, big as his dick was, he was lucky she hadn't tried for that. He maneuvered out of her grasp, gave her a genial look and a faint grin, the courteous body language of "Appreciate it, honey, but not available" and took another couple steps. Then Selene was there.
Because of the crush of people, no one would have noted she'd gotten there so quick, but he saw the occupants of a couple tables behind her grabbing hold of their napkins as they seemed to flutter from a passing wind for no reason. But what had him putting the drinks down on a side table just as fast was her expression.
Those blue eyes were charged with those unnatural crimson flickers, and God above, he could see the tips of her fangs coming out as she got right up in the hapless half-drunk girl's face. The vibe she was putting off was scary enough to sober the kid right up.
"Not. Yours." Selene hissed, her hand curling around the edge of the table as if she might be a breath away from hurling it.
The girl's brown eyes were wide as saucers. On a usual day, facing something normal, she looked like the feisty sort who might have made a smart-ass remark, started a catfight, but every animal in the world, even human, knew when they were facing something far more dangerous than themselves.
She lifted both hands, palms up, and shrank back in the chair. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered. "We were just playing."
"Play with something else."
Not sure if it was the best decision, Quinn slid an arm around his Mistress' waist, gave it a faint squeeze, a pressure to move them toward the door. She was just admiring your taste, Mistress. She's young and drunk. It's okay. She's just a kid.
Something shuddered through Selene. She'd mentioned something about a marked servant being able to lend energy, and apparently a second mark could do some of that, because he actually felt her reach into him, dip into his calm like a well to quench thirst.
She might be his Mistress, but he also had power. To influence, encourage, persuade her where no one else might be able to do the same. He could use it right now, to help her in this situation. Tightening his grip, he brushed his lips against her temple as if it was just the two of them, no one else.
Let's go somewhere else. My Mistress wants to fuck me, prove I'm hers. I'm all for that.
Stiffly, Selene straightened. Taking the cue, Quinn gripped her hand, left the drinks behind and headed for the door. He'd have told the girls they could have the beer and mojito if they wanted them, but he thought it best if he just focused on Selene.
Once outside, he took them toward his truck. Selene was wooden and silent, perhaps fighting her emotions. Then she decided to turn the aggression outward.
She didn't push him back against the truck. She shoved him, such that he almost had to dig his boot heels into the asphalt to keep from going through it. As it was, he was pretty sure his ass print was going to be permanently embedded in the door panel. But he had other things to occupy his mind other than body work. Well, body work on the truck.
She had herself against him, leaving her high heels behind to step on his feet, raise up and claim his mouth. He was more than willing to match her passion, bending to make it easier on her, his arms closing over her, both hands taking a nice handful of her ass and hiking her up his body. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, his back, his nape, tugging on his hair as she scored his lips with her fangs, delved deep with her tongue, stroking his. Her need washed over him, took everything else away.
He realized he was making a noise like a soothing growl, conveying his eager lust and confirming he was all hers.
Right here. Now. Keeping one arm looped over his neck, she reached down between them, tugged at his belt and slipped the top button of his jeans, pushing the zipper down so she could reach right in beneath his shorts, close her hot hand around his throbbing cock. She stroked it with clever, knowledgeable fingers, had his arms tightening around her, his hips bucking into it.
"Christ, Selene. Wait..."
"No waiting. You'll come for your Mistress like this, any way she wants it."
"Let me be inside you." He grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanked her head back to look at him. She made that dangerous hiss at him, showing her fangs, and he closed his mouth back over hers, growling more aggressively this time as she bit him, tasted his blood. I want to fuck you. Make you scream, Mistress.
In the truck. That's as long as I'll wait.
He didn't have a vampire's speed, but he managed to get around to the passenger side and put the two of them into that seat, the door closed and locked, pretty damn fast. She straddled him, and he pushed his jeans out of the way as she came down on him, rubbing the silk of her panties against his length. Reaching beneath the short skirt, he tore the panties away, not in the mood to be much more patient than she was. She slammed down on his cock, her pussy already so wet there was no resistance beyond accommodating his thick size. Her internal muscles clenched him, and as she began to rise and fall, he wanted to taste every part of her. He tugged the strap of her dress off her shoulder, revealing her breast cradled high and quivering in a tiny scrap of bra that barely covered her nipple.
He
slid an arm over her back, brought her down to him as her hips pistoned. He kissed and licked his way over her generous curves, tugging down the other side of the dress so he could play in the valley between, curl his tongue along one lace-edged curve and find her nipple beneath, lash at it. His cock was in seventh heaven, her slick pussy clamped like a vise over him as she drove them purely for her own pleasure. All he wanted was to give her more.
"Come for me, Quinn," she ordered. He caught the flash of her eye before she lifted her chin, arched back, her own body tightening in climactic response. "I want to feel you."
Damn if the order alone didn't shove him the last few steps up that ladder and launch him off the end. His mind might still fight with the idea of how she could overwhelm his will, but his body had no questions, the issue resolved for all time as far as it was concerned.
He came hard, groaning and grunting like a rutting bull, and she cried out her release in a way that twined with his, resounded through the truck, made the noises reverberate inside the small space, become part of the sensations vibrating through them.
Before he'd barely finished jetting that last hard shot of seed into her, she was moving down his body, mouth and teeth tasting his chest, the ridges of his abdomen. She was such a petite thing, she made it to the floorboards, and when she did, she had hold of the jeans and pulled them down to his knees, leaving him bare-assed on the seat.
"What--"
He saw a flash of her blue eye under a fall of silky blonde hair, and then the gleam of her fangs. He let out an oath as they stabbed into his inner thigh, making him arch up in reaction as she locked onto the femoral there. He felt the rush of blood, a result of his still-racing heart. Yet his reaction wasn't fear. Instead, he put his hand back on her head, fingers twining in her hair as he settled, widened his thighs to make sure she had the room she needed to feed. She had one hand clasped around his thigh above the knee, the other sliding up to hold his cock and balls, knead and stroke. She was right about the second mark, because instead of softening as his cock usually did right after a climax, it stayed semi-hard, as if proving it would take half the time to get ready for her again.
I could kill you like this, Quinn. Simply keep drinking until you died from loss of blood. It would take longer, with the second mark, but it doesn't protect you from that.
Not the way the third mark will, hmm? He stroked her hair as he breathed deep, slowing his racing heart. She didn't respond, just focused on her meal. When she was done, she licked him as she usually did, which he was beginning to realize was some way of coagulating the blood, because whenever she raised her head, the meal done, the wound wouldn't run like a cut from ranch work would. Unless she wanted to see that flow of blood, that is.
"Enough?" he rumbled, tracing her cheek, her lips. Her gaze was fastened on him in that way that told him nothing of what she was thinking. Could be good, could be bad. He'd wait and see, and deal with whatever came.
"I don't think the problem's going to be me being okay with a stronger vampire taking a taste of me," he said casually. "You seem to get rowdy about it faster than me."
"I expect that had to do with a pretty girl grabbing you instead of a man." She left the floorboards, surprising him when she coiled in his lap, her legs over the console, feet in the driver's seat. He shifted to tuck her head beneath his chin, closed his arms around her. Selene wasn't really the cradling-in-the-lap type, but he didn't mind the change of pace.
"Makes you feel manly, does it?"
"It does at that." He brushed his lips over her forehead. "You okay, honey?"
"Yeah." She sighed, irritable. "Goddamn impulse issues. I never had a problem before. At least not one I noticed."
"Maybe it's the first time since you became a vampire you've found someone you really want to be with. So it's kind of like a teenager with his first love, setting off a whole new set of hormones. All part of 'growing up', vampire style."
She tilted back her head, eying him. "I know I'm not giving you my thoughts, so it's uncanny how you're picking up on them."
"I'm just glad you have a sense of humor about it. It shouldn't upset you, you know. If some guy had grabbed your ass in there, I would have put him through a wall and then followed him out to kick him across the parking lot."
She gave a half-chuckle, an encouraging sound. Though she wasn't letting him in to see what was happening in her head, he had a feeling she was pretty pissed at herself about it. It was still vibrating off her skin. She'd just taken a lot of the mad-with-herself part of it out through violent sex with him. Which worked great as a mutually beneficial solution, all in all.
Another half-chuckle. "Men. So easy. Do you care about nothing else?"
"I'm just glad we drove into the city for dinner. Else the scuttlebutt at the Nightfall post office would go something along the lines of..." He affected a gossipy old woman's tone, exaggerating his Texas drawl. "'Did you know Quinn was getting it on with that hot new bar manager behind the all-night diner, his pants to his knees and everything hanging out for God to see?'"
"And let me tell you, God has blessed that boy," she responded in the same affected voice, reaching down to close her hand over God's blessings, which was getting more proud about it, especially as she started to stroke and squeeze. He closed his eyes, trying to keep it under control, but a little bite of her nails had him meeting her gaze.
"You keep it under control when I say, Quinn. If I want to make you come in my hand right now, you will. Remember? Who controls your climax?"
He studied her face, the beauty of it, the complicated layers in her eyes, her expression, and suddenly felt his heart twist. What if she didn't give him the third mark? What if she disappeared from his life?
"You, Mistress. Only you. Now and always. All right?" He framed her face, putting his desire, his demand in the touch, his voice. Maybe she'd prefer it to be more of a plea, but he wasn't built that way and he was banking on how she liked that side of him. He hoped so, because he wasn't seeing it changing this century.
"A third mark lives to be three hundred, on average," she said, turning her face to slide her lips over his palm. The tip of her tongue traced the crevice between two fingers, and then she sucked on his middle finger, biting it gently before she straightened. She pulled up the straps of her dress, though she kept him the way he was, jeans down, her bare pussy pressed against his genitals. "The only thing that kills you, other than my death, is some kind of catastrophic dismemberment, like beheading, which basically kills everything, or steel through the heart."
"So for vampires, it's a wooden stake. For a servant, steel? That's peculiar."
She shrugged. There are many things about the relationship between vampire and servant that defy explanation. "For instance, when a human is given a third mark, a mark will appear somewhere on your body, usually something symbolic that represents the relationship between the two. We don't direct or impose that. It just happens." Her gaze shadowed. "I expect centuries ago, it would have been called the Devil's mark."
"Or maybe it's another symbol of 'what God has brought together, let no man rend asunder'."
Her gaze lifted to him. "Oh Quinn. What am I going to do with you?"
"Well, what you just did is great. But you know what I want. And..." He twined his fingers around a lock of her hair, thinking how it always felt softer and silkier than anything she wore, and she wore plenty of soft, pretty things, "I wouldn't be pushing it so hard if I didn't have the feeling you want it too."
"As we've seen, what I want may not always be well thought out. Maybe in a hundred years..."
"In a hundred years, I'll be dead. Maybe it's the same no matter when you meet a human servant. Maybe whether the vampire's sixty or three hundred, the two people involved just know."
Her gaze shuttered again, her mouth tightening, which told him more than he expected she wanted him to know.
"You've been told it's like that, haven't you?" he asked.
"Yes. But that's not the po
int." She held up a hand. "Enough. Seriously, Quinn. Stop." She took a breath. "You're not to bring up this subject in any way. Subtly, metaphorically, directly, until I'm ready to discuss it again. Understood?"
It was a pretty damn important topic to him, but he could tell by the set of her jaw she meant it. He nodded, then at her look, he added, "Yes ma'am." Though he gave her a bit of that drawl, a glint to his eye, that had her narrowing her gaze in return.
"We're not going to see one another this week," she decided. "I'll come to you then, after I've had time to think about this on my own. No jerking off, no wet dreams, so you better calm yourself before you sleep, cowboy. You won't talk to me unless I reach out to talk to you during that time. Got it?"
Fucking hell. He couldn't imagine going a few hours without her, let alone a full week. "Yeah. Ow, Jesus." He jumped when she reached down between them, pinched his cock hard enough he figured she'd transformed her fingers to pincers. "Dammit, woman..."
"When I come to you Sunday, you better be prepared to take that strap-on we've been talking about." Leaning forward, she spoke against his mouth, her fingers curling around his throat, constricting just enough to let him feel the reduced air flow. "I'll put you through your paces, see if you truly do have what it takes to be my servant. Up until now, I've been holding back with you. You need to think on that."
All he could think about now was that strap-on, and how he was going to get through the week with that running through his head. She cocked a brow. "Perhaps before I decide on giving you a third mark, I'll brand you with one of your irons, give you a mark that's all my creation. Can you stand still while I do that to you, Quinn?"
In her eyes, he could tell putting red-hot metal to sizzling against his flesh was more than a teasing threat. She meant it. The crazy thing was the idea, as unnerving as it was, got a leap of response from his heart and his cock. She must have felt both, for her lips did that tightening thing again, as if she was restraining her own reaction.
"There will be no way to prepare for what I demand of you, Quinn. You must open up your will and be entirely mine. You understand?"
