by Nia Farrell
Once everything had been transferred from the cart and room service was gone, Sebastian fetched Ashley. Helping her to her feet, he put a hand on the small of her back and guided her to a table set for two. She ate some of everything, but in small portions, and took more ibuprofen once they were done.
So far, she hadn’t complained of her back, but tonight might test her. “Before we leave, do you have any problems, issues, questions, or concerns? No? Once we leave this room, if you do, you are to place your hand on my arm or leg. I will allow you to speak as soon as the opportunity presents itself. We shall use your safewords, China and Singapore, unless that clever mind of yours has thought of something else.”
She smiled softly. “No, Master Sorin. My mind is too full of other things.”
“Good,” he said. “That’s settled. Time to get ready for pet play, my dear.”
Chapter Twelve
Ashley Slade continued to surprise him. She emerged from wardrobe, almost unrecognizable save for his handprints on her bare behind. Expertly applied makeup transformed her face into that of a Siamese cat. Her trademark platinum hair was braided and coiled behind her head. She approached him wearing nothing but a pair of Siamese cat ears, a matching tail, and a jeweled collar with a leash attached. When she handed him control, he noted that her blush nearly matched her bottom.
“Good pet,” he hummed, adjusting himself. “You’ll be the prettiest kitten here, I guarantee.”
He shortened his stride to make it easier for her to walk with a tail dangling from the plug in her ass. He was going to be hard-pressed to not fill it himself during playtime, as tempting as she was.
Tonight’s theme for the SSC side was inspired by the Kathryn Hepburn-Cary Grant film Bringing Up Baby. Replay’s owner Sir Piers and his wife Eleanor reprised the roles—except that Eleanor played the leopard Baby. Sir Josef and his partner Luc Vashon shared Aubrey Wolfe as their sparrow, making certain that one of them—usually Luc—remained with their visually-impaired submissive at all times. Marcus Vos, head of Replay’s security, had left his PTSD service dog at home; tonight, that role was played by his submissive Gini Shelton. The most exotic pet was Regina Wright as a dragon, controlled by her master, Scottish billionaire Micheil MacDonald.
For the most part, Ashley was content to sit at his feet, or curl in his lap and watch the action unfold around them. When her body required a change of positions, she asked permission, which he granted immediately. The night was young. He needed her to be comfortable and ready to play when the time came.
He enjoyed having her in his lap, where he could stroke her naked hip and feel the heat from her backside through his Dom leather pants. If Ashley had done palomino pony play, he would have carried a crop. As it was, he’d brought a spray bottle, filled with his favorite oil.
Her eyes widened when he told her. “Be a good kitten, and I may use it.”
Giving him a blow job under a table in the Nightclub Room was one thing. He didn’t know if she was ready to have sex in public. Later, perhaps. On the RACK side, there would be fewer eyes, dimmer lights, and settings made for expressing forbidden desires. One of the allures of the dark side was indulging in nameless, clandestine encounters with partners willing to share your kink.
For now, they watched the play taking place all around them. His kitten shifted in his lap, clearly aroused. Her nipples were hard. Her sex was sopping wet. He pinched her tit, and she mewled, needing more.
Sebastian tugged on her leash, forcing her chin up enough to meet her eyes. “Settle, pet. Otherwise, my cock is going to be in your ass instead of that plug.”
“I’m trying, Master,” she whispered. “But it’s so hard.”
Like him. His erection strained against the front of his leather pants, testing the zipper.
He didn’t make it any easier on her. He stroked her skin, played with her breasts, and tweaked her tail, making her breath hitch and her sex that much wetter. He wanted her horny. Wanted her to be so desperate that by the time they got to the RACK side of the resort, she’d be open to just about anything.
He’d ask Don Diego to watch for them, just in case he could talk her into a threesome.
Pet play was in full swing when they left to get ready for the second part of their evening. Ashley emerged from wardrobe totally transformed. The kitten was gone. In her place was a 1930s silver screen siren, from the waves shaped in her side-parted platinum hair to the silk lingerie that revealed almost as much as it covered. Around her neck, she wore the piece that he had given her, its lock nestled in the tempting hollow of her throat.
Sebastian was dressed in his favorite outfit—a black silk poet’s shirt, black pants tucked into black riding boots, and a lightweight cape that reached to mid-calf. The soft leather bag hanging from his belt contained his muted cell phone and the teeth that he would use—for nibbling, not for piercing, but she didn’t know that, not yet.
Sir Piers had arranged special conveyances tonight. Instead of a chauffeur and limo to drive them, they were treated to a horse-drawn carriage ride. The temperature had dropped enough, Sebastian tucked a blanket around Ashley’s legs and shared his cape to keep her warm on their ride.
She nestled her body against his and sighed in contentment. The night was clear enough to count the constellations and marvel at the Milky Way, spanning the sky like a bridge of stars. “It’s beautiful.” She sighed again, but this time, she sounded sad. “One of the things I’ll miss about my house, it’s remote enough to see the stars. There’s so much light pollution where I was living before. Hopefully, I can find another place away from the city.”
He could feel the moment her anxiety kicked in again. She was worried about her house. Worried about her future. He’d promised to tell her the truth, but the only things he could offer were platitudes. He wished he could tell her that everything would work out, that she’d get the part, keep her house, win an Oscar, and be free of her back pain, but he’d be lying. No one knew what the future held.
“I’m here,” he told her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You have my number. If you ever need me for anything—and I mean anything, I want you to call me. I don’t care why. I don’t care how big or how insignificant you think something is, call me. Talk to me. Hopefully, we can figure things out.”
She tightened the arm that she’d wrapped around his chest and sighed. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
She made no commitment, but then she hadn’t said no, either. Instead, she tucked his offer away, likely hoping that she would never need it.
The carriage drew up to the RACK entrance, looking very much like it belonged. Sebastian unfastened his cape, put it on Ashley, and helped her down from the carriage. Scooping her into his arms, he carried her through the front door before setting her on her slippered feet.
He unhooked the clasp and reclaimed his outerwear. “Let me know if you get cold. Generally, it’s warm enough to keep the submissives naked, but everyone’s metabolism is different, and nerves can do a number on you. Come, dragă. The scene starts soon.”
He led her through the maze of corridors to where the vampires played. An oversized bed was the central feature. Carved of heavy wood, it looked like it was plucked from the set of a Bela Lugosi movie. The walls were dark; the lighting, moody.
“Would you like to try it?” he asked. “Lie on the bed and see what awaits you in the night?”
“Yes, Master Sorin,” she answered, aroused by the thought.
“Take off your robe and lie on the bed.”
She undid the sash, parted the front, and shrugged her shoulders. The thin silk slid down her arms, revealing hardened nipples that peaked the front of her gown. She glided across the floor like a sleepwalker, mesmerized by the setting, immersing herself in the role like the consummate actress she was.
He made himself ready for her, taking his place by the leaded glass window, backlit by a full moon which shone every day of the year. Normally, he’d begin on the balcony beyo
nd it, limned by artificial moonlight, his face cast in shadows. But Ashley knew he was here. Her body thrummed with anticipation. He could almost hear her thoughts. What would he do? How far would they go?
She sat on the edge of the mattress, toed off her slippers, and lay on the bed, closing her eyes and pretending to sleep. Sebastian stalked across the floor. His long cape hid just how gracefully a man his size could move. He undid the clasp as he went, allowing it to fall just before he reached her side.
He loomed above her, filled with lust for this woman who had inspired fantasies for millions but who had chosen to share her body and mind with him. Reaching, he touched her, stroking the soft curve of her cheek, tracing the elegant line of her neck, placing his fingers on a point that told him just how affected she was.
She pressed her legs together, a subtle shift that did nothing to hide the scent of her arousal. He breathed it in, inhaling deeply and absorbing what he could before it demanded to be let go. Too soon, he would have to do the same to her, but for now, for tonight, she was his.
Chapter Thirteen
Sebastian eased onto the bed to lie beside her. Pressing his full length against her, he placed a hand over her throat and kissed her neck, softly at first, open-mouth kisses with lips and teeth and tongue. Hunger gnawed at him, until he was caught in the maws of a living beast.
The only way to be free of it was to become one, too.
His kisses grew savage, demanding a response. Ashley moaned, unable to feign sleep any longer.
“Please,” she begged him. “Oh, please….”
“Let me in,” he said, shoving a knee between her legs and thrusting his thigh against her groin. She ground herself on him, wetting her gown with her juices.
“Say yes,” he cajoled. Vampire lore dovetailed BDSM in that respect. He had to have permission to go on.
He pinched her nipple and twisted it at the same time that he bit her neck, not enough to draw blood but hard enough for her to feel his custom-made fangs.
“Do it,” she whimpered, tipping her head and baring her neck for him. “Do it.”
He bit down more and sucked her in, hard enough to mark her. Desperation drove him to claim her. Moving over her, he held himself suspended while he fumbled with his pants, freed himself, shoved up her gown, and thrust inside. Her orgasm was instantaneous. Her vaginal walls clenched and spasmed around him, milking his length. He took her like an animal, a savage rut that made her cry and beg and moan from the sheer force of it.
“It’s too much!” she gasped, but she didn’t use either of her safewords.
He scraped her throat with his fangs and bit her neck again, knowing better than to pierce her skin with porcelain teeth. He left that to the sterile medical lancet that he pressed under her jaw. Just a quick, short stab that made her breath catch and her blood well.
He devoured her. Consumed her. Trapped her beneath him and set her free, riding high on the orgasm that ripped through her the moment he started to feed. Just a few drops—he was careful that way—but he felt the pull of her life force joining with his in an act more intimate than anything he’d ever experienced. She yielded everything to him. Everything. And when he shuddered to a climax, he buried himself deep enough to touch her soul and flooded her with his life force in turn.
“Jesus,” he breathed, lungs heaving from his exertions. “Was that as good for you as it was for me?”
She opened her eyes and lifted a finger to touch his elongated incisors, not bothering to hide her fascination with them. Her lips curved in an enigmatic smile. “I believe it was. If yours was incredible. Earth-shattering. Mind-blowing. Un-fucking-believable.”
“Potty mouth.” He bit down on her finger, releasing it when she yelped. “You’ll pay for that last one.”
“Promise?” she rasped, her voice husky with desire.
“Later,” he growled. “Unless you want more of an audience than we’ve already drawn.”
Her eyes snapped fully open.
“Fuck!” She pressed against his chest, her blue eyes panicked.
He caught her chin and made her meet his gaze.
“Dragă! Look at me! See me. Only me. Nothing else. No one else. What matters most is the two of us. Feel it. Believe it. Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her anxiety coming under control. Her gaze flicked to the side, where a handful of people stood in silence, watching them.
He pinched her tit and made her gasp. “What did I tell you? Look at me, dragă. They are nothing to us. Nothing. Now, I need to get you cleaned. I need to treat where I pierced you. We will go to my private room for this. When we are done, we can come back here, or we can stay. For now, we must move and let this space be readied for others.”
Sebastian had softened enough to slip easily from her body. Rolling to one side, he pushed himself to a sitting position, swung his legs, and slid to the floor. He fastened his pants, keeping his eyes on his submissive. She was beautiful, lying there with his seed leaking from her slit. Looking around, he stripped the case from an unused pillow and tucked it between her legs to minimize the mess.
“Are you ready to stand?”
“Yes, Master Sorin. I just hope I can walk. You got pretty wild.”
He had. He’d tested his control but had never lost it like that. Something about Ashley Slade brought out the Alpha wolf in him, and he wasn’t sure that he liked it.
She seemed to, though. She practically purred while he washed her, cleaning her juices and his semen from her skin before tending the small puncture wound on her neck.
“I should have sterilized the skin first,” he murmured. He knew better, but he had been a man consumed at that point. With his mouth fastened on her neck and her body writhing beneath him, he hadn’t wanted to break away long enough to do it.
“It will be fine,” she said. “Really. I was clumsy as a kid. I got scrapes and cuts all the time. Even when I helped out in the garage, it was really rare for one to get infected. I’m either treating them right, or I’ve developed resistance.”
He felt her eyes on him while he worked. She bit her lip and waited until he’d finished tending her wound to speak.
“The blood thing…do you do that often? Is that something that you need?”
Straightening, he met her gaze and shook his head. “No. I wear the teeth to add to the illusion and provide extra stimulation, but they’re not meant for blood play. That’s done with proper preparation, using medical lancets or surgical scalpels to make small incisions. I’ve never gone farther…never intentionally drawn blood and tasted it until tonight. You were my first.”
He had never done this before. Not with anyone.
While Ashley reveled in the knowledge that she had been his first, the truth was, she wanted to be his last. This man had gotten under her skin in every sense of the word. He was like a fever in her blood with no hope for a cure. She should have guarded herself…should have guarded her heart, but it was too late now. For all the mess that she’d be returning to in California, letting go of her house was going to hurt far less than letting go of Sebastian Moldovan.
Tomorrow, they would go their separate ways. She’d probably never see him again. The thought made her achingly bereft.
He eyed her curiously, trying to read her. Rather than call on her acting skills and hide her feelings from him, she let him look.
Let him see.
Breaking eye contact, he caught a lock of her hair and wrapped it around his finger. “What would you like to do, dragă? Do you want to observe the scenes? I’m certain that there are several going on right now.”
“I’d rather stay here,” she said, touching his hair-dusted forearm. “If you don’t mind.”
He smiled softly. “I do not mind. This weekend is yours, dragă. Shared with you, or shared with others, it’s all good. But I warn you, I have toys that I have not yet used with you. If we stay, I cannot guarantee how much sleep you will get.”
“I can sleep on the plane,
” she told him, taking heart in the look that passed over his face like a cloud crosses the sun. He was no more looking forward to parting ways than she was. “Do with me what you will.”
He fisted her hair and kissed her fiercely, letting her feel his frustration at their situation. “I want to tie you to my bed,” he growled, biting her ear and licking the side of her face. “I want to blindfold you. Play with you. Bring you up and keep you on the edge so long, when I finally thrust inside that perfect pussy of yours, you’ll come all over my cock.”
Oh, God.
She trembled at his touch, his words, the passion she felt simmering beneath the surface, ready to ignite. She wanted him unleashed, unbridled, riding her raw like he’d done before, when he’d taken her neck and tasted her blood. She’d pay for it, probably dearly, if the twinges in her back were any indication, but right now, she didn’t care. She wanted him.
Chapter Fourteen
“Please,” she whispered, welcoming what was to come, yet already regretting it, when it would only make it that much harder to let him go. She focused on creating memories instead, like a movie that she could play back in the dark of night in her lonely bed, remembering the feel of him, the smell of him, the crook of his smile and the command of his eyes.
She loved the feeling of being bound to his bed, allowing herself to feel helpless, even though she had the power to stop things at any time. She almost balked at the blindfold but she agreed to it, knowing that it would sharpen her senses. With her eyes banded in black silk, she lay bound, spread-eagled on the bed, while he toyed with a feather, teased her with ice, tormented her with a Wartenberg wheel and the vampire gloves that he’d mentioned. He had her so sensitized, she thought, if he touched her core, she wouldn’t be able to hold back.
