Liminality: Gay Shifter Vampire Romance (Kingdom of Night Book 2)

by L. C. Davis

  I gave the pen back to Victor and hoped desperately that this particular contract wouldn't find its way into the stack on Ulric's desk.

  “Good. Now that the formalities are out of the way,” he said, moving to stand in front of me. His hand swept across my cheek, but the brief moment of tenderness ended abruptly when he grabbed my shirt and ripped it open. The pieces fell around my feet as he set to work on undoing my jeans.

  Victor was so restrained that sometimes it was easy to forget he was just as strong as the others. I put every effort into standing perfectly still as he disrobed me and left me standing in the middle of his room on the cold metal floor, completely naked.

  As he stood back to survey his work, he loosened the tie around his neck. My own heart beat faster as his neck was exposed. He peeled the tie off slowly just to torture me. I wanted to beg him not to cover my eyes with it. Not a night had gone by since his return that I hadn't felt him inside of me, but I thirsted for the sight of him like it was the first I'd seen him in years.

  Of course, I knew better by now than to even beg without permission during a session.

  He walked around me slowly and, to my immense relief, he started tying the long strip of silk around my wrists, binding them behind my back with expert precision.

  “I've got free reign now, pup. Does that make you nervous?” he asked, pulling a strand of my hair through his fingertips as he circled me.

  “No, Sir.”

  He stopped and fell silent, as if he was listening for something. Could he hear my pulse?

  “You're telling the truth.” He sounded surprised.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I know better than to lie to you in here, Master.”

  That answer seemed to please him. “That's good, but I was asking why you aren't afraid knowing that I have absolute control over you now?”

  I paused to consider it. “You've always had control, Master. If you wanted to hurt me, a contract wouldn't stop you.”

  “A fair point,” he said, walking again. “That means you trust me, then.”

  “With my life, Sir.”

  He stopped again, this time behind me. I heard him rifling through one of his drawers but I couldn't see anything and I didn't dare turn around.

  “That's good,” he murmured next to my ear, his breath cool on my neck. “Because tonight I'm going to have no choice but to push that trust to its boundaries.”

  A shiver ran its way down my spine, but months of practice helped me maintain my posture. Something soft brushed against my thigh and it felt like thin strips of fabric.

  No, leather.

  When I realized what it was, my heart lurched. I had seen Brendan use the cat o' nine tails a few times in session and even the most stalwart recipient of the punishment was always begging for mercy after a few good strokes. I was hardier now that panic didn't come as easily, but I couldn't help but feel uneasy.

  “On your knees.”

  I sank to the floor obediently, which was easier said than done with my hands bound behind my back. Victor knelt beside me and pushed down on my shoulders until my forehead touched the cold floor. It was a position he reserved for the most severe punishments, which until then had consisted of bare-handed spanking and plugs. Months ago, letting him put me over his lap had seemed like the ultimate form of submission.

  He was determined to push me so far out of my comfort zone that I couldn't even see it.

  “You know why you're being punished, don't you, pup?”

  The strips swept against my backside this time with a featherlight touch. “Yes, Sir. Because I disobeyed you, Sir.”

  “That's right.”

  The whip made contact deliberately this time and I jolted. It startled more than it hurt, but the contact was still jarring.

  “You put yourself in danger,” he continued, punctuating his lecture with a much sharper stroke.

  I gasped and struggled not to lift my head. “Yes, Sir.”

  “You seem to have gotten it into your head that you don't need protection.” The third strike was twice as hard as the last. A cry escaped my lips and I picked my head up off the floor out of instinct. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and immediately pressed it down. He leaned in, whispering, “How about now? Do you feel quite as tough now, pup?”

  “N-no, Sir.”

  The next time the whip struck my upper back and muffled a cry of pain. My breaths were coming in ragged and it was hard to stay focused no matter how intently I looked at the floor. For the first time since I had become a vampire, I thought of Jeff. Not just a passing thought here or there, but the kind of lingering memory that transposed itself over everything and made it impossible to stay fully in the present.

  “What is it?” Victor asked earnestly, pulling me back. “What's going through your mind right now?”

  “Nothing, Sir,” I seethed.

  The whip landed on my exposed flank again, stinging so badly that I writhed against the restraints and our safe word flashed in my mind.

  “Don't lie to me.” His growl was furious but restrained.

  Tears welled in my eyes and I could barely see through them. Squirming was the next best thing to being able to rub my burning flesh. “Jeff,” I choked out.

  His silence lasted for so long that it was almost as torturous as the flogging. “Tell me what it is that reminds you of him. The pain?”

  “No,” I said through gritted teeth. It occurred to me that I had forgotten to address him properly, but he didn't strike me again.

  “What is it, then?”

  “The humiliation,” I said, my face burning with a confusing combination of emotions that only seemed to work their way out in session with Victor.

  “How did he humiliate you? Did he tie you up?”

  I clenched my jaw. He had been inside my mind a hundred times if once. He knew what Jeff and his father had done to me and he'd been the one helping me pick up the pieces of the shambles they left. I wanted to ask how any of this was relevant to placing a block in my mind, but I had signed my own fate with that contract. Challenging him was just inviting more punishment. “Sometimes. Sometimes he would strip me down and put me on display so his friends could feed from me and do anything else they wanted.”

  More silence. Something hit the floor and a moment later Victor was helping me to my feet. Rather than let me stand on my own, he lifted me into his arms and carried me over to the table in the middle of the room. That table had been the setting of some of the most painful and pleasurable experiences of my life and I could only guess which kind would be next.

  “We're going to try something else,” he said, forcing me onto my stomach. Soon his hands were roaming my back, rubbing some kind of oil into the skin he had been tormenting moments before. The oil stung when it made contact, but soon it started to tingle, soothing my abused flesh until the stinging subsided.

  He kept going long after the pain was gone and his strong hands knew all the right spots to probe and caress. Soon it was impossible to hold tension anywhere except maybe the one part of me I was trying to forget, considering it was pressed against a cold metal table.

  “Roll over,” he said, doing the work for me. Once I was on my back, he began fastening my writs with the restraints on either side of the table. My pulse quickened as he slid out the stirrups. As gentle as Victor was in our everyday lives, he seemed to delight in finding new ways to make me suffer in his dungeon. Whenever the stirrups came out, I knew I was in for a special kind of torture.

  The cat o' nine tails was looking better by the moment.

  “No squirming.” His voice had a harsh edge to it as he focused on securing my foot inside the metal plate. He tested the restraints and made a few adjustments before he was satisfied.

  Out came the tie again. This time he moved to cover my eyes with it, but a knock at the door interrupted him. The sharp sound jolted me out of the surreality of the session and Victor bristled, cold fury in his eyes as
he strode over to the door.

  When a door in the dungeon was closed, you didn't disturb the occupants unless it was the end of the world itself—especially not when that door was Victor's. I couldn't see the door as Victor pulled it open, and I could only hope that whoever was on the other side couldn't see me in my present predicament.

  “What?” Victor snarled, more wolf than man.

  “Sorry, they said no one was—oh,” Brendan's voice grew stilted. So much for him not being able to see me. “I uh, thought the room was empty, sorry.”

  “Just a minute,” said Victor.

  Brendan's sneakers squeaked on the floor. “Hey!”

  “There's something I've been meaning to address with you.” The door slammed shut. “Might as well take care of you both at the same time.”

  “It was just an accident,” Brendan protested. Victor was leading him by the arm when they came into view. I was too focused on my own humiliation to acknowledge the way Brendan cowered away from Victor even though he had a few good inches on him in stature and quite a bit more muscle.

  The restraints left little room to squirm, but I couldn't help it. Being in such a vulnerable position was bad enough around Victor, whom I trusted with my life, never mind Brendan.

  “That's not what I'm talking about,” said Victor, releasing him.

  A shadow fell over Brendan's face, replacing the confusion, and he hung his head in shame. “Oh. You're going to punish me for what happened to Mr. Hall.” His shoulders dropped and he seemed to accept the realization without protest.

  “No,” Victor said, his tone softening as he placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. “If I didn't have to keep up appearances as alpha I'd give you a damn medal for that.”

  Brendan looked up sharply. “You're going to be alpha?”

  “It's not official yet, but Ulric has chosen,” he said, glancing at me. “This is about what happened between you two while I was gone.”

  “But I didn't --” Brendan looked between us frantically. “It wasn't like that. I told you, he just fed from me.”

  “He didn't have a choice, Victor,” I said earnestly.

  “You will speak when you're spoken to,” Victor snarled with malice I'd never heard from him before. At least the shock made me forget about my humiliation for the moment.

  “I know what you did was necessary,” he said, turning back to Brendan, “but necessity doesn't change the fact that you touched my submissive. I can't let that go unpunished, especially not now.”

  It took everything I had not to jump to Brendan's defense, but we were still in session, interruption or not. Saying anything would only make it worse for the both of us.

  To my surprise, even Brendan hung his head in submission. “Yes, Sir.”

  Victor brushed his neck with a surprisingly gentle touch and Brendan shivered. “That's a good boy. Maybe you can teach my submissive that accepting a punishment is easier than fighting it.”

  My face grew hot and Brendan's eyes met mine for an instant before his gaze traveled down my exposed form. If I didn't know better, I'd think there was a hint of lust in his eyes.

  The sharp sound of flesh striking flesh rang in my ears before my brain could process the sight of Victor hitting Brendan across the face. Brendan staggered but quickly regained his posture, hands folded behind his back and clenched into fists. It was hard to tell if it was a submissive posture or just the only way he could keep himself from fighting back.

  “Did I say you could look at him?” Victor growled.

  “No, Sir.”

  “On your knees.”

  To my amazement, Brendan dropped immediately. I watched in a mixture of horror and arousal as Victor unzipped the tight leather jeans that looked almost as good on him as nothing did. He was already mostly erect as he exposed himself and he reached out, grabbing a fistful of Brendan's hair. “You're an expert at sucking up to the alpha, so this shouldn't be a problem. Let's see how sorry you really are.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Brendan said, his voice rough with humiliation. His gaze flickered over to me briefly enough to avoid Victor's notice before he took his would-be alpha into his mouth.

  I wanted to look away. Really, I did, but the sight of the massive wolf worshiping my master on his knees was too captivating to resist. Victor's grip on Brendan's hair loosened and turned into almost affectionate caressing as the other wolf took him deeper.

  To my surprise, no remonstrance was given when Brendan's hands rested on Victor's hips, probably to keep him from thrusting. Even Brendan, who was obviously no novice at the art of sucking another man off, was having a hard time with Victor's length, but a firm hand nested against the back of his head kept him in place.

  “Good boy,” Victor purred, stroking him again. I could tell he was getting close. His head always fell back and his hips bucked a certain way. Before long, he thrust into Brendan and tightened his grip on the younger wolf's hair. “Swallow.” The order came through gritted teeth and held no tolerance for disobedience.

  Brendan obeyed, wiping his mouth when Victor finally pulled out. My mate refastened his jeans, gazing in lazy appreciation of his subordinate as he basked in the afterglow of pleasure and domination. It was hard to think of Brendan as a submissive, even when he was on his knees.

  “I had almost forgotten how good you are with that tongue.”

  Brendan avoided looking at either of us, but I could see that his face was bright red. If the aim of Victor's punishment had been to humiliate, which I was learning was a skill he was quite adept at, it had been successful. “Yes, alpha.”

  A look of satisfaction flickered in Victor's eyes, but he replaced it quickly with a mask of severity. “Not yet. For tonight, in this place, you can just call me Sir. Now stand up.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Brendan was on his feet in an instant and once again I was the most vulnerable one in the room. He didn't dare look at me.

  “Now that you've learned your lesson, you're going to help me deliver one to my submissive.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  My breath caught as I realized Victor was going to incorporate Brendan into whatever he had planned for me. Any thought of hunters or the reason we'd come into the dungeon in the first place was the furthest thing from my mind. Maybe that was the purpose of all the experimentation.

  “It looks like our little demonstration already did part of the work,” Victor mused, stroking my partially-erect shaft. My face grew even hotter and I tried in vain to struggle away from him. He leaned in, whispering, “Did you like watching him suck me off, pup?”

  “Yes,” I squeaked. I didn't dare lie to him again.

  “I see.” He ran a single finger down the length of my dick, toying with the slit on the tip to make me even harder. “I'll have to keep that in mind. Let's see if you like being the center of attention just as much.”

  I started to panic again, glancing at Brendan. Before I could register his response, Victor turned my head to face him. “I'm the master in here, pup. No one else can help you. Brendan, third drawer in my cabinet.”

  Brendan crossed the room as Victor double-checked my restraints.

  “The Van Buren, Sir?”

  “No, the short ones with the caps. Get me a two-millimeter.”

  “Yes, Sir.” A moment later, Brendan reappeared with a small black box and a pair of blue gloves that Victor slipped on. He still wasn't looking at me, but I could tell he wanted to say something about whatever was in that box.

  “To answer your question, no, he hasn't done this before,” said Victor. “That's why you'll be useful. You can keep him calm. I have a feeling he's not going to like this very much at first.”

  Keep me calm?

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Victor opened the box and frowned as he studied its contents. “Two or three?”

  “Whichever you think is best, Sir.”

  Victor gave him a look. “I'm asking your opinion dom-to-dom. Which one would you use?”

  Brendan thought ab
out it for a moment. “To push him to the edge? I think he can handle a three, but I'd never go above a four for a first-timer.”

  Thanks a lot, Brendan. I had no idea what was in that box, but a three had to be worse than a two.

  Victor stood, pulling a long, thin metal rod out of the box. It had a flat bottom like the head of a nail. My stomach lurched as he moved forward with it. Knives were bad enough, but needles?

  No, this thing looked more like a skewer.

  After thoroughly applying lube to the entire rod, he wrapped his hand around my shaft and balanced the narrow yet dulled tip of it against the tip of my dick. When the point slid into my shaft I gasped, but it was more due to the cold metal than any actual pain. My eyes searched Victor's, desperate for an explanation but not desperate enough to break his rule again by asking.

  “Just trust me, pup. Relax.”

  It was easier said than done once I realized that he was planning on fitting that thing inside of me. Hopefully not all of it.

  “Comfort him,” Victor ordered without looking up from his task. The rod slid deeper and I let out a strangled cry as I watched in horror as it disappear under Victor's skilled hand.

  Brendan started stroking my hair with a surprisingly gentle touch. “It's okay,” he said affectionately. “Your master knows what he's doing.”

  My humiliation over the fact that Brendan was present for such a confusing, vulnerable moment was outweighed only by my relief that he was there to comfort me. He was just the kind of person who made you believe it when he said everything was going to be okay, even if you were standing in the eye of a hurricane.

  The rod slipped even deeper and I cried out involuntarily. Brendan's hand rested on my chest, rough and warm like Sebastian's. “Shh,” he said soothingly into my ear, placing a soft kiss on my neck. It was a gesture I imagine could have gotten him into trouble, but it served its purpose of calming me.

  I whimpered as the cold rod filled my shaft, stretching me beyond what I thought possible. It didn't feel half as narrow as it had looked before I knew what its purpose was, but it wasn't painful. Not really. It burned a little, but when Victor slid it past a certain point, a strangely familiar tension overtook the mild pain.