by Aubrey Ross
Heat and humiliation twisted through Caresse, the unwanted ache even more upsetting than the shame. It had been decades since she’d been objectified. She thought she’d left these cravings far behind. Farren caught one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger then twisted until she cried out. Desmond jerked against his captors, his features contorted with rage. Her nipple tingled and burned. Reality blended with memory, melding the harsh stimulation into something insidious and arousing.
Desmond made a strangled sound as the guards reacted to his renewed aggression. One nudged him with the gun while the other tightened his fingers. Their actions weren’t enough to completely distract Caresse from Farren. Already she could feel his erection pressing into her back.
“Your skin is so fair,” Farren murmured as he toyed with her nipples, “yet it flushes so deeply. You’ll be a joy to flog. I can just imagine ribbons of red weaving their way across all this soft ivory skin.”
An image formed within her mind, a taunting memory she continually struggled to suppress. She was not that person anymore. She was free from those dark desires, those mindless pleasures. Even so, the image came, vivid and enticing. She stood chained between two thick wooden posts, naked and aching, desperate for release. Her body was crisscrossed with lash marks and three young hosts scraped her tender flesh with their distended fangs. One raked the length of her neck, another created a clear trail from one nipple to the other. And Desmond knelt before her, sliding his mouth up her inner thigh.
No! She would not think about those years, could not afford to confuse the past with the present. She’d been a blood-slave then. She’d had no choice but to surrender to anything anyone wanted from her. This was different. She was temporarily using her sexuality for a much greater gain. She would not allow herself to be drawn back into that passive mindset where nothing existed but physical sensation.
Farren eased her away then turned her to face him, but his gaze was on Desmond. “We are feeling generous tonight, so we will let you choose. Would you rather watch your mate suck this body’s cock or shall we fuck her juicy cunt?”
An animalistic cry tore from Desmond and he went wild, oblivious to the guard’s hold on his throat or the other guard’s pistol pressed against his ribs. The guard holding Desmond’s throat moved behind him and wrapped his other arm around Desmond’s torso, trapping his arms against his sides. Why didn’t Desmond access his powers? Even without his Strigo abilities, he could throw off these two with one assertive thought. Yet he stood there, allowing himself to be restrained, allowing her to be humiliated.
Something was wrong. A chill dropped down her spine and lodged deep in her belly. This wasn’t the Desmond she knew and loved. The Brethren had done something to him, weakened him or… Dear gods, had they given him the paralytic? She couldn’t explain the change. All she knew was it spelled disaster for her.
Farren shrugged off his coat and tossed it over a nearby chair as the guards worked together to quiet their captive. Though Desmond still struggled and moved his head from side to side, his enraged cries turned to helpless moans.
Caresse couldn’t look at him and didn’t dare access their private link. This had to work. There was no alternative. There was so little in life Desmond could call his, it had made him ruthlessly possessive. His raging emotions would release his Strigo strength. He would fight for her, kill without hesitation to protect the woman he loved.
Unless whatever the Brethren had done to him affected his symbionts too.
“Last chance,” Farren warned. “If you don’t choose, we will use her in any way we please.”
“I will kill you slowly for this.” He sounded broken, hopeless. No, he just needed more time.
Farren grasped her upper arms and turned her sideways. He turned sideways as well, offering Desmond the best view. “On your knees, whore. I want to explore that soft red mouth.”
This would be easier for Desmond to bear as long as he thought she was a mindless puppet. But she didn’t want Desmond to bear it. She needed him infuriated and crazed with his need to protect her. So it served her purpose better if she struggled, if she fought Farren every step of the way.
Still, she couldn’t bring herself to take the final step, to abolish the illusion entirely. She was being a coward. Hiding within a misconception that kept her partially removed from the shame.
“We’re waiting,” Farren snapped.
Not seeing any other choice, she folded her skirt and placed it in front of Farren. Then she knelt on the slight cushion and slowly parted her lips. This meant nothing, less than nothing. She was playing a part, working toward freedom for her and Desmond. Nothing else mattered.
Farren quickly uncovered his cock and angled it toward her face. “Lock your hands behind your head. We want nothing to distract us from the feel of your mouth.”
She closed her eyes as he pushed between her lips, slowly filling her mouth with hot, hard flesh. It was a serious mistake. In an instant she was a blood-slave again, powerless, at the mercy of whoever wanted her. If she failed to satisfy anyone who approached her, they were allowed to bleed her dry. She was a lowly Levari slave and they were members of the esteemed Felean Marton, the bravest, most highly trained warriors in all the royal provinces. It was an honor to serve them, a privilege to welcome their cocks and their fangs. The only reason for her existence was to pleasure any warrior who desired her body and feed those who also hosted the Levari strain.
It was how she’d met Desmond. He’d been fascinated with her, visited her regularly until the thought of other men touching her became abhorrent to him.
Grabbing the back of her hair, Farren gave it a warning yank. “Stay with us, bitch.”
Hate bubbled up within her, strengthening her resolve. She’d fought the Brethren with everything she had and all she’d been able to do was elude them. But her shields couldn’t hold forever. Eventually the Brethren would find a way in and take control of her mind. She needed Desmond, needed him now!
Farren tilted her head farther back, giving him a better angle for his long, slow strokes. “That’s right. Swallow us down. Take it all.”
The unrelenting command in Farren’s voice triggered reactions honed through years of slavery. Her body responded to familiar stimulation, preparing to be used. She was conditioned to surrender, accept, accommodate while feeling nothing but physical release. There was no right or wrong, no past or future, just this moment and her need to give and receive pleasure—if her master allowed her to come. Her pussy softened and melted. Her nipples beaded and her tongue curled around the head of Farren’s cock, coaxing the salty-sharp drops that signaled his escalating hunger.
“Harder,” Farren urged. “Suck us deep and slow.”
She tightened her lips and sucked as if she meant to siphon off his soul. He groaned and arched, driving his cock deep into her throat. Pleasure rushed through her body in a tingling wave and she shivered. There was power in submission. There was peace. She didn’t fight her body’s reaction. She knew this routine too well. Desire was unavoidable for a host. Sex escalated bloodlust and blood made a host crave sex. This was natural, unavoidable.
Grabbing her head with both hands, Farren thrust to the back of her mouth and came down her throat. His cock jerked against her tongue and her pussy clenched in on itself, desperate for a similar pleasure. He pulled out slowly, trailing his taste across her tongue and then smearing the excess liquid over her lips.
“Nicely done.” He tucked his cock away and refastened his pants then reached down and pinched her nipples. “Now it’s your turn.”
“Enough,” Desmond whispered. “Please. She doesn’t deserve this.”
She didn’t look at Desmond. Even so, she could feel his hot gaze boring into her.
Caresse? Can you hear me?
She didn’t respond. It was better if he thought she was unaware. Better, yet less effective. Watching another man possess her body was obviously not enough to snap his control. Was it time to take t
he next step? Could she be that cruel?
Did she have any other choice?
“On your back,” Farren ordered. “Thighs wide. Let your mate see what an eager slut you really are.”
Struggling with indecision, she pressed the back of her hand to her lips. They felt swollen and sensitive from the persistent slide of Farren’s cock. Still, she loved Desmond so deeply she’d willingly use her body to secure their freedom. That’s all this was. Why should the strategy shame either of them?
Besides, it was much too late to consider a different course. This was nothing she hadn’t done before. Lying down on her back, she parted her thighs and raised her arms overhead. Her body hummed with anticipation, ready to be filled, needing the fullness of an eager cock.
Farren knelt between her legs and gently stroked her damp folds. “Such a responsive pussy. Did you share our pleasure while you swallowed our come or are you still aching?”
Desmond responded with a guttural curse as he jerked within the guards’ strong arms.
Hope surged through Caresse as Desmond continued to struggle. Yes! Fight, my love. Snap out of it and claim what’s yours. She kept her gaze fixed on the ceiling but no longer tried to shield her thoughts. It was all she had left. Hopefully, knowing she was aware would be enough to snap Desmond out of his stupor.
Farren parted her folds with one hand and lightly pinched her clit with the other. She squirmed but was still reluctant to object. “Would you like to be fucked, pretty slut? Perhaps we’ll invite the guards to join us. Have you ever been taken by more than one man?” Farren squeezed hard enough to make her cry out and buck against his hurtful fingers.
Emotions rushed into her mind—fury, disappointment and shame. Unable to fight the impulse any longer, she looked at Desmond and a harsh sob tore from her throat. Fury contorted his features but the intensity in his bloodshot eyes was gold, which meant Levari, not Strigo, energy.
Let go, Caresse, he pleaded. Retreat so they can’t hurt you.
The temptation to do just that tugged at her being with insistent determination. This was not how she’d pictured the scene. But she couldn’t let this be in vain. She needed her mate, her champion. And there was only one way to release him. They won’t let me retreat. They want me to feel everything. She infused the thought with fear and desperation then she turned her face away.
Desmond screamed and the sounds of his struggle intensified. She heard several muffled curses and the distinct smack of flesh hitting flesh.
Farren shoved two fingers into her core and slowly pumped his hand. “What do you imagine when Desmond’s inside you? We suspect that it’s a lot more interesting than just one man.” He sped the movement of his hand as he turned her face back around and locked gazes with her. “You’re getting wetter just thinking about all the things we could make you do. This might be punishment for him, but you’re about to come all over our fingers.”
“Stop it!” she cried, horrified by the truth ringing through his words. She tried to close her thighs and shove him away, but he was too fast and strong. In an instant he moved to her side and clasped both her wrists in one hand. All the while his fingers thrust into her moist passage, maintaining the simmering heat in her pussy. It felt so good and yet it was so wrong!
“Your mind might resist your true calling, but your body understands.” He leaned down and sucked her lower lip into his mouth. She jerked away so suddenly his fang nicked her lip. Blood trailed across her chin and along her jaw. “You’re the perfect sex slave. You crave cock, anyone’s cock. You can’t help yourself. You need it as much as you need blood.”
She shook her head, the scent of blood making her fangs pulse and grow. He was right and she hated him for it. Sexual hunger burned away every thought but physical fulfillment. Her eyes stung as she rocked her hips, forcing his fingers deeper. Her inner muscles rippled and heat gathered between her thighs. The fast shuttle of his fingers and the slap of his knuckles against her swollen folds had her teetering on the brink of orgasm.
“Not yet.” Farren pulled his fingers out and she yelled, frantically arching as she tried to recapture his cream-covered hand. Leaving her sprawled on the floor, Farren pushed to his feet and ambled over to Desmond. “See how wet she is.” He held his fingers in front of Desmond’s face and Desmond growled. Cries mixed with his curses and green sparks burst within his eyes.
Panting and stunned, Caresse sat up, barely able to breathe. Green meant Strigo energy.
Farren started to turn away then paused, his gaze fixed on Desmond’s face. Had he seen the green flashes too? Did he understand the significance? “She’s ready for a cock and she doesn’t care who the cock is attached to. Has she always been such a whore?”
Before Caresse could respond to the slight, Farren motioned one of the guards forward. “Roman, would you like to taste our new pet? I know how you like eating pussy.”
Dread flowed through her, cold and cloying, all but extinguishing her desire. She glanced at Desmond but his eyes were closed and his mind was carefully shielded.
“You’ve made your point.” Desmond ground out the words between clenched teeth as he slowly opened his eyes. There was no hint of green now. Even the golden glow had receded. “I will not hunt the Vladya bitch unless you stop this now.”
“You’re in no position to make ultimatums.” Farren stepped in front of Desmond, blocking him from view. “We can and will do whatever we want with our new pet. That is the point of this demonstration. There is no ‘me’ or ‘I’ within the Levari Brethren. We share everything equally.”
“Then I have no reason to hunt,” Desmond snapped and sparks of anger erupted in Caresse’s mind. Desmond wasn’t nearly as calm as he wanted Farren to believe. “Ensuring her safety was my motivation for cooperating. If you could find Eloise without me, you wouldn’t have bothered with this ‘demonstration’. You need me and I need Caresse.”
Farren clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on the balls of his feet as silence overtook the room. They were at an impasse, a stalemate. Someone would have to back down and she’d never known Desmond to surrender.
“You have three nights to find Eloise or I’ll continue your mate’s training.” Farren’s smug tone reinforced her determination to rip out his throat. “I’ll start in her mouth, then I’ll fuck her pussy and finally I’ll end in her ass.”
A painful ache erupted deep inside her body as she imagined each depraved act. She drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees then stubbornly suppressed each tantalizing image. For years she had fought to overcome these longings and in one fell swoop Farren had unleashed the consuming darkness within her soul.
“I cannot track Eloise without my powers.” Desmond’s voice was hoarse yet stronger. “Give me the antidote now.”
Antidote? Caresse snatched her blouse off the floor and pressed it to her breasts as she struggled to her feet. Farren had given Desmond the paralytic. No wonder Desmond hadn’t fought for her. He’d been unable to access his Levari powers much less unleash any new ones.
“I suppose you have a point.” Farren motioned to the guards and they held Desmond while Farren secured a smooth metal band around Desmond’s wrist.
“What the hell is this?” Desmond snapped.
“A tracking device. It’s programmed with your DNA and locked on your unique signal. It will materialize right along with you no matter how many times you turn to mist. If you tamper with it, a poison will be released into your bloodstream. It kills in minutes so I’d leave it alone. You have two minutes to say goodbye and then I’ll reactivate your symbionts.”
Desmond rushed to her side as Farren and the guards moved closer to the door. They obviously had no intention of leaving the room.
Desmond pulled her into his arms and pressed her face into the hollow of his throat. “I am so sorry.”
Caresse nodded and lowered her gaze, not sure what to say. Her plan had failed and they’d both suffer for it. If Desmond couldn’t
find the missing captive, all hope was lost.
“I’ll find that Vladya bitch, no matter what it takes. That bastard will never touch you again.”
He sounded so resolute it made her smile, but fury simmered in the back of her mind. Desmond tried to kiss her but she turned her face away. How could he even consider touching her lips after watching Farren fuck her mouth?
Brushing her hair back from her face, Desmond gazed deep into her eyes. “Nothing could ever change the way I feel about you. Do you understand me? Nothing.”
Tears filled her eyes and emotion burned the back of her throat. This should have worked. If it hadn’t been for the paralytic it would have worked.
“That’s enough,” Farren urged from near the door. “Desmond has work to do.”
With obvious reluctance, Desmond crossed the room. He paused at the door and looked back. “I will return for you.”
A smirk twitched at one corner of Farren’s mouth as he watched the exchange then took a syringe from Roman and pushed the needle into the side of Desmond’s neck. “That should do it.”
“How long will it take to work?” Before Farren could answer, Desmond rolled his shoulders and sighed. “Not long at all.” Golden brilliance flashed within Desmond’s eyes, but the guards quickly flanked him. Then Farren opened the door.
“The only way you can ensure your mate’s well-being is to recover the Vladya captive,” Farren stressed.
Desmond allowed himself another lingering look at Caresse then he released his corporeal form and drifted out into the night.
“How dramatic.” Farren chuckled. He capped the syringe then tossed it onto a nearby table. “Too bad he couldn’t muster some of that passion a few minutes ago.”
