Out of the Box 5 [On The Edge Series]

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Out of the Box 5 [On The Edge Series] Page 1

by Kallysten




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  Alinar Publishing

  www.alinarpublishing.com

  Copyright ©2008 by Kallysten

  First published in 2008, 2008

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  Out of the Box 5

  + Kallysten

  Copyright © 2008 Kallysten

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written consent of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  The right of Kallysten to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  First published January 2008

  First Edition

  All characters in this publication are purely fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Edited by Mary S.

  Cover by Kallysten

  Out of the Box 5

  My Lady Aphrodite,

  After the revelation I had by the poolside, staying away from Anando would have been the best thing to do. I was neither ready nor willing to be in a serious relationship; all I had ever wanted was sex. I had found that with Anando—a bit on the kinkier side than I had expected—and I wanted nothing more. I didn't want to want anything more, and didn't want to risk my heart. You know, my Lady, how wrong things went the last time I trusted a man with it.

  If I had thought Anando would try to deepen our relationship, I would never have set foot at On The Edge again. After his reaction at my near confession, however, I was convinced that he didn't want emotional strings any more than I did.

  I thought about it for three long weeks, prepared what I would tell him, and couldn't help feeling like I had been in the same place before. Back then, I had tried to set physical limits by demanding that he not bite me; those boundaries hadn't lasted more than a couple of hours. Now, I wanted to set emotional ones. I hoped it would work better.

  I put on the same dress I had worn my first time at the club. I guess it was a sign, to myself and to him if he wanted to listen, that I needed to start over with a clean slate. As I was getting ready, it occurred to me how strange the situation was. Many relationships stall because one of the people involved only wants to have fun while the other seeks something more. A couple of mine ended that way, which is why I'm so wary of relationships, and why we're in the exact opposite situation, now. What we have almost disappeared when we both started seeing too much in it. Who knew going out with a vampire could lead to such complications?

  It was with some apprehension that I took a cab to the club. I didn't know whether Anando would be there. I didn't know either whether he'd want to talk to me if he was. I just hoped.

  Hope, as it turned out, wasn't enough to carry me down to the dance floor when doubts crept in. I stopped at the bar and perched myself on a high stool, resting my clutch bag on the counter next to me. The bartender looked familiar, and after a few moments I remembered his name: Leo. I ordered a drink, watching him move around the bar to prepare it. Somehow, I could see in his movements echoes of the way Anando moved, that powerful grace that belongs to hunters. Tall and dark, he was handsome, and he had a beautiful smile. When he placed the drink in front of me, I tried to imagine myself with him for a one-night stand. I suppose I was trying to prove to myself that I wasn't as attached to Anando as I feared I was. His tight shirt and pants hinted at a delightful body, and in my mind his long fingers were perfect for caresses. Somehow, however, the idea was nowhere near as compelling as my daydreams of Anando.

  I pushed away that line of thought by taking a sip of my drink. It was fruity, with only a slight tang of alcohol. Just as I was lowering it again, my heart jumped in my chest. Anando was coming up the staircase. My first instinct was to go to him before he could leave; however, rather than heading toward the exit, he sauntered toward the curtained alcoves at the back of the room and slipped into one. Seconds later, a man who had followed him up the steps sat across from him in the booth and drew the curtain. The curtain enclosed the alcove, but it didn't quite reach the floor and their feet revealed what was going on. Anando moved to the back of the booth, and after a few moments the other man did the same so that they were sitting next to each other.

  Shock doesn't begin to cover what I felt at that moment. I had seen Anando dance with other women, so close to them that they must have felt every inch of him, but I had never imagined him dancing with a man, or even just taking blood from one. The images now surging in my mind were more intriguing than they had any right to be. I could feel my cheeks heating up, and I tried to cool down with another sip. It didn't help much.

  No more than five minutes passed before the curtain opened again. They called a waitress and ordered drinks, now sitting across from each other again and chatting amiably. Anando's ... friend left the booth after a few minutes, and he walked back to the staircase, his right hand busy fastening his shirt's sleeve over his left wrist, the bulge at the front of his dark jeans quite noticeable. My eyes followed him until he had disappeared, and with each of his steps, more questions popped into my mind about who he was and what had brought him to the club. Had he been looking for an encounter with a vampire, like I had the first time I had come, or had he known Anando before tonight? They had looked comfortable together, friendly. I couldn't help feeling a little jealous. I had chatted with Anando before, we had shared personal things, but had we ever been friendly?

  I was so focused on the man, I didn't notice Anando until he sat down next to me.

  "I can introduce you if you want."

  Turning to him, I blinked and watched him order a refill of his drink, unsure what he meant. When it dawned on me that he was offering to introduce me to the man—to his prey—I felt my cheeks flush again.

  "No! Of course not!"

  His grin widened a little more, and I thought he would keep teasing me, but instead he took a gulp of his drink. He had asked for white wine, I noticed absently, and I wondered if it was because he had just fed that he hadn't ordered blood.

  "It's been a while,” he said when a few moments had passed. “I was beginning to think I wouldn't see you again."

  Rather than meeting his eyes, I watched his fingers playing over the rim of his glass. However, with my mind summoning images of how devious—how wonderful—those same fingers could be when they touched me, it soon felt safer to look directly at him.

  "I needed to take a step back."

  I'd have expected him to demand an explanation. Instead, he replied almost too seriously, his grin all but faded.

  "I know what you mean."

  Encouraged by his answer, I took a sip of my drink and plunged ahead.

  "I want to keep seeing you. But we have to keep it simple.” I breathed in deeply. “No more gifts. No dinners or dates. No picking me up or driving me home. No spending the night."

  I stopped just before I could add, “No feelings,” but I was sure he understood. He looked pensive for a few moments, finished his drink in one long gulp then nodded slightly.

  "OK. What about
dancing?"

  I thought about it. The memory of his body moving against mine to the beat of the music made my decision for me. “Dancing is fine."

  He stood and extended his hand to me to help me down. “Let's go, then."

  I didn't hesitate before taking his hand, and we walked down to the dance floor together. As always when I was with him, I noticed a few envious looks thrown my way. There was too much going on in my mind for me to care much about that.

  The music was loud, the deep bass beat pounding in my veins with the same strength as my heartbeat. Anando still held my hand; he made me twirl in front of him. I laughed in surprise. When I faced him again and we started dancing, he was smiling, that dazzling smile of his that always makes heat spread through me like wildfire.

  I'm not used to dancing to fast beats, I'm more of a slow-song person. With Anando, however, it was easy to forget that. All I had to do was follow his lead and try not to be too self-conscious. It was hard to feel out of place when one of the sexiest men in the place had chosen me as his partner.

  I couldn't tear my gaze away from him as we danced. An incredible feeling of raw energy and sensuality practically radiated from him, and it was all I could do not to close the few inches between us. I craved to feel his body against mine, always so strong, so sexy...

  When the DJ switched to a slower song, I almost sighed at finally having the opportunity to get closer to Anando. I wove my arms around his neck, and he rested his hands on my waist, pulling me flush against him. His body slid against mine as we rocked gently to the music. He was hard, I could tell as much, and maybe I pressed my hip against his cock a little more than necessary. I just can't get enough of this rush of adrenaline that courses through me every time I realize the effect I have on him.

  He leaned in to speak right against my ear. I shuddered at the feel of his lips on my earlobe.

  "So tell me, dear Virginia. Have you thought of what game you want to play tonight?"

  I pulled back to give him a coy little smile. Resting a hand on his chest, I raised myself up on my toes to reply in his ear. “I might have."

  "Can I get a hint?"

  I pretended to think about it. “No, no hint. You'll have to wait."

  He asked again while driving us to his home, but I still refused to answer. The truth was, I knew what I wanted to pull from his toy box, but I couldn't bear to pronounce the words. I feel a little ridiculous admitting this, but I've never said them aloud. “If you're old enough to do it, you're old enough to say it,” the saying goes, but I feel like a blushing schoolgirl just thinking about it, even now. And I think I did blush when, kneeling in his bedroom by the wooden chest, I pulled out my chosen toys for the night. All five of them.

  I carried them over to the bed, and lined them up next to each other. Anando had lit a candle on the nightstand while I made my choice, and the light reflected on the metal vibrator, making it gleam softly. It was maybe seven inches in length and less than one inch in diameter, with a gently tapered end. My roommate in college had had one very similar, which she sometimes forgot to hide in her nightstand. Next to it was the thickest of the toys, a dildo a little wider than Anando's cock but shorter. Its black rubbery surface felt nice to the touch, and the many hard, raised dots gave it an intriguing texture. There was also a smooth glasslike dildo, maybe ten inches long, and a second vibrator, this one plastic and shaped like a large, thick cock down to the last vein. The last was a slimmer toy in a diamond shape, no thicker than two of my fingers at its widest point, with a flat base at one end.

  Satisfied—nervous, excited—about my choice, I looked at Anando, standing next to me by the foot of the bed. His eyebrow twitched as he looked at the toys in front of us. For a moment, I thought he would laugh, but his voice was perfectly level when he said:

  "Now you've got me wondering, Virginia. Are you trying to say there's something ... inadequate about my person?"

  My eyes widened in surprise, and I froze, my hand up in the air where I had raised it to stroke his arm. I was mortified. I hadn't imagined he would believe my choices had anything to do with him. They were his toys, after all.

  "I didn't mean...” I didn't know how to finish that thought, and I started to babble. “I thought ... You're not..."

  He took pity on me and stopped me with a smile and a shake of his head.

  "Forgive me. I was just teasing you."

  His hands settled gently on my shoulders, and he made me turn until I faced away from him. Slowly, almost slowly enough that I could count the teeth of the zipper, he unzipped my dress and pushed it off my shoulders, then helped it down until it pooled at my feet. My bra followed, then my panties.

  I've been naked in front of him several times now, but every time it's like the first all over again. The way he watches me always makes my heart pick up speed and always makes me wet.

  "Your turn to tease me now,” he said. He offered me his hand and helped me climb onto the bed. “Show me how you use these."

  Without thinking twice, I reached for the metal vibrator, although I'd have been hard-pressed to explain why. I was equally intrigued by all the toys I had pulled out of the chest. I guess I was trying not to think too much about what I was doing.

  I reclined in the center of the bed, propping myself up on the pillows. I'll confess my hand was a little unsteady when I twisted the base of the vibrator and turned it on.

  "Wait."

  I looked at Anando askance. He picked up a spare pillow and slid it beneath my hips, raising them off the bed. Somehow, this small difference made me feel more exposed. I couldn't wait to see how excited I could make him.

  I started by running the side of the vibrator against my stomach, just to get a feel for it, and from there I slid it up to my chest. I didn't dare touching the tip to my nipples, they are just too sensitive for that, but they peaked into hard nubs when I pressed the toy to the sides of my breasts.

  "Very pretty,” Anando said.

  He was standing next to the bed and slowly unbuttoning his shirt. His cock was tenting his pants, and I was rather happy to hear the choked up quality of his voice. Time to up the ante.

  Slowly, I slid the vibrator down my body and to the trimmed curls above my sex. I opened my legs a little more and bent my knees just enough to rest my feet on the bed. Anando moved from the side of the bed to the foot, where he could have a better view. I jumped when the blunt tip of the toy met my clit; I hadn't expected the sensation to be so sharp.

  "You're already wet for it, aren't you? Have you been anticipating this since you entered the club?"

  I didn't answer the quiet questions in words, but I did lower the vibrator to my folds. It moved easily there, up and down over my slit. Anando was right. I was wet. It was more from having his eyes on me, however—wide, intense and hungry—than it was from the feel of the vibrator now pulsating inside me or from my anticipation during the evening.

  "Do you like being watched?” he asked.

  Distracted by the way his tongue ran over his bottom lip, I only replied after a few seconds, my words surprising even to myself in their honesty.

  "I like ... you watching me. But it'd be better if you joined in."

  I hadn't expected that he would, or at least not so soon. He seemed in a devious mood, and I thought he would make me ask—beg—for his touch before granting it to me. Instead, he slowly undressed, leaving his clothes where they fell on the floor, and climbed onto the bed. He knelt between the toys and me, his cock hard and arching toward his belly, the very tip of it gleaming with clear precome. I found myself salivating at the sight of him.

  I watched his hand move over the remaining toys as though he were hesitating about which to choose. It stopped on the smallest, diamond-shaped one.

  "Why this?” he asked as he picked it up.

  I shrugged. “The shape was interesting."

  As soon as he started grinning, I knew something was up. I followed him with my eyes, feeling tense with expectation, as he walked t
o the side of the bed and opened the nightstand drawer. He pulled out a tube of lubricant.

  "I have a feeling,” he said, flicking the tube's cap open with his thumb, “that you don't know what this is exactly. Would you like me to show you?"

  Understanding dawned on me with the subtlety of a dropped anvil. It wasn't a dildo; it was—I had heard of it but never actually seen one—a butt plug.

  "I do know what it is,” I said, a little embarrassed.

  Still holding the plug and the lube, he came to sit next to me on the bed. His knee brushed against my thigh, too small of a contact when I so wished he would touch me with his hands.

  "Have you ever played with one of those?"

  Watching him, listening to his silky words, I forgot about the vibrator in my hand and let it rest on the bed. He had squeezed some lube on the tip of the plug and, having dropped the tube on the bed, was now spreading the slick substance over the entire shape. I never got to answer him and could only lie there and feel as he nudged my ass with the rounded tip of the plug. He must have taken my lack of reply for assent; the next thing I knew, he was holding the plug by its base and pushing it inside me, back and forth through my slowly loosening muscles. The widest part stretched me just on this side of uncomfortable. He pushed it in completely, until I could feel the flat base against my ass. The feeling was ... strange is the best I can say, I think. At least at first. It became something else altogether when he picked up the vibrator I had left to buzz next to me, applied some lube on its tip, and pressed it inside my cunt in a slow but steady motion.

  Masturbating with the vibrator had been one thing; I have never owned one, but I figured out rather quickly where and how to touch myself with it. For Anando to use it on me, however, felt completely different. He switched the speed a notch higher and fucked me with it—there's no other word for it. It was fast, and deep, angled to stimulate my clit at times and rub alongside the shape of the plug at other moments, but never long enough to make me come. Not until I started panting his name, that is. Then he slid the vibrator in and, leaving it there, leaned over me to tongue my clit. I clutched at the sheet beneath me, raising my hips rhythmically without knowing what I was doing. When Anando grabbed the base of the plug and started playing with it, not pulling it out or pushing it deeper but just twisting and nudging it, I cried out, my climax tearing through me and leaving me shaking. I started reaching for the vibrator; it was just too much against my sensitized nerves. Anando seemed to understand and pulled the toy out of me. I opened my mouth and breathed in deeply as though the air, heavy with the scent of sex, were fresh water at the end of a journey though the desert. I could feel Anando's heavy gaze on me. I looked at him, and he was devouring me with his eyes.

 

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