There was pressure that gradually increased and she willed herself to relax, to not fight the unfamiliar sensation of it. Then, suddenly the butt plug was easing inside of her, stretching her gently open.
The feeling was absolutely bizarre, but that did not stop Sara from pushing back toward Braze.
“Very good,” he said, “Now don’t move.”
He left the bed again. Once more, the sounds of plastic being torn away from something, then he was back again.
Sara felt something tickling her down her spine. Braze drew this new object along her vertebrae, then pulled it up and over Sara’s shoulder to where she could see.
A multitude of black leather strands hung like a horse’s tail from a short handle.
“This is known as a scourge, slave, and was once meant for the worst kinds of punishment. But, for you, and in my hands, we shall make it sing.”
There was no warning. No words to prepare her.
Those many strands of leather crashed into the skin of Sara’s bottom, some wrapping around to her hips, everywhere they touched stinging and hot.
It came again, and again, slowly gaining in force until Sara cried out. It hurt her, of that there was no doubt. But, those strands just as often impacted against the shining plug still in her back passage and the jolt of pleasure there was amazing.
He was relentless, striking her over and over, and Sara could feel when the beast began to surface in the man who mastered her.
The scents of a deep pine forest invaded the room. As before, it seemed as if the air darkened around them, as if they suddenly walked along dark paths and the ground underfoot gave up the rich odors of raw, black soil.
Suddenly the scourge was cast aside and she felt him come to her. Braze eased himself between her legs and she felt his cock slip past her opening, only to rise up and stroke through her folds.
Oh, my God, she thought, then even thinking turned to animal instinct and desire and words meant for humankind escaped her.
His member slipped back and forth through her folds, her juices practically dripping across him. The strokes rippled across her apex with spikes of such intense pleasure that it was like pain, and all the while, the plug rocked with their motions, its rhythm drawing groans from between Sara’s lips.
Braze drew back from her. Perhaps to admire his handiwork, perhaps simply just to admire her.
Then, his cock was at her cleft, pushing into her, then slipping deep, deep inside.
The feeling of him encased within her carried Sara over the edge. Her gasping breaths came up short as she felt him stroke in deep, his entire length running thick and hard, when with a shuddering sigh, Sara’s hands gripped the bedsheets in a white-knuckled spasm.
Her orgasm bucked down her body. Long muscles clenched across her abdomen before releasing then seizing in tight again. The pleasure of it rolled through Sara in waves of electricity that went to the tips of her fingers. On it went as she felt it anchor deeply behind her navel then ripple down to the small muscles that held Braze’s cock.
She clenched around him and she could hear him growling as he strove to maintain his control.
Her face hurt. Muscles quivered in her cheeks and mouth as her lips stretched back over a smile that would not release her.
Her man, her wolf, was riding her as she came and it was only getting better each time.
At last, Sara was able to take a shuddering breath and as she did, she felt Braze slip from within her.
Feeling daring, Sara said, “Can I please look at you, Master? I would like to see you...the wolf you, I mean.”
She heard a low grumbling sound that took her a moment to recognize. He was chuckling at her question.
Taking it as a tacit reply, Sara craned her head to look over her shoulder and back at Braze.
The man she knew was there, looking back at her. But, his eyes were no longer a familiar, molten amber. Rather, they had taken on a silvery yellow hue at the same time that his body, already heavily muscled, positively shone in gleaming blocks of delicious masculinity. His shoulders were enormous, capable of supporting worlds upon them, with a chest and torso chiseled in high relief like that of an Olympian deity.
His smile was bright and clear, but there, too, the wolf made itself known as she discerned large canine fangs, white and dangerous.
Brazier Abraxis was proportioned like a god, only this was a savage god that paid homage to full moons and nights filled with the hunt.
Sara could see that he held himself from fully transforming, and what was more, that it cost him. But, his discipline defined him and she knew that it was but second nature for such a man.
She squinted her eyes. There was something different about him, though. Something fundamental.
The dark tattoos that swarmed over his body were no longer so vivid. It was if they had faded, where before they appeared to be deeply emblazoned over his body.
She could have been wrong, but he looked purer somehow.
He looks clean...no, that’s not right. He looks less evil.
Her thoughts made no sense to her, but as he put a warm palm against her bottom, she could have sworn that she felt it, too. He frightened her less, as if the noble animal hiding inside him had rid itself of a monstrous shadow that darkened its soul.
“Ah, Sara...my little slave. Ever since I saw you in that restaurant, I have dreamed of taking you. Here.”
He gave the object still inside her back passage a light tap that sent a shiver down Sara’s spine.
“I think you are ready now.”
She did not know how to answer him. The idea of it was just so bizarre for her, yet remained exciting as his words resounded in the room. His deep, warm voice drew her in and before she could reconsider, she was nodding back at him.
“Ok...Master.”
Braze reached down to the bedsheets and picked up an unopened condom. Sara turned back to face the wall as she heard him undo the wrapper.
There was silence, then the strange feeling of him drawing the butt plug out from inside her. She never would have wanted to admit it, but in so brief a time, she had grown used to it...almost to the point of forgetting it was there.
There was more lubricant, cool and soothing, before she felt pressure once again. Although, this time it was her man filling her.
She heard him sigh as he eased inside her and the sensation of him was incredible. Then, to make matters that much more delicious, she felt his hand reach around to the front of her pelvis to stroke across the hard kernel at her apex.
Sara whimpered as he stroked in more and more deeply while his finger rolled her clit around and around.
She felt like she would pee or scream or just die as it all became far too much so quickly. Then, without warning, with none of the familiar signs of build up before release, Sara was convulsing in orgasm with great, heaving gasps.
Her hips pumped in electric bursts beyond her control, then she felt and heard Braze as he growled with his own imminent release.
His member grew harder, like an iron spike impaling her, then his own breathing took on the same cadence as Sara’s while an orgasm had its way with him.
He pounded in hard, pumping like an enormous piston, then shuddered a last time before sagging down against Sara’s back.
They stayed like that for a moment, until Sara laughed and said, “You’re too heavy. I’m going to break in half if you don’t move...sir.”
Again, that low, grumbling sound that slipped into more human tones with honest humor in it.
He drew back from her and Sara slumped down to the mattress while Braze left her for a moment.
Then, he was back at her side and gently running a moist washcloth over her body. Sara sighed, contented.
No...the word is “sated.”
And that is exactly what she felt. Sara was satisfied beyond anything she could have ever dreamed.
She looked down at the arms once more wrapped around her and this time she was sure of it. The tattoo
s had somehow faded while, at the same time, Braze had become more tender as he touched her. Gentler, as he had made love to her.
Almost simultaneously, they sighed then laughed quietly at themselves.
“You should try to talk to him,” Sara murmured to the man holding her.
This time, Braze sighed alone.
“I don’t know him anymore, Sara. I was only six years old when...when we were separated.”
“You mean when you were both told the other one was dead,” she replied, wondering to herself how any father could have done such a thing to his own sons.
“It doesn’t matter, Braze. He’s your brother, after all.” Sara tried not to sound too overbearing, but the two men had barely spoken a word between them since leaving the château.
“Half brother,” Braze said, “And, I will speak with him. In time. But for now, allow me to bask in the calm I feel at the moment.”
He nuzzled into her hair and kissed the nape of her neck, then said, “I don’t understand how or why, but since Clement’s arrival, I have known my first real peace in over five years.
“You must understand...I would go to that restaurant in search of silence, and then later, I went there because of you. But, now, I find it here, of all places, and to say that it is greatly desirable is saying too little.”
Braze had gone back to speaking in his strange, riddling way. As always, Sara had the feeling that he was speaking of two things at once, and the meaning on the surface was not the important one.
The mere idea of it, going to a crowded, noisy restaurant in search of calm, was preposterous when he had at his disposal an entire skyscraper with any number of empty offices behind armored glass windows and sound proofed walls. What he was saying made no sense, and not for the first time, Sara felt that this was a man living in a rarefied environment that lesser mortals simply could not understand. Not anymore than they understand the lives of fish living so deeply under the sea that the immense pressures would crush any normal living creature.
Will I ever understand this man?
Sara knew, though, that it did not matter. Understanding him, or not, she had given herself over to him in every sense of the word.
“Go to him in my place, Sara. Show him what it is that I see in you.”
Braze kissed her shoulder then moved to her jawline.
“Let him tell you how he came to find me...and why. Above all, why. And, I shall take some time for myself and sleep a dreamless sleep where voices do not come to speak in the words of the dead.”
Cryptic as ever, Braze released her and Sara got to her feet and started gathering up her clothes.
“Fine. I’ll go have a chat with Clement, but you had better come out and join in once you’ve had your quiet time.”
She turned to look at him, waiting for yet another puzzling remark from the enigmatic man. Instead, his eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell with the rhythm of a man well and truly at peace.
Sara smiled, looking down at him as she dressed, then tiptoed from the room.
He was turned in his seat, looking through the small window of the private jet, apparently lost in thought as he contemplated the same cottony clouds that had made Sara smile earlier.
His hair was longer than it should have been and was drawn back into a haphazard pony tail that barely tamed his wild appearance. One leg stretched out straight while the other was bent at the knee and Sara imagined it was because he still wore the short sword he had brandished in the dungeons of the château.
“Can I join you?” she asked, standing next to the seat that faced his.
The grey eyed man did not speak, only barely nodding his head while still watching the outside world fly by.
Sara sat. She interlaced her fingers and did her best to refrain from tapping her foot.
She did not want to admit it, but being seated next to yet another Abraxis made her nervous.
Sara cleared her throat, about to say the first thing that came to mind when he stirred.
“Does he know you’re being followed?” Steel grey eyes shifted to lock onto Sara’s own and suddenly it was just like that of Braze. Intense, penetrating, except that where the wolf threatened to burn in focused heat, these grey eyes menaced to freeze Sara where she was. Cold, like ice so deeply buried it had turned argent and blue.
“I’m sorry...what?” she replied.
Without wavering, his eyes held her.
“Don’t play dumb. There are vampires keeping an eye on every move you make. No point in trying to deny it.”
Vampires?
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sara said, trying her best to convince herself that the Journeyman was just a nightmare and that no contract had ever been signed.
The man Braze had named as his brother continued to stare at her without speaking for several moments, then let his breath out as he turned to regard the clouds outside once more.
Sara breathed her own sigh of relief.
“Ok, so maybe you don’t know. Fine. But that doesn’t change the fact that those monsters are tracking you. For all I know, they followed you to France, too. Like me.”
“You mean you weren’t looking for your brother all this time?” she asked.
“My brother?” he chuckled, “How was I supposed to be looking for him when I thought he was dead? No. Someone I’ve been able to trust until now put me on your trail and the pickings have been good.
“I follow you. I wait. And, sure enough, once night falls the vamps come creeping out of the woodwork.”
He tapped the leather scabbard running down his outstretched leg.
“Which means I get to take the monsters out, one after another. Which is the point of all this.
“The point of all what?” Sara asked, “I’m sorry but I don't think I understand.”
He replied without looking at her, “My mission is the point.”
She heard it then. There was something about the way he said it...my mission.
Sara recalled the moment when she had first seen him. She had taken him for a homeless man, dressed as raggedly as he was. But more than anything, what had stayed with her was the look in his eyes. A look of manic zeal that she had seen before in other people, the kind of people with a message to spread. What they thought of as the good news of faith and how others would burn in hell unless they took up the call.
“So, what is it. Some sort of religious deal?” she asked.
Then, inspiration struck as the pieces of his puzzle fell into place and she continued, “Are you some kind of a priest?”
He shook his head, a smile burgeoning upon his lips.
“What a strange idea, but no. I learned early on that I wasn’t cut out for that life. That was a universe that damn near swallowed me whole, but for a great man who saved me from it and from myself.”
Ok, Sara thought, yet another strange man speaking in riddles.
“I see that it is a family thing,” Sara said, “You Abraxis men talking in puzzles, while saying more than one thing at once when you think people aren’t paying attention.”
If there had been the glimmer of amusement in his eyes the moment before, that glow was snuffed out when Sara spoke.
His voice was cold as he replied, “I am no Abraxis. The day my father abandoned me, he took his name with him, and I became Clement Duchamps. My own mother couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge me. Apparently, it was too painful for her, but at least she lent me her name.
“She did that much.”
His voice trailed away as memories stirred behind his eyes. Sara felt that she had gone too far except that safe ground with the impossible man before her was equally impossible to find.
He cleared his throat as he shrugged his shoulders. Sara could not help but think he looked like a man with the weight of the world upon them as he did it.
“So, is that what Braze thought?” he asked at last, although Sara could tell he was not waiting for her answer. In any case, this was a man w
ho followed his brother’s way of changing the subject without warning.
“That I came looking for him? Of course, he would think that. Always the center of the universe, everything depending on him, as usual.”
“Well, you can take this however you want, but he tells me your being here is calming to him,” she hesitated a second, then said, “I can see it when I look at him...as if some burden has been lifted away because of you.”
Clement looked at Sara, then spoke.
“Good for him. But, maybe you should try seeing it from my side. For Braze, even as young as we were before we were separated, he has always seen the world as if it revolves solely around him. As if he is the hub around which the rest of us turn.
“That’s one hell of an ego, if you ask me.”
Clement rubbed his chin then continued.
“It’s not his fault, really. I can recognize that. Our father is the one who put him up on a pedestal and then kicked me into the corner.
“You see, I’m not a wolf like them. My mother was human and my father took her in a moment of weakness. That’s how he said it. It was weakness and I was the result. That same weakness bred true in me, a man who cannot change into a beast...
“You want to hear my story? I doubt you’ll find it that interesting, and I can already tell you that it doesn’t finish with a happy ending. At least, not from where I’m sitting.”
Sara settled back in her seat and watched the man before her. His voice took on a story teller’s cadence as he recounted the tale of his life.
“I first saw him while I was in detention. A sort of detention, anyway. They didn’t use terms like that. Not good for their image, I suppose.
“My nose was broken and my fists were scraped bloody, but the other kid was taken away on a stretcher and we didn’t see hide nor hair of him for a couple of weeks.
“But, that sort of behavior, even if it happens from time to time among twelve year old boys, didn’t win me any points. I was the new kid. And, the rumor had spread like a red tide through the orphanage that my father had given me up...just like that.
Her Billionaire, Her Wolf--The Novel (A Paranormal Alpha Werewolf Romance) Page 11
