by Celia Styles
His body convulsed. I was thrown aside, but I quickly recovered and planted myself firmly behind him. "L-lady Sybil--God, please, no--"
It was now or never. My hands tightened, one around his cock, the other on the dildo. And yet, even as I wrestled him into stillness, all I could hear was his whimpering, and all I could feel was the pounding of his heart, the terror in his veins.
This isn't discipline, either.
And it was never.
***
"You did the right thing," Reshi said.
"I know I did the right thing," I said. "But I just--the rules are rules. A thrall must have consequences for his actions. He must be released if he falls in love. And so far? What've I done? Nothing!"
It was early in the evening again, but I hadn't fed yet. I couldn't stand to look at Nicholas and I banished him from my sight until I could, and the weakness from not having fed made me cranky. The wine didn't help.
"Is the world ending?" Reshi asked, as he picked at his quiche.
"Is the--what?"
"Is the world ending?"
"No. Why?"
"Then what's so terrible about breaking the rules?"
I couldn't come up with a good answer. "Fine," I said. I reached for the wine, and poured myself a glass. "Was I really so terrible with you?" I asked.
"Sybil, you let me take courses on Proust."
"No wonder you're insufferable."
"That's why you love me."
"Do I?"
Before he could answer the doorbell rang. Reshi went to answer it, leaving me to mull over what was either my epiphany or a moment of weakness. After I realized I couldn't do it to Nicholas, I unshackled him, eased him down, gave him a bathrobe, which he wrapped around himself. There was nothing I could say to him, so I left him. He hadn't left his room since then.
I am not a cruel person. And I was glad that last night had confirmed that belief. Nicholas, for all that he'd gone essentially unpunished, would probably think twice about his feelings again, and it would be a long time before he'd dare to disobey me again.
So why did I feel so dissatisfied?
It wasn't just the thirst, though the fact that I'd skipped the feeding that day definitely didn't help matters any. I wanted to be violent, to cause real pain, draw blood. That frenzy of adrenaline and blood that had taken me in the park had awakened a deeper kind of thirst, and I was afraid to find out what it would take to satisfy it.
"Sybil, you're not going to be happy with me, but..." Reshi came back in, leading Charles, dressed in a gray seersucker suit and carrying a bouquet of flowers. Reshi scurried out of the kitchen before I could scold him. I heard the main door open and close. So much for control over my own house.
"What did you say to him?"
Charles shrugged. "Only that it would be terribly rude if I couldn't at least give these flowers to his lady," he said. "Do you have a vase?"
I pulled out a pitcher from the cabinet, filled it about halfway with water, and slide the container across the cabinet at Charles. "What do you want?" I asked.
"Have you considered my proposal?"
I could only stare at him. I'd just spent the night wrestling with the question of how to manage my thrall, and he wanted to know if I would bear his child? The nerve of the man!
"I take it that's a no."
"I almost raped Nicholas last night," I said. "You still think I'm a suitable mother for your child?"
"But you didn't," he said. "So I'd say that demonstrates an immense amount of self-control for a woman who hasn't had to exercise any in over a century."
A vampire's stomach doesn't growl, exactly, if she hasn't fed, and we can go for up to a week between feedings if we have to. But that doesn't mean we don't feel hungry, and as he arranged the bouquet in the vase I found himself wondering if shapeshifter blood tasted different if he took on the form of a white tiger again.
"You look hungry," he said, after a moment. "I take it Nicholas no longer suits you?"
"He suits me fine," I said. "But I am hungry."
He stepped closer to me and took my hands in his. "I won't be your thrall," he whispered.
I laughed bitterly. "Believe me, with the way things are going with this one, I don't think I could handle a second."
"I am sorry for any troubles I have caused my lady." Nicholas's voice floated across the kitchen. I hadn't heard him leave the bedroom, and as he came in I wondered how much he'd overheard. He'd put on a pair of jeans, but no shirt."I should have accepted the punish--discipline--I should have--"
It was clear that he was in no state for a feeding. I could sense the numbness, the vast chasm of emptiness a person has to cross after they've been through something, while their soul recalibrates and tries to find "normal" again. I hoped it would--some people never did find the metaphorical ground again, some people ended up on an alien planet from which they never returned. I didn't think I'd damaged him that badly, but only time would tell. "Nicholas, are you hungry?" I asked, because despite feeling very sorry for what I'd done, seeing him shirtless fanned the flames of my appetite, and my mouth began to water. It was all I could do to not lick my lips.
"Do you like burgers?" Charles asked. He pulled out his phone. "I can have Five Guys deliver some of the best hamburgers in town in a heartbeat."
"He does," I said, when Nicholas just stared vacantly at us. "I think some food could do us all good."
After Charles placed the order, an awkward silence settled between us without Reshi's glib tongue to diffuse the tension. I led Charles to the living room, so that he could see the last of the sunset. "Beautiful," he murmured.
"Why me?" I asked. "There are at least a dozen others you could have propositioned."
"Half a dozen," Charles corrected. "The males of your kind are not exactly equipped to bear children. And as for why you--it's simple. You're the strongest."
"Really? That's it? Nothing about my charming personality or sophistication?"
Charles shrugged and took off the jacket of his suit. "Do I have to like you to father a child with you?"
"It's a child, not a car." I unable to believe that he could be so cold about it. "We'll be caring for this child until she comes of age--and that could be a long, long time if she ages slowly. Children aren't like plants. You can't just have one and pop it in the dirt and water it every now and then and have it grow up well."
"And you are strong, Sybil," he said. I felt his tail snake around my legs, drawing me closer to him. "I've been in New York for a while, watching you and Lisette and the others. The others--they would have raped Nicholas, had he been their thrall. They don't know, or understand, what life means the way you do."
"You only just met me yesterday," I said, feeling a chill run down my spine. "How do you know?"
"You drank my blood yesterday," he said. He bent over and pulled a blade out of an ankle sheath. "The bond wasn't nearly as well-formed as the one that you must have with him, but it was enough to tell me that I wasn't wrong to have chosen you."
He drew the blade across his hand. The scent of the blood, warm and fleshy and full of life, hit me hard. The hunger made it almost impossible to resist. After a moment I found myself kneeling on the floor, lapping his hand, sucking the cut as it filled. It was just what I needed. I felt myself becoming more settled, less snappy.
"My lady?"
I snapped my head around to see Nicholas standing in the entrance, watching us. "I needed to eat," I said, wiping my lips. "He--"
"You should have asked me," he said, rushing over to me. He helped me to my feet.
"You were in no shape to let me feed."
"I am yours," Nicholas said.
Charles reached out an arm and placed a hand on Nicholas's shoulder. "Don't worry, my boy. I won't take her from you." Nicholas looked at me, confused, wondering if Charles could really be considered a guest if I didn't exactly want him here. "I can see why she likes you," he said, running his hand down Nicholas's arm. "You're sweet, but not wh
olly innocent. Dutiful, but not boring."
I was as surprised as Nicholas was by this development, so surprised that I didn't even hear Charles ask me if he could kiss Nicholas. I don't remember what I answered, if I answered at all--the next thing I knew Charles was lip-locked with Nicholas, who was fighting to keep his eyes open, trying to ask me if this was all right. Not trying, I noted, very hard.
"Yes," Charles murmured. "That's right. Now kiss her with that same passion. Let her feel what I do--"
It was Nicholas's lips on mine, but it wasn't Nicholas. He tasted the same, but something had shifted. What was once merely eager became exuberant, and I had to fight to make myself felt. The frustration lit me from the inside, so much that I didn't even notice when Charles pressed himself against my back, only that he had a hand between my legs and was coaxing me to wetness. My legs turned to mush underneath me, and I felt Charles's hand inside me, his fingers twitching against me.
Nicholas's cock was hard against my breasts, now--I couldn't recall when or how my chemise ended up on the floor, but I was glad for it, because the tip of his cock grazing my nipples set off another convulsion of anticipation. "Take it," Charles whispered. "In your mouth. All the way."
I am the one who decides things here, a part of me wanted to shout, but there was no time to suss out the power dynamics and how they'd shifted. Nicholas thrust himself inside my mouth even as I opened it to take him. I tasted the muskiness of him as he slowly ground his hips against my lips, encircling him with my tongue. I felt Charles's hands on my breasts, pinching my nipples until they ached, flooding my body with desire. Above me, Nicholas groaned. My thighs grew wet and slick. I needed someone inside me, now--
I did not expect Charles to squeeze himself inside my ass. It wasn't painful, exactly--just alarmingly new. Anal had never been a thing for me, but as he settled into a slow, deep thrust-and-grind I began to realize that it was all in finding the right partner. Nicholas, harder than I'd ever known him, withdrew himself and began to kiss me, pressing brief tokens of passion against my throat, and my breasts. He used his teeth, and I felt my body clench when he did--and Charles let out a noise that was a cross between a grunt and a roar.
Nicholas moved my hand between my legs. "Touch yourself," he whispered. I fingered myself, obedient to his wishes, and Charles began to groan as my body heaved under the waves of pleasure. "I want you inside me," I gasped to Nicholas. "It's not about you this time, Sybil," he whispered. He pressed my lips to his throat, and as Charles came inside me I bit into the skin. The warm font of blood that gushed into my mouth came with all the love in the world, and I didn't mind the least.
Charles left me, flooding my entire body with an exquisite sense of release, and I felt Nicholas slip inside my pussy, even as it became almost spastic. I knew Nicholas, and the familiar ache of taking him deep inside, and the comforting sensation of his thrusts--but this wasn't the Nicholas I knew. He wanted more, and as the familiar ache became a new pain Charles's hands reached around me, pinning my arms behind me and stretching me out for Nicholas to take again, and he did, with his teeth, sharp, urgent bites. I tried to cry out, but Charles smothered my mouth with his lips. Charles slipped his hand between our bodies, and felt him tease the pulsating bud between my legs, and against the pain the pureness of the joy became blindingly clear.
The world spun open, and my mind shut down to take it all in. I felt fingers tickling my ass, hands guiding my hips, teeth on my shoulders and breasts. My body, overwhelmed by the ecstasy, became powerless, separate from my mind, and when Nicholas came it ran hot and wet down my thighs, but I was so lost in my body that I didn't mind. Charles carried me, laughing and crying, to my bed, where I awoke, alone.
My body felt as if the outermost skin had been grated off, leaving the nerves exposed. I felt everything as I got up--the slip of the sheets, each individual drop of water as I showered. Even the scent of the lavender body wash took on a new dimension. My hands trembled, even though I'd fed, as I dressed--a proper nightshirt this time, with shorts.
In the living room, Charles and Nicholas were sitting, talking. I heard Nicholas say, "I could never do it," and Charles saying, "You wouldn't have to."
"What wouldn't he have to do?" I asked, as I came in. The table was covered with paper wrappers spotted with grease. Reshi would have a heart attack. "I should be the one deciding what he'd have to do."
"Serve me the way he serves you," Charles said. He handed me a glass of wine.
"Why would he do that?" I asked.
"If we were to be married."
For a moment I was afraid he'd asked me to marry him in the throes of lust and excitement, and I, not knowing my head from my heels, actually agreed. "Who says we're going to get married?" I asked. "I still don't know if I want your child."
"I know," Charles said, raising his glass. "I'm hoping to change your mind."
"By fucking me out of it?"
"If that's what it takes."
It may have been my imagination, but the look that passed between Charles and Nicholas suggested that they were going to do just that. I couldn't decide whether this was good or bad for me. Three weeks later, I still can't.
