Dark Temptations Volume I: A Collection of short stories

by K. A Knight

  “Seems I have managed to shut you up, Harpy,” he whispers, stirring my hair spread around me with his breath.

  “Maybe I am just being a good girl,” I taunt.

  He drops a kiss on my lips before sitting back over my hips. My stare automatically drops to the tent in his pants, making me squirm underneath him. This is probably not a good idea, but I couldn’t stop myself even if I tried.

  “What, don’t know what to do now, Blainy?” My mouth keeps opening, and when that dark, evil smile I know so well pulls at his lips, I know I am in serious trouble.

  “Harpy, Harpy, Harpy…” He wags his finger at me. “What did I say about that mouth of yours?”

  Holding his hand up, concentration lights up his face, and I get to watch his new powers first-hand as a knife grows out of his palm effortlessly.

  “You’re getting good at that,” I say in awe.

  “Practice makes perfect,” he murmurs, before turning to look at me.

  “Blainy…” I warn.

  Quicker than Bubbles and Rumple, he darts forward and cuts the bottom strip off my top.

  Gasping, I throw him a glare. “Blain!” I shout.

  “Shut the fuck up, Harpy.” His words are harsh, but his tone is soft, seductive.

  I grind my teeth and glare at him. Using his hand without the knife, he grabs my hair and wraps it around his hand, the red prominent against his skin. Using it as a handle, he drags my head up slightly and then wraps the material around my eyes.

  Completely cutting me off, I can’t see anything through it, and if the laugh he lets out is anything to go by, this was his plan all along.

  “Now I get to do whatever I want with you.”

  My breathing picks up as my heart smashes against my chest, I should be scared, but I trust him. We might both be crazy and fight, but I know he would never hurt me.

  Something lightly stings as it’s dragged up my chest, cutting the rest of my shirt away until I feel the material flutter open to my sides, and my bare skin erupts in goosebumps. Again, he drags it up my chest, this time skin to skin and along my neck, until he reaches my mouth, the metal cold against my lips. I daren’t even move as he toys with me.

  “It looks so pretty against your flushed skin,” he groans, before pulling the knife away and replacing it with his lips.

  I chase after him, a fire burning in my skin. One filled with anger, pain, and need. There has always been an insane attraction between us, one that flares bright and hot. I think it’s about time we gave in to it.

  He pulls away slightly, until I can feel his breath puffing against my lips. I refuse to beg or even ask, but I need him to touch me.

  His lips ghost down my neck, where he stops at the soft curve between it and my shoulder. I yelp when he bites down only to pull away and kiss it softly after, taking the sting away. He does this again and again, until it all starts to build up in me.

  “Blainy…” I gasp as he bites down.

  “Shut up, Harpy.” He bites harder, giving me a warning.

  I know it’s going to leave a mark, and I growl before reaching to try and find him. He grabs my hands and yanks them above my head, and before I can utter a word, he has them tied to the bed above me. Yanking on them, I start to struggle when I realise I can’t get away.

  “Now, where the fuck was I?” he asks, more to himself while I lay there and fume.

  “Untie me,” I say carefully.

  “Not a chance, Harpy.”

  In my head, I start to call him all of the names under the sun, until his lips wrap around one of my nipples and I arch off the bed, my mouth opening in a silent gasp. He lets go with a pop and blows cold air on it, making me shiver as I clench my thighs together while my pussy starts to pulse. My breath pants between my open lips and I let out a cry as he gives the other nipple the same treatment. Pretty soon I am writhing, and when he stops touching me, I make a needy noise, causing him to laugh. Snapping my mouth shut, I fight against the bonds, intent on giving him some of his own medicine.

  “Stop,” he orders, before nipping at my nipple.

  “Blain,” I yelp, trying to cover the fact I actually liked that.

  Lying here, completely at his mercy, I find the anticipation is worse than anything else. I don’t know what he will do next and I feel so vulnerable. I jump when his hands land on my trembling thighs.

  “Open them,” he orders, and I can still hear the snark in his voice. I don’t have to see his face to know he is rolling his eyes. Asshole. I still do what he says though, and I can feel the heat of his gaze on my exposed pussy.

  “Blainy...” I warn, but before I can say anything else his mouth is on me.

  My hands twist in their binding as I try to escape his mouth, it’s too much but not enough at the same time.

  “Fuck, Harpy, you taste amazing,” Blain moans as he attacks me again, his tongue slipping through my wet folds and finding my nub. His dirty mouth has me moaning and pushing against him, needing everything he can give me. When he slips a finger inside me, I am gone. I thrash against his mouth as he sucks and rubs at my nub and his fingers curl inside me until I explode.

  He pulls away from me as I come down, shaking and moaning. He rips the blindfold off, and I blink away the darkness to see his desperate face. Lust twists it until he looks like a wild animal. I can’t help but wind my legs around his waist. His tattooed chest heaves, and I can’t help but want to run my tongue down it and explore him. His chin glistens as he smashes our lips together and I taste myself on him. Pulling back, he watches me from inches away.

  “Are you sure, Harpy?” he asks, a softness in his eyes.

  “I want you, Blain. I always have,” I admit, and the softness is replaced with raw, carnal hunger.

  “Then get ready, baby, because I am going to have you screaming my name for all your other men to hear,” he growls.

  He slams into me, the pain and pleasure mixing together. Tugging at the bindings, I beg him, “Please, Blainy, untie me. I want to touch you.” I gasp when he pulls out and slams back in.

  Growling, he rips the bindings away and I instantly bury one of my hands in his hair, ripping the much loved hat out of the way, keeping the other hand on his shoulder to hold on. I both love and hate this side of him, usually when he gets wild, it’s his anger I feel, but this time it’s his need. Using his hair, I pull him to me and tug on his bottom lip, making his perfect, hard strokes falter before he slams into me again and again.

  Needing to breathe, I pull away as he starts to kiss down my neck, nipping more stinging bites as he fucks me, leaving his mark. I grapple at his shoulder desperately and drag my nails down his back, making him groan. An evil smile twists my lips, and I do it again.

  “Harpy,” he warns.

  “Harder,” I moan, and he groans before leaning back, taking the heat and weight of his upper body away. Still inside me, his raises my legs over his shoulders and shows me how much he was holding back.

  He fucks me hard and fast, slamming into me again and again before leaning down and flicking my nub expertly like I am one of his blades. I fall apart around him, and he comes with a roar.

  He falls on top of me as we both try and catch our breath, his head pillowed on my chest.

  Still panting, I run my fingers through his hair, his face is serene and peaceful for once.

  “You didn’t make me scream though.”

  He snorts out a laugh, his breath hitting my breast. “That was only to take the edge off, today you are mine.”

  Chapter Eight

  The next few days pass in our usual routine of training for our shows and getting ready for our first Christmas. Alcide has decided we would stay here, in this town, for our celebration. Usually, we would only stick around for a couple of days before moving on to the next town for safety reasons. But the townsfolk have been more welcoming here, and the show has been unusually popular, selling out most nights, prompting Alcide to schedule extra shows. Jesse had been the one to come up with
the idea for a Christmas inspired show. He had been researching, and by researching I mean pouring over the magazine and the pictures inside it. I would have been more helpful, but the magazine just reminded me of my shortcomings.

  “Rhea, look at this, come see what they say about Christmas trees!” Jesse exclaims excitedly, calling over to where I am stretching.

  “In a bit Jesse, I need to rehearse,” I say lightly, and it’s true, I do need to rehearse—the routines Alcide has concocted are putting me through my paces. I have always been flexible, but since I joined the circus my fitness has been tested, and we soon learned I had to build up my cardio and stamina. Not to mention my balance. But a part of me feels guilty at the disappointment that fills his face.

  “Aren’t you excited about Christmas, Firecracker?”

  I stop stretching with a small sigh and look over to where Jesse, Blain, and Rex are sitting. I catch Rex and Blain checking out my ass, and throw them a look. Rex has the decency to look embarrassed and turn away, a blush fanning his cheeks. Blain, on the other hand, smirks at me, giving me a wink.

  “Just come and read the fucking magazine, Harpy, and maybe we can finally get back to normal,” he comments, like he is fed up with the idea of Christmas. Always acting the big man, but he can’t hide the excitement in his eyes when we discuss the celebration and the Christmas show.

  I walk over to the guys, with an uncomfortable knot in my stomach as I perch next to Jesse.

  “Of course I am, what did you want to show me?” I inquire, knowing there is no way around this unless I act like a bitch and upset Jesse, which I am not prepared to do.

  “Read this! It says that they used to decorate trees!”

  I look down at the page that had caught their attention. It shows a family gathered around a large, bushy tree and putting decorations on it. I’ve never seen a tree like it, it is wider at the bottom and then tapers to a point at the top, and the leaves look pointy, not like cactus needles that we have in the desert, but green and luscious. I find the idea of putting sparkly objects on a tree a bit bizarre, why do they need to ‘decorate’ it? But they all look happy, and when I look up, I see the looks of interest on their faces. I see that Jesse is pointing at a bunch of text, so I squint and look closer, and then move away.

  “That’s really interesting!” I bluff, pulling my colourful hair back into a bun, focusing on my new task.

  “You can’t read,” Blain accuses, my head spinning round to look at him, eyes wide as he outs me to everyone. Embarrassment courses through me and a blush colours my cheeks.

  “Blain,” Rex admonishes, before looking at me with a small smile and a shrug of his muscled shoulders. “It doesn’t matter if you can’t read, Rhea, we don’t think any less of you.” I nod at his comment, knowing he means it, but I’m not able to shake the feeling of embarrassment.

  “There is nothing to gain from teaching a slave to read,” I explain, even knowing that I don’t have to explain myself. Not many women are taught to read unless it benefited their owners in some way. My eyes flick up to Blain and he is looking at me with a strange expression, a mixture of anger and determination.

  “Then we will teach you to read.” His words are not a question, but a statement, his tone demanding anyone to challenge him. I arch my eyebrow, not expecting this response from him. Rex or Jesse, sure, but asshole Blain offering to teach me how to read? I doubt he would have the patience to, but the offer touches me. I am still struggling to understand what is happening when Nixon wanders over to join us.

  “Nixon, apparently we need a tree to decorate,” I say with a smile, gesturing to the magazine that is clutched in Jesse’s hands.

  He glances from me to the magazine before nodding and walking away. I stare at his retreating back in bewilderment, wondering what the hell was going on today, when he shoots me a look over his shoulder and gestures, rolling his eyes like it was obvious he wanted me to go with him. I jump up and walk over, taking his offered hand with a smile, falling into step with him.

  “Are you going to tell me where we are going?” I ask after walking in silence for a while, and roll my eyes at the shake of his head, his half smile making me chuckle. We walk to the edge of the campsite and Nixon looks around as if looking for something. Hearing the shuffling of feet, I turn and see the guys trailing behind us, looking just as confused as I feel. I shouldn’t be surprised that they followed us, they look out for each other...we all do.

  His eyes narrow and he starts walking again, his destination clear in his mind and we leave camp. I feel a little nervous about leaving the safety of the circus, but I know I can protect myself, plus the guys are with us so we should be safe. We travel for about ten minutes, until I realise where we are going when I see the tree. It is about as tall as Blain and grows around a small oasis. How Nixon knew where to find it could only be due to his gift. These little oases are exceedingly rare, something I had never seen until I joined the circus. The colours, the luscious greens, and unusual flowers always leave me speechless.

  The tree is different from the ones in the pictures. While they are squat with leaves covering the whole length of the tree, this one has a narrow trunk with thin branches at the top, the leaves along those branches are teardrop shaped and look more like the trees I am used to. Except the trees that we usually see always look worse for wear, like they are battling for water from the parched ground. The trees and plants here look healthy and lush. When we had first passed one when the circus was traveling, I had asked if there was magic in the ground keeping the plants alive, while the rest of the world struggled to survive. Blain laughed at me, but Alcide had only smiled and shrugged his shoulders, saying, “Well, we adapted, why couldn’t the plants?”

  Looking around us now, I can’t help but think back on that conversation and Fallstown, where we stayed just after I joined the circus. That settlement had been thriving and was built around one of these oases, so perhaps I had been right after all?

  “Nixon, it’s the wrong type of tree,” Blain drawls, obviously realising what his silent friend had in mind. I look over my shoulder at him and frown, about to have a go at him for talking to Nixon like that, my protective instincts in overdrive. I know that is daft, he is truly able to take care of himself and he is bigger than all of us, but he is family.

  “It’s different, like us. I think it’s quite fitting,” Rex pipes up behind us, a thoughtful look on his face.

  “I like it,” I announce, smiling at Nixon. “I think it’s perfect.”

  Nixon looks over at Jesse, and we all do the same. Jesse is looking over the tree like an artist might inspect a new canvas. As our resident Christmas ‘expert,’ we leave the decision up to him. He breaks out into a grin and strides forward, clapping Nixon on the arm. I can’t help but notice that Jesse makes sure he is standing in front of Nixon before he touches him, and that he only touches his arm, knowing that startling him could cause a trigger. This reminds me that these guys are truly a family.

  “Great find Nixon, this will be great.” I feel some of the tension leave Nix at Jesse’s words, his signature half-smile appearing on his lips. “Although I’m not sure how we are going to get it back.” Jesse looks over the tree again.

  Nixon shrugs and moves forward as if to grab the tree and rip it from the ground. A part of me screams at this, not wanting to kill such a limited resource just to decorate it, and glancing at the way Rex is reaching towards the tree with a pained look, I can tell he is feeling the same. An idea comes to me, and I step forward, placing my hand on top of Nixon’s.

  “Wait. Let’s dig it out, we can plant it in a pot back at the circus.”

  “Alcide is going to kill you if we have to lug a tree around with us everywhere we go,” Blain replies with a laugh, and while his words are reproachful, his expression is full of mirth, like he is looking forward to seeing the look on Alcide’s face when we turn up with a tree.

  I can see his point. It’s not going to be easy moving it around with
us. Another idea forms in my head, and a smile lights my face.

  “What about if we plant it back at the campsite, a memento that we have been there, and somewhere for us to return to next year? Alcide keeps talking about making our mark on the places we visit, maybe this could be it?” I suggest. Rex is already nodding and smiling, and I can tell from the gleam in his eyes that Jesse likes the idea. Blain rolls his eyes but eventually nods in agreement.

  I turn back and look up at the tree again, wondering how we are going to dig it up when all we have is our bare hands...I look at my hands, a smile crossing my face again. I close my eyes and focus on the place within me where my power lies, calling it forward. I had been working really hard on making my powers work for me on command, they usually only surface instinctively when I am in danger, so it’s been hard work, but it’s getting easier.

  The telltale tingling in my fingers lets me know that it’s happening, along with the drain on my body that using my powers takes, causing me to stumble slightly. A hand on my shoulder steadies me, and I open my eyes to see Nixon looking down on me, a slight frown marring his face. He doesn’t like me using my powers unless it’s to protect myself, and worries when he sees how drained I am after using them. Raising my hand for him to see I show him my now long claw-like nails.

  “Rex, think you can grow some claws?” I ask with a smile. I know he struggles to use his power without the animals around, and I will dig this tree out by myself if I have to.

  Turning my back so he doesn’t have us all watching, I kneel by the tree and start digging in the dirt. Nixon instantly joining me, digging with his bare hands, and the others follow his lead.

  Before long I see someone kneel opposite me and glance up to see Rex, his hands morphed into giant paws with sharp claws extended, as he starts excavating the dirt. I look over him and frown slightly at the sweat glistening on his brow, knowing the toll it must have taken on his body. Feeling the weight of my gaze, he looks up at me and gives me a smile that reminds me why I find him so attractive, his cheeks dimpling, his eyes focused wholly on my face.