I laugh and pull her up, effortlessly.
She whines and wiggles her body, trying to bring her pussy back to my cock.
“Tell me again—who is your master.”
I pull her down. I’m long and thick, and as wet as she is, she still has to stretch to take in my full cock.
“Alain, you are. You’re my master.”
“Ride me, Bri. If you do it nicely, I’ll let you come. If you don’t, I’ll whip your ass again with the belt and send you home to masturbate in your bed.”
“I’ll do it the way you want!” She’s nearly crying with want. She can’t come until I let her, and she’s going to do whatever it takes to get that orgasm.
I keep a hold on her hips just to steady her but allow her to move as she wants. As she’s been commanded.
And fuck, she’s good. She squeezes and rocks, and sets a frenetic pace, moving up and down on my cock like a little piston of desire. I know it’s work for her because I feel her muscles quiver. I don’t care. I want her to wear herself out on my body, be so tired afterwards she can barely walk.
“Keep going.” I slap her ass as a motivation and grab her tits. Squeeze them while she goes up and down. Pinch until she whimpers, then ease off on the pressure. “Feel that?” I pull on her tits. “You like a little pain?”
“Yes,” she moans, grabbing my hair hard. Tugs.
“How about a little more?” I squeeze harder, then ease off. “Keep moving.”
I allow myself to relax into her body and enjoy the pure friction of her tight, delightful pussy, and when she’s nearly exhausted herself—before she collapses—I grab her hips again.
“You can come if you let me bite you,” I whisper into her ear. Speak it into her mind. “A little blood. You’ll love it.”
“Yes,” she says, her eyelids fluttering. “Just please, please, let me come.” She’s desperate. Her pussy is surely on fire with need in a way she’s probably never felt before.
I pull her closer to me and speak into her wet neck. “Then come. Now.”
And as she orgasms on top of me, grinding her body hard, she screams in pleasure.
I allow myself to come, too, and it’s the best damn orgasm I’ve had. Then, at the height of my bliss, I sink my teeth into her neck and suck, letting her essence flow over my tongue and down my throat.
She screams again and orgasms even harder, contorting her body on my cock so hard that I have to grip her with more strength to keep her steady. And as we both come, and come, and I drink her blood, I’ve never felt closer to another creature in my entire existence.
Bri
The orgasm rips into me like never before, and I scream. I’m not a screamer, but the power of this feeling is so intense that it can’t stay inside me.
I sink my fingernails into Alain’s skin, and squeeze my pussy as tightly as I can on his cock, and the universe explodes behind my eyelids and pure pleasure flows through my clit into my veins.
He’s biting me, hard, and it feels fucking amazing. I want him to keep doing it because the nerves in my neck seem connected to my clit, and my whole body is lit up like a sparkler, like fire, like a volcano.
My orgasm goes on and on until I can’t take it anymore, and then, when it crests, I go dizzy with the pleasure.
I think I pass out a little bit because when I open my eyes again, I’m lying on top of Alain, sweaty and panting, my pussy still sparking with pleasure. I’m so tired I can barely move my limbs. My thighs burn from the effort of riding him, and my ass is sore from the belt. My tits are tender as they press into his chest, and all of it—the pain and the pleasure mixed—is an intoxicating cocktail that makes me burrow into his body.
“Mmmm.” I press my cheek to his chest.
His arms go around me, strong. Powerful.
My neck tingles where he bit it and pulses in time with the little contraction in my pussy. “Alain, I can’t even.”
He chuckles. “Neither can I. Just rest.” His voice reverberates in my head. He’s inside my head, and he’s inside my pussy, still (even though he’s not), and I’m inside him—none of this makes sense, but it’s like we’re one, at this moment.
I don’t understand it, but I luxuriate in the sensation. Right now, I feel utterly content and protected. I’ve never felt this way before.
This time, I definitely fall asleep because when I awaken, there’s a soft blanket covering me and a little table next to the chaise with food and water. The water is in that ornate glass, the kind from the bar, and the food is arranged like we’re at a 5-star restaurant: little cheeses and toasted bread, fruits. Chocolate.
My muscles are still shaky as I sit up and eat a few things without thinking, just shove them in my mouth. But even as I do, I’m looking around for Alain.
It’s still so dim in here that he could be in a corner, maybe, or hiding in the drapes, but I sense that I’m alone.
I sip some of the water and blink. My dress and shoes and purse are here, beside me, and with them—a sense of loss. This night is going to be over.
Of course, all nights end.
I bite my lip and tug the blanket closer around me. “Alain?” Strange, my ass hardly hurts at all. I would have expected to be more sore from our play.
My thighs are still shaky when I stand. I pull aside the curtain of our alcove and peek out into the main floor of the club. Time must have passed because it’s quieter. Only a few patrons remain; the tall man from before is at the bar, chin in his hand, looking like the world presses down on his shoulders. A man and woman, naked, grind together and kiss on a settee across the room. But the spanking benches and cross are empty, the wood and leather glistening in the lights. Waiting.
I don’t see Alain.
Well, I did tell him one night only. And he agreed.
I get dressed and slide my feet into my heels.
It occurs to me to touch my neck. There’s a small bandage there. I frown. Alain bit me, and I liked it. I think he bit hard enough to draw blood–
I told him he could. I remember thinking it, even if I didn’t say it. Even begging him to do it.
Suddenly he’s back, and the room is warm and inviting again. I didn’t realize how much I missed him until he reappeared.
“Bri.” He glances at me, and I think maybe his face falls when he sees me dressed.
“Alain.” My voice is hoarse, and I clear my throat.
“Sit, please.”
Now that we’re not having sex, the urge to obey him is no longer as powerful. But I sit anyway because—well, I suppose I just like being in his presence.
He sits beside me, so closely that we touch from hip to shoulder, and wraps an arm around me. “Thank you. That was magnificent.”
He seems so full of life, even more than before. His enigmatic smile flashes in the dark. “You are spectacular, dear Bri.” He takes my hand and turns it over, then kisses the palm, his lips soft.
I flush. “It was amazing. Yes.”
“How do you feel?” He pulls me closer, and I relax into his body.
“I feel–“ I think it over. “Good. Really good.” It’s true. My body is tired, but I feel energized. Like I’ve taken more than I gave. Usually after sex, I just feel exhausted. But this time, my fatigue is laced with pleasure and strength.
“I’m glad.” He touches my neck at the bandage. “This is all right?”
“Yes.”
“It will heal faster than you think. Probably by the time you’re home.” He carefully takes off the bandage. “See, it’s almost done.”
I nod.
“I bit you on the other side from your scar.” He touches the other side of my neck along the puffy line left over from the surgery. His voice is light. “What’s that?”
I turn my neck away from his finger. “It’s nothing.”
He takes my arm. “And it matches the one I found here and here.” He taps just below the other two spots. “Tell me.”
“Just a thing.” I don’t want to think about my life at all rig
ht now. I just want to focus on the lingering pleasure. Plus, there’s no point in chit chat. “One night only, so don’t ask.”
“All right. Your first time with blood play?” His voice is low.
“Yes.” I slide my hand along his hard thigh. “My first time.”
“Then I thank you for the honor.” I hear the smile in his voice.
“No big deal.” I shrug. “Tons of people do it all the time.”
He straightens up. “Bri, it’s a very big deal.” He shifts so he can look into my eyes. “Don’t do that with anyone else. Here or another place.” His face is stern.
I frown. “You’re not my master anymore.”
He looks away. “Consider it advice, then.”
I bite my lip. “I promise, I won’t go around asking every construction worker and Starbucks employee to bite my neck.”
“You’re so sassy.” His voice holds humor. Then heat. “If you were mine, I’d whip you again right now for that.”
“If you were mine, I’d…” I bite off the rest of the words. Because I was going to say, “If you were mine, I’d let you.”
But this man isn’t mine. And he can’t be. Not with my life the way it is.
Besides, we agreed it was just for one night. He was probably just speaking out of habit.
I have to go.” I speak automatically. “If I don’t get home before daylight, I melt into ashes.” I touch one of the scars on my arm.
His whole body stiffens. “What did you just say?” His voice is cold, commanding.
I flinch. “I mean it’s getting late.” When his body doesn’t relax, I add, “it’s a joke, Alain.”
Finally, he eases up. “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “I –” he pauses. “Yes, I must also leave. I’ll walk you out.”
He doesn’t make any mention of phone numbers or next times, and even though this is the way I want it, my heart cracks a little as we walk together up that long, dark flight of stairs into the coat room of the club.
It seems to take only seconds to get to the street, where I summon an Uber.
I shiver, even though it’s not that cold.
“Here.” He removes his suit jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. “Until your ride arrives.” He puts an arm around me too, pulling me close. I nestle into him, fighting the urge to close my eyes and bury myself in his chest.
But he feels so good that I wrap one arm around him. I accidentally stick the other hand into the jacket pocket—and find a pack of cigarettes.
“You know, these will kill you.” I say it automatically, holding up the pack before sliding it back into the pocket. Weird. He didn’t taste or smell at all like cigarettes.
He laughs immediately, as if I’ve said something extremely witty.
“’Alain, I’m not kidding.”
He stops. “You’re quite right,” he says, formally. “Thank you for the advice.” But there’s still a smile in his voice.
Before I can respond, the car pulls up.
“Well, it’s been fun.” I hoist my purse up on my arm and cross my arms over my chest. The night is heavy with sleep and dark although it holds the tang of dawn in its essence. The street is quiet now, empty of the bustle and life it held hours earlier.
He looks into my eyes. “Bri, thank you. And goodbye.” His gaze is unflinching, and suddenly I feel all whirly and giddy and dizzy, like my brain is made of cotton candy spinning so fast it’s a blur. Everything that happened tonight compresses into one beautiful spark, which blows up like a firework, filling my vision with golden glitter.
As the glitter glows brighter and brighter, a sharp headache starts to pierce my skull, like white hot needles. I cry out and put a hand to my head.
Alain says something under his breath, urgent, and whispers something into my ear. Immediately the pain recedes, and just the bright flashes remain, and then they flash out.
I blink. “I don’t know what just happened.”
“Maybe a migraine aura?” He touches my cheek.
For a second, I can’t even think. Did I dance with this man? Surely, we had a drink. But what else?
“Look, here’s your Uber.”
The car has a pink LYFT sign in the window, and my phone buzzes—it’s my driver, who plays the field when it comes to driving apps.
I get in mechanically, even though something is tugging at my brain. I need to ask him something, tell him something—but I get into the back of the car, which is warm and smells like Subway bread. The driver is playing jazz.
I buckle my belt and look up to wave at Alain, but he’s already gone.
Chapter 8
Alain
“So, tell me the progress, Doc.” I stare at the screen, examining the charts and data arrayed in columns. I learn fast, but I can’t just pick up a double MD/PhD in medicine and experimental genetics on the fly.
My mind flashes back to the phenomenal time I spent with Bri three nights ago–Bri, whom I’m never going to see again.
Bri, whom I should have wiped completely before she left. It’s just that she reacted so badly to that first mini-wipe at the bar downstairs and even worse when I tried to wipe her at the end of the night, that I was worried I’d give her brain damage with anything stronger.
And the idea of hurting her was so repellent that I let her get into that cab with just a soft suggestion to keep everything a secret. To forget.
Probably I should have wiped her, though. Fuck.
I still can, if I need to. I could find her —
I force myself to focus on the numbers Dr. Lacey Albright is showing me. “Are you closer to a final formulation?”
Lacey looks up, her black eyes piercing. “You’re not paying attention. I just told you.” She taps her mouse to alternate the view on the large screen.
“Sorry.” I clear my throat. “I’m here now.” I smile, and she shakes her head.
It’s just she and I in her office, a private meeting. After hours, of course, when the rest of the medical staff have left this research building and won’t see me. They’ll never know I’m the one who built this place, was the brainchild behind it all, and that I pay their salaries. That I spend countless hours organizing this place to be the biggest research powerhouse in the world.
Sure, I could wipe them. But why take a chance on messing up the best minds the United States has to offer?
“Latest round of testing on compound X-C37 looks promising with p value coming in at 0.001.” She gestures as she goes through pages of data with me. “Based on the rest of the data, we could be ready to petition the FDA for human trials by next spring.”
I shift, restless. “Not fast enough.”
She gives her trademark tight smile. “Faster than any other drug company in the world, Alain. And with at least triple the initial data. I don’t think that’s too shabby. First company in the world to even have a drug that might halt demyelination.”
I cross one leg over the other and tent my fingers, leaning back in my chair. It smells like new carpet in here, and fresh wood, and the chairs are expensive office versions, plastic and fabric floating on titanium frames. But I’ve already built an even better building. “Can we do this fall?”
She purses her lips. “Alain. You hired me to run this.”
I put up a hand. “No, you’re right. Absolutely. If you have a schedule, I trust you.”
“These things can’t be rushed.” She narrows her eyes. “We’re a new company, and there will be extra scrutiny. Relationships to build with lobbyists and senators and donors. It’s not just about the medicine.”
“But money talks, and I have plenty of it.”
“And I’m counting on using that to help me build aforementioned relationships.” She smiles. “You know it’s one of my skills.”
I bow my head. “I do.”
We’re silent for a minute although I can hear the buzzing of the lights and the beat of Lacey’s human heart. At 63, she’s strong and powerful, fitter than many people half her age. An
d yet, so fragile—I spend many hours worrying about her safety and pondering the best ways to inspire her and help her squeeze out as much work as she can during the rest of her productive years on Earth.
“Shall we carry on? Show me the rest of the data.” I gesture at her screen.
“First, give me what I want.” She stands up and puts her hands on her hips. “I’ll need to hire a new lab assistant and an IT tech. Someone to update our internal web site and systems. The usual routine?”
“Do it. I trust you. How is security? Anything…unusual?” Something tells me I need to ask.
“Nothing of note.” A muscle twitches in her cheek.
I can tell she’s lying. “Lacey?”
She sighs. “Well, the other night there was a man, in the parking lot near the street light. He didn’t seem right. He just stood and stared at the building. By the time Owen went out to see about it, he had gone.”
“Did he try to get in?” Threaten you?” My senses are on alert.
“No. He was just watching. Do you think it’s something to worry about?” She frowns and adjusts her glasses. “Alain, are we in danger here? You know this work is important to me, but so is my family.” She gives me a look. “You know how much Deshaun and Tyra mean.”
I do know. She has pictures of her cute twin grandkids everywhere and tells me about them often.
“If it’s someone from my world, he won’t mean you any harm. He’s just trying to learn about me.”
I don’t actually think this is true. Karl is probably reaching the point where he’d harm my endeavors or people I care about just to hurt me. But telling this to Lacey won’t help her because there’s nothing she can do to protect against a vampire hell-bent on causing harm. I’ll set up some secret surveillance to protect her at night while I figure out what’s going on.
I keep my voice calm. “Keep any eye out and let me know if he comes back.” Try to send her waves of calm energy and positive vibes.
“All right.” She clears her throat. I can’t tell if she was affected by my mental efforts, or if she’s just tabling it, moving on. “Now are you going to watch and pay attention this time?” She gestures to her computer.
Her Vampire Temptation (Midnight Doms Book 8) Page 6
