Serving the Wicked

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Serving the Wicked Page 5

by Wendi Zwaduk


  “I want to paint.”

  “Me?”

  He nodded. “I’ve set up the former sunroom for us. My paints are there along with your perch.”

  “Perch?” Did he want her to pose with a fish? Really?

  “Your seat.” He held her in his arms and carried her to the sunroom. True to his word, he’d set up paints, canvas, sheets and a strange piece of furniture.

  “What is that? Did they forget to put the back and arms on this sofa? Or is it a strange chair?”

  “It’s a chaise longue.” He placed her on her feet. “Strip. I want to drape one of the sheets on you.”

  “Like a ghost?” She whipped the shirt over her head and shoved the boxers down her legs. Moments later, she stood before him, nude. “Now what?”

  He placed her on the chaise longue, resting her arm against the side and her back to him. He arranged her, tucking her hair over her shoulder, then the sheet across her chest and over her arm. “Look over your shoulder at me.” When she did, he smiled. “Yes.”

  Raine sat on the chaise and composed herself. She’d expected the room to be chilly, seeing as there was no sun and she was nude.

  Casey moved around her, draping the cloth and moving her hair until he had just what he wanted. His touch sent shivers through her being. She whimpered.

  “Like that?” he asked. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

  “I do.” She met his gaze. “I’m ready.”

  “As am I. I’ll sketch you first, then we’ll paint another day.” He took his position behind the easel.

  She settled in her seat and tried to relax. Did he find her acceptable? He had her scars on full display. He confused her. He’d given her pretty clothes and kept her fed. She wanted him to make love to her and longed to feel his shackles on her wrists. But he also seemed to keep her at arm’s length in the bedroom. No trying to take her, no midnight caresses or stolen touches. He’d behaved like a gentleman—except he wanted to watch her masturbate. He seemed to like her, but she wasn’t sure.

  She didn’t know how much time had passed as he said nothing while he worked. The scratch of the pencil on the canvas was the only sound. Her foot tingled, and she wanted to stretch. Should she ask to move? Would it mess up his art?

  “Raine?”

  She jerked. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if he’d spoken to her. “Sir?”

  “Do you need to move?” Casey rounded the chaise longue. “Are you cold?”

  “Did you get your picture done?”

  “Sketch.”

  “Sorry.” The tips of her ears burned. When he looked at her, her nipples beaded, and her skin flushed. She wanted him to place his hands on her, to feel her and see how much he affected her.

  He caressed her bare leg. “What are you sorry about? I see the wheels turning in your mind. You have nothing to apologize for.”

  She shifted to face him. The sheet fell away from her shoulder and bared her breasts. If she wanted him, then she had to be blunt.

  “Raine?” His eyebrows rose. “Sweet?”

  She loved hearing him call her that endearment. “I’m thinking about your gaze roving my body. You’re studying my legs, my back, my ass… I wondered what it’d feel like for you to touch me. Your hands on me, probing and pinching, making sure I measured up to your preferences. What it might feel like to have you inside me, watching me.”

  “You have a lot of thoughts on your mind.” His eyes flashed. “What do you want me to do with you? Tell me.”

  She placed his hand on her breast. “I want you to own me.” She offered up her wrists. “I want to play like at the club, but only with you.”

  “Sweet?” He massaged her breast, rolling the nipple between his finger and thumb. “Tell me.”

  “I want your cuffs and blindfold. I want to be put on display, to be spanked, then have your cock in me. In my pussy. My ass. I want to belong to you.” She scooted across the chaise longue to straddle his lap. “My mouth, my pussy and ass all belong to you. Bite me, mark me, but promise I have your respect. I trust you.” She ground on his lap. “I’m wet and ready for you.”

  “What are your nos?” He placed her back on the chaise and knelt between her legs. He latched onto her breast, sucking hard.

  Damn. If he kept this up, she wouldn’t be able to think straight. “No suffocation, breath play, needles and no true abuse.” She slid her hands over his shoulders. “I want to serve you.”

  “I see.” Casey withdrew a thick silver chain from his pocket. “Do you want this?”

  A collar. Yes, she did want it. Her mouth watered. She wanted to wear his collar all the time.

  “Do you?” he asked and opened the catch.

  “I do.” She longed to grab the collar and place it around her throat, but she knew better.

  “Tell me your safe word.” He toyed with the chain but didn’t move to put it on her.

  “Purple.” She lowered her shoulders, exposing her neck. She trusted him. Casey made her feel sexy and desired again.

  Casey placed the chain on her and clicked the catch into place. “You will serve me?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Her nipples ached for him.

  “Very well.” He withdrew a thin leash from his pocket and attached the slender chain to the large ring on the collar. “On your hands and knees. Crawl.”

  She wondered if Jerome would see her, then decided she didn’t care. She needed to please Casey.

  “Take me to the guest room.” He held on to the leash.

  Tingles shot through her body. She could be seen. The chance thrilled her. The carpet cushioned her knees and palms as she made her way from the sunroom to the living space. She listened for Jerome and Atell but heard nothing. Her hair tickled her shoulders and her breasts swayed with each movement forward. Cool air swirled around her but did nothing to quell the fever in her veins. She longed to press her legs together to stave off the excitement. It’d been so long since she’d been properly respected and dominated.

  Casey opened the door to the guest room then switched on the light.

  Her anticipation ratcheted up. He had the power to kill her, but also to bring her to the highest points. He could make her fly.

  He led her into the room to the bondage bed. “Up. Sit on there—legs open and hands behind your back.”

  She scrambled to her feet and managed to take the requested position.

  Casey draped the leash between her breasts and cupped her jaw.

  She didn’t know his rules, but he hadn’t said anything about not looking at him. She met his gaze.

  “Good girl.” He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. “Ready?”

  Oddly excited and a little scared, she nodded. She feared she’d love the punishment too much and beg for more. She’d find herself and shed the parts of her past she hated. “Yes, Sir.” She’d replace the nastiness in her former life with the good in the life she’d created with him.

  Casey produced a length of silk. “Close your eyes.”

  She did as told, and he placed the blindfold around her face. Losing her sight amplified her other senses. She listened for his next move and when he neared, she smelled his cologne. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Good girl.” He touched her breast, running his fingertips over the tight bead. “I want you to guess what I’m using to touch you.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She bit back a groan. “You’re using your fingers.” She leaned into his touch. “Feels good.”

  He stopped caressing her nipple. Silence enveloped her. She wished he had breath so she could feel the warmth of him breathing on her skin. She listened hard for his next move.

  Something soft trailed over her belly, then along her thighs.

  What was he using? She waited to answer and tried to figure out what he’d used. Soft, but not pillowy, almost like leather…from a flogger?

  “Well?” He touched her again and caressed a large portion of her legs and the apex of her thighs with the instrument. She dug her knuckles into the leath
er of the bed. If he used leather, then it wasn’t the same as the material of the bed. No, he used a singular touch, so not the tails of a flogger. Warmth flooded her and she spread her legs. She moaned.

  “No guesses?” he asked. “What about this?” He slid something over her pussy.

  Cold, hard. She wriggled her hips. Whatever he used, it was almost like a toy. A handle? Glass? A glass dildo? She wasn’t sure. What she did know was that he’d kicked her desire into high gear. She wanted him to touch her pussy. Now.

  “Girl?” he asked.

  “Glass? A handle?” She shuddered. “Sir.”

  He chuckled. “This? Is that what you think this is?” He pushed against the mouth of her pussy.

  Whatever he used, the unrelenting chill seeped into her. “A dildo?” Has to be. When he didn’t answer, but penetrated her with the toy, she groaned. She’d rather have him in her, but this was nice, too. “Thank you, Sir.”

  He stopped touching her again, and she missed the closeness.

  “Girl.” He raked something over her breast, then across her nipple.

  She strained to guess. The item had multiple points of contact and a bit of sting. A hairbrush? Comb? A Wartenberg wheel?

  “Tell me,” he said, his tone commanding without being cross.

  She loved the way he spoke to her. He meant what he said but didn’t sound like a dick. “A comb?” She was wrong and didn’t care. Why he’d keep a comb in the playroom was beyond her. “A brush?”

  He chuckled again and touched her with the soft item. He caressed her breasts and toyed with her nipples. She ached for him. Craved him. He hadn’t fucked her and yet she needed him more than her next breath. Every nerve ending in her body stood at full alert. She panted. “Sir.”

  He ceased his actions again. “Slide off the bed and turn around.” He held on to her waist and helped her down. “Turn and press your cheek to the leather.”

  She did as told. The leather smelled like him and the warmth from her backside seeped into her being. She widened her stance. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.” He massaged the globe of her ass. “Who does this belong to?”

  Her pussy creamed. She needed a man with a firm touch and commanding tone, but a soft side, too. “Yours. It’s yours.”

  He swatted her. “Mine?”

  She groaned. The light bit of pain added to her pleasure. “Thank you, Sir. I’m yours.” She arched her back. This man respected her. He cared about her and though he spanked her, it wasn’t out of anger, but love. She offered her ass to him. “Please, Sir?”

  “Is this mine?” He spanked her once per side of her ass.

  “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” She held on to the edge of the table. “More, please?”

  This time, he grasped her hips and removed the toy. She hadn’t heard him unzip his pants or shove the fabric to the floor, but she recognized the blunt head of his erection against her pussy.

  He said nothing and pushed into her.

  The fullness overwhelmed her. She stretched to accommodate him as best she could. “Thank you, Sir.” She felt every ripple and nuance of him. He dug his fingers into her waist and groaned.

  In moments, he built into a steady rhythm. He pushed in deep before pulling most of the way out.

  She memorized the feel of him inside her, the tickle of his curls against her backside and the bite of his fingers on her skin. She met him thrust for thrust. Although she wanted to remember every aspect of his lovemaking, he blew her mind. She couldn’t think straight. He consumed her thoughts and senses. Only Casey existed. Only their being together mattered. She shivered beneath him and the orgasm washed over her.

  He hadn’t told her to wait for him to come, but she couldn’t have held back if she’d tried. She trembled around his cock. “Sir.”

  He growled and shoved deep into her. The scrape of something sharp raked over her shoulder. Teeth? He licked her skin, then bit.

  Heat filled her and the orgasm intensified. She collapsed on the bondage bed. “Thank you, Sir,” she managed. “Thank you.” She’d never be the same. Never.

  Chapter Six

  Casey withdrew his teeth, licking the wound shut, then added a few more thrusts before he stilled. God, he loved being inside her. A shiver rocked through him. She’d be his undoing if she left him.

  She sighed. “Sir?”

  She didn’t sound irritated like he’d crushed her, but contented. He pulled out and shoved himself back into his pants, but didn’t zip. He stood and gathered her into his arms. Instead of removing the blindfold, he carried her limp body to the bedroom. He’d take care of the playroom later. Right now, he needed to take care of her. He kept the lights down and sat on the bed.

  She curled into him. “Sir?”

  “Let me change.” He placed her on the mattress, then stripped. Once nude, he settled beside her. He tucked her to his chest. “Sweet. Close your eyes.” He removed the blindfold. “Open them slowly.”

  She snuggled into him, then met his gaze. “Thank you, Sir.”

  He held her, keeping her close. “Welcome.” He hadn’t done anything too extreme—just a few touches and spanks, but he loved how she’d come alive for him. Each whimper, groan and tremble had spurred him on.

  “You freed me, Sir.” She splayed her hand on his chest. “I was afraid I’d hate what we did, but you know how to touch me. How to make everything good.”

  “That’s the idea.” He kissed the tip of her nose.

  “What did you use?” She threaded her arm around him. “On me?”

  “A feather,” he said. “I trailed it over you. Then the glass end of a crop. It’s one of my favorite implements.”

  She shivered. “I loved it. What else? There were at least three, not including your hands.”

  “I used a three-row pinwheel, and a flogger was another item. The falls are the softest ones I have.” He toyed with a lock of her hair. “I wanted to go slow with you.”

  “Thank you.” She kissed him. “Casey?”

  “Yes, sweet?”

  “I want to do it again—all of it with you.”

  “We will.” She fortified him. Her blood, and the power in her kiss were what he needed. He wouldn’t be the same. Not ever.

  “Hold me,” she murmured. Within moments, she fell asleep.

  He stayed with her and listened to Raine breathe. He didn’t believe in love, especially not love at first sight. They’d made love once and yes, he’d kissed her, but that wasn’t enough to know if he was fully in love with her.

  Still, he yearned for her. He couldn’t wait to see her and would kill to protect her.

  When she’d fully fallen asleep, he eased out of bed. He locked her in the bedroom and headed to the playroom. He could make her do the cleaning but decided against it this time.

  “Sir.” Jerome hurried up to him. “Sir.”

  “Yes?” He stopped mid-step. He didn’t have to ask Jerome what he wanted. The open portal in the living room told him everything he needed to know. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d opened one, but the portal was there. “When did this happen?”

  “Just now.” Jerome ducked behind Casey. “Why?”

  “I’m not sure.” Vampires couldn’t open a portal. Only Fae and deity had the ability. He inched up to the portal. “Hello?”

  A figure stepped up to the opening between the realms.

  If he’d had breath, he would’ve lost it. The woman in the portal amazed him. A Fae?

  “Hello?” He stood still. “Welcome to my home.” Casey bowed.

  The woman blew out a long breath. “Casey? Casey Willis?”

  “Yes?” He kept back from the portal. “You’re Fae.”

  “No, but I’m mated to a Fae.” She smiled. “I’m Rachel. My mate is Jon, the Fae prince. He says he’s not the king, but he really is since the rest of the royal family isn’t…they’re…gone.”

  “Jon is alive?” He didn’t believe her.

  “Sure is.” S
he held up her hand. “Let me get him. We weren’t sure you were alive.” She frowned. “You’re not alive, are you?”

  “I’m a vampire.” He stiffened his spine. “I suppose you don’t wish to talk to me now?”

  “Are you kidding?” She flicked her hand. “Jon?”

  A man stepped into the frame of the portal.

  Casey recognized the man right away. “My prince.” He dropped to one knee. Hell. He’d never expected to see the prince again. For all he’d known, Jon was dead, too.

  “Stand, Casey.” Jon laughed. “I’m glad to see you.”

  “Even in my present condition?” He rose to his feet. “I’m not the man, the Fae, you remember.”

  “You’re a vampire.” Jon stepped through the portal and into Casey’s living room. “Made you hard to track.”

  “I’m sure.” He clasped his hands together. “You’ve found me.”

  “I’m grateful. We need you and your partner,” Jon said. “You have others with you?”

  “My butler, Jerome, my security specialist, Atell, and the woman with me, Raine. I don’t know if she’d allow me to call her my partner, but she’s my girl, yes,” Casey said.

  “The human.”

  “Correct.”

  “We knew.” Rachel stepped into Casey’s living room. “She is worthy of you.”

  “How do you know I’m worthy of you?” He’d been excluded before.

  “You were on the Fae court,” Jon said. “You might have been turned, but I’ve seen your magic work. A true vampire would’ve turned Raine, killed her or tortured her because she’s human.”

  “Lomax,” Casey growled.

  “Ah, you’ve heard of him.” Jon swept his gaze over Casey. “You believe you were banned from the court. Who said you were? Not me.”

  “Honorian. He pushed me out. My money wasn’t good enough.” He gritted his teeth. Jon hadn’t shunned him, but he couldn’t hide his irritation.

  “He was wrong,” Rachel said. “But he’s also no longer with us.”

  “Dead?” Casey asked.

  “Recruited by Lomax.” Jon shrugged. “Probably dead now.”

  “Goddess,” Casey murmured. “You’re sure?”

 

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