Vampire’s Consort

by I. T. Lucas

  Brel hadn’t realized that a consort was equivalent to a spouse. He’d thought it was a fancy term for a live-in companion, but it didn’t matter.

  Brel cupped the back of Rena’s neck. “Krall do not have spouses. But if the designation of consort is agreeable to you, then I have no problem with you referring to yourself as mine.”

  “What if I say no?”

  “Then you’ll go on trial like any other lawbreaker.”

  “That’s not much of a choice.”

  He stroked her cheek again. “I didn’t say I was giving you one. But know this, little one. I take care of what’s mine. You should take comfort in the fact that you and your family will never lack for anything for as long as you are with me.”

  11

  Rena

  Rena was trapped, and in more ways than one. Despite his assurances to the contrary, Brel must have used mind control on her. As much as she tried to fight his thrall, she was powerless to resist him. He’d made her weak, bending her mind to his power so she wouldn’t want to resist him.

  That was the only explanation for the crazy cravings she was suddenly assailed by. Like wanting to thread her fingers through his waist-length black hair and feel the shiny strands cascade through them like liquid silk. Or like wanting those black eyes of his to burn with desire for her, and only her. And his fangs, oh god, those scary long fangs. She wanted him to take from her, and no one else.

  Stupid girl.

  He was a high-ranking Krall, one of their elite, their aristocracy. She could never be more than a slave to him. Nevertheless, it was better to be a slave to this superior male specimen than a queen to an inferior one.

  Definitely mind control.

  Rena had never had thoughts like that before, and not even her attraction to the gorgeous councilman could explain it. Then again, it was rumored that the Krall emitted powerful pheromones, ensnaring their victims even without the help of a thrall.

  Everything about them was designed to support their parasitic existence. Their seductive beauty, their powerful mind control, their pheromones--all of that worked in concert to ensure humans served them willingly, or at least without offering too much resistance.

  It was a one-sided symbiosis, in which the benefits for the taker were obvious while questionable for the giver. There were rumors about some supposed boons the Krall could grant to those they favored, but she’d never seen proof of it.

  Except, it didn’t help that she knew all that. Once Brel decided he wanted her, there was nothing Rena could do about it. Her only other option was to go on trial and be given to a much less benevolent master.

  “Come, Rena.”

  Her sketchbook tucked into a deep pocket in his robe, Brel took her hand and led her out of the library.

  Glancing back over her shoulder, Rena caught Gregor watching her from the second-floor landing, his face contorted with rage.

  She wanted to tell him not to worry, that she was going to be okay, but Brel’s hold on her hand was unrelenting. He didn’t even feel her tugging on his sleeve to try and slow him down.

  “Can I at least say goodbye to my friends?”

  He pulled her against his side. “I’ll bring you with me the next time I come to the library, and you can talk with your friends then. It’s not like I intend to lock you up in a cage.”

  She hadn’t thought of a cage, but he’d said that he would punish her, and her imagination had provided several possible forms of it.

  Like being chained to his bed. Naked.

  Oh, god. Why did that image arouse her so?

  Brel chuckled. “Maybe I should rethink the cage. It seems to excite you.”

  How did he know that?

  “Can you read my mind?”

  “I can scent your arousal, and I can hear your heartbeat accelerating.”

  It hadn’t escaped her notice that he’d avoided answering her question. But if he could read her mind, then other Krall could do that too, and that didn’t make sense.

  If they could read thoughts, no humans could’ve escaped them, but some had.

  With his arm wrapped around her waist, he suddenly bent down and swung her into his arms. “This way we can cross the distance much faster.”

  It was a relief.

  Walking hand in hand with him through the town would’ve been so shameful. Everyone would have known that she was about to become his blood slave.

  But with how fast these demons moved, she and Brel would seem like a blur to the humans. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Rena closed her eyes and braced for the dizziness that was sure to follow.

  The Krall preferred to walk or run rather than use motorized transport. And since most of the northern region was comprised of small communities, they seldom used vehicles.

  His movements were so fluid that she barely felt any jarring, the cold air whooshing against her exposed cheeks the only indicator of the speed Brel was running at. Less than ten minutes after he’d lifted her into his arms, he slowed down at the entrance to his mansion.

  “Welcome to your new home, Rena.” He walked in as a human servant opened the door and bowed low.

  “Aren’t you going to put me down?”

  “Later.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “Up to my suite of rooms. We need to get the punishment part taken care of first.” He took the stairs two at a time.

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  He chuckled. “You’ll see.”

  That didn’t sound too ominous. Maybe all he wanted to do was feed from her?

  Rena had never been fed from before, and it was a little scary, but supposedly it was intensely pleasurable too. Some humans got so addicted to the feeling that they were willing to do it free of charge.

  They were called junkies, or worse.

  Embarrassed to even think of the degrading names people called them, she tucked her nose against Brel’s neck, hiding behind his long hair. “Are you going to feed from me?” she whispered.

  “I’m not hungry, but I’m craving a taste.” He put her down on his enormous bed, then closed the doors and locked them with the power of his mind.

  Rena swallowed. “I’ve never done this before.”

  “Fed a Krall or got punished by one?” He removed his robe and tossed it on a chair.

  Rena flinched. She’d assumed feeding him would be her punishment, but apparently she’d been wrong. “Neither.”

  Was he going to take her virginity as punishment? Slaves were used for a variety of purposes, but she wasn’t naive enough to think that he wanted her to do housekeeping. With the hungry way he was looking at her, Brel had either feeding or sex on his mind. Or both.

  Except, sex was considered a reward by the Krall, something they bestowed on their favorite blood-slaves, or exceptionally lovely sellers of it. Could taking a virgin roughly be considered a type of punishment?

  But how would he know that she was a virgin? He hadn’t even asked whether she was married or if she had a boyfriend.

  Not that it would have mattered to a Krall.

  He would’ve taken her anyway.

  12

  Brel

  Brel didn’t like the scent of fear emanating from Rena. What did she think he was going to do to her?

  “I thought that maybe you wished to feed. But if you are not hungry, I could clean or help in the kitchen. I’m not much of a cook, but I can follow instructions.”

  It was cute the way she was trying to play dumb. But what did she hope to achieve by that, stall for time?

  “That’s not what I had in mind, little one,” he let his voice drop deeper, reverting to the naturally raspy, guttural inflection of the Krall.

  As he prowled toward the bed, her breath hitched, and she backpedaled away from him, all the way to the ornate headboard.

  Sitting on the other end of the bed, he pointed to his knees and commanded, “Come here.”

  When her pupils dilated, and the scent of her arousal flared, Bre
l knew Rena had finally realized what was coming. More importantly, she wasn’t afraid.

  She was excited.

  Good girl.

  He was going to have so much fun with her.

  What most humans didn’t realize, and those who experienced it didn’t talk about, was that for the Krall aggression and dominance were part of sex. But since humans were so much more fragile than Krall sex partners, the aggression had to be tamed and controlled.

  After all, even the cruelest of the Krall didn’t want to damage their feeders. Keeping humans healthy and relatively happy ensured that their blood tasted good and was nourishing.

  Her cheeks flaming red with embarrassment, she slid back down, stopping next to him. “Are you going to…” She swallowed, unable to complete the sentence.

  He patted his knees again. “Spanking is a very mild form of punishment, and in no way fitting the severity of your crime. But as I said, I can choose your penalty, and I’ve decided to go easy on you. But that’s only as long as you cooperate and take your chastisement without delay or argument.”

  She got up to her knees, but remained frozen in place, just staring at his knees as if they were some foreign objects that she didn’t know what to do with.

  Normally, he would have waited patiently for her to drape herself over them so there was no question about her accepting the punishment, but it was evident that Rena needed his help to do this.

  Turning to her, he put his hands on her waist, lifted her, and laid her over his thighs. For now, he was going to allow her the protection of her dress.

  As he put his palm over her upturned behind, the scent of her arousal flared hot and heavy, with only a tinge of fear intermingling with that alluring aroma.

  Kneading one cheek and then the other, Brel inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with her scent. “You have a lovely backside, Rena.” He lifted his hand and smacked her bottom lightly.

  She whimpered, but he wasn’t sure why. It shouldn’t have hurt, not much anyway. Maybe she was overwhelmed?

  “That wasn’t too hard, was it?”

  She shook her head.

  He smacked the other cheek, harder this time.

  “How about now?”

  She shook her head again, but that wasn’t a definite answer. “I need to hear you say it.”

  “It wasn’t too hard,” she mumbled into the bed cover.

  He appreciated her honesty. Rena could’ve tried to wiggle out of more severe punishment by pretending it hurt too much. Not that it would’ve worked. To the contrary, if she lied, he would have shown her no mercy.

  Using the same force as he’d used the second time, which was barely a tap for him, he delivered several quick slaps before flipping her dress up and yanking her panties down.

  “What are you doing?”

  She tried to push up, but he held her down with a hand on her back. “Spanking is always delivered on a bare behind. I’ve just given you a few moments to get used to the position.”

  With a sigh, she slumped back, submitting to his will.

  Good girl.

  Without barriers, the scent of her desire was so strong it was intoxicating, and it was a mighty struggle to continue with the punishment without running a finger over her slit and testing how wet she was.

  But he would be doing them both a disservice.

  Rena was obviously turned on by it, and he would be shortchanging her by stopping too soon. Besides, he could hardly call ten light smacks a punishment.

  The next twenty weren’t as light, and by the time he was done, Rena was sniffling softly. He rested his hand on her heated flesh, then unable to help himself bent over and kissed one cheek and then the other.

  “It’s all over, little one. Your punishment is done.” For now. “And since you’ve taken it so well, I’m going to reward you.” He brushed a finger down the valley between her ass cheeks.

  Rena tensed and lifted her bottom at the same time as if unsure whether she wanted him to pet her or not.

  Gently, he pushed her back down and continued his trek, finding her center hot and wet.

  “Did you like your spanking, little one?” He gathered moisture on his finger and rubbed it over the sensitive nub at the top of her slit.

  Krall females didn’t have one, their pleasure derived solely from penetration.

  The effect of Rena’s indignant huff was ruined by how throaty it sounded. “Of course not.”

  “Don’t lie to me.” He lifted his hand and brought it down on her bottom with a loud smack.

  “Ouch.”

  He smacked the other cheek just as hard.

  “Please, stop.”

  “I’ll ask you again. Did you like your spanking, Rena?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good girl.” He rewarded her by circling the center of her pleasure.

  “Oh, God.” She moaned.

  “Do you like it when I touch you like this?”

  This time she answered truthfully. “I had no idea it could feel that good.”

  He frowned. Had she been referring to the spanking or to where he was touching her?

  Rena had admitted to never having been spanked, but could it be that she was a virgin?

  “Did anyone touch you like this before?”

  Her face still buried in the bedcover, she shook her head.

  Apparently, before today, she’d never enjoyed the pleasure of a male’s touch. But the way she’d said it, it had sounded as if she’d never even touched herself.

  “No one? Not even you?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Oh, little one. What a waste.” Not that he was indeed sorry that she hadn’t been touched. “But do not fear. I’m going to give you so much pleasure, your coffers will be full in no time.”

  He lifted her up and turned her around, so she was sitting sideways in his lap, with her dress still hiked up and bunched around her waist.

  13

  Rena

  Rena didn’t know what to be embarrassed more about, the fact that she’d enjoyed getting spanked, or that she’d never touched herself to discover the pleasures her body was capable of.

  So what if the preacher warned against succumbing to the sin of self-pleasuring. He also cautioned against premarital sex, but hardly anyone was listening to him.

  Rena wasn’t very devout, but for some reason, she’d always been afraid of doing the wrong thing. Which had probably been a good instinct since her one and only real transgression had gotten her in so much trouble.

  Hooking a finger under her chin, Brel lifted her head, so she was forced to look into his black eyes. “I know what the human preachers are saying, but it’s not true. The sins they talk about are not sins at all. And taking pleasure in sex didn’t bring about the earthquake that freed the demon horde from our prison in hell.”

  “You’ve heard that?”

  He chuckled. “There is little we are not aware of, but we ignore it, as long as they don’t incite rebellion. You know it’s nonsense, true?”

  “Yes.”

  Stroking her cheek, he leaned and grazed her lips with his. “But you are a good girl, aren’t you? That’s why you’ve listened and obeyed anyway.”

  She nodded.

  “Let me show you how wrong they are.”

  Flicking his long, pointy tongue at the seam of her lips, Brel coaxed her to open for him. “Have you ever been kissed?” he murmured against her mouth.

  “Not like this.”

  “Good. I like being your first. That way I don’t have to undo any fumbling human’s mistakes.”

  As his tongue delved inside her mouth, Rena was surprised by how wonderful he tasted. Like coffee and chocolate and cinnamon, and some other spice she couldn’t make out.

  Was it something he’d eaten before coming to the library? Or was it what all Krall males tasted like?

  Since this was the first kiss out of many more to come, she was going to find out soon enough, and the truth was that Rena was looking forward to it.


  Brel was good to her.

  Even the so-called punishment had been pleasurable in an odd way. Arousing. But maybe that was the work of Brel’s pheromones?

  Or maybe he was thralling her?

  That could explain why she was entertaining such absurd thoughts as courting more punishments in the future.

  I’m losing my mind.

  When his finger returned to her moist folds, drawing maddening circles around her puffy lower lips, her thoughts got all scrambled. Only one coherent thought surfaced. She needed more.

  More of his kisses, more of his fingers and more of something she couldn’t describe. Her whole body was taut with anticipation, her nipples straining against the top of her dress, aching to be touched, to be sucked on.

  Where had those images come from?

  Was he putting them inside her head?

  That must be it. Because a moment later the arm bracing her back tightened around her, and he reached with his hand to cup her breast.

  Moaning, Rena arched her back, pushing more of it into his palm.

  Brel let go of her mouth and dipped his head, closing his lips over one achy nipple through the fabric of her dress.

  As his touch triggered a sudden spasm in her core, she tried to clamp her inner thighs together, but his hand was still there, preventing it.

  Rena whimpered in frustration.

  But as his long finger screwed into her tight opening, a hoarse moan left her throat, and when he pressed the heel of his hand against that most sensitive spot at the top of her slit, she threw her head back and called out his name.

  She was going to die from sensory overload.

  Brel had lied to her. The punishment he’d intended hadn’t been the light spanking he’d given her. He was going to take her life by overloading her with pleasure.

  And yet, she didn’t fight him. Couldn’t.

  When he worked a second finger inside her, stretching her, the slight burning sensation was a lifesaver, momentarily alleviating her stupor.