Taken by a Vampire

“Being pretty is done for the day. I’d rather look well-used by an eager wench.”

She bit his jaw, earning a chuckle as he returned the favor. She willingly dug her fingers into his scalp, enjoying the thick tangle of his hair, her body starting to pulse in fervent need. She thought of what Chloe had said about wanting to devour Brendan, and knew exactly how she felt.

Niall banded his arms around her waist to lift her. He didn’t take her to their room, but instead surprised her by taking her below, to the cellar. In Evan’s bedroom, he put his mouth on hers, holding the embrace until he laid her on the bed facedown. He moved the pillows so her cheek was against the mattress. “Arms and legs spread, muirnín,” he ordered.

She obeyed instantly, her body amping up its responses when he produced silken rope from a drawer next to the bed. The type of amenities available when one stayed on the property of a sexual Dominant. Not much different from being in the guesthouse of a vampire, after all.

Niall skillfully knotted the ropes around her wrists and ankles, drawing out the spread position until her body was pressed even deeper into the mattress, her mound and breasts tingling with the pressure. When he was done, he slid his knuckles down her spine, swept her hair off her back, so there was a clear expanse of flesh for him to see. “Fucking gorgeous,” he muttered. She tried to look toward him, but he made a quiet noise of command.

“Nane of your temptations tonight. Ye led me by my cock to get me to sleep, but ye only get away with that on rare occasion. Evan wants to peel ye out of everything but those flimsy stockings and heels himself.”

He slid a blindfold over her eyes, one with a snug Velcro closure on the back to ensure that it wouldn’t loosen. She was beginning to tremble. Though it was certainly not the first time she’d been bound this way, everything with them felt like the first time.

When he put his knee on the bed between her legs, her heart was beating high in her throat, her pussy weeping. True to his Master’s desires, he’d kept her in her wedding attire, the silver dress, thigh-high lace stockings. She wasn’t wearing any panties since it would have ruined the snug line of the skirt. He hadn’t even removed her heels, looping the rope over the tops of her feet so it kept the shoes bound to her soles.

Sliding down the side zipper of the dress, he slid his fingers into the opening, stroking her body from below her breast to her hip bone. At her noise of pleasure, he made an approving rumble.

“Aye, you’re hot for it. We could tell, those hungry eyes at the reception. Fair killed us, not taking ye then and there. But ’tis a drug to us, lass, drawing out your desire. Particularly to a vampire. I’m to leave you like this, let ye think about what Evan might have planned for you.”

She didn’t want him to leave. It wasn’t a demand—never that—but a plea. She wanted to give them both pleasure, let them take their fill of her, of each other. She could vividly imagine Niall buried inside of her from behind like this, while Evan fucked him, held them both under his power.

“I serve our Master,” she responded. She wouldn’t let her own desires eclipse theirs. “Whatever he wants. Whatever either of you want.”

His fingers paused in their long stroke, then he pressed a kiss to her spine, just above the back of the dress. “You, muirnín. We both want you.”

Then he was gone. Being a wine cellar, the room was cool, but it wasn’t uncomfortable to her, not with the heat of Niall’s touch still affecting her. She was vulnerable, facedown, blindfolded, but an InhServ had no defenses against her Master’s desires. She submitted, surrendered. Heart, mind, soul, body . . . utterly his . . .

She used it as a meditation exercise, weaving arousal with acceptance, patience. She’d never had difficulty waiting on Stephen’s desires. Perhaps patience and indifference could look very much the same.

Now, however, there was no mistaking one for the other. Her pussy was wet, needy. As she squirmed, rotated her hips, the mattress gave her clit the pressure it craved. She thought of Evan watching her, perhaps allowing Niall to do the same, and made the movement as provocative as possible, lifting her hips like an animal in heat, tempting a male . . . or males . . . closer. She licked her lips at the resulting wave of sensation, did it again.

Her continuing dance brought the short skirt high enough to expose the slick pink lips of her sex when she lifted her hips, begging to be fucked, to be tongued there. She thought of Niall’s thick fingers pushing into that opening, the clever way he had of rubbing her, making her come apart. Her fingers flexed in her bonds. He’d used a knot that wouldn’t tighten on her wrists, keeping her bound but not restricted in circulation. No pain or discomfort. He and Evan cared for her, watched over her, and it made her long for them even more.

Tomorrow night, she would perform with any other submissive they required, but the end goal would be the same. Them touching her, taking her . . . She didn’t want anyone else, she wanted them. She needed them. Longed for them.

She wasn’t being deliberate now. Her body moved of its own accord against the mattress, rubbing her clit in a faster motion, building the orgasm in her lower belly. She couldn’t go over, wouldn’t without her Master’s consent, but she wanted to show him how hot she could get for him, making her pussy cream to the point the scent would reach his enhanced vampire senses.

“You teased your Master into coming to you.”

He was here. She came to a shuddering halt, almost moaning at the sound of his voice. It held a sternness that made her doubt herself, though. She’d misbehaved, earned his disapproval.

“No, Alanna. You have not earned my disapproval. Only my punishment.”

Thin strips slid down her exposed buttock, the dress bunched at the small of her back. “So courteous of you to lift your skirt for me. There are craftspeople here who make things for Masters to inflict punishment. I got a tawse for Niall, which might be powerful enough to pull a grunt out of him. I look forward to the attempt. But this slapper of treated wood strips is perfect for you. Lift that beautiful ass of yours, like when you were begging for my cock. You hold it there until I say otherwise. I don’t want to hear a sound out of you.”

She complied, trembling, and when the first blow landed, she bit down hard to obey. Thin and flexible, the slapper stung like bees, and it smacked against her ass with a sound like a shot, increasing the reaction. The last time he’d punished her, it had been to chastise her only. He intended to goad her arousal with the pain this time, and with her current level of stimulation, she was simply swept away.

Thwack, thwack! He covered all the territory she’d exposed, and her muscles were trembling with the effort to hold her ass in the air, to hold completely still. She dug her fingers into her bonds, bit the mattress, tried not to scream into it, but before he was done, she was, trying to muffle the noise as best she could.

She was panting. When a few moments passed without further blows, she thought he was studying his handiwork, the marks on her buttocks. Was he hard? She imagined him opening the dark slacks he’d worn with his tuxedo, stroking himself over her, coming so that his seed splashed against her abused ass. She kept her hips lifted as he required, hoping for it.

He didn’t give her that, but something just as blissful. The heat of his breath, so close to her soaking wet folds. He didn’t touch her with his mouth. She just felt its proximity when he blew gently on her. A soft, continuous air flow moving over her clit and labia, a ripple of sensation that made her sob. “Please . . . Master . . .”

“Shhh. Be quiet.” He kept doing it, that tiny little current of air across her engorged clit until she would have given him anything to come. There was nothing in her mind but those sensations. Then he touched his lips to her clit, one solid pressure, and she was lost.

Stay still, but come for me, Alanna. Do it.

He pulled away, leaving her bereft, yet she would obey him no matter what. All it took was the thought, the echoes of those sensations still vibrating through her. Her empty pussy spasmed, taking her over the edge. She was unable to quell the involuntary, short pumps of her hips, but he was suddenly there, hands now on her hips, holding them up higher. She shrieked as he slammed his cock in deep, working inside her.

“Oh God . . . Master . . .”

“That’s my sweet, sweet servant,” he muttered, the strain in his voice sending a surge of triumph through her. She clenched her muscles over him, reveling in the slick, excruciating glide of his shaft inside her. That strained note became a groan of release, and she cried out with him, sharing that ecstasy as aftershocks shot through her with his seed.

She couldn’t ever imagine wanting anything more . . . but then she was proven wrong.

When he finished, he slid from her, slow and easy. She made a noise of loss and yearning that seemed to please him, for he tugged her hair, a partial caress. Her bonds were released, but only so the vampire could turn her over, restraining her spread eagle once again. It was decadent, her clothes in disarray but still on her body, as if he hadn’t the patience to rid her of them. His fingers caressed her thighs, teasing the lace tops of the stockings.

Then she made another noise of pure ecstasy as she smelled Niall, the scent of his aroused cock, a moment before it was pushing into her eager mouth. As he straddled her, testicles brushing her sternum, bare thighs around her shoulders, equally bare buttocks pressing against her breasts, she realized he was blissfully naked. The mattress shifted beneath her as Niall caught hold of the headboard.

“Yes . . .” She breathed it against his rigid flesh, sucking and working him as deep as she could, while Evan straddled her waist. Both men were over her body, and she loved it. She wished she could see them, but that wasn’t her job. She was here to keep Niall hard, to take him down her throat when Evan fucked him to climax.

The Scot gave a grunt as his Master took him, thrusting deep into his ass, such that their knees pressed harder into the bed on either side of her. Oh God . . . yes. Yes.

Your ass is as sweet to me as hers, neshama. Tighten against me. Come in her mouth. Let me feel what I can do to you. To both of you. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">