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"That was the message Butch was giving you also. Serve me, Quinn, and that service, the bond we share, will be more powerful than anything that comes against us. Before I came to Nightfall, I was running out of hope." Her eyes darkened, showing him the truth of it. "I thought I would be running from Laurent forever, which was just another form of bondage to him. Then I found After Hours and you."
Her lips twisted, at odds with the pain in her eyes, but he saw a fierceness in them as well. "You deserve every good thing, Quinn. But you got me instead. Tonight I realized I truly am all vampire now, because despite everything that happened, I won't give you up."
"I don't want you to," he said back, just as fierce. "You are every good thing to me."
She was right. Understanding that, immersing himself in that, the hold of the past horrible two days lessened. He took them back under again, another baptism, and once under, he put his mouth on hers, guided her legs back around him to roll them in the water, to take advantage of the movement to tease her with his ready cock, win a wiggle and squirm, a pinch that had him smiling against her lips as he brought them back up again. This time the smile felt more real, even if it was still an effort.
"To the shower," she said, and this time there was no doubt she meant right now.
He carried her to the cabin, dipping down to let her snag the overnight bag. Her gaze coursed over the clean, sparse furnishings, but they seemed to meet her approval. When he let her down, she took his hand and the bag and guided him to the shower. The water tank out here wasn't unlimited, but she didn't linger. That didn't mean she wasn't thorough. He found himself pushed up against the wall as she gently removed every bit of crusted blood with washcloth and soap.
"As we both get older, my blood will heal you faster, and your healing abilities will strengthen as well. But most of these are healing nicely."
"I just like hearing how we're going to get older." Together. He didn't mind if she used a scrub brush. As long as she was touching him, the discomfort of those wounds didn't matter at all.
Her lips brushed his shoulder. When she was done with all the areas Laurent had whipped, she turned her attention to cleaning other areas, just as thoroughly. Her fingers parted his buttocks, widening the opening between enough to employ the concentrated jet setting from the detachable shower head.
He was embarrassed, but another part of him felt a sense of relief so strong all he could do was dig his fingers into the wall as she washed whatever Laurent had used out of him. It no longer burned, but he was all too aware it made him slick. It had been lubrication for that vampire, not for his Mistress. She was having none of it. She washed him out, using her fingers with devilish intent, not only cleaning him but stimulating him to the point he was practically violating the wooden side of the shower stall.
"Mistress..."
"Yes, Quinn." Her voice was a satisfied purr. "Beg me for mercy."
"God...fuck." He couldn't think. He was going to come if she didn't stop. "Please, Mistress. I want...you."
"Then you better hold out. Hold every drop of that seed for my pussy."
Christ. She could force him over the edge, he knew it, but he fought with every ounce of control he had. When she finally took her fingers and the stimulating flow of the water away, he was hanging on by his fingernails.
"Turn around, reach up and hold the shower nozzle."
He wanted to turn around, hike her up under her arms, slam that petite body against the boards and fuck her like a mindless bull. But when he turned and met her gaze, he was already reaching up, his muscles tight with eagerness and his cock like a pile driver between his legs. She studied it, her tongue touching her lips. Fuck, he was going to come. His thighs trembled with the effort of holding back.
She cupped his ball sac, rolled it around in her palm while she let her other hand play in his chest hair, her nails scraping a nipple. Idly, she rubbed her thumb along the base of his cock.
"I could play with you all night like this, Quinn. Your body pleases me so much. I love all this hard muscle." Her hand drifted down over the ridges of his abdomen, then around to stroke a buttock, her fingers pushing in toward his rim again. He bucked toward her and she avoided the jut of his cock with a merciless chuckle, letting him go to give it a slap. Then she clamped her small fingers around it and squeezed, earning a groan from him. His fingers squeezed the shower nozzle to the point he was afraid he was going to pull it loose.
"Whose cock is this, Quinn?"
"Yours, Mistress."
"So no matter what Laurent made it do, you knew all along it belonged to me."
"Yes."
"So I'll punish you for spilling your seed without my express permission, and then it's over." Her gaze lifted up and met his, and all the things unsaid were there, the truth between them, waiting to scald him clean.
"Yes ma'am."
She nodded. Then she released him, and her fingers slid up his chest again. When she paused, he looked down.
Several of the strikes Laurent had given him with the cat were still prominent. A trio of staccato marks where he'd torn the flesh with those barbed tips, they looked like a blurred constellation on his flesh and seemed less resistant to the blood she'd given him to heal.
"He used the cat on you that he used on me," she said. "He hadn't cleaned it, had he?"
"No." Quinn's brow furrowed at her unreadable tone. "He said...the bastard said it still had your blood dried on it." His jaw clenched. "I wish Butch had killed him."
She kept looking at the marks, her fingers moving over them. "If a vampire wounds her servant, and then marks it with her own blood, it will create a scar. He didn't think of that." Her palm covered the marks, her fingers spreading over them protectively. Territorially. "These are my marks, Quinn. Marks that belong to me, like the man carrying them."
Shifting her attention to his arm, she let her fingers climb upward. She wasn't tall enough to reach her goal, but obeying the implicit command, he let go of the shower so she could clasp his wrist, bring the third mark she'd given him to her lips. As she cradled his hand against her breasts, her head bowed over it, she leaned up against him. He put his other arm around her, held tight.
"I love you, Mistress. Let me serve you. Please. I need to do this."
She lifted her head so they were eye to eye. "All right. Your punishment is to take me t
o bed, Quinn. Give me three climaxes before you allow your own release."
He'd do her one better than that. "I won't go over until you command it, no matter how many climaxes you want."
He scooped her up in his arms and left the shower. He wasn't waiting for them to dry off. Taking them to the bedroom on this level, no patience to go down to the cellar yet, he laid her wet body on the mattress and covered it with his own. Without any preamble, he spread her legs and thrust into her. He'd deliberately chosen the way it would be most difficult for him not to come, and God, she felt like heaven. He'd seen it in her mind, open to him now, that this was what she wanted first. Him on top of her, surrounding her, holding her, that rutting animal feel that she relished, knowing she was still in control.
She started to come within seconds, telling him how much she needed the feeling as well. He gritted his teeth, her pussy contracting on him. Laurent himself couldn't have devised a worse torment for him, but for her he'd suffer anything. Maybe third marks had better self-control, because he couldn't have imagined being able to hold out like this before that. As it was, it was a near thing, watching her body arch up, her wet breasts quivering, throat arched. He'd nourished himself from that throat to regain strength. She'd cared for him. He'd care for her now.
While she was still shuddering, he withdrew. Her nails raked his flesh, an irritable protest, but one he assuaged when he turned her over. Yes, she was strong enough to put him through walls, but he could also move her around like a pocket Venus. She gave him a narrow glance at the thought, but he promised her in his mind it would be worth it.
He slid some pillows under her to make her comfortable, and then he settled between her spread legs and went to work, mashing his cock hard against the bed to make it mind. In this position, he could not only slide his tongue over and around her flushed clit and swollen labia, but work his way up to her rim. Her cunt was still sensitive from her climax, but he knew how to get it worked up and juicy all over again. He concentrated on the delicate opening of her rectum, dipping his tongue inside as he kneaded her buttocks. Reaching under her, he gripped her breasts, started to massage and manipulate the nipples. He increased the strength of his grip to get rougher as she pushed her ass harder against his face, making little sexy noises that had his cock at painful rigidity.
