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He knew how to make it hurt, he'd been correct about that. He was slamming into her so forcefully, the impact held pleasure out of reach, but it was clear from his thickness stretching her that he was aroused to an animal level. That just goaded her own desires, despite her tumultuous thoughts. Yet abruptly he stopped, still holding her so close, inside her as deep as it was possible to go. With his grip on her ass he lifted her and began to knead, to slowly rotate her on his cock, sending spears of sensation through her.
It hurts, does it?
Her gaze flitted up to him, and now she saw a different look in his eyes.
"Say 'yes'," he prodded.
"Yes." Her throat had that odd ache again. Something...she needed something, the emotions unfolding in her exponentially. "I shouldn't have done that. Mark you like that. Without your permission."
No, you shouldn't have.
His gaze held her and she swallowed over that unfamiliar feeling. Or rather, one that used to be familiar, something she'd had to leave behind long ago. Regret.
I'm sorry.
SS
When she'd broken the chain in her agitation, everything sensible had told Garron he needed to jump back out of range, but he'd never been known for being sensible. Loyal, determined, and sure where the line passed from black to white, no matter how much grey fog lay over it. That was what he was known for.
He caught her hand, put it on his side. Her fingers pressed into his muscled bare flesh, nails digging into him, puncturing. He kept his hand over hers, let her feel him there.
"Mine, my lady," he said softly, holding her eyes. "You don't say no to me, do you?"
She was panting, her fangs curving over her bottom lip. The right one had cut a groove in her flesh and he leaned forward, brushing his mouth over it, tasting her blood. As he did, he gave her a firmer thrust. "Answer me."
"No. I don't...I can't..."
"You can do anything I give you permission to do."
"Garron...I want...I need...I..." Words failed her and her head dropped back, eyes squeezing shut. He cupped her head, brought it back up to look at him as he continued to move inside her. In and out, stroking those tissues, bringing her back toward the climax he wanted to inflict upon her, if he could hold out long enough himself. He'd never let go of control like that before, but he'd done it deliberately, showing her that he had as much of an animal nature as she did. Now he could take it down a notch, give her pleasure again, even as the energy vibrating between them remained volatile, unresolved.
He wouldn't let it deprive either of them. They were still on the roller coaster, and whether uphill or down, he wasn't letting up a bit. He inhaled her scent, a woman's musk, blood, fragrance. Her hair had a special aroma of its own, and he wanted to take it out of the braid, wrap it around himself. He wanted to put his face between her legs, bring her to climax that way, immerse himself in that scent as well.
"You'll do what I tell you to do. When it's like this, I'm in charge. Aren't I?"
Her eyes had that desperate light. She was so afraid. He could feel it inside her. It was as if she thought her life was literally in his hands, and she hadn't trusted anyone like that in so long...
He kept stroking until her muscles were clenching him on every stroke, her hand clawing into his side as the rest of her stayed in their bonds. He pushed her over the next climax, wondering if he was going to have blue balls before this was over, because he was determined not to come until he'd gotten them where he intended them both to go.
She arched and bounced, sinuous as a snake, and he gritted his teeth as she squeezed down on him in a way that showed she was mindful enough to be determined to make him come. He rewarded that bit of impertinence by pulling out when her pussy was still clutching down on him in aftershocks.
Kneeling, he went after her with his mouth, suckling away all the juices from her orgasm, wetting his finger with them and playing around her rim. He took advantage of her helpless state to tighten the chains, lift her legs higher in the air, readjusting the band beneath her head and shoulders so he didn't put her into a near head stand. It gave her physical comfort and him the position he wanted to continue to explore her as he wished. He wasn't giving her mind time to reset. Whenever it seemed her mind needed further focusing, he cracked the flat of his hand against her ass.
This was his element, and he was fully in the groove. He could make a woman beyond helpless in this room. He could take her to the point she'd lose control of her bodily functions, underscoring that he was in charge of everything, including her dignity, but the point wasn't humiliation, not for him. It was to prove she could trust him with all of that. He could break her down to the most primal, base form, and he would still cherish her, see all the treasure she had to offer him. He would kiss away a sub's tears, clean her up, hold her coiled and exhausted in his arms after multiple climaxes, multiple emotional breakthroughs where he took her through every childhood fear and insecurity and brought her out to the other side. He made her see her value and worth in his stern, approving gaze. When he held her after all that, knowing he genuinely held not only her life and body but her soul and heart in his grasp, he knew his purpose in life. To give her that gift.
All of that had been preparing him for this. He was sure of it.
She worked him hard, whether she knew it or not. He took her up to that peak again with his mouth, with the torment of his fingers. He pinched her ass several times, holding the clamp so she felt the pain, reacted to it in confused response as he kept licking her cunt, thrusting his tongue inside, mixing the pain and pleasure in ways that kept her from wrapping her mind around all of it.
Please...I can't take anymore. She may have said it aloud. In his position he couldn't have heard it, but in her mind he heard it loud and clear. He loved that, the ease of hearing her voice, but it didn't alter his attention on the most important thing. Her. Things were cracking inside. She was back at that precipice. He sensed...something, and he wanted to see how it played out, despite the shaking, broken note to her voice that twisted his heartstrings.
Pulling back from her, he gazed down at her body. At some point she'd caught hold of the loose broken chain with her free hand and had hung on to it as a way of restraining herself again. He wondered if she'd even realized she was using it that way, but he did for sure.
"Yeah, you can take more. Else you wouldn't still be able to talk or think that clearly. I've got plenty I plan to do to you, my lady. You think about that while I get the next phase ready."
Moving over to the counter and cabinets that held his supplies, he surveyed what was in front of him, cocking his head as if thinking about what he wanted to do next. He could feel her eyes on him, wondering. It only took a matter of seconds. Without his touch, without his voice, she began to shake, much as she'd done earlier. This time he was in her mind, so he saw the emotions go from simmer to boil in the face of his casual indifference, his deliberate decision to force her to confront her feelings and thoughts without distractions.
Garron. It was a thought, then a whisper, a child lost in the woods. "Garron."
He could hear her, inside and out, but he kept his head down. She craved that ultimate surrender, yes. But sometimes, before he could get a sub to what she really craved, he'd have to clear some debris off the field. Sometimes that debris was thick and high enough to make a landfill look small in comparison, but that was part of what had to be hurdled. What he saw in her head made it more than worth it, an obstacle past which a sweeping quest awaited, full of revelations, challenges and glory for the Master who embraced all that she was.
Not only could he hear her without strain, he could see inside her. Since that kind of sight didn't involve his eyes, he was seeing everything crystal clear. It was heaven. He could hear the emotions that wrapped themselves around the words like an illuminated script, full of color, emotion and artistry.
But as those colors turned to darker shades, he realized she was drawing too close to hell. He abandoned his won
der at the new sensations and went after her. He wasn't going to leave her there alone.
Disembodied voices, distorted shapes, then voices, memories, rising in a jumble. A grave, cold rain. Bloody battlefields. Soldiers wearing Union uniforms. Then in various stages of undress, lounging around a room, drinking, smoking cigars. One of them jamming a cigar on the inside of her thigh, since she was tied spread eagle to a bed. She'd already been well used by most of them, but they were nowhere near done...
"No." He was back to her, up against her as she thrashed. He pushed aside the kneejerk reaction to protect, to get her out of the bonds, to soothe, and looked for an anchor point beyond that, a key to get through to her mind. "Kaela. Kaela, ssshh." He held her twisting body. "Jared. Who is Jared? Stop. Tell me who Jared is."
He barked the order, brought her to a quivering halt. Repeated it in a more gentle voice. "Tell me who Jared is, my lady."
She'd gone so still, her fingers curled into claws.
I've killed other vampires. I've killed humans. It was necessary.
He kept stroking her hair. "I've killed, too, my lady. It was necessary, just. Even if it wasn't righteous. That's not what I asked. Tell me who Jared is."
As that quiver went through her again, her lovely eyes stared into his. She could ask to be released, but she hadn't. He was mindful of that, so again fought down his own desire to let her go. That horrible image had captured her mind, but Jared's name had broken its hold, so he said it again, like a safe word for both of them. "Jared. It's okay. Who is Jared?"
