Authors: Tracy St. John
Tags: #erotica, #paranormal, #bdsm, #bondage, #multiple partners, #spanking, #domination submission, #age play, #netherworld, #tracy st john
“The old drawbridge made way for that piece
of sculpture,” I noted, looking out at the Seymour Ladner with its
cable-stays that looked like ship sails.
“It’s beautiful.” He laughed, a
self-deprecating sound. “You know how you hear music when
Patricia’s body dies for the day?”
I swallowed a lump in my throat. The thought
of those few seconds of uplifting tones made me yearn for something
I couldn’t name. “Yes.”
“When I first got here, I swear I heard
something that made me think of how you described it. I was looking
out over all of this, thinking how perfect and serene it was. How
heavenly. I imagined a moment of the loveliest melody made of
instruments too ethereal to be real.”
“That’s exactly the kind of thing I hear
between being a vampire and being a ghost.”
“You don’t find sights too often that inspire
that kind of fantasy. It made me feel wonder and joy and a sadness
like being homesick all at once.” He shook his head. “It was an
amazing moment.”
Dan turned to me and enfolded me in his arms.
His look filled with tenderness. Gosh, he really loved me. In that
moment I knew it as sure as I knew my name was Brandilynn
Payson.
“Here’s another miraculous moment,” he said.
“My sweet girl is free of her nightly prison and I can hold her
again.”
If he hadn’t meant each word, I would have
groaned from the sappiness. There at the beginning of a new day, it
didn’t sound as cheesy as one would think. It sounded like poetry,
like a minstrel singing to his one true beloved.
I rewarded Dan with a kiss, pouring all my
unspoken adoration into it. For a split second I heard the music
again, just as he’d described it. It made me want to cry out in joy
and weep with the knowledge that I couldn’t reach it.
But I could have my rugged, gorgeous,
true-blue Marlboro Man. I wrapped my arms around his neck and clung
to him hard.
That haunting melody waned, replaced by the
solid support of the body against mine, of the arms holding me as
tightly as I held my lover. This was real. This was the dream. No,
it was better than a dream because it was us.
When Dan’s clothing disappeared beneath my
hands, I made mine go away as well. Flesh met flesh. Our souls
remembered the warmth of life, making us hot to the other’s
touch.
The softness of my breasts flattened against
the strong planes of Dan’s chest. His tongue twined with mine,
melding them in a sinuous dance. He tasted of boldness, of hunger,
of power. I melted against him. I molded myself to him. I gave
myself over.
As if in answer to my surrender, he grew more
demanding. He drew me hard against him. A calloused hand clutched
one buttock, kneading it with expert knowledge. The other hand
cupped the back of my head and slowly clutched, claiming a fistful
of hair. He pulled my head back into a position that satisfied him.
I clung to his shoulders, only wanting to do what pleased.
His cock grew swollen and fat, pressing
against my hairless mound, burrowing for its rightful place. My
pussy acknowledged its entitlement, turning wet in an instant. The
spirit manifestation that was left to me remembered its physical
past. My groin churned, a maelstrom of anticipation. My pulse
returned. My heart drummed as passion overtook us.
Dan plundered my mouth until my lips felt
swollen and bruised. When he ended the kiss, he looked into my
heavily lidded eyes and nodded as if pleased. His brown eyes were
dark and sharp. I lowered my gaze before their authority. I
succumbed to his power, the force of his dominating personality
taking my will away.
No words were needed. A tug from his hand in
my hair sent me drifting down to my knees before him. My hands
moved to the small of my back, the wrists crossing. My shoulders
went back to lift my breasts for my master’s visual pleasure. I
kept my eyes on his face as I opened my mouth to service him. I was
his to use in all the ways that made him feel good.
His silent dominion had me so on edge that I
nearly came when he entered my mouth. I love being made Dan’s.
There is no more powerful aphrodisiac than submitting to him.
I accepted his entire cock, gagging around
the length of him as he shoved down into my throat. I let tears of
effort stream from my eyes. He took me as was his right, the right
I had given him over me. He never spoke, but his gasps spoke
volumes. Even if he hadn’t returned to breathing, the musky flavor
of pre-cum dribbling against my tongue would have told me how well
I served him. I glowed with the elation of making him happy.
A few seconds after the pants turned to
moans, Dan pulled his jerking cock from my mouth. Taking a handful
of hair again, he pulled me to my feet. Then he pushed me against
the glass of the lighthouse’s window.
He looked me over. A peek revealed his gaze
settled on my breasts. I cast my eyes down again and moved my hands
from behind my back to lace behind my neck. My tits lifted, an
offering to my master.
Dan grasped my pointed nipples between
forefingers and thumbs. They were rigid and flushed from
excitement, but they swelled in response to his touch. He pinched,
sending delicious stabs of pain through the mounds. The pain
swirled into pleasure, beelining straight for my pussy. A tiny
sound escaped my lips.
He twisted, making an even more profoundly
sweet agony bloom. I cried out that time, coming up on my toes. Dan
held them like that a moment longer, letting me writhe under his
cruel teasing. Then he released them, leaving me gasping and tears
dripping from my eyelashes.
I’d no sooner settled back down on my heels
when his hands slapped the outsides of my breasts in turn. I
whimpered as he spanked the reddening mounds, fighting to hold
still as fiery heat consumed my chest. They bounced under his
chastisement, as if cheering being punished. I bit my lip as my
master continued his exacting but thrilling discipline, clenching
my fingers hard around each other behind my neck.
Offering my breasts for the penalty Dan had
deemed due was becoming effort when he stopped spanking them. I had
no opportunity to prepare myself when his hand dove between my
legs. I squealed as excitement speared my pussy. He found me
sopping wet, of course.
A soft grunt was his only comment on my loud
expression of desire. I bit my lips together to discourage more
unwanted noises. I spread my legs wide to give Dan complete access
to what belonged to him.
His palm slapped hard against my pussy.
Vibrant pain surged and instantly turned to exquisite pleasure.
Orgasm threatened for a moment, leaving me shaking. My knees tried
to buckle, and I braced myself against the glass at my back.
Dan was silent and watchful as I primed
myself for whatever came next. As soon as I went from earthquake to
tremor, his hard hand clapped against my most vulnerable bits
again.
This time my knees did unhinge, and I slid a
little ways down my support. Tears streamed down my cheeks as pain
and bliss brought me right to the verge of climax. A sob rolled up
my throat and trembled behind my clenched lips. I had been so close
that time. No doubt once more would send me over.
I slowly straightened back up. I drew a
steadying breath. I waited.
That wonderful, brutal hand smacked my pussy
again. This time I detonated, the exquisite sensation bolting
straight up my spine. I must have screamed. There is no way I
couldn’t have. I didn’t hear it though. All I knew was that
astounding sensation of agonizing ecstasy steamrolling through me,
making all else disappear.
When I came back to myself, my loins still
seized in bursts of aftershock, I discovered I had crumpled at
Dan’s feet. My gaze crawled up his magnificent chiseled body from
where I hunched. He looked momentous from my groveling vantage
point, his thighs as thick as sequoias, his torso blotting out the
sky, his shoulders broad enough to support the world. And at last
his dear face, set in somehow harmonious lines of strength, demand,
and adoration. He looked like a mighty god, inscrutable with firm
expectation but one who still loved those who disappointed him.
Dan stood there patiently, as if he had all
eternity to wait. I reached and grabbed hold of those gorgeous
legs, using them to haul myself to my feet. I became vertical using
my master as a ladder. My balance was shaky. Once upright, I fell
against Dan, unable to hold myself up.
His arms closed around me again. Kisses as
gentle as his hands had been harsh rained down on my upturned face.
He was pleased with me. My heart expanded with that knowledge.
After my reward, it was time for him to push
me again. Dan did so literally, shoving me back against the glass
of the lantern room again. This time he crowded against me, hooking
my legs so that they came off the ground, my thighs cradled in the
crooks of his elbows.
He was careful long enough to settle the
crown of his cock against the opening of my pussy. Then he ground
in, shoving with uncompromising force, taking me without mercy.
I made my entrance tight enough to offer
myself the lovely pain of a forceful claiming. My head fell back to
bang against the window as I cried out with pleasured hurt. Dan
grunted as he slammed deep inside.
I clung to his shoulders as he pounded hard,
my body dropping and lifting with his thrusts. Now my godlike
lover’s face was pure hunger, feeding himself with my body. He
crushed against me, his kiss devouring as he plunged in over and
over. Dan took my mouth with as much lust as he took my pussy,
claiming it all.
Passion rose anew, chewing up my insides and
demanding more. I had no way of escaping the ravening desire that
tore through me. I could only accept its brutal taking, trapped by
Dan’s insistent eagerness.
Then elation shot through me, blasting me
into the stratosphere. Dan’s cry rose with mine and we filled each
other’s throats with our voices. Our bodies jerked and fought and
thudded as we spent ourselves on each other. Then came sweet
floating bliss, celebrated by soft kisses and love words mumbled
against each other’s lips.
A sigh from my right broke our happy daze. We
looked over to find a gray-bearded man in a dark blue uniform of a
Victorian fashion standing there. The lighthouse keeper, just as
dead as us, chuckled and gave us a little salute.
Dan, much less given to public displays than
me, flushed red. “Oh, excuse us.”
The old man snickered and executed a little
bow. “No. Feel free to visit any time.” With a lecherous grin, he
vanished.
Dan looked at me. I looked at Dan. We burst
into laughter.
I finally got to tell Dan what had happened
between Ashley and me. It had been darned hard to have a decent
conversation at Tristan’s victory party, so I’d waited. He agreed
that keeping tabs on her husband Ryan was a good plan.
The card my sister had given me offered her
name, address, phone number, and email address. It didn’t matter. I
had known Ashley’s home address for a long time. I’d suffered
through the years as the society section of the local newspaper
traced important moments of her life: college graduation, wedding,
the birth of her son, contributions to the Garden Club and her
various charities. I tried to tell myself simple curiosity made me
read those articles a dozen times before angrily throwing them out.
But the truth was, I’d missed her. Despite the hurt of her
abandonment, I’d wanted to cling to the threads of the girl who had
been my best friend until I’d had enough of my worth being dictated
by how well I followed my parents’ orders.
To transport to a place instantaneously, I
have to know the area. That was no more a problem than knowing
Ashley’s location. She lived down the street from my parents’
house, in a subdivision on Hamilton Island known for its immaculate
yards and insane price tags. It was not the kind of place you’d
find a shifter living. Even well-to-do weres find themselves
snubbed in certain places.
Sure enough, when I showed up in front of the
Warner residence I saw a ‘For Sale’ sign on the lush green lawn.
Despite expecting to find that very thing, I fumed. As I’d gotten
away from the thoughtless bigotry I’d been infected with when among
the living, I felt more and more violently opposed to it. I had a
crazy urge to make bad things happen to my sister’s neighbors. A
broken window here, a few flowers torn out there ... yeah,
destruction of property felt like a good way to vent my anger.
Taking temptation firmly in hand, I abandoned
fantasies of wreaking havoc. I walked past the stately Lincoln in
the curved drive and went into the lovely two-story Tudor, passing
through the glass-paneled front door. I found myself in a nice
foyer with earth-tone tiles underfoot. The dark red painted walls
were elegant with the white trim of the doorways leading into other
rooms and the railing of the oak staircase. It was classy without
pretention, the walls adorned with black-matted family photos.
I would have loved to explore my sister’s
house, but it felt kind of rude to poke around like some stalker.
It was bad enough I planned to spy on Ryan Warner. Hearing voices
from the back of the house, I moved in that direction.
I passed an elegant living room, a sparse but
functional home office, and a fancy dining room. The sounds of
conversation led me into the kitchen with blameless white
cabinetry, gray tiled floor, and stainless steel appliances. On the
other side of a two-tiered kitchen island with a cooktop and space
for people to sit and eat was a breakfast nook. That’s where my
sister’s son and husband sat, chatting over bowls of cereal.
With his copper-colored hair, cute button
nose, blue eyes, and full bow lips, five-year-old Jesse was
definitely Ashley’s boy. His voice had the sweet childish ring
designed to melt hearts of cheek-pinching little old ladies. “Will
they play with me at my new school? All my friends at Hamilton
Elementary stopped playing with me.”