Entranced: Spellbound (Book Three)
Read Entranced: Spellbound (Book Three) Online
Authors: Trinity Night
Entranced:
Spellbound
(Book Three)
By
Trinity Night
Velvet Sky Publishing
***
Copyright © 2013 by Trinity Night
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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www.trinitynight.com
Spellbound Series
Table of Contents
I dipped m
y toes into the gleaming silver-blue water. It was warm. The white sand beneath my feet sunk between my toes. I pinched the brim of the wide straw hat and smiled. Sun kissed my toned body, and I stepped gingerly out toward my lover. Alexi tore through the still water like a hurricane. His lean muscled shoulders rippled under his many arcane tattoos, and his long black curls were slicked back, wet and dripping down his neck.
The day was warm and full of promise. We'd woken that morning in a luxurious
spa resort suite overlooking the sea on the Crimean Peninsula. The all-day drive to get there, paid off in the most comfortable bed I'd slept in, in a month. We ate breakfast in our room, wearing white fluffy bathrobes. And I bathed in a huge Jacuzzi tub in the massive suite bathroom. Things were looking up. The calluses on my hands had stopped bleeding, and my stomach was full. I tried to push the thoughts of the dingy little shack out of my mind like it was a bad dream. This was my life for today— five-star resorts, Alexi by my side, delicious food, and a Jacuzzi bathtub.
Alexi had been boyish and
lively all morning. He loved this part of the country because of its promise of leisure and frivolity-- something his youth had sorely lacked. Something left over from his hard childhood made him a workaholic by nature. And he was the kind of man to play just as hard.
“
Come!” Alexi beckoned from the water, waving his strong arm toward me. I giggled and flung the hat aside, bounding toward him. When I reached him, he enfolded me in his arms, covering my mouth with a kiss before pulling me down under water. I had barely enough time to gasp for air before we crashed into the salty sea. He twisted me like a crocodile twists its kill, pushing his body into mine, so I could feel him strong and hard against me. Finally, he let me emerge from the drink, gasping for breath.
“
You nearly drowned me!” I chided, wiping my eyes and heaving.
“
You are never in danger in my arms, my Darling,” he said holding me and kissing away the irritation in my veins.
I smiled up at him, water running down my face,
and I rapped my arms around his shoulders. He pulled me into his body and kissed my neck. I let my head fall backwards. My hair fell down my arched back as he nuzzled me. I could feel him rising between her legs below his Speedo. I wanted him, wanted to feel him deep inside the most secret parts of my body and soul, but now was not the time.
“
We can’t make love on this crowded beach,” I whispered into his ear.
“
Why not,” he said, gripping me more tightly and biting my neck.
“
Won’t we be arrested?” I could feel panic rise as he moved his hand under the water, probing for my pussy. I didn’t want to end up in a Ukrainian prison for indecent exposure and public sex. My parents would be livid. I’d never hear the end of it, and it would definitely put an end to my summer plans.
“
Perhaps you are right, Lyubimaya,” he released me and dove into the deep sea. “Come!” he yelled.
I dove after him, kicking my legs and pumping my arms to try
to catch up. He was fast, but I was as fit as he was. He was a body length ahead of me, and I strained to overtake him. The competitive spark inside me strained to catch him— to swim past him to whatever mark meant the finish line. But he was too strong a swimmer for me. This was his land, his sea. He barreled forward leaving me further and further behind. When he saw how far back I had fallen, he stopped and swam back to me.
“
Oh, my Darling,” he said as we treaded water, “You almost had me. I was sure you would win.” He kissed my cheek, and we slowly swam back to shore, side-by-side.
When we reached the
beach, I retrieved my discarded hat and replaced it on my head. We had a sun umbrella set up with beach chairs and blankets at a prime spot on the sun baked shore. We toweled off and relaxed into the chairs. Alexi opened a picnic basket and arranged a feast on the blankets in front of us. Baguette, Italian cheeses, grapes and chilled white wine from the cooler, cured meats and stuffed mushrooms. I dug into the food, eating greedily.
It was a delicious banquet compared to what I had been eating
— my own cooking over an electric range in the rustic cottage where I lived. After a week of living with flickering, low electricity, no running water, and going in an outhouse, I was extremely grateful for all modern conveniences.
Alexi promised to take me
on vacation to Crimea and bathe me in luxury. He was as good as his word, but I dreaded the idea of going back to the cottage. If he insisted I go back without him, rather than staying at his flat in the city, I might have to keep my threat of going home to Seattle— even though I loathed the idea of giving my mother the satisfaction. There were just some things I couldn’t live with, or without.
I was fa
lling hard for Alexi. His Transylvanian Lord looks made me weak in the knees, and my heart was captivated by the intensity of our love making. I wanted to be with him, to love him, to know him, to be part of his world, and understand the depth of his passion. But I couldn’t be his sex serf alone in a cottage in a village from the middle ages. It was just too humiliating, and frankly, too hard for my modern sensibilities to come to terms with. There was also still the question of the strange metal box full of occult objects and a Russian woman’s passport from 1982. He had mentioned his mother was from Russia. Was it her? Was it someone else? What happened to that woman?
Alexi held a grape to my mouth, and I bit into it savagely, baring my teeth and smiling i
nto his gleaming blue eyes. He made the most primal core of my being come out to play. I relished it. If only we could spend all our time in this way— playing on the beach together, eating good food, drinking expensive wine. But Alexi was always busy, dealing with some business situation or another. I knew his work was important, but did he have to leave me alone in the cottage while he did it?
My long
dark-blonde hair blew in my face from a slight breeze, and I brushed it aside. I felt fantastic just then— together with Alexi on the warm beach, my stomach full of food, not a care in the world. I leaned back on the beach chair and breathed deeply, closing my eyes. Alexi ran a finger down my warm body, between my breasts, tugging gently at my new string bikini, and down between my legs. I took a deep breath and ignored the fact that we were surrounded by a beach full of strangers. He tickled my pussy over the top of my swimsuit and withdrew his hand. I opened an eye lid and regarded him as he leaned back in his chair. His muscled relaxed as sipped his wine.
“
Tomorrow we will tour the castles of Crimea. There are several I want to show you. Until then, there is a spa here at the resort. You can have anything you want,” he said, absently sipping his wine.
“
Mmmmm…” I breathed, “That sounds so fantastic, Alexi. You have no idea. I could really use a manicure and a massage.” I might be strong and fit, and I might have survived a week in his cottage, but I was really a rich girl at heart. I was learning the extent of my strength, and I was learning how far I could push myself. I was learning to use and control the competitive streak that lived inside of me, but I was still a creature of comfort. My poor callused hands and sore muscles could use some TLC.
Alexi took me back to the resort and left me to the s
pa attendants to answer to my beck-and-call. Most of the resort staff spoke English, so that made things much easier. First, I had a shower to remove the salt and sea from my hair and skin.
After the shower, I was
led into a massage room where I endured an hour of full body Swedish massage. My pour tired muscled screamed in satisfaction. I was drifting into heaven by the time it was over, wishing Alexi was there to give me a happy ending. But he was not. He had left me to the spa pampering as he had left me to work in the field. I sighed inwardly. At least this was better than breaking my back under the sun.
I donned a fluffy white bathrobe and went to have my mani-pedi in a perfumed room while sitting in a gently vibratin
g massage chair. I chose silver-black polish to match Alexi’s chrome and black style. After the mani-pedi, I had a facial and had my hair done.
That morning consisted of the most spa pampering I'd ever received. While I went to have my hair and nails done with my mother once in a while, it was never really my thing. I spent most of my
spare-time working out or secretly painting. My rebel heart tried to conceal itself under my mother's insistent feminization whenever possible, and I hated it.
But that day, I loved every minute of the spa treatment. My hair looked fantastic. It was expertly layered, adding volume and lift
to my long, dark-blonde locks. I was getting a full makeover to show Alexi just how sophisticated and mature I could look.
Just when I thought I couldn
’t get any more pampered, a concierge arrived with a credit card, telling me Alexi sent it for me to go shopping at the local boutiques for anything I wanted. Spare no expense, the concierge told me. A chauffeured car waited for me outside the spa. I wore a short white sun dress, and silver sandals. It looked good against my nail polish and tanned skin.
The
chauffeur took me to the Grand Voyage shopping center, credit card in hand. After the poverty I’d seen throughout the country side, to be confronted with the upscale boutiques threw me off. I felt small and confused for a moment. Not knowing what to do or what to buy. Would these people even understand my language? But I quickly regained my composer and upper middle-class, American attitude. Money talks.
Just as the last week had been a dream from another century, I now dreamed in luxurious Technicolor.
I walked into the first boutique and began to fashion myself into an upscale Ukrainian woman. My nondescript hipster Seattle girl style didn’t exactly blend with the way even average Ukrainian women dressed. It was a different world here. The infrastructure was cracking and decayed, but people walked the street, stone faced, wearing designer fashions everywhere you turned. It definitely wasn't a Northface and Converse kind of culture.
I bought myself designer jeans, silky sun dresses,
lingerie, sport clothes, tailored jackets, chic evening dresses, designer sunglasses, a new bag of soft black leather, sandals, and red bottomed pumps in black and nude. I didn't even pay attention to the cash register. It all seemed like a hypnotic haze.
Just buy what you want
, I told myself.
I was overflowing with bags when I saw Alexi standing in the crowded concourse staring at me. I felt a flash of guilt for my consumerism, and suddenly wanted to put it all back. I might be a rich girl, but my biggest passion
was museum walking, not shopping. I mean, what woman doesn’t like a new dress, but I wasn’t the kind of girl who thought shopping was a super power.
“
Hi,” I said, approaching him, my face blushing.
“
I see you have been working hard.”
“
I… Thanks for this. I rarely shop like this. I just…”
He waved his hand in front of me to cut me off. “
I love your shopping, Lyubimaya. What good is money if you can’t use it to spoil a woman.”
“
Thanks,” was all I could say. I was relieved he didn't judge me or call me a Capitalist again.
He took my bags and I followed him back to the Range Rover we had driven to Crimea in.
We arrived at our resort late in the night, and I fell asleep almost immediately with Alexi warm beside me. In the weeks we had been together, we had only spent a handful of nights in the same bed. Waking up in his arms, in the luxurious resort suite had been one of the best mornings of my life. I adored him, the way he stood at the window with the light glowing behind his tan, toned body, casting a halo around his curling black hair.
We got in the Range Rover and drove back to the resort. He had dinner planned for us in the
five-star restaurant at the resort. My mouth watered just thinking about it. When we got back to the suite, with its fine modern furniture, we dressed and met in the living room and inspected each other. Alexi wore one of his tailored Armani suits. This one was black with a hint of purple, highlighting the blue of his eyes. I wore a short, strapless cream dress covered in intricate bead work that hugged my curves and accentuated my tan skin. I wore my hair up in a tight bun that showed off my high cheekbones. Alexi looked at me as if he was pleased. He took my hand, placed it in the crook of his elbow, and escorted me into the hallway. We walked into the restaurant and were taken to our table by a large window that overlooked the water. The sun was falling into night, dipping into the western sea. The colors were dazzling and beautiful, and my heart leapt with pure joy.
The waiter poured
us fine wine, and we gently clinked glasses, gazing into each other’s eyes. We ate five courses, each more delicious than the last. The chef was French and so was the food. We ended with a delicate chocolate mousse with raspberry sauce that completely blew my mind. The flavor exploded on my tongue and for a moment I wondered if it was possibly better than sex, even with Alexi. But he caressed my hand, sending a shockwave up my arm and down my body toward my tender darkness, and I knew that nothing compared to sex with Alexi— not even chocolate mousse with raspberry sauce.
As if reading my mind, he took my hand and guided me out of the restaurant toward the lobby and then to our room. Night was dark beyond the tall
windows, and lights reflected on the shimmering water. I felt like a bride on her honeymoon. I felt like a billionaire heiress on holiday. Alexi’s hand was warm in mine, and the sensation of his solid, strong body next to mine felt like the definition of safety. All thoughts of the metal box were gone. All thoughts of the week at the cottage were erased. I loved him. A tear welled in my eye as he drew me into our suite. This was the most perfect day I had ever had in my life. I never wanted it to end.
He closed the door behind me and put his arms
around my waist, spreading his legs slightly as he looked down on me and smiled. His eyes sparkled with hidden knowledge, and he kissed me. I smelled his deep spicy scent, and the promise of the exotic pleasures he induced in me. My breasts and pussy tingled and slowly began to throb. His arms reached around and pulled the zipper on my dress, and it grew slack around my breasts and fell to the ground.
I stood in a cream lace
, strapless bra, g-string, and black pumps. He drew back to look at me, moving around my body to inspect me from all angles. I followed him with my eyes, feeling flush with pleasure and embarrassment. He made a low grunting sound in the back of his throat and guided me to the bed where I laid back and luxuriated, waiting for him to take me.
He lit the candles
throughout the room and slowly removed his clothing as I watched. He set his cufflinks on the counter and unbuttoned his shirt revealing the black and red arcane tattoos that covered his torso and arms. I spotted new tattoos that ran down his thigh as he removed his pants. He stood before me in his black underwear staring down at my ripe body.
One hand tenderly caressed the skin of my cheek before he climbed on top of me, holding his chest up with his arms staring deep into my eyes.
His erection pressed firmly into the crevice between my legs. Then his mouth was on my neck; his hips rocked into my tender flesh. He let his weight fall into me, and I clung to him. He ran his hands over my skin, kissing my stomach, removing my panties and bra. I lay naked before him, my head gently held in a downy pillow.
He slipped out of his
underwear. His cock was huge and hard, ready for me. I gasped when I saw it, at the memory of all the ways he used it on me. He grunted low in his throat and was on me again. This time, his face was deep in my pussy, sucking, licking, flicking my clit with his tongue. I gripped the bed sheets and gasped. The vigor with which he ate my cunt, sent me into sensuous hysterics. The room began to spin, and my body became rigid with lust.
He held my legs wide open
, and I was sopping wet with saliva and my own juices. Just as I was about to come from his tongue, he thrust his cock in me, and I exploded into orgasmic rage. My newly manicured fingernails ripped down his back, and he growled at me as he pumped into my thighs. The sound of flesh smacking flesh filled the air in time with my rhythmic moans.
He turned me over so I was astride him. My hands gripped his shoulders as h
e pumped me from below. My bouncing breasts added to the sensuous assault on my consciousness. Waves of pleasure crashed over me. I was in a delirium, looking down at his handsome face, his piercing blue eyes. He placed me on my stomach and entered me from behind. I was prone upon the bed, my legs straight and relaxed and close together. He worked my pussy with his whole body, tickling the entrance of my dark hole with the tips of his fingers.
Then he pulled me back on my hands and knees, gripping my breas
t as her rocked his cock inside me. I was breathless, senseless, coming over and over. He fucked me for what seemed like hours in every position I could imagine.
I was
spent. I felt I had run a fuck marathon. Finally, with my exhausted body sprawled out on my back, and my arms and legs relaxed against the bed. He pushed into me one last time with a quaking orgasm. We were both sweaty and spent and lay against the bed, catching our breaths. When my heart rate was finally normal, I rolled into the crook of his shoulder and nestled my head there. He kissed my forehead and said, “Ya lyublyu tebya, Lyubimaya.”
“
What does that mean,” I said tracing the outline of a tattoo with my finger tip.
“
It means, I love you, my Sweet Darling.”
“
Oh Alexi, I love you too.” I climbed up to kiss his mouth. A tear welled in my eye. Why did my love feel like pain? It was all so overwhelming, so unreal, so unknowable. The tear fell on his cheek, and he wiped it away, looking into my eyes.
“
Why do you weep, Lyubimaya? Aren’t you happy?”
“
Yes, this has been probably the best day of my life. I just don’t know what to do with it, or where to put it in my head, or in my heart.”
“
Don’t worry, my Darling. I will take care of everything, and you will know more than you have ever known, see more than you have ever seen. And I will show it to you."