His Captive Mortal (13 page)

“Stand up and turn around, Sasha,” Charlie ordered, his voice thick. His hand caught under her arm to help her and she remembered scoffing at the idea of him being chivalrous. She’d been wrong. He turned her around and guided her to the end of his bed, where he pushed her torso down. “Are you ready for me to fuck you?”

“Yes, master,” she breathed. Every nerve ending in her pussy tingled, electrified and waiting for his touch. She groaned when he pressed the head of his cock to her opening, the mixture of soft and hard something no fingers or dildo could ever replicate.

He slid into her tight channel, her natural lubricant so plentiful she hardly felt the stretching. Or perhaps it was the distraction of the toy in her ass. All she knew was she wanted it all and more. She wanted to be fucked hard, used, wholly taken by him.

“Please,” she whimpered when he moved too slowly.

He chuckled. “I set the pace, little girl. And you don’t come until I let you. Understand?”

“Yes, master.”

Despite his words, he did pick up the pace, stroking in and out, caressing her pussy with his cock, pushing his pelvis against the handle of the butt plug every time he plunged in.

She trembled, her legs scarcely holding her, her need growing to a fever pitch. She lost track of her surroundings, everything shrinking to the feel of his length moving inside her, the way her very cells seemed like they would explode if she didn’t find release.

“Oh Charlie,” she whimpered, rolling her face in the covers, biting at the luxurious fabric. “Charlie, please let me come. Please, please, please.”

“You’re so adorable when you beg,” he said, gripping her hips and slamming into her so hard she thought she’d split in two. Over and over he thrust, pounding her inner walls as his balls slapped her clit and the plug fucked her ass.

“Charlie?” she cried, certain she could not take one more second.

“Now, Sasha,” he growled.

Her orgasm exploded the second he gave her permission, just as stars splintered before her blackened vision. Wave after wave of ecstasy rolled through her, contracting her core, sending corresponding tremors down her inner thighs to the soles of her feet.

She held her breath, nearly passing out from the tsunami of pleasure.

When it released her from its grip, she panted, collapsed over his bed. She blinked to regain her vision and her bearings.

Charlie eased the plug from her ass and lifted her into the air, placing her gently on her back. As reality returned, she saw the cords standing out in his neck, the pain in his face as he crawled over her. A pang of guilt struck for having enjoyed her release so thoroughly when he never could.

She stroked the side of his face, but he jerked it away, impatient with her pity. He pushed his hard length between her legs and she opened for him, despite her soreness. He moved inside her, neither rough nor gentle, but with a grim determination, as if he would fuck her all night just in case the curse might dissolve.

She brought her focus to it, imagined drawing the blockage out.

Charlie rested on his forearms, his head hanging over her shoulder, his breath labored in her ear. He began to groan as if in pain and the muscles of his low belly jerked.

Without warning, his fangs struck her neck. She screamed in surprise, shoving him away and convulsing beneath him. He brought a hand to her cheek, stroking it with his thumb as if to calm her, as he continued to pump his cock inside her and suckle.

“No,” she sobbed. “Get off me. Stop it!”

He sucked for a few more seconds, then licked her wound closed with long slow laps as if she weren’t struggling beneath him.

The moment he released her, she scrambled to her feet, anger burning hot. “What the fuck was that?” she demanded.

Charlie climbed off the bed as well, looking tired, his cock still waving horizontally with unspent passion. “I didn’t mean to do that,” he said, sounding defeated, “but is it really that big a deal?”

“Yes, it’s a big deal! I need my blood. I didn’t want it sucked. You knew that and you did it anyway.”

He stabbed his fingers through his hair. “Did it hurt? Are you light-headed?”

“No, but you had no right. I didn’t want to be bit!”

He blew out his breath, his face turning stony. He pulled on his clothes.

“Where are you going?” she demanded, panic welling as she realized he was about to pull his disappearing act. “Don’t you dare leave me here—”

He was gone.

“Dammit!” she screamed.

And then he reappeared, as if he had heard her screaming at him. He strode purposefully toward her and her heart thundered.

What would he do?

He wrapped an arm around her waist and for one glorious moment, she thought everything would be all right, but then her body yanked back, cells splitting and reforming and they stood in her living room.

And Charlie vanished once more.

Damn it all. He had only come back to deposit her back in her own house. She supposed she ought to be grateful he’d been that thoughtful. He could have left her to find her way back in the dark with no clothing but the corset and stockings.

But no. Fuck. This. She stomped to her bedroom and pulled on a pair of jeans and t-shirt. He didn’t get to run out on her every time things got difficult. If he was mad at her, he needed to stay and tell her about it.

She put on her sneakers and grabbed her keys, marching out the door. He’d said he liked to go downtown—she’d find him there.

The idea that he might be angry with her gnawed at her and something tickling the back of her mind surfaced: the color in his face had looked different after he’d bitten her. He’d been so pale when she tried to wake him and...hadn’t he said he was hungry?

Her belly twisted into a knot of guilt. Why had she freaked out on him, anyway? He’d been right, it hadn’t hurt and she experienced no after-effects, so he hadn’t taken too much. Maybe he had really needed to feed. Or maybe it was his substitute for orgasm, and when she’d denied him that it was like adding insult to injury.

She walked briskly downtown, looking for any sign of him. When she saw none, she headed to The Black Cat. She walked in, nervous about entering the bar alone. Without thinking, she threw up her bubble of protection, her trigger reaction to being nervous.

Three heads in the back whipped around to stare at her and her blood turned cold.

Vampires.

And Charlie had been right. They certainly looked more unsavory than he. She glanced right and left, scanning the crowd quickly for any sign of him. She backed toward the door, trying not to look scared. No sign of Charlie, and the vampires had stood up and were sauntering toward her. She scanned the bar one last time and turned, walking swiftly out.

A vampire appeared directly in front of her, blocking her path.

Blue-balling it never failed to put him in a foul mood. He tried to shake himself out of it, but the darkness kept creeping back.

The scene back there with Sasha had reminded him too much of Anka. Why he’d thought she was different—or any woman was different, for that matter—eluded him. Love was not a genuine concept. People—and vampires—are selfish creatures. In the end, everyone just looks out for him or herself. He’d been stupid to offer her pleasure without being able to receive his own, stupid to think she would reciprocate with the one thing he needed from her.

He stopped and rubbed his face.

No. She wasn’t like Anka. Sasha had been scared and she always lashed out when afraid. He normally liked that about her—enjoyed her pluck in the face of adversity. And she was right about him disappearing every time things made him uncomfortable. But if he had stayed, he would have said some of the stupid things he’d been thinking, and that would have hurt her.

And despite his assertion of selfishness, he couldn’t stand to see her hurt. Even as he’d traced away, her pain had tripped him.

He walked downtown, the stars and fresh air soothing his frayed nerves. Something made him stop and listen. Not a sound, more a feeling: fear. And not his own.

Sasha.

He’d had her blood and now that his own emotions had calmed, he sensed hers. Something was wrong. Before he could move, a scream split the air, sounding just a few blocks away. He traced to the alleyway behind The Black Cat just as another scream sounded. His blood turned cold when he saw the scene: Sasha, immobilized through a glamour, her head tilted back to expose her throat, the vampire Abe Fenman and his two cronies leaning over her as she screamed.

“Looks like she’s already been bitten tonight,” Abe remarked just before Charlie traced behind him and yanked him back.

The fight that began at once came at vampire speed, bodies tracing and reforming, blows violent enough to crack bones. Three against one made it difficult, but the rage inside him made him forget all concern for himself. He had to get to Sasha to disable the glamour that had her frozen and vulnerable. He twisted and kicked the wiry vampire named Andre, but took a hard blow to the gut from Abe and the third vampire slashed at his throat with a broken bottle.

The glass caught the tendon between his neck and shoulder, missing his vital artery. He caught Sasha’s face in his hands, taking the few seconds necessary to release her from the glamour. “Bubble up, make no eye contact. Run as fast as you can.”

The distraction cost him, as the three undead attacked at once, one held his arms back as the others kicked and punched his gut. He kicked the body in front of him in the gut and brought the back of his head back to bash the nose of his captor.

Sasha had made a bubble, but she didn’t move; she stood staring in horror.

“Run!” he bellowed, wishing he’d used a glamour on her to enforce her obedience.

His attention on her caused the vampires to adjust their focus, one of them turning to her while the other two continued to fight him.

The broken glass slashed his forearm, but he tackled Andre to the pavement and bashed his head repeatedly against the asphalt.

“Charlie!”

Sasha’s scream made him jerk his head up in time to see her hurling a ball of light squarely in Abe’s face, the furious vampire lunging with a roar.

He flashed between them, caught Sasha up around the waist and tried to trace, but he couldn’t focus. Abe’s fangs bit into his back, ripping toward his shoulder.

Sasha threw a bubble of protection around both of them and the vampire fell back.

Charlie closed his eyes and calmed himself, picturing Sasha’s living room as he pulled her into the ether.

“What the hell were you doing?” he roared, the moment they arrived. He unbuttoned her jeans and yanked them down along with her panties. He began spanking her, standing up. “First of all, I told you I didn’t want you walking around alone at night. Secondly, I told you to use your bubble and run.” He picked her up and carried her to the sofa, where he sat and arranged her across his lap, adjusting her ass to the perfect position for discipline. “When I give you an order, I expect you to obey it, especially when it’s for your own damn safety!” he continued his tirade, spanking her bouncing bottom at a rapid pace.

She lay still for it, not kicking or fighting him, as if she thought she deserved the paddling.

He spanked on, leaving the imprint of his fingers in pink on her flesh. “Why didn’t you go when I told you to?” he demanded.

“I wasn’t going to leave you!”

He spanked a little harder. “I am a vampire, love. Immortal. My wounds heal unless I am decapitated or I bleed out. You, my dear fairy, are not. And those vampires wanted to drain you for your power. I warned you of that.”

The salty smell of tears reached him and he froze, his hand arrested in midair.

Oh hell.

Had he spanked too hard? His eyes took a swift scan over her form. Her buttocks were reddened, but not blistered or displaying the mottled color that promises a bruise. Her back—oh gods—her back shook with sobs. A wave of her emotion rolled over him—regret? Despair?

He pulled up her pants and rolled her up to cradle in his arms.  She burrowed against him, clinging to his neck and nestling her head into his chest. He brushed her tears away as he stroked her back. “Shh, love. It’s all over now. You’re forgiven. Did I scare you?”

She shook her head, pulling back to look at him, tears still spilling out of her eyes and streaming down her cheeks. She shocked him by slapping her hand against his sternum. “You walked away again!” She struck her palm again. “You always just disappear and I’m left trying to figure out what I did wrong and how to fix it.” She smacked his chest again and again, saying, “I don’t. Want. You. To leave.”

He caught her two wrists and held them in one hand against his chest. “Okay,” he whispered hoarsely, her distress shaking him. He thumbed away another tear and tried to tuck her head back into him, but she pulled her head free.

She seemed to gather herself. “I’m sorry I was a bitch about the blood,” she said, looking up with brave humility.

He gave a short bark of surprised laughter, not expecting such an apology. “You weren’t a bitch,” he said, all his previous irritation dissolving.

“Yes, I was. You needed it, didn’t you?”

He nodded, once, not liking to admit any weakness, even to her.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why hadn’t you fed?”

He drew a breath. “I guess I’m just a one-woman kind of man.” He shrugged. “I always have been.”

She blinked up at him, the gold flecks in her eyes shimmering. “Do you mean…” she trailed off, looking uncertain. “Because it’s sexual?”

“Yes. I’ve only wanted your blood since the night I first met you.”

“And I refused to give it to you,” she said, her voice soft with regret.

He stroked her hair back from her face and put a finger under her chin to bring her gaze back to his face. “You were just scared.”

She swallowed and nodded. “I’m not anymore. I’m yours to take as you please.”

Her words went straight to his cock. He cradled her head and laid a soft kiss on her lips. “I’ve been telling you that since the day we met.”

She twined her arms around his neck and started to bury her face in his shoulder, then jerked back with a gasp. “Oh my God,” she said.