Nightfall (41 page)

“Yes, you do,” she murmured, though there was a catch in her
voice. “Come bathe with me.”

There was enough of a moon on the water to give them light,
to give him the pleasure of seeing it limn her skin. She undressed first,
unpinning her hair so it fell down her back, the blonde strands silver in the
moonlight. She wore only a simple dress that clung to her curves. She stripped
it off, unhooked her bra, shimmied out of panties, and then came to him wearing
only her shoes, some form of heeled slipper that protected her feet. She pushed
him back down to the ground with a smile, one that didn’t dilute the emotions
in her gaze as she studied him. Turning, she gave him a mouthwatering view as
she straddled his one leg, removed his boot, then did the other. When she faced
him again, standing over him, he lifted a hand toward her, pausing to meet her
gaze.

“You may touch me, Quinn,” she said, that hitch in her voice
again, her reaction to his waiting for the permission. Needing it.

Laying his fingertips on her bare thigh, he caressed her
skin, sliding up to trace the crease between thigh and sex. He passed his touch
lightly over her mound, again just for the pleasure of touching perfection. Of
touching his Mistress.

“Jeans off,” she said, her eyes luminous.

He obeyed, though he had to get up to do it and he winced in
relief as the waistband’s hold eased from his sensitive skin, as he peeled the
denim off his ass. He was so tired. Heartsick and tired, but the quiet around
them, her presence with him, all of it gave him hope that it would be all
right. That Dix’s words would be true, that each day was a new beginning, a new
slate to do it right. Learn and grow. And love her even better than he had the
day before.

“Oh Quinn.” She reached up, cupped his jaw. Lifting up on
her toes, she pressed her mouth to his, a slow, seeking kiss that had her
leaning fully into his naked body. It inspired his formerly numb arms to slide
around her, then tighten like a vise, as if he could hold her so close she’d be
inside him. The kiss became deeper, needier, and she made a pleasurable sound
in her throat. He felt her desire unfurl, felt his abused cock miraculously
come to life, and not because of that goddamn ointment. It hardened against the
press of her thighs, responding to what she demanded of him. Responding to
her.

He’d damn well find the strength in the rest of his body to
do what he wanted to do for her. For them both. “Take off your shoes,” he
muttered against her mouth.

“Giving orders,” she teased gently, but she slipped out of
them. Bending, he lifted her, and found he could do that. He could carry her,
and the ability to do that much was a small, precious victory. Praying his
knees wouldn’t buckle and he didn’t step on anything that would spear his foot
and make him scream like a girl, he moved down to the watering hole.

The water still held the heat of the day, but was cool
enough to be pleasurable. He slid into the depths, letting her legs go so she
could twine them around his waist as he moved them toward the middle where it
was deep enough it came up to his shoulders. He’d never wanted to immerse
himself more.

Take us both under, Quinn.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Dropping beneath the
surface, he groaned with the pleasure of it as she threaded her fingers through
his sweaty, bloodstained hair, cleansing it in the flow of the water.

When they surfaced, they floated together, a drifting waltz.
She laid her head on his shoulder and he held her as she held him, no words
needing to be said.

“Eventually we need to go use the shower,” she whispered.
“So I can clean my servant thoroughly. Inside and out.”

The images she gave him made him flush. “I can do some of
that myself.”

“If your Mistress commanded you, then you would. But she
wants to do it herself.” Lifting herself up to kiss him again, she caught her
fingers in his hair, pulling enough to elicit a more volatile reaction as she
moved insistently against him. His cock nudged between her thighs, but she
denied him, adjusting so it was trapped between them, her mound pressed firmly
upon it to keep it restrained and stimulated at once.

He couldn’t believe he was feeling desire. She’d said a
third mark was always ready to rise to the occasion, that that was part of the
perks of a vampire having a full servant, but it wasn’t the physical capability
that startled him. Or gave him warring feelings of shame and desire both,
cramping his stomach again.

“Quinn.” She had his face in her hands, was pinning him with
that steely blue look. “What Laurent did to you, it was no more than a physical
reaction. I know that. You know that. Don’t give him that power over you. Did
you give him your heart?”

“No. God no.” He locked his gaze with hers. “My heart
belongs only to you, Mistress. Only to you. Now and forever.”

“Then don’t let him steal your soul.” She drew a breath.
“There were times…I had to do things at his command. The first time, I felt as
you do now. Ashamed, angry, helpless…unclean. But we endure. If we love and
live, he has gained nothing from us but a moment of our lives. Butch was not
far off on it. Laurent is hated and feared by everyone except perhaps Claudio.”
She threaded her fingers through his thick hair, wet and slicked back to his
skull, then passed her touch over his jaw, his cheekbones, showing him in her
mind her pleasure with his features, the beauty of his brown eyes, the strength
of his body holding her. “You are a beautiful, brave, amazing man any woman
would cherish. I’ve been fortunate enough to secure your loyalty, enough to
bind you to me forever. Do you wish to serve your Mistress?”

“With everything I am,” he said hoarsely.

“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 to 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.