The Turning Kiss (8 page)

“Ah, that’s good,” he murmured, leaning his shoulders back against the high side of the tub.

She pressed the arch of her foot harder against him, and he moaned, tilting his hips into her.

“Ah, so good, Ilana…”

She was watching him as she rubbed her foot up and down the length of his rigid shaft. Her eyes were gleaming, that deep, sparkling blue. She had a small smile on her face, as if bringing him pleasure pleased her. He knew it did.

She dipped lower, brushing his balls lightly, before moving back up, pressing against his cock, then releasing the pressure. She did it again, and pleasure built with each press, each release, until his breath was rasping in his lungs.

Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer. He took her foot in his hand, pushed her leg back until it bent at the knee, and lunged for her, the water splashing as he pressed his body between her open thighs. He looped her leg over his shoulder and, holding the sweet curve of her ass in his hands, he lifted her.

“Ah, Calam, yes…”

He tilted his hips, held her tight as he pushed his cock into her.

They moaned together. He began to fuck her in slow strokes, their movements as liquid as the warm water around them. It was all too good—her pussy clenching him, her slick skin, her hands around the back of his neck. Her soft sighs of pleasure. And too soon he was coming, pumping into her.

When he’d caught his breath, he pulled back, kissed her hard on the mouth. He could feel her need in the press of her lips, the frantic twining of her tongue.

“Come, my darling girl,” he told her, helping her to stand in the tub. Bending her over and spreading her thighs, opening her pussy to him.

He leaned in and paused a moment, taking in the sight of her swollen, pink flesh, glistening with her excitement. So damn lovely, he could hardly stand it. He licked her slit, tasting her desire, a little of his own come. He pushed into her hole, and she groaned, surging back into him.

“Ah yes, that’s it,” he muttered against her warm, wet flesh.

“Calam, please… I need to come.”

He reached around her and took her clitoris in his fingers, tugging, squeezing, stroking. Still licking her, licking her, with long strokes of his tongue. And as he pinched her clit hard, in the way he knew she loved, she came, her body shivering.

When the last tremor had left her, he pulled her down into the water, her back leaning into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, felt her erratic heartbeat against his palm as he laid it flat between her breasts.

Mine…

He wanted her. Wanted to make her his. But they had both made certain choices in coming here, to the Midnight Playground. And
this
was not his choice to make.

He kissed the back of her neck, breathed her in, along with the lilac bath salts she used. So sweet, underneath her cool exterior. He felt in some fierce and certain way that no one, not even Konstantine or Luka, understood her sweetness the way he did. Understood
her
.

She belongs to them, the vampires, unless they decide otherwise. So do I.

For the first time since he’d come to the club seven years earlier, he wished it weren’t so.

It was an hour later when one of the collared and leather-clad serving girls came to tell them to prepare to go to the dungeons.

Ilana loved the dungeon play, and it had been some time since she’d been played there. The idea was thrilling, as always. She loved the dim lighting, the scents of leather and desire in the air. The sounds of others being whipped, paddled. That air of exquisite expectancy.

Her heart was pounding as she and Calam removed their robes, leaving them both naked. They stood still as the girl was joined by another, and they were both rubbed down with scented oil, meant to make their skin gleam, as well as to massage them, helping to prepare them for the physical strain of the evening ahead.

The girl’s hand was a sensual touch, exciting her, as it was meant to. That and the ritual of preparation, which she loved. Even more exciting was watching Calam as the other girl rubbed the oils into his skin, his cock going hard, the head darkening. She licked her lips. Saw him smile at her, just a small tilting at the edges of his mouth. She knew he was sinking into subspace, just as she was.

The girls slipped the silver collars around their necks, and Ilana felt her mind sinking further as they were both made to clasp their hands behind their backs. The pair of girls led them out the door—the first time either she or Calam had passed through in several weeks—and down the long marble hall. It was strange, almost a culture shock of sorts, leaving the womblike safety of the rooms they’d shared.

Up the flights of stairs, one level, two, their bare feet scudding quietly on the hard, cool marble. They began to pass a few small groups on the wide staircase, vampires, mostly. All of them eerily, stunningly beautiful. But she couldn’t think too much of them. All she knew was that intense sense of submission at being summoned to the dungeons this way. Of Calam beside her.

She could feel the heat emanating from his body. Knew how hard his cock would be, his dark, male nipples, for the same reasons her body was so on fire. The submission itself. Knowing Luka and the dangerous Konstantine awaited them. And not knowing exactly what might happen, that it was all up to the whims of the vampires.

She was breathless by the time they were led through the door and into the main room of the dungeon. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the tall, wooden bondage frames like enormous racks, the plush velvet couches set around the room, the gleaming expanse of marble walls. And as they passed one of the enormous gilt-framed mirrors, she caught their reflection—the two attendants in their red leather corsets, their shining chrome collars. And Calam and herself, naked but for the silver circlets they wore around their necks. Beautiful, pale skin. Her body so slender next to the bulk of Calam’s muscular build. And she saw once more how rigid his cock was.

She swallowed, desire flowing hot in her veins. Making her breasts, her sex, ache with it.

Need him…

They stopped in front of one of the tall, freestanding wooden X’s at the far end of the main dungeon room—a double-sided St. Andrew’s Cross. She sensed Konstantine at her side instantly, smelled that papery, stone scent of his years. Enticing. Frightening. Her heart beat faster.

“How perfect you both are,” Konstantine whispered against her cheek, laying a small kiss there.

He ran a hand over her stomach, making her body tremble with desire. His touch was unlike any other she’d ever felt—except, perhaps Ever’s—his body impossibly hard beneath the sleek skin. He moved his hand down, over the small of her back, which was always exquisitely sensitive, then over her buttocks. Need rose as he touched her. Spiraled. That and a sense of breathless anticipation.

“You are wondering what will happen tonight, yes?” he asked her. “Look at Calam,” he commanded. She raised her eyes, saw that Luka was stroking his body in much the same way Konstantine was touching her. “You are to experience it together. In a way which will strengthen your bond, and which serves our purposes.”

“Yes, Konstantine,” she said quietly. There was too much going on in her body, her head, to be able to answer him any more articulately. But he didn’t seem to require more from her.

He stepped back, and the two girls were back, one taking her to the cross, the other leading Calam to the opposite side. They were facing each other, and she tilted her chin to see his eyes. They were glazed, glittering silver, watching her carefully through the haze of subspace as the girls fit their ankles into the leather shackles, then raised their arms to fasten their wrists into the cuffs.

The cross was one of her favorite things—being bound and stretched out this way made her feel open. Vulnerable. But beautifully so. Having Calam this close, in this same state of excitement and submission, was doubly thrilling. She could feel his panting breath on her face, he was so near.

Konstantine stepped in close behind her, wrapped his fist in her hair and pulled, just hard enough to hurt. She moaned softly.

“Ah, you love this,” he said. “Both of you.”

She could see that Luka was behind Calam, his hand clasped on the back of his broad neck.

“Luka will play you both for my pleasure,” Konstantine told them, his voice low, his accent heavy. “I cannot do so myself or I would kill you. It is my one weakness. I cannot hold back. But my Luka will do this for me, as he so often does. And I will love watching. Feeling your desire as he whips you. It will have to suffice for me, and it will. Until, and unless, you both take the Turning Kiss.” He paused, while her heart thundered wildly. “Yes, this means we are offering this gift to you both. But we will give you time to think, to choose. Meanwhile, we will have a night of great pleasures, all of us.”

He laid a kiss on the back of her neck, scraping her skin a little with his sharp teeth, before letting her hair go, moving away. Luka reached from behind Calam and gave one of her nipples a hard pinch, smiling at her over Calam’s shoulder as she jumped, pleasure shimmering through her. Then Luka did something to Calam that made him groan, but she couldn’t see what it was. Still, the lust rose in her body, knowing
something
had happened, that Calam liked it.

Luka disappeared from view and she focused on Calam’s face once more, his gaze on hers. So beautiful, the masculine lines of his face. The dark auburn goatee surrounding his lush lips. Lips that had been on hers, on her pussy, only a little while earlier. Her sex clenched.

“Keep your eyes on him,” Luka instructed her, his mouth close to her ear. “Watch each other.”

She felt him step away, and had time to take in a breath before she heard the whistle of the whip, felt it bite into her flesh.

“Oh!”

It was something narrow. Sharp. A cat-o-nine-tails, she thought vaguely. Then he hit her again, and she couldn’t think any longer. Pain shivered over her skin, then endorphins flooded her mind, her body, filling her with pleasure. She heard the whip again, but this time it landed on Calam’s flesh. She watched him wince, his eyes fluttering closed for one moment before focusing on her once more.

“Yes, perfect,” Luka murmured. “Take in each other’s sensation. Each other’s pain. Let it feed you both.”

Luka whipped her again, and her body bowed with the pain, the need it brought with it. She pressed into the cross, her nipples grazing the wood.

Yes…

“Ilana,” Calam whispered, his gaze boring into hers. She saw the pleasure on his face, felt his need multiply her own. “Stay with me.”

Luka smacked her again, then again. Pain and pleasure melded, became one as her body went loose all over, the last of her resistance gone. His hand stroked over her skin—her neck, down her spine—creating a lovely contrast. He hit her again, hard this time, the pain biting into her, as sharp as a knife, as the vampire’s teeth. She loved it. The whip. His cool touch. Calam experiencing it all with her.

The tempo built, the pain rising, becoming harder to manage. But all the time her body burned with need.

More…

As soon as she thought the word, he stopped. She heard Konstantine’s wicked chuckle. Her body was writhing. With need. With the aftermath of the pain. She couldn’t help it.

“Luka, whip Calam for me now, my love,” Konstantine said quietly.

She was panting, her breath hard and rasping. Calam started to smile at her. Then Luka began to whip him.

The whip cracked onto his flesh, and she knew Luka would hit him harder than he had her. She could feel the wooden cross reverberate with it, could hear the repeated smacks of leather on Calam’s skin. Her body surged with desire, stronger the more Luka whipped Calam. His face grew nearly rigid with pleasure, with the pain. His breath was as hard and guttural as hers.

She heard Luka say, “Kiss her, Calam. We know you want to.”

Calam leaned in and took her mouth with his. She was startled by it. With them both bound, under the vampires’ command, with Luka whipping him in a terrible, driving rhythm, his mouth on hers was demanding, pure authority. His lips pressed hard against hers, his tongue thrusting in. She breathed him in, sucking on his tongue, then retreating as he crushed his mouth against hers, hard and hurting.

Need rose higher, her sex aching and wet. Her nipples were two stiff ridges of flesh against the smooth wood. She was burning up with need.

The whip came down harder on Calam, the cross shaking with the impact, with the weight of Calam’s big body. He was panting, gasping into her mouth. Then suddenly, he was gone.

She didn’t have time to figure out what was happening. All she knew was Konstantine’s hands, impossibly nimble on her ankles, then her wrists, releasing her. Then Clam’s human hands rough on her waist as he turned her around, shoving her back against the cross. He kicked her leg wide, slamming his body against hers, lifting her. And with a savage roar, he thrust inside her.

“Ah God… Calam!”

He began to fuck her in a driving frenzy, pumping into her in painful strokes. But she needed it. Loved it. Even more when, moments later, Luka and Konstantine had her chained to the cross once more, her arms and legs spreads wide. She loved the helplessness of it. That she was powerless to do anything but accept Calam’s cock ramming into her. Powerless over her own desire, making her pussy hot, wet, tight with the need to come again.

Calam bent his head, his teeth going into her neck. And she wanted it, that bite of pain. She didn’t care that he was merely human. That he couldn’t drink from her as the vampires did. It was Calam. That was all that mattered. That and the searing pleasure burning through her.

“Just…need to fuck you, Ilana. My love. To fuck you,” Calam muttered. “Gods…”

She tilted her hips, trying to take him deeper. His body was so hard against hers, pressing her back against the sturdy wood of the cross, but even that did nothing but heighten her pleasure. And Calam’s thick cock was impossibly hard, driving deep. His hips slammed into hers, their bones crashing. Faster and faster. Until the pleasure built inside her, something dark and primal. In her aching breasts. In her soaking wet sex. When she came, it was as though she was torn apart by a pleasure so intense she screamed. Stars flashed behind her eyes, dazzling her, blinding her. And still Calam surged into her, over and over.