The Vampire Queen's Servant (54 page)

She looked startled, making him
wonder if she even realized she'd been projecting the thought.

He understood an inkling of the
bond that could grow between mother and child when the child was dependent on
his mother's sustenance for life. While his feelings for Lyssa were not
maternal in any sense, when she lowered her head and found his throat, allowing
him to slide his arm over her shoulder, rest his hand on the crest of one wing,
he knew the fierce, protective connection was the same, the sense that this was
the most important thing he'd done or would ever do in his life, caring for
her. Committing himself to her. Nurturing her whenever, however she needed it.
He was also aware that hunger encompassed several different things for her.

He moved his other hand up her
hip to the stark indentation of her waist and along the ripples of her rib
cage, his thumb grazing the base of her breast. Stroking her, just feeling the
slope of her. Her breath touched his jaw as she released his wrist to curve
around his throat and shoulder, tilting his head up to an even more straining
arch, making him aware of the rush of blood through the arteries, the
vulnerability of his windpipe that could be crushed with the pressure of her
thumb, the clamp of her jaw. Closing his eyes, he moved his other hand along
her thigh as she changed her position and straddled him, pressing her bare sex
down against his pelvis and eliciting a groan of pleasure as the movement
confirmed he was hard and erect for her. Her wings moved, stretching out and
then folding over both of them like the curtains of a bed, closing them into
even greater darkness where he could just make out the line of her shoulder,
feel the press of the elbow talon against his side.

He didn't want to do it, knew it
was the wrong thing to do, but he had to.

My lady, a vampire's
confidence in her superiority can be a fatal mistake.

He'd counted on her not using
the mind link between them, but when he made the comment in his mind, she
lifted her head, her fangs an inch away from his throat. He increased his grip
on the slender stake he had pressed firmly between her ribs. In one blink, he
could have sent it spearing into the heart beneath.

When one gave a shot to a horse,
one thumped and poked the powerful muscle repeatedly. Once the animal was used
to the rapping, one tossed the needle like a dart into the spot. The pressure
and teasing of his fingers had served the same purpose.

As she rose above him,
straightening, he gripped the shaft between them, broke it and let it fall to
the earth beside him. "I'm not easily killed, my lady. I may be driven by
anger when you are in danger, or distressed by that monster who pretended to be
your husband's friend, but I never stop using my brain."

Except when I'm sunk deep
into your body.

As she continued to stare at
him, not speaking, he knew he might lose her in a blink, her capricious moods
dictating she withdraw at his unexpected move and disappear into the shadows of
the forest, leaving him a hollow victory. In fact, making his heart lurch with
the loss, she suddenly stood five feet away from him, her back straight, that
tail following the line of her hip, curled around the front of her feet. With
her taloned fingers slightly curled, wings at half spread, she looked like a
demonic angel.

"Don't go, my lady."
He whispered it, sitting up and extending a hand toward her silhouette, not
wanting her to fade into the darkness. "I beg you. Appease your hunger in
whatever manner your body demands of me."

The wind kicked up, making the
branches of the live oaks creak, the pines whisper secrets. The night creatures
had stilled, sensing a predator in their midst.

He used his eyes now, keeping
them clamped on her outline as if that could compel her to stay. Then she began
to move back toward him. Slowly. One step, two. When she stepped over him, he
settled his hands on the outside of her thighs, his thumbs caressing her flesh.
Bending forward, he laid his lips on her upper thigh, close to the tight folds
of flesh hiding her sex. If the emotions driving the gesture had physical
force, color, perhaps he would have left the imprint of a tiny bloodred rose on
her leg, a permanent reminder of the kiss and all it meant.

Her hands came to rest on his
shoulders, pushed at him, eased him to his back as she straddled him again,
pinning his shoulders to the ground before she sat back and continued to study
him, as if confused by the type of prey she'd found.

He felt like her dark eyes were
gazing into his soul, making it yearn to be a part of her, connected to her
forever. The need surged up in him. While his rational mind argued with him not
to voice it, not to ruin this moment, his heart was fiercely sure it needed to
happen. Right now. This was the time. The turning point.

Go with your gut.

"I've no doubt you're my
Mistress." Reaching up, he stroked his knuckles along the line of her
cheek, his thumb against the corner of her dark eye. He moved back to her ear,
down to the side of her throat, following her windpipe, feeling her swallow.
When he increased his grip, her eyes flickered to him. "I'm your servant,
my lady. Please, let me serve you. Don't doubt me or yourself. I've proven my
loyalty to you. My skill. Believe in me and give me my own choice."

Why do you force me to play
games? All of you, even Thomas. Can't I have one person whom I don't have to
force to do my bidding for their own good?

So she could communicate in this
form. Hearing her voice in his head sounding as it usually did was startling
with the contrast of this winged transformation, but he recovered quickly.

Perhaps you need to stop
feeling you have to make those choices for us. Old you are, my lady
, he teased her gently.
But God you are not. Even God gave us
free will
.

He was an idiot that day. A
weak moment that has caused more pain and aggravation in the world than can be
measured.

Something shimmered in her
expression, something that turned into a hard quiver running through her body.
He was astonished to see moisture collect in the corner of one large dark eye,
become a glittering tear. A moment later he knew what track a tear would take
in this form. The diamond shape of it was split into three trails by the
overlapping folds, dampening her face. Catching the moisture with his finger,
he carefully wiped it away. "Don't cry. Please, my lady."

He began to rise, intending
comfort. As unexpectedly as a lightning strike out of a clear sky, she seized
his hand, pulled back on her haunches and twisted him so she rolled him over.
Forced him to his stomach where he could not see her and his arm was pressed at
an uncomfortable angle behind his back. With his cheek pressed into the dirt
and grass of the forest floor, he could only see her in his peripheral vision.
Just brief impressions, shadows, though she was very solidly real, the way she
anchored herself on his body. She stood on his thighs how in her birdlike
crouch so that her sharp toenails pressed into his muscles. Using her other
hand, she pushed away his torn T-shirt, baring the strip of skin just above the
waistband of his jeans. He turned his pinned wrist to twine his fingers with
the claws holding his arm to his back. While she accepted the contact, it did
not ease the strength of her grip. When she bent to him, the tip of her tongue
touched him, a tongue that felt forked and a bit longer than it had been. He
felt the scrape of a fang.

Use your free hand and reach
under yourself. Unzip your jeans.

It took a bit of effort. This
form was not much heavier, but with her weight on his upper thighs and pressed
on his lower back, she didn't give him much maneuvering room. He sensed her
pleasure in the necessary flexing of his muscles and buttocks to rise up the amount
needed to do her bidding. Since she was completely naked, it stood to reason
she would desire him in the same state, though lying prone on a bare erection
was not the most comfortable position in the world. The unbidden image of her
impaling herself on him as he lay on his back, his arms drawn to straining over
his head by vines dangling from the trees above, tortured him further.

Hold on a second
. He wouldn't envision himself bound. But the next image was the
sultry glide of her slick cunt down his length… one inch… two inches… She was
offering him her fantasies, goading him with her own desires. It was like the
intense eroticism of watching a woman masturbate, only he was getting to see it
from inside of her head, the visions she conjured to stimulate herself.

He managed to complete the task
and struggled to get his shoes off in the same fashion, inspiring her to run
her hand over his buttocks as they shifted to accomplish the task. Once the
shoes were gone, she pulled the jeans off him in a quick move that took his
lower body off the ground, dragging him a couple feet. He gripped at the earth,
seeking balance, but before he could find it she was back on top of him again.
She guided his arms back so the elbows were bent at right angles, his hands
gripping his forearms to form a square on his lower back. Then she manacled his
overlapping wrists with one long-fingered hand, the talons snicking together
like the sound of a lock, scraping against his skin.

Why are you afraid to let me
be free, my lady?

Why are you afraid of
surrendering, Jacob?

With her free hand, she flicked
a claw across the top of his thigh, raking him, taking flesh, drawing blood.

It stung like nettles, the fire
racing over the back of his leg, telling him she carried some type of venom in
those razor tips, hopefully just a temporary measure to distract prey. But
Jesus, it burned. He couldn't help his spasmodic twitching. But she showed
mercy, leaning down and blowing on the area, bringing the feel of a cool mist
across desert sands, easing the feeling. So flooded with relief, he wasn't
prepared at all when she eased two fingers deep into his backside. He jerked
immediately after though, struggling against her. He clenched around her
invasion, creating a different burning sensation, almost as uncomfortable.

Easy, Jacob. Breathe deeply
and relax
. She held him down effortlessly. It made
him fight even harder, his mind overcome by panic at the physical and emotional
reactions that surged through him at the uninvited penetration. There were no inanimate
manacles he could slip. She moved effortlessly with him as he thrashed, and the
predatory pleasure he sensed from her at his struggle only made his reaction
harder to control.

A
virgin in this area
entirely, aren't you? Never even allowed a woman to tease your rim, though you
go for mine often enough. I know you've enjoyed the pleasure of a woman's tight
hole
.

While he was sure his rectum was
going to simply erupt into flames, he was cognizant that before she'd invaded
she'd transformed her fingers back to human form, for there was no feeling of
cutting sharpness, just a woman's fingers, lubricated with that oil he'd felt
on her skin. Maybe also from oils lower down. Perhaps she had actually touched
herself when he'd envisioned her masturbating.

Easy, Sir Vagabond. Be my
slave. Submit to my pleasure
. Leaning over him
now, she pressed her thighs against the outside of his, her mons brushing the
base of his ass just below where her fingers were penetrating.
Though I
admit I love to watch you fight me, your muscles rippling along your back and
shoulders, that delectably tight ass. I love your power, Jacob, knowing you're
a strong man who will resist even when you know you're irrevocably caught. But
as much as that arouses me, I love when you give me all that power as a gift
.

You also like taking it, my
lady.

He felt her dangerous amusement.
Yes, I do. Did you know, from the first time I saw you at the Eldar, to
every second you've been in my house, there hasn't been a single moment I
haven't wanted to taste you, smell you, fuck you? Eat you alive. You're a
hunger I seem unable to appease
.

She was doing it again, putting
images in his brain that were making his cock into a painful iron bar against
the ground. She worked her fingers inside of him in a way that had him pushing
himself mindlessly against the earth as if it were her pussy he was plunging
into. He was working a furrow into the forest floor that was getting warmer
from the heat of his body, making the dirt and packed leaves moist from the
arousal leaking from him.

You're trying to change the
subject, my lady. Turn us away from the course you know is inevitable. It won't
work.

Shut up, slave.

She leaned farther forward,
putting more straining pressure on his arms. She'd turned completely back to
human form except that one hand holding him, for he felt the difference in her
weight distribution. Her hair fell against his shoulder blades. The skin of her
thighs had become silky smooth and soft like her breasts as they pressed
against the top of his folded arms. Putting her teeth to the juncture of
shoulder and neck, she bit deep, her nose and cheek along his jawline.

She drank with her body on top
of his, her fingers far too cleverly pumping in his ass. As she drew sustenance
from him, using him completely for her pleasure and nourishment but offering
him nothing beyond that, it shattered him into pieces. His mind simply stopped
functioning. She tightened her thighs on him rhythmically, matching her cadence
with her drinking. As she rocked, she pressed her pubic bone against the loose
curl of her hand in a way that bumped her fingers more deeply into his ass, as
if she had a cock and her curled knuckles were the scrotal sac slapping against
him. He thought there might be four fingers in him now, stretching him past
bearing with the physical pleasure and emotional turmoil.