At the thought of all the things he could do with Selene and the sweet treat, his balls tightened and his blood hummed. She pivoted and left him, heading down the hall with a great deal of hip action, the hem of the short skirt flirting just below her ass. She was already slipping the straps off her shoulders, making him want nothing more than to follow. But his Mistress had commanded him to eat, for good purpose. He wanted to fuck her senseless all night long, and no way in hell would he risk running out of steam.
Annette had left a couple turkey sandwiches in the oven as she usually did, and he wolfed them down faster than he'd ever eaten anything. The slice of cake he cut was nice and thick, with lots of frosting. As he hefted the two bags in one hand and strode back to the bedroom with the cake plate, his mouth was already watering, but not necessarily for the cake alone.
At the bedroom door he came to a complete stop, frozen in his tracks, awed by the sight of what awaited him. The covers were folded neatly at the foot of the bed and Selene lay stretched out on the sheet, her entire body tinted gold by the lamplight. She was naked, her knees bent and her legs spread wide so her pussy was temptingly open to him, the pink folds already glistening with arousal.
She grinned at him. "Come here, cowboy, and I'll show you the proper way to eat dessert."
"Yeah? Give me just a minute here. Savoring and all that."
"I don't repeat myself, and I don't like waiting. Get over here."
He'd started to set the plate down on the nightstand, but she stretched out an imperious hand. When he gave her a wry look but nevertheless dropped the bags and came forward, she took the plate from him and rested it on her stomach. "Strip," she said.
Quinn kicked his boots in a corner of the closet and dropped everything else in a pile. Then he was on the bed beside her, his cock dark and throbbing, his heart pounding.
"How are you with frosting?" She gave him an impish grin.
He licked his lips. "That depends on what's involved."
"I think you could do a great job decorating my nipples and my pussy, don't you? I'm sure you've got some very creative ideas."
"Oh yeah," he breathed. "Do I ever."
"Show your Mistress how clever you are. How talented."
Scooping a generous amount of the thick frosting with his fingers, he painted first one nipple then the other, covering each tight bud and the areolas completely. He took his time, enjoying the feel of her and the way her body reacted to his touch. Her breath caught in her throat, blue eyes going to half slits. Her knees quivered. Damn. Those third mark enhanced senses told him her arousal was increasing, the scent perfuming the air more densely around them.
"Last night was very intense," she whispered, her fingers playing with the hair along his nape, a half-reverent, half-erotic stroke. "Especially for you. You fought Dix so hard. My heart was pounding, just watching you. My pussy was so wet I knew Butch had to be smelling me, but he was just as absorbed in the two of you as I was."
Quinn wasn't that interested in the Butch side of that equation, but fortunately she didn't linger on that. Her touch trailed over his biceps. "Knowing all your strength is mine to command, knowing your dick was just getting harder as you fought..." She watched him, eyes glittering with desire. "I won't ever stop wanting you, Quinn."
Her voice was throaty with desire, but her eyes shone with that overwhelming need that twined with her ownership of him and made him understand at a gut-deep level that it tied them to each other. She was right, about them needing this. Though lust was pulsing in the air, there was a deep tenderness here, a thick wave of emotion that was a big change from what they'd handled the past twenty-four hours.
He bent his head back to his task, continued to swirl the dark confection in wider circles, covering part of her breasts. Breaking off a piece of cake, he crumbled it over the frosting like scattering sprinkles onto an ice cream sundae. She held herself so still, yet he saw her pulse pounding in the delicate hollow of her throat and felt that energy in the air, like a heat spreading over his skin. The more still she got, the more powerful her reaction.
Shifting his position until he knelt between her outspread thighs, he gathered another generous portion of frosting and began to paint her pussy. First the smooth skin at the top, covering it completely, then carefully down the outer lips. Liquid seeped from her, her slit shining with it, and the scent of it teased at his nostrils further, driving him nuts. When she let out a moan, turning her head to press her cheek against the pillow in involuntary aroused response, he was tempted to toss the rest of the cake and put his mouth on her right now.
The thought was so tempting it apparently penetrated the haze of lust he saw reflected in her gleaming eyes. I don't think so.
Her mind voice had a breathiness that turned him on even more. He would follow her desires, because no matter what he could think up, whatever she demanded only made him harder.
It was just an idea, Mistress.
You are such a horny bastard, Quinn. I think that's why I enjoy you so much.
Actually, the pleasure is all mine.
She laughed, the plate bouncing lightly on her stomach.
When he painted the inner lips, the frosting mixed with her own juices, shining in the reflected light. By the time he'd covered the entire area, she looked as if she wore a chocolate bikini and he was afraid he'd spill himself right there like an excited teenage boy.
"Time to enjoy dessert," Selene instructed, handing him the plate.
He looked from the cake to her.
"Put the plate on the nightstand and attend to your Mistress, Quinn. Eat."
Yes ma'am. He took his time lapping the confection from her nipples and her breasts, first the cake, then swirling his tongue over each ribbon of frosting. He pulled each distended nipple into his mouth in turn, heat washing over him at the eroticism of it. He forced himself to go slowly, giving her every possible minute of pleasure. Reaching over her head, she gripped the spindles on the headboard, arching her body up to his mouth.
Quinn licked until one breast and nipple were free of the chocolate, pausing to take the nipple between his teeth and bite gently.
"I thought I did the biting around here," Selene said, her voice unsteady.
When he looked up he saw the heat in her eyes. "Then you can give me instruction if I do it wrong."
"You're doing just fine." Her words came out on a shaky breath.
By the time he'd cleaned both breasts and nipples he was so aroused his entire body throbbed. He wanted to say the hell with it and plunge right into her cunt, chocolate and all. But she wanted a special treat and he was going to give it to her or die trying. He was enjoying this way more than having Dix hogtie him or suck his dick.
I would certainly hope so. The laughter in her voice made all that seem not as traumatic, yet she was right. This was such a polar opposite of the night before. No brute strength, no pain, no extremes of sensation bruising every nerve in his body. He kept coming back to that word, tender, because this moment was laden with it, a tenderness that they hadn't shared until now. He was touched that she would offer this to him and wanted her to know how much he appreciated it.
I do.
He would have smiled but his mouth was too busy at her pussy, lapping the frosting from the smooth skin. He drew out the process, gathering every bit of chocolate and every drop of her moisture on his tongue and licking his lips over the deliciousness of it. By the time he thrust his tongue deep inside her she was panting and twisting her hips back and forth. But when he moved his mouth to her clit and thrust two fingers inside her she jerked hard enough to dislodge him. He looked up at her, surprised.
"Not yet. I'm not going over yet." She released her grip on the headboard and pushed herself to a sitting position, lifting the cake plate. Rolling to her side, she patted the sheet next her. "Come lie down, Quinn. It's your turn."
"But--"
"Obey your Mistress."
Christ, she was going to destroy him. But he stretched
himself out on his back beside her and waited for whatever came next.
As slowly as he'd decorated her breasts and her pussy, she was even more methodical as she applied the sweet treat to his swollen cock.
"Mmmm. Love chocolate. We must remember to thank Annette for being so thoughtful."
"I'm sure she had no idea the use we'd put it to." Sweat popped out on his forehead as he forced himself to lie still beneath her touch.
"I'm not so sure of that, but do you think she'd like to know exactly how inventive we were?"
"I--No, I don't think--"
"I don't either." Her laugh was soft and low. "But it is an interesting way to enjoy dessert."
Her slender fingers stroked in a steady rhythm, coating his hot shaft, sliding over the skin. Quinn fisted his hands, digging his nails into his palms as he reached for every bit of control. Her touch was bad enough, but when she'd covered his genitals to her satisfaction she knelt beside him and began to swirl the frosting around with her educated tongue. She stroked over his cock and his balls, following the path of her tongue with her fingers until he was sure he was at the absolute limit of his control. He was already so aroused from touching and licking her body. When she probed the slit at the head of his shaft he nearly came off the bed.
"Fuck, Mistress. I can't--I'm--
"Ssh, ssh, shh. It's okay." She drew a line across the hard plane of his stomach with the tip of her tongue before moving the plate to the nightstand. "Lie there for me, Quinn, and let me do the work."
She couldn't eat all that chocolate herself. He knew vampires couldn't digest that much food, but she used a towel they'd brought from the bathroom to clean him off, squeezing and rubbing him, the contrast in friction making his hips jerk, her eyes gleaming with pleasure at his involuntary response. When she was done, she bent and licked off the residual stickiness until he was clean, every trace of the chocolate gone.
Looking up at her, he saw that they now shared a different kind of hunger. She straddled him, opening her pussy with one hand while guiding him to her opening with the other. With an erotically painful slowness she eased herself down until he filled her completely, his passage eased by the moisture lubricating her walls.
"Give me your hands," she demanded.
He held them out to her and she threaded her fingers with his, balancing herself. Her gaze never left his as she began a sensual dance, slide and retreat, up and down, a steady, even rhythm that drove him even wilder.
Hurry. Please hurry.
She just smiled at him and licked her lips.
They might have gone on for a long time this way, but he sensed her own orgasm rushing up from inside her. Her pace accelerated and he thrust his hips up to drive himself deeper, the leash breaking. Icy heat spread over his lower back, his balls tightened and strained, the walls of her cunt gripped him hard and they exploded together. Her liquid bathed him as he spurted into her again and again, their juices mingling as much as their blood had.
Despite the intensity of the orgasm, when the spasms subsided and the aftershocks faded, he felt strangely at peace. She had driven the devils of the previous night from his mind, just as she'd promised. Leaning forward, she placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Then she brought his wrist, the one with the mark, to her mouth and kissed it also.
We are together, cowboy.
I am yours, Mistress.
Damn straight.
Chapter Fourteen
Sometimes the mind blocking is necessary. Those words became Selene's mantra, because for the next three days she had to keep a lot of things locked up inside her mind to maintain a calm countenance. Yet inside that limited space, her nerves screamed with impatience.
But she'd done what she could do. She had pleaded her case with Butch. Suffered through the subjugation of Quinn because that was what was required, once Butch agreed to grant her request. She had been so proud of him, this incredible alpha male who'd put himself in her hands completely in order to belong to her. Serve her.
She now knew why, once having a fully marked servant, a vampire never did without one. Finding that unique combination of submission and service, all of it packaged in an aggressive cowboy who knew his own mind and had a formidable will of his own, was an incomparable gift. It terrified her, another reason to keep a great deal of her thoughts locked away from Quinn. So much could go wrong...
The little interlude with the chocolate cake when they returned to Last Chance Ranch had certainly taken the edge off for both of them. It pleased her that no matter the mood of the situation, the intensity, his entire focus had been to please her.
You've chosen well, Selene.
Recalling Butch's words, she certainly hoped so. Since she'd given Quinn the third mark, the atmosphere of their relationship had changed. Without it Quinn never would have submitted to the activities at Butch Dorn's. Nor would their nights together be as erotically intense. As a full servant, he was able to renew his energy more quickly, replenish himself in shorter time periods. He no longer needed more than a couple hours of sleep. While she slumbered through the day, he attended to business at the ranch, fully rested and working alongside his hands. Sometimes she would morph into the butterfly and soar to wherever he was, beating her wings for attention and lighting on his hand to let him know she was still with him, still in control. She loved watching him as he worked, seeing him sit tall and relaxed in the saddle, almost one with Midnight. When she was with him out there on the range, his heart and mind seemed as content as she'd ever felt him.
At night he would come to the bar, usually a couple hours after opening, and stay until she closed. Sometimes he sat in the office, watching the little television in there. Other times he wandered out to the front, sitting at a table chatting with people he knew, or just hanging out by himself. He was more relaxed now, renewing friendships with regulars he'd pushed to arms' length because of his schedule and the stresses of the bar. But always, whenever she was within sight of him, he watched her with eyes that devoured her. Every day only strengthened the bonds of their relationship.
She looked forward to the next three hundred years with her servant. If they could get past Laurent.
Hopefully that situation would be resolved before much more time passed. Quinn had discussed a number of options for moving her into the ranch house. It wasn't just a matter of a dark room where she could sleep undisturbed. They needed to have a logical explanation for Annette as well as Johnny, Kevin and the other hands. Butch had created a positive situation with Dix, so perhaps they could learn from his structure.
Quinn was impatient as well, wanting this to be settled so they didn't have disaster hanging over their heads. If only she'd get some word from Butch. She could just imagine Laurent's reaction when he got the telephone call. The man was given to incredible rages. She'd seen the punishment he had doled out to those who displeased him or violated his rules. Nausea gripped her at the thought. But she'd known a day of reckoning would come when she'd had enough of her virtual indentured servitude and run away.
Had Butch made the damn call already? One didn't nag an overlord. He'd said he'd notify her when he called Laurent, but in the meantime it left her on edge, listening every night for the phone in the bar to ring.
Thankfully, After Hours was busier than ever. Tonight was a prime example. Even though it was a weeknight, the bar was jammed, the activity occupying her physically as well as mentally. For some reason, everyone in town had decided they couldn't wait for Friday or Saturday to kick up their heels. Every seat was full as well as every bar stool. The jukebox was blaring, the tiny dance floor jammed with couples doing a fancy two-step.
She wasn't expecting Quinn. He was interested in a particular breeding bull at a ranch in West Texas, so he'd flown there late afternoon. Dinner was on the agenda tonight with some old friends and tomorrow he'd look at the bull. He'd told her he'd be back about noon or a little after and see her that night. Good. Much as she longed to be with him every minute like a ridiculous teena
ger, she needed some space to cobble her thoughts together.
As she kept an eye on things while pouring drinks and pulling taps, Manuel hustled in the kitchen. Tonight Maria was scheduled to work, but when the size of the crowd ballooned Selene had called Carol, who was only too happy for the extra money. Selene was pleased at how the two had blossomed under her management, taking pride in their work. Maria was even showing interest in acquiring more bar management skills, talking about taking some business courses at the closest community college.
Selene was in the process of mixing two drinks when the call finally came in. Seeing the Blood Rock Ranch number on the caller ID of the bar phone, she motioned for Carol to take her place and plucked the phone off the wall, hurrying around the corner to the privacy of the hallway.
"Ma'am?" Dix's voice greeted her. Of course. Though Butch treated her as a guest at his home, she was still not officially in his territory and had insinuated herself here without permission. She had no status that would require Butch to be the one who called. It still pricked a bit, but Dix softened that with his next words. "Butch apologizes for not calling himself. He's been in conference with the Region Masters on and off through the day, but he just learned something he knew you'd rather know sooner than later."
Selene gripped the receiver hard, pushing back the bile that suddenly surged into her throat. "That's fine. Do they have a decision?"
"Not yet. Still working on it." Dix paused as if he might say more, then his tone became more neutral. "Butch was going to call New York after he got a little ways into talking to the Region Masters, buy you some more time before Laurent got the heads-up. But the northeast Region Master just mentioned he'd brought Laurent into the loop two nights ago."
She swallowed the disappointment, even as she appreciated Butch's attempt. Apparently the Region Master of Laurent's territory was either his friend--God help her then--or a stickler for protocol.
Dix paused and she heard an exchange of conversation. "Hold on. Actually, Butch has just stepped out of his office and wants to speak to you." Dix's grimmer tone told Selene to brace herself.
"The Region Masters patched Laurent into our conference call," Butch said without preamble. He gave a humorless chuckle. "That wasn't the most pleasant conversation I've ever had, youngling."