"These are the cuffs and frame that Vardalos had brought in special," he said, as if reading her mind. "You can't get out of them, not without substantial effort and concentration. I plan to destroy your concentration, take it away from you entirely until you know you have to ask my permission to have it back."
He thought he had her captured. Reflex had her giving the cuffs a yank, not really believing him, and then her heart hitched in her chest as she found yes, they were stronger than she'd expected. Far stronger. The frame didn't budge, either. She was used to everything she touched being something that would give under the pressure a vampire could bring to bear. It was why one of the earliest things a made vampire learned, after controlling blood lust, was physical self-restraint so they could hold things designed for a human grip without destruction. Like wineglasses, eggs.
She yanked harder. She was caught. Truly caught. Unable to get free. She'd fantasized about it, but reality meant she was vulnerable to attack. Yet the more she pulled, the more her nipples throbbed and the more her hips jerked against the vibration. She was gasping, aroused, panicked...
"Easy," Garron murmured. He'd finished with her hair, had wrapped her braid around his hand, his fingers massaging her nape.
"Take off the blindfold. Take it off." Her voice was muffled, so maybe he didn't understand her. If she could have that much control...
Instead he removed the gag to bend and press his mouth against hers. Gentle, using the tip of his tongue to part her lips, tease them and her fangs, coax her tongue to play with his. He was making a quiet hum in the back of his throat as he did it. Cupping her skull, he stroked her face even more gently, with sensual, drugging intent, making her focus on the strength in his hands, cradling her like an egg. Caring for her.
She kissed him back with desperation and far less control, tried to nip at him. He merely held her face still, kept playing with her mouth, making love to it in a way that had her swaying forward in the chains again, her body against his. He bent his knees and held her waist so he could press his cock against her core, letting her feel that demand even with the denim separating them. He was seducing her into giving up control. Making her okay with something she could never be okay with. Or could she? She'd fantasized about it. She had.
He was giving her what she wanted. But that panic had resurrected a fear she hadn't experienced in so long, the years having pushed it below better memories.
She wasn't a woman who allowed the horrors of the past to control her present or future, but some memories took over if the circumstances were right. She was caught in unbreakable chains, more vulnerable than she'd been in decades.
No. I won't let that ruin this. I won't.
But she had a feeling she was going to need help with that. The question was, was Garron as good a Master as he seemed? Could he drive the fear away?
She had a feeling if anyone could, it would be him. At least she hoped that was the case. She wanted him to be that good. That was probably just as worrisome a compulsion as that darkness of her past, rising to sweep her away in its grasp.
Chapter Five
As she pulled against the right chain, testing it, Garron stroked her hair, tugged it. "That's it, my lady. Make sure of it. You're caught, and all mine."
Back when he'd been studying her in the monitor, he'd contemplated whether the worst of the physical struggle between them was over, and concluded "not yet." She had too many reasons to stay hypervigilant, and too many triggers for them. She was right, what she'd said earlier. It was a miracle that she'd suspended disbelief to come this far. Vardalos was good, but not that good. She must have been near a breaking point to come here and risk so much. He'd seen her express a fuck-the-consequences reaction a couple times now, reinforcing that theory.
A vampire having a midlife crisis. He could handle all that. It was just a matter of managing those triggers with her, staying ahead of them.
He circled behind her, left a kiss on her temple. She was doing that body quiver thing again, and he banded an arm around her waist. She preferred full body contact, did that little melting thing against him every time, yet when he cupped her breast, tested the hold of the clover clamps, she flinched. Time to get rid of those. They were moving into the wrong kind of pain.
Moving around to her front, he unclamped the clovers, and her face tensed in response, her body bowing against the pain. He put his hand against her back and knelt to take her right nipple into his mouth, spreading his lips wide so he could suckle not only on the tender bud, but mouth the flesh around it. He covered the other nipple with his hand, pressed on it, a gentle palm massage as she made tiny noises of distress, caught up in the discomfort of the blood returning.
He soothed only as long as was needed to get her past the initial agony and straightened. Capturing her mouth with his, he put his hand between the clitoral stimulator and her body. As he rubbed a slow rotation over her clit and mound, she made uncertain complaints in his mouth, disjointed things that turned into a sexy little sigh of frustration as he removed his hand. Since he was all about feeding a sub's frustration, seeing how hot he could make her, he raised the setting on the clitoral stimulator before he stepped back. As she started to yank against the chains again, work herself against the ankle cuffs, he circled her, watching, measuring.
"Yeah, you'll be doing a lot of that. We're going to test those bonds, my lady. See just how strong they are."
Thinking about what Vardalos had told him a second mark was, he was intrigued by the idea of being in her mind, of how much more information that would give him as a Master. He could watch the flow of reactions in her head, see them matched in her body, her facial reactions. He'd relied on the other signs too long to become too dependent on what was going on in her head, but it would be a gift, getting both. A woman's reactions could be a tangled mess when she was aroused, the emotional and physical a complex tapestry that required his full concentration. He suspected being in a female vampire's mind might be just as much information overload. It would take some skill to manage all of it, but his instinct for a submissive's needs were finely honed. He was up to it.
He frowned now, because those instincts told him something was off. She was aroused, yes, the stimulator and the situation working together, but her jerking against the bonds was becoming a real fight, fueled by a touch of panic he'd sensed minutes ago, a short wave that was now back in greater strength in the vibrating energy around her.
He wasn't touching her or talking. She'd been using that to stay in the here and now. Realizing it, he quickly moved back in, touched her face, cradled it, let her feel the press of his body against hers. She liked his size, had fitted herself to him like she was under the shelter of a tree several times. It was an early sign of trust. He removed the blindfold, a tactical decision. The flood of relief in her gaze told him it was the correct one. He'd trapped her in darkness with something that had frightened her, something not in this room.
Stroking her jaw, her temples, he spread out his fingers so they were fanned over her cheeks, eyes and forehead. He held them there, over her closed eyes. Through that contact, he felt her trying to steady herself.
"Where did you go, my lady? What memory took you from me? From this room?"
She shook her head. He could push, but she wasn't ready to talk about it. He'd made himself a firm promise he would keep this session in the more physical realm, that a period of pure pleasure was needed before he threw them both into the emotional end again. That plan might have to change, but for now he made the judgment call to keep with his original strategy. It might just break the other loose.
"All right. But keep your head in the game, else we're going to chat and share our feelings."
That won a small smile out of her, and he brushed his hand along her shoulder, the silken skin of her hip. Yeah, she'd made herself tense.
Some Masters were service tops. He had a fair bit of that in him, but he liked to mix it up. The only problem with staying a hundred percent in
that service top zone was it didn't allow for the mutual benefit that could come from a Dom making it all about what pleased him. Done correctly, it could pull a power service submissive out of the wrong headspace as she tried to keep up with his demands, as he made her take whatever he wanted to do, which could make her arousal intense to the point of losing her mind, a high he'd gladly ride all day long.
Roan Abrams was the Master who'd designed Club Sin. During the times he returned to oversee further renovations or special Sin events, he and Garron had shared a few beers and debated the pros and cons of that, because Roan was a dedicated service top. But in this case, there was no room for debate. Garron was going to drive her fucking crazy, drive her to do things she'd never do in her ultra-controlled world. And enjoy the hell out of it himself.
Pushing the stimulator up onto her mound kept her feeling the vibration in an indirect way but removed it from his path so he could play with her pussy as he wished. He kept his hand down there for quite a while, kneading, flicking, thrusting, pleasing himself until she was making those little noises in her throat, bucking against his hand. He wanted whatever had panicked her long gone. While he wanted to pull deeper things out of her, take it beyond play between them, he didn't want those images to be what she carried out of the starting gate. He waited until he was sure her mind was a swirl of red lust. She was jerking against her bonds, but now she embraced the helplessness. Feared it in all the right ways. Her cunt was so wet he followed the tracks down her inner thighs, swirled patterns in the honey. Her thighs strained.
"That's it, my lady. Keep fighting those manacles. Remind yourself you're spread for my pleasure." Adjusting the stimulator back over her clit and putting it on a lower setting, he stepped back and stripped off his T-shirt. Moving back in, he brought himself full against her again. Yanking her head back, he spread slow, lingering kisses up and down her throat, her sternum, rubbed his chest against her breasts, liking the way her nipples stabbed him, how she tried to rub her mound against his cock, even with the interference of the stimulator and his jeans. The vibration tingled through his rigid shaft but he moved out of range, watching her lips twist in frustration, her head tilt as she tried to follow him with hearing and smell.
Going to the cabinet that held his supplies, he withdrew a dildo the average thickness and length of a man's cock and lubed it up from one of the pump bottles on the counter. There were three kinds. One standard lube, one with a warming oil, and one flavored with some spices that could make a woman writhe and scream from the fiery touch on her nipples or clit. Definitely not one he used in the anus, unless he was in the mood to cross the line of criminal sadism.
The only way he'd be doing that was if one of the bastards who'd mistreated her was in those chains instead.
He knew that was what had happened. He'd seen the signs before. In her world, there had to be some bad times when another vampire had taken what he wanted from her. Up until now, he hadn't seen those indications of sexual abuse, but she was a warrior, a leader who couldn't afford getting caught up in brutalities of the past. He understood that, as much as he understood that putting her in situations where she was helpless might bring them back to life. He was going to make her craving for more of what he was doing far greater than any memory.
Parting her buttocks, he probed her ass with the slick tip of the dildo. Eased it in past tense outer and inner muscles. "Push out against it, let it all the way in. You resist it, it burns. There you go, my lady."
His own arousal cranked up several notches as he got it seated, imagined his own aching hard dick in there. "Hold it with your muscles. Keep clenching down on it. Your cunt muscles will work at the same time and everything will start to feel like one long climax. But you don't come until I say, do you?"
She shook her head. "No, Mas--"
She cut herself off like she'd bitten herself. He steeled himself not to pounce like a tiger on a morsel of steak. "What was that, my lady?"
As he passed a light hand along her back, he found she'd gone rigid as a board, so he let it go for now. Before it was done, he'd kill to hear those words come from her lips. Now, though, he put himself against her back, his mouth to her jaw. "Can you give me everything I demand, my lady? Can you serve your Master better than any sub ever has?"
Nothing like rousing a competitive streak in a power sob. A long pause, then she nodded, a hitch like a sob coming from her. He nuzzled her jaw, inhaled her scent, a flavor of powder and lavender, a metallic undercurrent of blood. He could almost feel her rolling the phrasing around in her head. Your Master...
"Then I think it's time for a punishment," he said.
Pulling the alligator paddle from his back waistband, he trailed it down her back, let her feel the edge, the broad slapping part. When he got to her buttocks, he rotated the handle against the flared dildo in her ass. "I'll bet you haven't been stretched here in awhile. Do you push your fingers in there sometimes when you're alone, think about being taken, your face pushed in the mattress, my hands yanking your hips up so I can plow your ass?"
She nodded again. Because she was so graceful, he was beginning to love that unsteady jerk of motion. While farther down the line he might demand a yes, Master or no, Master, since he didn't rely on his hearing for stimulation, body language was often far more arousing to him. Every twitch she made went straight to his cock and the fire burning inside him to take, possess. It was a state he often experienced during a session, but there was an extra intensity to it with her, knowing how far they had to go--and how hot that flame would be by the time they got there. He might incinerate them both.
"I'd drop down over you, cover you, grip your wrists for leverage, but also to stroke them as I fucked you. A reminder that I never forget you when I fuck you. You're never just an object. You're the object."
His object. His property. His lady.
It might be a little harder to keep this out of the emotional arena than he'd expected. She trembled under his touch. When her lips parted, he spoke harshly. "No talking unless you want that gag back in."
He forced himself to step back. "A little warm up, mainly because I love the way my hand feels, connecting to your pretty ass."
He spanked her once, twice, the slap a blunt, solid sound in the quiet room. She sighed, a sound of relief and need at once. He did it a few more times, drawing the blood up to the surface of the skin, giving her a nice rosy blush. She rocked at the force he put into it, and he ran his hands up along her arms. The muscles were tight. By the time he was done she'd need a nice full body massage, one of his favorite parts of aftercare. Usually it got him worked up enough he'd fuck his sub again while she lay there exhausted, staring up at him with shining eyes and slack mouth. He'd like to see that in his lady's face. While every sub who'd gifted him with her willing submission was special, they all felt like warm ups toward this. This was a female who needed every skill he had and would be as demanding a sub as he was a Master. They'd test each another's limits with every interaction. Right now she still wasn't sure of herself, but he could tell the signs of it, in those little fights they'd had.
Yeah, the little fights that had left his ribs bruised and his skull almost split like a pumpkin. A grin split his lips. "Time for payback, my lady."
She jerked at the first slap of the alligator paddle. It was a vicious brute, tough and unforgiving, and it left a nice pattern on female flesh. It was nice, working with such a physically powerful woman who nevertheless had curves. One of his subs had been a competitive weight lifter, all hard muscles and very little body fat. She'd been beautiful, yes, like having an exotic creature in his care, but if he had his preference, he wanted a woman who had generous breasts and a heart-shaped ass. Lady Kaela reflected the best parts of Aprodite and Artemis. Goddess of beauty and huntress both.
He ran his hand over her ass after he hit her three times in the same place. She exhaled that shuddering sigh again at his contact. Reaching in front of her, he brought the stimulator up another notch. She w
himpered, her legs fighting the bonds, trying to rub herself against it. He cinched his arm around her, held her fast and started applying the paddle to both ass cheeks, her upper thighs, back to the butt again. As she got close to a cusp, he pulled the stimulator away from her, made her pussy clench on empty air, and spanked her some more, until the pain took her away from the edge. She was making all sorts of noises, soft cries, words it seemed like she was trying to strangle back. Not because he'd bid her be silent, but as if she was used to having to be quiet about her pleasure. He was having none of that.
"I want to hear you, my lady. Else I'm going to make this hurt a lot more."
He pinched a nipple, gave her cunt a few smacks with his hand over the stimulator before he stripped that from her. She let out a little protest, and he gave a nasty chuckle. "Yep, not going to let you get off with that, my lady. You have to ask me. Beg me. I can keep your climax out of reach for hours, break your mind in half."
She was going to more cavernous levels inside, pulling him down with her. He could follow because he saw the path in front of him, in the way her head tipped back, her mouth worked, her body flushed as she shook, jerked, fought her bonds. Forget the second mark. What would it be like to have that third mark, be able to follow her down to her soul, see what happened when subspace took over, wrapped itself around every part of her, inside and out?
"No...I can't take anymore...please..."
"Yeah, you can. You're just scared to let go."
He seized her around the waist from behind, set his teeth to her throat, shoved his rigid cock against her ass, against the dildo. When he forced his knee up between her legs, a decided impact that made her strain against the chain, she groaned with pleasure. She wasn't holding back any more.
He reached up, clasped her hand above the manacle and shifted his body to give her bottom another whack, earning another short shriek from those lush lips. Her fingers clamped over his hand, hard enough that the bones creaked alarmingly. Oh, yeah, she still had some fight in her. The blow he gave her this time was a definite reprimand, and triumph surged through him as she not only understood loud and clear, but responded appropriately. She convulsed, let him go, but he saw the flash of her fangs, heard that little defiant hiss.