Vampires' Consort: Magical Menages, Book 2 (15 page)

In that moment, he hated Jacob for being able to give her what he couldn’t. But the flash of jealousy passed swiftly, suffused in a bright, white light of ecstasy.

Above him, Akila grimaced and cried out as she, too, reached her climax. But even then, she never took her eyes from his face—seeing him, staying with him while they both shuddered with bliss.

When the last bit of pleasure was wrung from their bodies, she lay on top of him, her chest heaving against his. She tapped a fingertip against his chin. “No fangs.”

For once, he hadn’t even had to fight the urge. He’d been so intent on staying with her in the moment that his natural inclination to feed had been completely forgotten. Not that he wouldn’t like a sip now that she’d mentioned it.

“I wasn’t thinking of that,” he replied. “I was only thinking of you.”

She smiled. “That’s good. I’d much rather be a partner than a meal.”

“You don’t fear me at all, do you? Even knowing what I could do to you.”

“I trust you,” she answered simply. “Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”

His mood seesawed from an ecstatic high to a guilty low at the question. He’d been truthful with her from the beginning—to a point. But there were little footnotes and commas he may have left out of the explanation, and very soon their appearance would be unavoidable.

“None. I would never do anything to hurt you,” he answered honestly.

Chapter Eleven

Akila felt like Wonder Woman and Supergirl combined. The influx of some paranormal energy coursed through her. Maybe it was the power of Ra, her distant ancestor, or maybe she was simply glowing from the ecstasy of many orgasms in a short span of time. When she was alone in her room, she’d tried to lift a bottle of lotion from the dresser using only the power of her mind and gotten nowhere. Then she picked up a decorative brass vase from a side table and attempted to crush the metal with the super power of her grip. Nothing. So apparently she was neither Supergirl nor Wonder Woman. Maybe she was Lusty Wench, able to orgasm multiple times from a single cock.

Except that she’d had more than one cock recently. Over the past few days with Valarian and Jacob, she’d been with the men both singly and simultaneously. Their first encounter had been only the beginning of a non-stop buffet of sex.

Following her night spent with Valarian, Akila had not mentioned leaving the island again as days slipped by.

She’d called her friend Cheryse to tell her everything was fine and she’d be staying longer. She’d paid her bills online—with a generous influx of cash to her account from Valarian. That felt weird, as if she was prostituting herself. It was a very fine line between accepting financial aid from a wealthy friend and accepting payment for services rendered. Akila knew which side of the line she fell on, but for an outsider it might look bad, which was why she might have warped the facts a little when she called her parents to tell them what she was up to.

“I had this opportunity to work at an island resort in the Caribbean. I don’t know how long I’ll be down here. But it’s a chance to pay off my student loan and you know I wasn’t finding any work back in Chicago. Love you, guys. See you in a few months.”

She’d never been so glad for the invention of voicemail, since she didn’t really want to lie to her mother’s face. When Ma called her back, she would ignore the calls for a while until she was ready to deal with her inevitable questions.

But then Valarian made her voice message true by offering her a job.

“I don’t want you to get bored here on the island with nothing constructive to do. How would you feel about helping me in the office? There’s a little paperwork and filing, but mostly you’d be working with my web designer, providing site content. Are you up for that?”

“Absolutely.” In one fell swoop, he’d eradicated her concerns about accepting his money by giving her work. And it
was
a real job, not just busywork provided to ease her conscience. In addition to Valarian’s corporate site, there were numerous charitable organizations he’d founded, all of which required news updates and fresh content to keep them from being outdated.

“I’ve been outsourcing the work, but I’d much rather give it to you,” he told Akila. “I’ve read some of your writing samples and think you’ll do an excellent job.”

“Thank you.” She was pleased to learn he’d read her portfolio, but not too surprised. He was a thorough man.

“As long as you can keep from surfing porn sites during work hours,” he teased.

“You know far too much about me.” She tilted back in the swivel chair facing the computer screen and looked up at Valarian who stood behind her. “I’m not sure how I feel about your poking around in my life as you’ve done. Just a bit stalkery for a prospective employer, don’t you think, Mr. Kaspan?”

“Background checks are expected, Miss Massri. Don’t worry. I found yours fairly tame.” He bent and kissed her forehead.

Valarian had a teleconference to attend that morning and left Jacob to bring Akila up to speed on his vast holdings. It was like being back in her one college business course—which had bored the hell out of her—as Jacob explained the structure of Kaspan Industries and showed how the money flowed between the different components and into the various foundations.

“What is your part in all this?” she asked.

“Facilitating. Running errands in daylight. Dealing with details Valarian doesn’t have time for. Whatever is needed.” Jacob leaned forward and touched the screen, bringing up a list of names and emails. “Here are contacts who can tell you what kind of content they need. And here—” he brought up another pane “—are the addresses for the sites you’ll be working on. Study them to get a sense of the tone of each.”

He left her to her homework, returning to his own computer at another desk in the large office. Akila dutifully set to work, studying the websites, and was surprised when she glanced at the time to find hours had passed.

“Hungry?” Jacob called from across the room. “Valarian loves cooking, as you know. He’ll have something waiting for us.”

“Starving. Who knew sitting and staring at a computer screen could burn off so many calories? I feel like I’ve run ten miles.” Akila pushed back her chair.

Before she could stand, Jacob was beside her, offering a hand to help her rise in a courtly, old-fashioned gesture. She took his hand, and, surprise, her alter ego Lusty Wench was back, enflaming her body.

Jacob drew her to her feet. Then they stood, ridiculously close, looking into each other’s eyes for a few moments before he kissed her and took her arm to lead her to the door. “Lunch now.”

Sex later
, Akila completed the thought. As her mother had always said, there was a time for everything. But currently Akila’s body seemed to be suffering under the delusion that every time was sex time. She reined in her libido and walked with Jacob to the dining room.

It was several days into her visit and she’d come to expect that Valarian would always provide a beautiful spread. The lunch of smoked salmon pâté, cucumber sandwiches and a hearty vegetable soup was followed by strawberry shortcake for dessert.

“Bless your culinary skills,” she said as she set her spoon on her dish at the end of the gut-busting meal. “But I’m not going to be able to keep eating like this and still wear my clothes.”

“There’s no need to. You’re perfectly welcome to go naked if you like,” Valarian teased.

“Maybe in a little frilly apron and nothing else,” Jacob suggested, a small smile curving the straight line of his mouth. He might not be as quick with the quips as his master, but he had flashes of humor now and then.

Lunch was followed by an afternoon siesta that didn’t include much sleeping. Valarian’s big bed hosted all three of them, providing a place to lounge and talk and drowse. It also provided a playground for sexual kinks.

That particular day, Valarian brought out a coil of rope.

Akila’s pussy tensed at the sight of it. The idea of being tied was exciting, but a little unnerving too. Surrendering control was not really in her nature—or maybe it was, because she’d shown a lot of trust and given up much control simply by coming to this island to meet an unknown fate.

Jacob stripped her, while Valarian fastened the rope to her wrist. The rough jute was like sandpaper on her bare flesh, irritating in a sexy way. He employed no fancy, Kinbaku-style knotwork, but simply bound her hand and foot to the bed, arms raised above her head and fastened to the bedposts, legs spread-eagled to reveal her throbbing, wet pussy.

She lay bound in a helpless X on the bed, comfortable and cushioned but immobile. Her tugs on the arm restraints told her there was no play in the rope, and she grew surprisingly uneasy at the knowledge that she couldn’t move. Her chest grew tight and her breathing short as the two men gazed on her like hungry predators.

Valarian disappeared from view to rummage in an unseen drawer. Jacob remained, scratching his fingertip lightly up and down the arch of each foot to make Akila squirm.

“Stop it!” she whined. “That’s not sexy. Just annoying.”

But she lied. There was something extremely arousing about being tickled and unable to fight back, also about being naked while both men were still fully clothed.

Valarian returned to the foot of the bed. Akila caught her breath as she realized he was holding a flail among other things. She’d never indulged in BDSM play before and wasn’t certain she was ready to “embrace the pain”.

But Jacob walked around the bed to bend over and kiss her cheek.

“Don’t look so nervous. If you don’t enjoy what we do, call out ‘enough’ and we’ll end it. However, we’ll ignore all other begging or demands to stop, assuming it’s part of the play.”

She nodded, clinging to the idea of a safe word like it was a life vest.

Jacob lifted her head from the pillow and tied a cool, silken scarf around her eyes before laying her head gently down.

And then the two men set to work torturing her.

Something light tickled her body with little flicks. She concentrated on the sensation, trying to figure out what was brushing over her skin. Feathers, she decided.

On either side of her, they started with her arms, sweeping the length with the soft edge of the feather—or maybe it was a whisk of some sort. They brushed over her breasts and belly and then her legs, waking her flesh with the light touches.

Soon her skin was sensitized, every molecule humming. She wiggled and pulled against her bonds, but there was no way to escape the inexorable tickling. She began to moan and lifted her hips as one of her persecutors came close to the lips of her pussy with his tool of torture. She wanted—needed—more than these delicate touches that aroused but gave no relief. Moisture gathered in her pussy and slid slickly down her crack, probably wetting the sheet beneath her.

Suddenly there was a complete cessation of touch as the feather playing between her legs stopped moving. She was left thrusting her hips, seeking its playful stroke. Akila whimpered in disappointment.

And then she shrieked as tongues of fire stung her pussy. She felt the pain at the same moment she heard the snap of leather against flesh. This must be the flail she’d seen, its multiple tails striking her wide-open pussy. With her legs spread so far apart, there was no way to protect this vulnerable part of herself. She realized it didn’t really hurt that much nor had she been struck hard. It was the unexpected pain after the tender brush of the feather that made the impact so shocking.

Whichever of her torturers had struck her only applied the flail once, and then the warmth of a tongue lapped her quivering folds, soothing her injury. Flat and broad, the tongue bathed her vulva and then sharpened to a point that tickled her clit. She arched toward the touch only to be left searching once more as the disembodied tongue left her.

“Oh God, you’re killing me,” she groaned.

With her eyes blind, her other senses were tuned like a high frequency antenna. Every rustle of Valarian or Jacob’s movements was audible, and when one whispered something to the other, she strained to make out the words. One of the men moved to her right side. Jacob, she decided from the faint smell of sandalwood that lingered around him. His scent. Which meant Valarian was the one licking fireworks between her legs. She tensed her body and waited to see what Jacob would do. Her inability to do anything except wait drove her crazy and made her hyperaware of every part of her body.

Her breasts felt full and heavy, the nipples beaded hard and craving stimulation. Jacob didn’t disappoint. His fingers surrounded her peaks, rolling and warming them, bringing a flush of blood to each. He let go and she held her breath. What would happen next?

A second later she received her answer as sharp pain lanced each bud simultaneously and shot straight down to her pussy, making it clench wildly. She cried out and jerked. Jacob had placed clips on her nipples. Erotic nipple clamps or old-fashioned clothespins, she didn’t know which, but they sent jolts of aching pleasure through her body. She winced, but already the pain was beginning to ebb as her tits adjusted to the sensation of being clamped in tiny vises. It wasn’t too excruciating to bear, not enough to make her call “enough” yet.

Valarian was petting her, stroking her thighs and rubbing her pussy lips, circling her clit and giving her pleasure to balance the pain in her nipples. And Jacob was kissing her breasts, licking the undersides, moving soft lips all around each globe before tonguing her nipples and their torture devices. He sucked on one nipple, stretching it out and reigniting the pain.

She groaned and he released it, only to move to her other breast and give it the same wonderful torture. Meanwhile, down between her legs, Valarian had replaced hand with mouth and was feasting on her pussy. He lapped up her juices, then moved farther up her seam, and something sharp pricked her tender lips. Valarian let out a low growl and for a second she feared he would tear into her with his fangs, draw blood and suck her dry, her cream mingling with the blood he craved. Just the idea of it made her tremble with her own craving…to be devoured.