Vampires' Consort: Magical Menages, Book 2 (16 page)

His mouth moved to her inner thigh and he nicked her, hard enough to leave no doubt it was fangs. Then he latched on and began to suck hard.

Akila barely had time to adjust to the feeling of his eager mouth on her vulnerable thigh when Jacob returned her attention to fresh pain in her breasts. He jerked off both clamps with no warning. Blood rushed back into the nipples and Akila yelped. Oh, but it was a delightful agony and followed by sweetness as Jacob suckled first one breast then the other. His soft grunts as he nuzzled and tugged added to her pleasure and combined with the excitement of Valarian feeding from that very intimate spot near her pussy. Soon she was thrashing and groaning. Lost in a haze of ecstasy, borne on the waves of pleasure and pain, she came without any stimulation on her clit at all.

But that was only the beginning. Her lovers seemed determined to play with her until she called “enough”, alternating pain and pleasure until she hardly knew where one ended and the other began.

 

Jacob’s cock felt like rebar pressing against the seam of his jeans. He reached to adjust it as he gazed at the breathtaking sight of Akila spread open before him on Valarian’s bed. Her beautiful face contorted as she cried out her release, and so far all they’d done was play with her breasts and pussy a little. She’d said this was her first experience of BDSM play. It must be a heady experience to set her off so quickly.

Valarian had brought out several toys, which they’d used on willing partners in the past and sometimes on each other. Jacob usually played bottom to Valarian, but once in a great while, the master enjoyed becoming the slave and submitting to his thrall’s demands or lying submissively bound while Jacob whipped him soundly.

Now as he brought the flail down on Akila’s breasts, Jacob knew exactly how the knotted thongs felt, but also how to wield them to cause the minimum amount of pain. This experience was meant to arouse Akila, not injure or upset her. He wanted to leave pretty red marks across her breasts without causing real hurt. A flick of the wrist and the tails slapped across her tan breasts with their dark brown nipples, making them jiggle.

Akila yelped and jerked.

Jacob gave her a moment to recover before whipping her chest again. And again. She whimpered, and he immediately stopped. It wasn’t his nature to give pain. After the very real pain and horror he’d seen in his life, playing at it in a sexual way wasn’t something he particularly cared for. Just because Valarian had handed him the flail didn’t mean he had to use it. There were other ways to torture a lover that didn’t involve pain. Jacob moved to the foot of the bed and tapped Valarian’s shoulder like a dancer requesting a change in partners.

The vampire’s eyes were closed as he sucked the life-giving nectar of Akila’s blood. Although Jacob knew his master was able to control himself, a strong protective urge rose in Jacob that made him want to shove the vampire away from her. Valarian lifted his head, blood trickling from a corner of his mouth. He blinked away the fog of lust then climbed off the bed, leaving the way clear for Jacob.

Jacob regarded the neatly trimmed thatch of hair crowning flushed pussy lips spread to reveal red petals and a dark crevice. The skin of her thighs was silky smooth except where marred by Valarian’s bite mark. Jacob chose a vibrator from Valarian’s bag of toys, flicked it on and brought the buzzing tip to Akila’s pussy.

She jerked and moaned as he tickled her overly sensitized clit and then plunged the device into her dripping hole. He loved the sight of her writhing body as he brought her to climax—perhaps a series of mini-climaxes from the way she reacted.

“Too much. Stop,” she groaned as he relentlessly played her body.

Jacob switched off the vibrator and gave her time to settle down. Valarian, too, hovered by the bedside, watching but not touching. They’d indulged in these games together before and knew just how to create maximum intensity for their playmate. Periods of rest were an important part of torture, giving the victim time to build anticipation of what would happen next. Together they’d slowly seduce Akila into a frenzy of want and need. Before it was over, there would be tears and she would beg for release.

Jacob’s cock was fully erect and aching to plunge into Akila’s waiting and ready opening, but the prolonging of completion was the debt paid by the torturers in this scenario. The time would come and it would be all the sweeter for the wait.

Valarian smiled at Jacob across Akila’s prone body, the predatory smile that even after all these years could send a shiver of alarm and lust through him. The vampire was as hungry as Jacob, both his rigid cock and sharp fangs ready to sink into the woman. Jacob was torn between a protective urge to keep Akila safe from the monster and a desire to take her place and feel that cock, those fangs tearing into him. His feelings for Valarian were a constant war between desire and denial, admiration and animosity, pleasure and pain. There was no denying the power his master held over him or his willingness to submit to it. Sometimes.

 

Valarian gazed not only at the striking, erotic sight of Akila sprawled across the bed, but at his beloved thrall. Mingled lust and distaste chased like clouds across Jacob’s face. Jacob was fully aroused, evidenced by the serious bulge in his jeans. But Valarian knew the man had mixed feelings about torture play—even when the subject was enjoying what was being done to her or him. Vestiges of his experiences in the prison camp would always haunt Jacob’s mind and taint his enjoyment of a bondage and torture scene. It was unfortunate, but didn’t stop Valarian from indulging sometimes and making Jacob play along.

Maybe he was overly controlling, too demanding, tyrannical in his expectation that Jacob would always obey him. Valarian had thought he’d eradicated the despot from his psyche, but what if that was his core personality? He could slap on bandages of philanthropy, but it wouldn’t hide the festering wound of the petty tyrant deep inside him.

The thought was a hard slap to the face, waking him from a lusty stupor, souring his mood and making his erection flag. He suddenly wanted none of this, even if Akila was participating of her own volition. There were too many women in his distant past who’d fought against bonds and screamed in agony rather than pleasure.

Valarian beckoned Jacob to join him in the corner of the room. “We can untie her now. You finish with her.”

Jacob regarded him curiously, but didn’t ask what had changed his mind so abruptly.

Valarian reached out and cupped the other man’s cheek, feeling the warm skin and the scrape of bristles beneath his palm. A surge of affection for his partner filled him.

“Make love to her,” he told Jacob. “We can play this way some other time.”

“As you wish.” Jacob dipped his head in acknowledgment.

“No. As
you
wish.” Valarian smiled. “I know how much you like her. She belongs to both of us, but right now you should make her yours.”

Together they untied Akila from the bedposts and loosened the bindings on her wrists and ankles. She sagged on the mattress.

Jacob stripped and lay down beside her. He pulled the blindfold from her eyes and caressed her face.

Akila blinked and looked at him and Valarian, the dazed, sleepy look of a sated woman.

Jacob murmured something to her before kissing her softly. They made a pretty picture—the dark woman and her pale lover.

Valarian slipped out of the room, leaving them alone together.

Chapter Twelve

Akila had been with her two lovers for a week when Jacob had to fly to the mainland to take care of some business on Valarian’s behalf.

“I won’t be gone more than a few days,” he promised as he kissed her goodbye in the early morning.

“Too long. Hurry back.” She leaned into him, her arms wrapped around his neck. “I’ll miss you.”

“You’ve got Valarian to keep you occupied.”

“He’s not you. I’ll miss
you
,” she emphasized. Sometimes she wasn’t sure Jacob understood that he shared an equal place with Valarian in her affections. She could no more choose between the two than decide whether to give up food or water—both were necessary. And, oh God, when had she begun to feel so strongly about them? She hadn’t even realized she was beginning to fall from lust into… Was this love?

She stood on the edge of the airstrip and waved at Jacob as he climbed aboard the Lear, then watched until the plane took off and disappeared into the sunrise.

As she walked back to the house, she thought over the past days of work and play and marathon sex sessions. She was insatiable where these two were concerned. Her libido was in overdrive and she made love several times a day with one or the other and often both. But although she’d sometimes had Jacob inside her immediately followed by Valarian or vice versa, she’d not yet experienced double penetration. She hadn’t felt ready for that intensity yet.

Maybe when Jacob got back, she mused with a shiver of excitement as she climbed the slope to the house. The place was beginning to feel like home. She was glad Valarian had given her work to do, making her feel useful rather than like a permanent houseguest—or a broodmare brought in for Jacob to stud.

Of all the things they’d discussed over the past few days, the conception of a child wasn’t one of them. Akila kept doggedly pushing the prophecy from her mind and continuing to take her birth control pills. She wasn’t ready to become a mother. Not if there was any other way to solve the issue of Overton’s zealous vampire sect. Such political intrigue seemed very far away and hypothetical here in this blissful paradise. She knew she’d have to take it into account soon, but for now she was happy to let each pleasant day drift past.

She entered the house and went to the office she shared with Jacob. She sat at her desk, sparing a glance at the bank of windows with yet another stunning view of the ocean before turning her attention to the copy she was trying to write. The charity was called Living Space and it funded the construction of low-income housing. The current fundraiser was in full swing and it was her job to write updates on its progress for dissemination to the press, both traditional and online.

Words flew from her fingertips to pepper the screen like ants marching across a vast beach of white sand. It was an easy article to cobble together from the facts. The trick was to give it an interesting hook that would draw a casual browser to take the time to read about the program.

“Living large in small spaces,” she muttered, trying out a tagline.

“Working hard or hardly working?” Valarian quipped, making her shriek and nearly bolt out of her chair.

She swiveled to face him. “Don’t
do
that! You sneak around like a cat.”

He sauntered across the room like the feline in question and lounged on the corner of Jacob’s desk. “Ready to take a break?”

“Not really. I’m on a roll. Maybe in—” she checked her watch “—an hour?”

His brows shot up. “You’re making me wait now? What an industrious little bee you are.”

“All for you, boss. The work doesn’t get done on its own.”

Valarian gave an exaggerated sigh and rose. “Very well. But remember, all work and no play makes Akila a dull girl.”

She gave him a saucy smile. “We’ll see if you call me dull later when I have you begging for mercy.”

He returned her grin, clearly enjoying their silly banter as much as she, then he bent to give her a breath-stealing kiss before leaving her to her work.

Akila intended to spend only an hour writing, but when she checked the time again, almost three hours had passed. She’d gotten distracted by research and editing, trying to make this first assignment sparkle. There was no doubt she wanted to impress Valarian and assure him she was competent to fill the position he’d given her.

She leaned back in her comfy chair and stretched until her joints creaked, then reached for the mouse, intending to close down the various screens she’d opened. But a headline caught her attention. “New Jersey Congressman Ronald Wieser Dead” followed by a lead line: “Candidate Dale Overton expected to win his seat”. Her heart stuttered as she recognized the name of the vampire who wanted to rule the world, and she quickly clicked on the link to see the rest of the story.

The video clip narrated by a local anchorwoman showed Wieser’s body being wheeled from his home by EMTs. The cause of death was not yet released, but undisclosed sources suggested sixty-five-year-old Wieser had had a heart problem. The next clip was of Dale Overton answering questions in a town hall setting. He appeared confident and energetic, glowing with vitality, and there wasn’t a fang in sight. Just the sort of new blood the constituency was looking for. The story finished with a display of photos of several possible replacements for Wieser in the race, but it would be difficult for the party to regroup and promote another candidate prior to the election. Dale Overton was a shoo-in for Wieser’s seat.

Akila replayed the clip, listening hard to the reporter’s voice for any indication foul play was suspected even if such a suspicion could not yet be voiced by the media. But no, the woman said “heart issues” without a trace of skepticism.

Akila paused the clip on a shot of Overton’s face, studying the would-be overlord of the human race. Was it possible for this man to launch himself into the political stratosphere in one fell swoop, take the presidency within a handful of years and surround himself with his flunkies until government was run by vampires? Hell yes. It was extremely possible and seemed more plausible by the second.

Closing the screenshot, she rose from her chair. It seemed her interlude of playtime was over. She could no longer postpone her decision about fulfilling her karmic destiny. But she needed to talk to Valarian. This destiny was something she wasn’t quite ready to embrace.

She followed the aroma of cooking meat to the patio just outside the kitchen’s sliding doors. The area was sheltered by both a sun-proof canopy and the branches of a large tree, and Valarian stood grilling to his heart’s content even though the sun was nowhere near the horizon. For someone who was essentially flammable, he seemed to enjoy taking unnecessary risks with solar rays.

Other books

Dark Tempest by Manda Benson
The Mysterious Mr. Heath by Ariel Atwell
Botchan by Natsume Sōseki
Titus Groan by Mervyn Peake
Mark of Chaos by C.L Werner
Tennyson's Gift by Lynne Truss
The Walking by Little, Bentley
Heir Apparent by Vivian Vande Velde
Shadow of the Sheikh by Nina Bruhns