The Vampire Queen's Servant(20)

There was a unique type of alpha who could fight through it, who had the capacity to find the pleasure on the other side of pain. She'd recognized it in him easily, such that the rough edge sent shivers of pleasure through her body.

Lifting a hand, she touched the darkness that held the shape of him as if she were touching him. "That will be up to you, Jacob. But I've never trusted anyone. Not even Thomas. Until the end, when he sacrificed his life for me."

When he drew in a breath, she discovered another thing Thomas hadn't shared, but that didn't surprise her. "That, too, is a story for another night. Besides which, I keep my human servant too busy to laze around in bed with his Mistress during the daylight hours." Though the mental picture was far too pleasing. "Where did the accent come from? The Irish."

"My parents were from Ireland. I was born and raised here, but being around them and my aunt and uncle… well, I picked it up. I guess it was something like knowing two languages. I could switch between them both, and sometimes the accent feels more comfortable to me. It made me feel closer to memories of them. For the first three years after their death, I spoke that way all the time. It also went over well at the Faire, so I guess it comes automatically now, in certain situations."

"I like it, too. The way it comes and goes." Like a lover's fingers gliding up her spine when they weren't expected. "Give me something about Gideon, since I'm already disposed to dislike him."

"In terms offeree of will, you two are matching brick walls." His tone was dry. "But because of him I saw you for the very first time."

When he shifted as much as his bindings allowed, she noticed his cock had dropped to a semierect state. She ran a hand over her hip, idly cupped her breast to play with the nipple, and watched his organ stiffen, lengthen. Heard him stifle a groan.

"When did you see me for the first time?"

She smiled at his whispered curse, but he answered her. "I trained and worked with Gideon into my early twenties. College wasn't for me. Never did take to the idea of having someone else teach me what I could pick up a book and learn for myself, making my own impressions. We were at a bullfight down in Mexico, because he was on the trail of a male vampire who liked blood sports, as many vampires seem to do."

"Mmm."

"You were there. With Thomas and…"

"Rex." She whispered the name, not wanting to call his image into the room. She didn't want Jacob saying his name, as if it would bring harm to him, like the calling of a curse.

"He seemed very into it. Very amused at how you weren't."

Lyssa's gaze rose. While he was obviously stimulated by her body, Jacob had his clear blue gaze focused on her face in a way that told her he saw the woman behind the seductive pose. The woman he'd seen that day. "When you got up to leave, he caught hold of your arm. From a distance, even to someone close by, that's all it would have looked like. A man grasping a woman's arm. He never stopped smiling, but he broke your forearm, just crushed the bone and it gave. You went white, but you didn't sit back down. You stared at each other, a stalemate. I remember Thomas was completely expressionless, but something vibrating from him said if he could have called the bull up into the stands he'd have staked Rex on those horns."

Lyssa turned her attention toward the ceiling. She had a mural painted there. A moonlit night, shadows of clouds chasing the full, pale beauty of the orb. Thomas's stars gleamed among the images. "It's difficult for mortals to understand relationships between vampires," she said at last. "He was almost invincible. There was no move he couldn't anticipate. He'd read almost every book I'd heard of, and he never slept well. It was as if his mind was constantly accelerating. What did your brother say?"

"He told me it wasn't our business. That you were a vampire, too. As if that made a difference."

"It does, Jacob." She ran her fingertips up her throat, tracing the arteries, feeling the scrape of her own nails. "We never did finish our manicure. I have what you need here. You can finish it tomorrow night."

"Whatever my lady wishes." The tone of his voice indicated he was frustrated by her unwillingness to say more. She could ignore that, of course. But something made her want to give him something, just a piece.

She turned back on her hip, one hand draped on it so his gaze could not help but be distracted by where her fingers rested, inches from the folds of her sex beneath the lace. It allowed her the pleasure of looking at him without that too perceptive gaze on her face. Her Irish knight had fine definition in his arms and across his stomach. She'd likely have him shave off all his body hair except on his skull, if she kept him. But she wasn't displeased by the thatch of hair gleaming on his broad chest. She liked the idea of stroking through its softness, tugging. Plus, he'd already proven the worth of his beard and moustache. She didn't go back to his eyes, preferring the sense of physical stimulation only.

"Not all vampires are sexual dominants, but most are. We have very strong sexual compulsions, and we live by a stringent pecking order. You maintain your place on the ladder by proving you can repel any threat to it. Rex had wanted me since we first met. I knew we were meant to be together, for many reasons. But we never could reconcile that part of our relationship. I would not become his slave, for I knew the depths of his cruelty and his need. If I had ever relented, he would have killed me, for he'd have had no use for me. But because I never did…"

She'd become the enduring passion in his life. The one thing he'd loved, as much as he understood what love was. She'd thought loving her could help him become the man she'd sensed he was capable of being. A memory rose in her mind, of Rex sprinkling rose petals over her bare body. While she'd slept, he'd gathered them, every rose from miles around it seemed. She'd wakened from a dream into a snowstorm of petals while he'd stood over her, showering her in them. Pale pink, white, bloodred…

When he'd sunk between her parted knees, she'd scooped up two handfuls and poured them over his head, watching them tumble over his shoulders. He'd looked at her in what for Rex had been a vulnerable moment. Wondering at her, not understanding her. So different from himself but in that blink of time content to know she accepted him. No doubt, no challenge. When she exposed her throat in invitation, he sank his fangs into her, his body penetrating her as well. She'd wrapped herself around him, holding him. Though she'd known it was a fleeting moment, the capriciousness of time was something she understood and accepted as well. Hours later, he created a crown of the thorns and made her wear it so he could lick the blood that trickled down her forehead off her cheeks, her lips.

There'd been only one creature powerful enough to kill him. She had.

"My lady?"

"I'm tired, Jacob. No more stories for now. But… why didn't you and your brother hunt us that day?"

"We were there for another vampire. It was odd, though." Jacob paused. "He said he would hunt Rex in time, but he would never hunt you."

"Because I'm a woman?" She was amused at the thought. "That kind of foolishness must be a family trait."

"No. He's killed female vampires before. He didn't say why, just made sure I saw you so I'd recognize you were off-limits. Once I saw you… I knew that would never be a problem. I could never cause you harm, my lady."

Her attention moved deliberately over his bindings, underscoring his helplessness with a mocking look. "I agree. It's also a good thing Rex is gone. He would have killed your brother with as much effort as blinking."

A muscle flexed in Jacob's jaw and he shifted his hips, giving her the pleasure of watching his cock and testicles move with his body while bound in the uncomfortable jewelry. "I wouldn't underestimate Gideon."

"I don't. There was no overestimating Rex. Whatever you believe he was capable of, he was. Plus far more."



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Chapter Fourteen





The dampening effect of her mockery and the serious turn of their conversation gave him little relief. The purr of her voice rubbed like soft fur against his cock, which made that contraption she'd put on him even more excruciating. As she lay on the bed not ten feet away, the flickering candlelight reflected on her nipples, made the cleft of her cunt shift behind the pattern of her nightgown like the shadow of an elusive creature.

He'd never been forced to submission by a woman, never gotten aroused by it as she'd made him respond. At least to himself, he was forced to admit the thing imprisoning his cock made him hard mainly because she'd wanted to put it on him. It made him think of how she'd described the pleasure of slowly binding a servant, letting him feel his gradual descent into helplessness. The clasp of the cock harness kept the image of her hand's there. The fascinated desire in her eyes ran through his mind, over and over.

She was a witch, sorceress, Medusa, vampire. He suspected he'd seen only the surface layers of a woman with more faces than the thoughts wrestling in his mind.

He'd never cared for feeling trapped. He supposed no one did, but to keep the frissons of panic down, he reminded himself this was his choice, that he wanted to be here.

Throughout his training with Thomas, the servant had used the word defenses. You must have no defenses with her. You must lower all your defenses to be a servant. Jacob thought he'd understood. But he hadn't. Whatever his expectations of this past night and the months of planning and preparation, it had far exceeded them. She'd challenged him, infuriated him, roused him more than any woman, real or imagined, ever had. She'd elicited protective feelings in him, erratic waves of fierce loyalty. Jacob realized Thomas's grueling training had been the same as that inflicted on a grunt in basic training. Grilled until he knew how to respond to conditions the monk couldn't have anticipated. Like learning what it meant to be a sex slave.