Nudity in the dressing area of the circus was one thing. This open carnality was something entirely different and new to him. His lady had known that, fully exploited it tonight. He'd responded to her challenge because it wasn't in his nature to back down, but he found himself somewhat shell-shocked to think about what he'd done. How aroused he'd been by it. By his lady's pleasure in his performance.
You know what a sexual submissive is, Jacob? He remembered her words, uncomfortably.
"It's been a pleasure, Irishman." A slight smile crossed Seanna's face as she drew his attention back to the present. She ran her fingertips over the flush that had risen on his neck at her bald words. "I fully expect you to be eaten by wolves before I see you again, but I hope I'm wrong."
As she walked away, her lush hips swayed with such natural sensuality he knew it wasn't feigned. Jacob bent, picked up his clothing. When he looked up, he found his lady standing in the doorway.
The length of the room was between them, the images of what had just happened here. Crockery shattered on the floor, swept there by his temper. He couldn't think of anything to say. Anything he wanted to say.
He gave a clumsy, short bow, eager to head for the kitchen and blessed privacy.
"You think you'll ever have privacy again, Jacob?" she asked softly.
A muscle ticked along his jaw. He felt his teeth grind together. "I have what my Mis—my lady sees fit for me to have." Damn it.
"Tell me, is that what bothers you the most?" she asked after a pause that made the air in the room feel exponentially warmer. "The fact that heeding my will made you harder than you've ever been in your life, or that your cock wouldn't release without my command?"
Maybe what bothers me the most is how you keep refusing to admit what you really want, my lady.
With a curl of his lip that could only be called a snarl, he turned on his heel and headed for the kitchen, leaving her alone in the dining area. He'd intended the insult, but knew she wouldn't call him on it, because they both knew she'd won that round.
The answer to her question had been painfully clear, so that not even a mental response had been necessary.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-nine
Their guests left at a courteous time for vampires, half past three in the morning. It had been a successful event, all her formal intentions accomplished, including teaching her servant another vital aspect of the role he was expected to play. He'd exceeded her expectations. Indeed, probably everyone's. Brian had learned a good deal as well. She suspected Debra would be reaping the benefits of that again before the pull of dawn claimed him. He was a handsome boy who tended to approach a new experience with thorough intensity.
So why did she stand here in her bedchamber, feeling empty? She was in the lower one, but she'd left the passageway to it open. She hadn't commanded Jacob to come to her, though.
When she last saw him, he'd been finishing up with the catering group. As she stood before the fire warming her hands, turning them over and over, watching the firelight play on her palms, her knuckles, she occasionally reached out with her mind to locate him.
In the kitchen and dining room, helping with cleanup. Then out back, giving Bran and his pack scraps. The smile that curved her lips felt like a stretched wound as he helped the all-female catering staff get the crates of supplies back to their van. He had such an easy way with women. She was sure he was unintentionally giving them all sorts of fantasies. Any one of them would take him to her bed with little encouragement. Probably two or three at once. She should probably push him that way, allow him to release his frustration. Give him some time and space to get his mind around what had happened tonight.
She tried to avoid dipping into anything more than the surface layers of his mind. But as she watched the women make any excuse to brush against him, touch his hands when they transferred the crates, she felt his politeness coupled with a complete absence of interest. Nothing toward them. But as she risked it, went deeper, she found there was something explosive below the nothing. It scalded her body, warming it even more than the aura of the flame flickering shadows over her hands.
The force of restless, dark desire and the simmering lust had only one objective. Her. With each moment he drew closer to finishing his tasks for the evening, it was building. The anticipation of it expanded proportionately in herself.
She thought of him taking Seanna and bringing Debra to climax, meeting the challenge before him with an erotic creativity she'd not realized he had. Laying Debra out on the table as he held Seanna from behind, his pale body against Seanna's dark skin, his fingers wet from Debra's cunt as he took them to his lips, tasted… During all of it, he had rarely let his eyes leave his Mistress's face.
She shuddered, making herself stay by the fire. Waiting to see what he would do with all that lust mixed with anger. Not once when buried in either woman had that singular focus on her wavered. He'd climaxed with her image firmly before him, and she knew it had been to prove something to her. Something that rose up in her now, tearing at her with savage claws, telling her there was no way in hell she would push him toward another woman's arms. Not now. Maybe not ever.
She tried but couldn't brush it off as the obsession of a vampire with her new servant. She'd never experienced this feeling with one before. Not in all her long life. Not even with Rex. He'd called her Mistress…
The grip of that remarkable realization paralyzed her as she felt him enter the bedroom above. He'd see that hazy outline to this chamber, beckoning him closer to her.
She closed her eyes, a soft gasp of response leaving her as he didn't hesitate, didn't even pause to wonder if he needed permission. Linked with his mind now as if she was the one unable to break the link, she knew he didn't give a damn. All that easy courtesy had vanished, and he had one intent, growing with every stride down the illusory steps.
She didn't turn from the fire, a straight, indifferent pose. Even though his approach was swift, even though she felt his intention as hard as an urgent cock in her hand, she was not entirely prepared for the way he came up behind her. His hands closed on her shoulders, slid down and increased the tension of his hold so her arms were drawn back. Her fingertips grazed his thighs, planted on either side of her, the hardness of his cock pressed against her hips. She sought a grip in the soft stuff of his slacks as he pulled her back against him and released one of her hands to grip her hair, tilt her head and claim .her lips.
Keep your hands on my legs.
She sucked in a trembling breath as he savaged her mind with the command the way he was savaging her mouth. He knew she didn't have to obey, that he didn't have the strength to make her obey. And yet… she sensed the certainty in his mind that he could seduce her to his will and would, by God.
She thought of those long, clever fingers deep in Debra's pussy, her cries as she writhed. Brian had seized her throat, bending down to suckle her breasts, overwhelmed by the tableau such that he had to be a part of it. Jacob had taken them all to the edge of the cliff. But all along, his eyes had promised she was the only one he intended to take over it with him.
She couldn't keep up, his teeth biting her lips, mouth sucking the air out of hers, his tongue stroking and caressing it as deeply as he would caress her cunt. When his hand closed over her throat, a growl broke from her lips, vibrated against his. His other hand left hers on his thigh and pushed under the waistband of her skirt. Seizing a handful of her panties in the front, he rubbed the silky fabric against her crotch, making her writhe as the back dug deeper into her cleft, bringing her up to her toes. She wanted…
Show me how he fucked you. The way you liked it best.
The question was so shockingly intimate she didn't think to block the image that flashed through her mind until it was too late.
The answer evoked a specific memory. Rex, pushing her down on her hands and knees before the fire. He'd massaged her with oil, leaving no expanse of skin uncovered until she'd gleamed in the firelight like a creature of water. He'd even run it through her hair, slicking it down on her skull. Holding a hand on her neck to press her cheek to the rug, he'd slid into her, teased her until her hands stretched out, tugging at the long hairs of the carpet. Her whole body quivered with every stroke, aching for release. He told her he loved her that night, a break in his voice. His hold had been ruthless, his touch gentle. He'd shattered her with his merciless tenderness.
Jacob stilled, his breath on her temple. His fingers rested on her mound still, making soft strokes over her clit, which increased the bittersweet yearning. As he nuzzled her hair, she saw him struggling to get his mind around the revelation. "You did love him."
"Yes. I did. Very much. Despite all the wisdom of the world that told me I was a fool for it." She pressed her temple to his upper arm as his hand continued to hold her throat. She took comfort in that touch, his hair brushing her eyelashes as she closed her eyes. "You can love someone whose cruelty you could not bear otherwise," she murmured. "Every time you leave, you think you won't want back into hell, yet there's something about those fires you miss. As if there was a secret to them you never truly understood. But you wanted to understand it, enough to burn for the comprehension."
His hand lifted and slipped inside the panties to move down, making her feel every millimeter slide of his fingertips as he reached the clean soft skin of her mound, her clit hood and even lower, taking possession of her labia, positioning his knuckles on either side of the clit, applying a knowledgeable pressure that made her moan quietly.