Vampire queen 8 bound.., p.53

Vampire Queen 8 - Bound by the Vampire Queen - Joey W Hill, page 53

 

Vampire Queen 8 - Bound by the Vampire Queen - Joey W Hill
 



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  To punish her, Lord Welles put her over his lap and gave her a stinging spanking. Then he placed three bal's of ice in her cunt and ass and kept them there with a chastity harness. Just like a vampire— as Jacob well knew—a third-marked servant wasn’t susceptible to the nerve damage that prolonged contact with ice could cause, so she was laid on the floor at his feet, to writhe and moan against her gag, her body flushed and torn between the pain and pleasure.

  They were all required to watch the punishment before they resumed, which just increased the stakes of the game. For that was what it was. Jacob realized his lady was playing a modified version of musical chairs. They would keep going until each servant reached his or her threshold and could hold back no longer. Then his or her vampire would get the pleasure of deciding on their punishment.

  Torrence was the next to succumb, surprisingly. It amused Jacob that it was Jessica’s small mouth— tight on his monster cock—that set him off. Helga tied him over a spanking bench placed among an artful arrangement of foliage. He was flogged with a barbed cat-o’nine wielded by his Mistress, then she offered his ass to two of the male vampires, Walton and Stewart.

  When they were done, she pushed a thick, vibrating dildo in the raw opening, strapping it in place so Torrence would continue to stay aroused in his helpless position, his kilt hiked up over his back.

  She kept him near her so she could run her hand over his taut ass at will , enjoy the straining thighs up close as she continued to place wagers with the other vampires as to which three would be the last standing.

  The rotation brought him Jessica again, but the male with him now was Vincent. Jacob had enough brain cel's left to know there was another agenda to play out here. Touching his lady’s mind, seeing her will in this, he needed nothing further than that to guide him.

  “I expect Jessica would like to extend an apology for impaling you,” he said. “But you owe me something as well.”

  Jessica was slick with perspiration, her eyes wild and feral, her pussy deep red and wet, a creature of sex and lust, but there was determination there as well. She was holding, though barely. Glancing at Mason, Jacob suspected he’d continued to employ all sorts of diabolical mind games to push her into climax. Knowing how resourceful the vampire was, and his effect on Jessica, he suspected the vampire was impressed as the rest of them with her stamina and resolve. While wanting to smack her ass for it.

  His lips twisted wryly. Though he respected Jessica’s stubbornness, he did owe Mason something for shooting her in the shoulder.

  “Jessica, bend forward and slide your hands around your calves, holding yourself in a folded position.”

  As she complied, her hair fell forward over her shoulders, the curve of her back and heart-shaped ass a pretty display. He knew she was competitive, but he’d been doing this longer, and he sure as hell knew a woman’s body. Jacob beckoned to a staff person standing by with a tray full of sexual aids and picked up a paddle. The Bad Girl cutout in the wood made his lips twist, but then he met Vincent’s gaze.

  “You'll use this on her, but when you’re done, you'll kneel, take me in your mouth and make me slick for your ass. Got it?”

  The new head servant fucking the previous one.

  The symbolism was strong, an underscore of the day’s events. Vincent recognized it, his handsome face resigned. But he was severely aroused, too, and Jacob was certain he could push the man into punishment at his Master’s hand. Vincent preferred males, and he couldn’t keep his gaze away from Jacob’s cock. Even though his grip tightened on the handle of the paddle, indicating he was going to relish dishing out a little pain.

  “Don’t go overboard,” Jacob advised, low. “You can make your point without being brutal about it.

  The humiliation is the reward here.”

  Jessica let out a shuddering breath. Jacob had noted no male servant had penetrated her, though Lord Stewart’s female servant had used a thick vibrator that almost sent the girl screaming into oblivion. Servants were a savvy lot. Plus, they received direction from their

  Masters and

  Mistresses, who perhaps understood the politics of not pushing the boundaries too much with Mason.

  Not tonight, at least.

  Stepping up so he stood beside Jessica, he slid his hand along her spine, soothing her. Her fingers tightened on her calves. “Easy, girl. It'll hurt, but it will equal the scales between you.” She’d staked a much more senior servant, and he knew this would ease any future tensions between them.

  His lady was amused at his understanding of the maze between politics and pleasure. Even among all the aroused bodies, her scent was a unique perfume. He ached to go to her, give her release.

  Keep proving it to me, Sir Vagabond. Fuck him like you’d like to fuck me.

  You’ve a much sweeter, softer ass, my lady.

  With the first slap of the paddle, a soft cry split from Jessica’s lips. Jacob was aware of the darkness of Mason’s gaze, knew that he’d perhaps chosen a bad path, because Mason’s dominance was more about deprivation than pain, and Jessica’s beautifully tattooed back, a tiger peering through a bamboo forest, overlaid a horrid set of long scars put there by her previous master.

  But Vincent showed he was no fool. He made the strikes hurt, satisfying his honor, but he recognized a submissive that responded to a certain level of pain.

  Jessica’s legs trembled, and when he lightly slapped her clit, widening her stance farther, she let out a strangled cry of unmistakable arousal.

  Twenty strikes, where bad girl was overlaid all over the sweet pale curves, and then Jacob called a halt to it.

  He guided Jessica down to her knees, used a gentle hand on the back of her neck to put her forehead to the floor, a resting submissive pose.

  “Put your hands behind your back and open your mouth,” he ordered Vincent. When Vincent complied, he guided his cock into the mouth of Belizar’s servant. He had to close his eyes, because he usually did when a male had hold of him, so he could imagine his lady’s mouth, though hers and Vincent’s were nothing alike. However, Vincent had undeniable skill's. Jacob put his hand on the close-cropped hair to hold him still, control his movements so he wouldn’t go off like a rocket.

  Fortunately, getting him slick didn’t take long. He pul ed back after only a few moments, turned Vincent so he was facing Jessica’s folded-over body. “Take your hips off your ankles, Jess,” he said, a quiet order. “Ass in the air.”

  She obeyed, though he saw her thighs tremble a little bit, but more from arousal than trepidation. He knew she trusted him. Vincent was well lubricated from previous groups, so the cocksucking had been psychological, underscoring the changing of the guard. Jacob drove in deep and hard, taking. He usually kept his lady in mind when having to fuck a male, because it was always more politics than pleasure for him. But there was a primal pleasure in the taking, the control, and he let Vincent feel that.

  The man grunted, his hands flexing on the floor between Jessica’s ankles. He was hanging on by a thread.

  “Put three of your fingers inside her ass, Vincent.

  Go easy.”

  The male was more than willing to do that, though he fumbled some, responding to the stimulation Jacob was inflicting upon him. The man’s ass was contracting hard on him and Jacob knew he was close.

  Fortunately, Jessica was also still well lubricated from Gideon’s earlier application of oil, so Vincent’s fingers slid in easy. When she made that low cry again, Jacob drove her onward with an order.

  “Squeeze down on him with every thrust, Jess. Make him feel you.”

  The contraction of the anal muscles affected the clit, made it spasm that much more quickly. As she moved to obey, he kept encouraging her, commanding her. “Squeeze him. Squeeze him hard.

  Every thrust. Don’t miss a single one. It’s your Master’s cock. Milk him dry.”

  Vincent let out his own moan as Jacob hit the spot he knew would be the servant’s downfall. Hell fire, he had an ass
tight as a virgin girl. Belizar was hung like a horse. Vincent probably felt split open when his Master fucked him. “Getting close there, aren’t you, Vincent?”

  The male cursed him, low, and Jacob bared his teeth in a feral grin. Jessica’s fingers scrabbled across the floor, and Jacob recognized the tiny, needy cries, growing in volume. The words,

  “Please… Master…”

  Mason’s eyes were fierce amber, his mouth set into a line. He wanted to punish her, because that was what would please him. Jessica was smart enough to already know it, but she also knew her begging would please him as well.

  “Squeeze him,” Jacob barked.

  Jessica was hurled over that cliff, her admirable attempt to hold back lost in the face of Jacob’s expertise and her own lack of experience. She came with a hard scream, her body bucking. Vincent grabbed at his own cock to massage himself furiously, directing the stream of semen toward the floor, away from Jessica. As he twisted away from the girl, Jacob pul ed out of him, dropped to one knee and gave Jessica a full completion. His hand closed over her clit, fingers massaging the rippling bud of skin, two other fingers dipping inside of her cunt to thrust, his thumb pressing on her anus. She shrieked, her cream gushing over his hand, a deep pleasure as he slid his other arm under her hips to give her some balance.

  He helped her fold all the way to the floor, writhing and convulsing. Vincent was breathing hard, still on both knees next to them. It took both of them a few minutes to wind down, to finish out the climax. A few more to collect their wits again, somewhat. But when they did, Jacob brushed his knuckles over Vincent’s shoulder, giving him a nod and glance to show they were square. In return, he received a deferential gesture, devoid of malice. Belizar’s servant also touched

  Jessica on the hip, a similar communication.

  Good. He was proud of himself for keeping the politics in play despite the fact his cock felt like a fucking aluminum baseball bat. With one word, his lady could probably make him spew all over himself.

  You never cease to be a charmer, Sir Vagabond.

  His lips twisting, he lifted Jessica in his arms. She was still shuddering, her skin so sensitive that even his carrying touch had her making soft cries and writhing.

  He brought her to Mason, keeping his eyes down as he settled her between her Master’s feet, her naked back braced against the male vampire’s leg.

  Mason slid his fingers into her hair, tipped back her head so she had to look into his face. She’d cried during her climax, and her mouth was parted and moist. It had been difficult, but she’d done it. That triumph was in her eyes, as well as the heartache and past pain that had made it so important to her.

  “You disobeyed me, Jessica.”

  When she reached up with a shaking hand, he closed his hand over her wrist. She touched him anyway, eyes adoring. “Yes, Master. Please forgive me. P-punish me as you see fit, please.”

  “Later, habiba.” His tone softened, his eyes reflecting some of the same pain and suffering, mixed with pride and love. He gave her a kiss then, his mouth a brief tease on hers. “When we are alone, I will torment you in ways that make this seem like child’s play.”

  Jacob returned to his position to find only three of them were still standing. Somewhat. Him, Gideon and—surprisingly—Debra. The servants who’d lost were variously engaged now, each the center of one or more vampires’ attentions, the after-dinner play turned into a sexual bacchanalia. It made the heat in the room even closer, made it difficult for Jacob to look at anything but his lady. Her lips were parted, eyes that glowing green color like a cat hunting in the moonlight. But she ignored him, making him harder.

  “You may return to your Master,” she told Debra, then glanced at Gideon, a faint smile playing on her tempting lips. “And to your Mistress. Well done.” Gideon dropped to his knees next to Anwyn, sitting in a nearby chair. As she slid a hand around his neck, a Mistress’s fierce demand was in her gaze. Though her voice was soft, Jacob heard her clearly enough. “Daegan says he wants you to pleasure my pussy, make me come. When we go back to the room, he will fuck you and finally—if you’ve pleased me—he'll let you come.” Gideon put his hands on either arm of the chair, caging her as he captured her mouth in a demanding kiss that showed her all he was feeling.

  But when she pushed him back, his broad back curved, his palms bracing himself on the floor between her sexy stilettos as he worked himself beneath her snug skirt, into the dark fragrant valleys between her shapely thighs. She threw her head back, sable hair fanning out over the fabric of the chair. As he obviously made contact, burying his face in her pussy, the sounds of licking and suckling her reached Jacob’s ears. It made him want to do like Vincent, wrap his hand around the fucking tree branch of his erection, give the aching some relief, but he’d hold out forever if it meant his lady would do it instead.

  To all appearances cool and remote, she emitted that molten heat beneath, those jade eyes fastened on his. When he reached her, he swept his gaze down before he dropped to a knee before her in the winged-back chair. “How may I serve your pleasure, my lady?”

  “You will serve it in our chambers. Follow me.” They left the atrium, passing out of sight of those left behind, though it probably little mattered, since they were involved in their own pleasure. Once they made that first corner, Jacob caught her arm, whipped her around and pressed her hard to the wall, devouring her mouth with his own. Her arms slid around him, her hips lifting to push against his. Since he was naked, she was rubbing herself against his bare cock, but the beaded fabric of her skirt was a rough and frustrating barrier. It was all part of the pleasurable cruelty, and he dragged it out, giving her every bit of his need in that kiss, feeling the dampness of her cunt through the cloth, the stiffness of her nipples, the strong clutch of her arms, all that bountiful hair tangling over his fingers. One heel dug hard into the back of his calf, her nails scoring his back.

  Put me down, Jacob, and follow me to our room.

  He did, and saw her eyes were fierce, wild, her mouth wet with his. She led the way, the sway of her hips driving him insane, so that he dared the insolence of cupping one silk-clad buttock. She sent him a warning look beneath those mink lashes, but it was pure tease now, a predator allowing the prey to toy with her. He was fine with that, because he sensed her mood, what she needed, wanted, and it matched his mood perfectly.

  When they got into the room, he attacked again, sliding an arm around her waist and another under her legs, lifting her off her feet. She twisted free and, in a flash, had shoved him hard against the wall, face-first, his cock mashed uncomfortably against the rough stone.

  “Who do you serve, Jacob?”

  “You, my lady. Always you.” Her fingers teased his rim, and he fought her, to no avail. Her strength was at peak form, and he no longer had the ability to overpower her. So he strangled on a curse as those sharp nailed fingers slowly glided down his rectum.

  “No… I don’t want to come that way.”

  “But whose wishes matter? Have you forgotten?”

  “Yours, my lady. But let me fuck you. Let me spill my seed inside your cunt.”

  “Such language.” She pressed up behind him, letting him feel every curve as those fingers continued to play. She scraped her fangs over his mark. “Though you might be the alpha servant now, you still answer to your Mistress.”

  “Always. My lady.” He closed his eyes tight, muscles straining against the stone.

  “Then why are you still fighting me?”

  “Because tonight you want me to fight.” She chuckled then, a sultry sound. “Clever, clever knight.”

  Suddenly, she released him. When he turned, she was ten steps away, in the center of the chamber.

  The look in her eyes still ed him, made the chamber itself seem suddenly quiet, the air filled with a sense of silent expectation. “Perhaps it is the Crusades again.” Her voice was a whisper. “You are part of an invading army. You are merely a foot soldier, a poor knight. Yet you breach the w
alls of the sultana, and for the next few moments, she is all yours, before your generals or kings find her. For this moment, she is your treasure.”

  The dress molded every curve, and it made his mouth dry, but he saw the tenor of it change in her mind. Her fantasy merged with the reality from long ago. “There you stand,” she continued softly. “Dusty, bloody. Sir Knight. And my heart opens in a way I didn’t know it could.”

  He swallowed, but instead of taking her to that other time, he brought her back to her fantasy. “The sultana is perfect, disdainful of me,” he said, in the same low voice. “But as I look at her, I see her tremble, just a bit. I watch her press her lips together, moist, and I know she could be mine. If only I reach out to take.”

  Her mouth curved. Power emanated from her.

  Every inch his queen. He moved forward. When he reached her, he dropped to his knees, looking up at her face for a long moment from that reverent position. The slope of her abdomen, rise of her breasts, the line of her hip and thigh, so close. He’d been with her when she’d given birth to Kane, had seen those thighs tremble, her stomach contract, her throat arch back in a cry of pain but of determination as well.

  Bending forward, he brought his lips to her insole, her ankle. When she shifted, he was ready. The foot that would have planted itself on his chest and shoved him back slid under his left arm. He caught it there, tugged the other one out from under her. When she fell to her back, trusting, he used a servant’s speed. Her skull fell into his waiting palm, his body stretched over hers, one knee between her thighs.

  Lifting her chin, she regarded him with sparkling eyes. “Clever knight,” she repeated.

 
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