21 Shades of Night, page 437
'Don't. Stop.' The whispered plea inside her head was frantic.
'Oh, I don't intend to,' he said, deliberately misunderstanding her, and without warning his hand clamped around her sex. She rose into him and gasped. It appeared that her body was once again under her control. Oh, who was she kidding? The vamp played her better than Hendrix played the guitar. He knew when to stroke, when to cajole and, more importantly, when to strike.
'My goodness, you're not wearing any panties,' he exclaimed with a devilish gleam in his eyes. 'Why you wanton little...' Martinet didn't finish his last word. Now that Violetta had regained the use of her voice, she was about to use it at the top of her lungs. Unfortunately, Martinet was once again one step ahead of her and his face rapidly descended towards hers. The scream that had been bursting to escape just seconds ago curdled in her throat. Her body pulled against the ropes. Not to get away from him, as it should have, but to move closer. She wanted those talented lips on hers. She wanted his hands on her fevered naked flesh and already, she craved the intense pleasure he could so easily bestow upon her. Covering her lips with his own, he breathed her in. She, on the other hand, couldn't breathe at all. His hands were running up her arms, tracing delicate, rambling patterns on her flesh, while his tongue might have been forked like a dragon's, for it spilled sparkling flames of fire wherever it landed. The ropes rubbed tightly against her wrists and ankles, but she didn't give a damn. She drank him in whole and writhed sinuously underneath his body, begging for more of the same.
'Isn't it hideously embarrassing to be this attracted to your jailor?' His lips left hers with a soft pop and for a moment she just blinked in surprise. Her body was still pulling against her bonds, trying to get ever closer to her talented antagonist. It was horribly humiliating. That alone made her furious.
'Stockholm syndrome's a bitch,' she whispered. 'And isn't it better to do everything you say? If I don't, you'll just make me obey, so it makes little difference.' Only her eyes, the true windows to the soul, corrected her statement. They knew differently. And so did he.
'The dress needs to go, darling. I want to see you naked, exposed, and vulnerable. It's time to stop thinking and start feeling. I'm going to feed off your body and then I'm going to feed off your emotions. Not only are you fresh blood, but you're fresh entertainment and that's been lacking in my household for some years now.' He gathered the hem of her dress in his two hands and gave an effortless tug. The feeble material had no choice but to split in two, and she was afraid she knew that feeling all too well.
Her head was telling her that this was the worst possible thing that could ever happen to her. Her body was telling her something else entirely. One look at his beautiful face, an angelic face that disguised the heart of a demon, and she was lost. She needed to focus. Distract the bastard. Oh, and while you're at it, get a grip and stop dribbling. He'd tied her to his bed for chrissakes, and here she was anticipating the main meal. What the hell was wrong with her? What had he done to her now?
'Is this the only way you can get girls, Martinet? You have to tie 'em up, huh?' She gave him a look of disgust and rattled the ropes that held her arms for effect. 'You need therapy.'
In response, Martinet shredded her lilac dress to bits in one smooth yank of his hands. Tiny pieces of torn fabric shot up in a rush of air and then proceeded to float down slowly, covering the bed in a shimmering confetti of colour. Gently parting the rest of the frothing fabric away from her body, he carefully displayed her breasts and traced a slow path over her concave stomach. 'Not bad, I suppose. Not as beautiful as some, but most certainly not the worst I'll have bedded.' He reached to caress the globe of her right breast, covered in a camisole of fine purple satin that hid nothing. He squeezed the tip of her nipple and laughed when she mewled.
'You didn't answer my question,' she growled in response, turning her face to the side, hoping he didn't examine too closely the stain of heat that was rushing up her chest.
Martinet grabbed hold of his sweater, raised both hands, and drew it slowly over his head. He then threw it across the room. Sitting down on the side of the bed, he quickly removed his footwear and took off his watch, but Violetta couldn't have said what shoes he wore or repeated whatever words he was now directing at her. She found herself absorbed in the hard planes of his chest, the delicate thatch of hair that covered him in fine swirling patterns, and the sharp dip of his hips. When he began to speak at double his original volume, Violetta shook her head as if to clear it of the dark malaise that had fallen over her, but it was of little use. Monsieur Martinet was moving in for the kill. His naked chest was coming towards her at speed and his hands had already tangled in her hair.
'I'll repeat myself for the third time, shall I?' His voice was little more than a whisper against her ear, but she caught the words this time, because he pummelled them into her brain. 'We both know I don't have to tie women up to bed them. For the most part, they throw themselves at me and I take advantage of the fact. This face and body gives me extraordinary privileges that I misuse at every opportunity, to my own advantage. You are not immune to these charms, my dear. The only reason you are tied to my bed is because you'd kill me without a shred of conscience at any given opportunity. Actually, that's not entirely true. I love kinky sex. We can go into detail about that later, though.' His lips twitched. 'Any last requests, darling?' His mouth hovered inches above hers and she knew he was about to begin a war that could only end in death and disaster.
'Please, let me go.' When she moved her lips to talk, his were so close that they touched for the briefest instant. She recoiled in shock, trying to bury herself back down into the mattress, but there was nowhere to go.
'Will you promise to stop killing vampires if I agree to do so?' He enunciated each word carefully and the imprint of his lips, over and over again on hers, made her body ache for something it did not fully recognise.
Violetta's first response was to lie, but he'd bargained on that and the falsehood remained wedged in her throat. No amount of pushing on her part could force it out into the open. So much so, she nearly choked on the single word. Finally giving up, she closed her eyes in defeat and muttered, 'No.'
'You've got a lot to learn around these parts,' he said, using one finger to peel a single eyelid open, giving her no choice but to look at him. He traced a soft path over her eyebrow as he spoke and it should have made her shudder in revulsion, but instead a fierce heat spiralled everywhere. Trying to avoid the hypnotic blue eyes that were trying to bore a path into her head, she eventually discovered it was no use. He held her in place, silently and effortlessly.
'The first lesson is pretty simple. You can never lie to your master.' The finger continued to smooth the hairs over the arch of her brow. His hands were long, beautiful, and noticeably warmer than a human's. 'The second lesson is equally clear-cut,' he continued. 'You must obey every order I give you. We both know you'll be testing that one to the limit, but you will learn from your mistakes. There are consequences for every single action you take. You're intelligent. You'll soon figure it out.'
Violetta began to voice one of the million or so questions now buzzing around her head, but it was cut off before a single syllable could be pronounced. His lips and tongue were inside her and she was lost in an inferno of almost painful desire. Her body ignited in all the wrong places. The tips of her nipples pointed and swelled, her lips grew thick and heavy under his onslaught, and between her legs there were waterworks of the grandest order. She could feel fluid leaking down her inner thighs and she closed them tightly, mortified.
'That's normal,' came the voice of the beast inside her head. 'It just means that your body wants mine. It's your way of preparing yourself for what's to come.'
Violetta had no idea how he could articulate words, let alone plan out a sentence. She was a mess. Her body was whirling at the speed of light, her throat was dry, her heart pounding, and everything was reacting strangely.
'You forget I've done this many times before,' came his inner voice, as his head angled sideways for a deeper kiss. There was a soft scrape of stubble against her cheek and she moaned against him. 'That's it, Princess, give yourself up to me. I'll take good care of you.' She didn't believe him. The man was poison and the smallest drop was deadly.
His tongue stroked a sinuous path inside her mouth, and the velvet caress had her body arching for more. His weight pressed into her, dragging her deep into the mattress, but the hard rub of his cock between her thighs was incredible. She felt everything. Every sense was heightened and the smallest touches were amplified to an extraordinary degree. A single finger caressed the underside of her breast, raising a path of goose-bumps in its wake. The satin sheets rubbed against her legs as she squirmed underneath him, imparting a single spark of static. Ropes chaffed gently against her wrists, but the tension in her spread-eagled body was so intense it had her gasping. Feeling the strands of his long fine hair as they brushed over her cheek, she moaned heavily as he angled his mouth for another onslaught.
They were the least of her worries. The friction of the hard length of him, rubbing against her naked sex, had her almost insane with longing. His hands cupping her breasts and rolling her nipples in his fingers was one of the most amazing sensations she had yet to experience. She could feel a steep mountain of pleasure building inside her body and it desperately wanted to escape - it just couldn't quite work out how.
He finally broke free of her mouth and his voice was a little more ragged around the edges than usual. 'You're such a responsive little thing. I've barely touched you and yet you're nearly creaming the house down already.' Martinet groaned as she moved sharply against him, her hips bucking upward.
As soon as the movement of him grinding against her had stopped and the contact was lost, Violetta's eyes sprang open. She was angry and mostly for reasons she could not fully fathom. There was a few seconds' pause as she gathered up her venom. Then she let it explode. 'What do you mean, barely touched me? You're all over me, you monster!'
'Oh, Violetta, I've barely started. I'm still clothed and my tongue has touched nothing more exotic than your beautiful, if somewhat petulant, little mouth. Let's just say it has much grander aspirations. I want to taste all of you and after I've tasted, I intend to feel. What do I want to know? Well, let's see.' He ran his mouth down the curve of her jaw and poured tiny, hot, wet little kisses down the line of her throat. 'How soft you are. How tight you are. Are you responsive to a light touch or a heavy one? Do you like pain, and if so, a little or a lot? These are only some of the things I intend to find out about you, chérie. There is one thing that will become apparent within a very short timescale, though. Whether you will allow yourself to be bent and moulded into a different shape, under my strict tutelage, or whether you will break and shatter. Odds are an even fifty-fifty, in my opinion. One moment you appear as delicate and ethereal as a butterfly, but in the next, I see the eyes of a killer. I wonder who will win?' He planted a damp kiss where her breastbone dipped, right at the base of her neck.
Violetta couldn't stop herself from squirming under the torrent of kisses he was raining down upon her. He had an unfair advantage in this game. He was able to move. She was but a mere pawn to be played or sacrificed at will. It was a scary thought and one she did not wish to dwell on. 'The killer,' she spat out angrily as her body rose to meet yet another taste of his feathery lips. The annoying man chuckled in response as his head moved lower, towards the valley of her beasts and, hooking a finger underneath the almost transparent fabric of her camisole, he tugged sharply. The flimsy thing fell apart in his hands and he slid the material to either side of her with a look of penetrating hunger on his face.
'Maybe, but excuse me if I'm not entirely convinced just yet, chérie.' His eyes did not connect with hers as he spoke. They were glued to the twin orbs of pert flesh in front of him. 'You are so very beautiful, far too beautiful to be a deliverer of death, my dear.' His mouth swooped down to suckle at a dusky pink peak and as his tongue laved, and his teeth gently grazed her areola, Violetta nearly shot off the bed, only to have the ropes springboard her straight back down to the mattress.
'You already know that is not the case,' she bit out, somehow, through gasps of tormented pleasure. 'Gilles, Alastair, Rogere, Celeste...' And suddenly she could speak no more. His teeth had clamped around the sensitive point of a nipple and he bit down, hard. She had to clamp her jaw together to prevent herself from screaming.
'Do not try my patience, chérie,' he said darkly, releasing her now brilliant-red nub from his mouth. 'I have the power to make your life worse than any hell you can imagine. I am systematically going to strip away every shred of your being and rebuild you to my own personal design. You will be the perfect slave. From cooking to cleaning, from satisfying my thirst for blood to my cravings for sex, you will obey me in all matters and you will watch your tongue.'
His hand dived under her backside and gripped it fiercely. The scream she had been bottling up erupted from her, and there was no stopping it. His fingernails had buried themselves in one of his earlier raw pink stripes and the pain had her crawling inside herself. There was a slithering sensation all over her lower legs, which had her eyes pouring out of their sockets to find that the rope had turned into twisting black snakes and was unravelling from her ankles in one fluid move. She recoiled and her head spun. Martinet grabbed both her ankles together in one hand and began bending them forward, towards her head. No amount of struggling on her part could stop the motion, and she found her bottom quickly thrust out for his intimate perusal. His spare hand ran over the earlier marks he had made and she squawked in protest.
'Don't like that, hmm? Too bad, because you're going to like this even less.' Straightening out his free hand, so that his fingers were all in line and his thumb tucked away neatly to the side, he raised it behind him... and let it fly. Violetta, in her newly uncomfortable and horribly humiliating position, watched on aghast.
When the smack connected, it was not as hard as she had feared, but it still smarted a great deal. Four or five spanks later and she decided she might have to rethink that. He was building the heat up slowly but surely, and her earlier stripes were incredibly sensitive whenever his hand caught them.
'Feel those, do we?' He gave her a look of dark, male satisfaction and smiled as his hand connected with a sharp thwack once again. 'Repeat after me, Princess,' he said, giving her a look of piercing disdain, 'I will watch my tongue in my master's presence. You can take as long as you like, but my hand won't stop until I hear those words from you.' As if to indicate he meant business, another heavy smack landed on the seat of her buttocks.
Violetta decided she'd rather swallow crude oil than repeat those words out loud. If he wanted her to call him 'master', he would need to employ stronger tactics, for she would bestow that particular word to no man alive.
'Isn't it awfully lucky that I'm dead then, chérie?' Another hot blow landed on her rump and the heat was building to an intensely uncomfortable level. His blue eyes had a look of utter contempt in them, and she quailed under his gaze. For some reason, she had an instinctive urge to obey him, even when every brain cell roared at her to stand her ground.
A few more spanks from his sturdy hands and her body began to shake. 'I will watch my tongue in my master's presence,' he repeated after each slap, as if he were talking to an errant schoolchild. Her backside was blisteringly hot and no amount of struggling could avoid the continuous, ever accurate blows as they imparted more and more fire.
'Stop. Please stop,' she whimpered and her eyes filled with hot, salty tears.
'I will watch my tongue in my master's presence,' was his only reply. His voice was menacing, his displeasure with her increasingly obvious, and the beat of his hand became faster.
She bucked wildly underneath the onslaught, but he held her fast with little effort. Trying to tense the muscles in her ass tightly, to lessen the sting of each strike, she found she was already tiring and it was becoming more and more difficult to fight him. Her mind swirled in a haze of fog-filled pain and escalating arousal. Did vampires need sleep? Did they even get tired? Could he do this all night?
'I can keep this up for two weeks straight, if need be,' came the ominous reply.
She screamed and was annoyed when she couldn't thump her fists around to accompany the sound. Having someone constantly inside your head was infuriating.
'And it's only going to get worse. Now say it, or you'll be getting no sleep tonight and you're certainly not getting any tomorrow.' The speed and intensity increased and he left her speechless for a moment. Knowing every word he spoke was true just made everything worse.
'Stop,' she pleaded. 'Stop. I want to say something.'
He raised an eyebrow, but his hand obligingly stopped in mid-air. 'Speak,' he commanded.
'I will...' a round of coughing ensued, 'watch my tongue...' followed by a choked sob, 'in my...' a giant hiccup ensued where a word was garbled beyond recognition, and then, 'presence.'
Martinet clucked his tongue and chewed his lip. He then pursed his lips and joined his two index fingers together in a sharp point, deep in thought. 'Hmm,' was all he said for several seconds. Then he came at her in a blur of speed and raked his fingernails down the crimson flesh of her buttocks.
'Master. Master, master, master,' she shrieked in response, prepared to do anything to get him off her.
'Give me the whole damn sentence right now or face the consequences.' His gaze had gone from dark to black and his fangs were now visible under the top of his lip. That got her attention as nothing else could. If she was bitten, her life would be over in so many ways more than one.
'I will watch my tongue in my master's presence.' It was remarkably clear considering her chest had bent back double in order to escape his razor-sharp nails.
