6
I’M coming for you. We will go to Hell together.
Alanna woke, heart pounding. Since she didn’t hear the echo of a scream, she’d bitten down on it before it could escape. Even with the blocker, the nightmares still came. The InhServs had mocked her, beaten her when she woke them with the cries. So great was her crime against their purpose, they probably would have done Stephen’s will for him, staked her with metal, if the Council hadn’t forbidden it.
Sitting up, she drew steadying breaths. One . . . in, out. Two . . . in, out.
She hadn’t been asleep long. Through the window of her small guest bedroom, she saw dawn had come, turning the moon into a translucent crescent in a dark gray sky. It would be overcast this morning. When she rose and cracked the window, she could smell the rain coming.
She thought about the night she’d spent with her new Master. Painting with him, eating on the ledge with Niall. The soreness of her bottom after Niall’s punishment. She touched her waist through her thin night rail, sliding over her rib cage, across her abdomen. Though she touched nothing improper, the firm press of her fingers against her skin made her shudder. Her whole body had become an erogenous zone.
She remembered Evan’s gaze on her as she’d removed the shirt, displayed herself to him. The moment he had commanded her to undress, her body had liquefied. Then there was Niall, holding her over his knee, punishing her at the command of their Master. When he’d spanked her, only his hand snarled in her hair kept her from sinking her teeth into the seam of his pants leg. She’d craved ruthless male hands, the pierce of sharp fangs, the thrust of their cocks, pounding into her body, using her, needing her. Wanting her.
The ache in her throat was going to choke her. She’d ruined it. As the climax came upon her, something had invaded her mind, the same thing that invaded her dreams now. Failure. Hopelessness . . . Fear.
Evan hadn’t taken her body yet, had barely touched her. But it made sense. He had a servant for his sexual needs. Her Master had committed crimes against the Council, but that changed nothing about her own status in the vampire world. She wasn’t clean. She was a traitor. For Evan, she was simply an assignment, an intriguing diversion until her fate was determined.
It shouldn’t matter. But she’d woken from Stephen’s torment with the memory of Niall’s and Evan’s hands haunting her. She didn’t know if that one kindness among the nightmares had inflated their importance, but she no longer knew herself. Pleasure on demand was a switch she’d learned to flip on and off, compartmentalized when her Master didn’t need it. It didn’t come unbidden, until now. In this early dawn hour, she was overwhelmed by it.
She remembered Niall pressed against her back, Evan’s damp brush sliding over her flesh. She imagined that brush, coated with paint, following the curves of her body, adding her into the landscape, making her a permanent part of the forest, the mountains.
“Lass? You’re all right?”
Straightening, she looked toward the door where Niall stood, his tall form cloaked in shadows so she couldn’t really see him. But she could feel his heat, even from here. His voice stroked her like soft fur.
“Yes. I’m fine.” Even if she had to stake herself, she wasn’t going to fall apart again like she’d done earlier tonight. “Did I wake you?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
She closed her eyes. She’d woken Evan. There seemed to be no way to avoid being shamed by her weaknesses. At least in her little room in Berlin, she’d been ignored.
Evan could close the connection whenever he wished, so her thoughts wouldn’t disturb him. Why would he care about them anyway, this temporary servant who didn’t really fit in his household? But of course he had to monitor her status in case Stephen came for her.
“I deeply apologize to your Master.” She was already kneeling on the floor, her failsafe response. Even though Evan was not physically present or speaking in her mind, if he’d sent his servant, he was participating in this conversation. “I can’t control the dreams, but Lord Brian gave me some medicine so I can sleep more deeply. I will start taking it.”
“Why aren’t you taking it now?”
When she hesitated, lifted her gaze, she saw Niall’s tawny eyes glitter in the dim light, not without sympathy. “No sense lying. Ye know that.”
“Of course. I . . . it’s hard to wake up. I don’t dream with the pills, but . . .” Yet that darkness became the nightmare. A coffin, endless death. When it became too much and she wanted to scream, she couldn’t, as if her lungs had stopped functioning. She was a corpse, unable to react, or make a sound. The pills also made her groggy, an unacceptable state if she was to perform her duties.
She deserved to be up here in the woods in this totally unorthodox situation, because she was obviously coming apart at the seams, something no InhServ would ever do.
“Come up here.” He’d moved, was standing over her. All he wore was a pair of worn flannel boxers, the elastic shot so they hung low on his hips. When she started to rise, he squatted down, bringing a wall of chest muscle into her field of vision, as well as the faintly sweaty but welcome male scent of him. “Put your arms around my neck, muirnín. We’re going on a little trip.”
He lifted her the way he might lift a child, fitting her to the front of his body, guiding her legs around his hips, his palms cradling her bottom and the small of her back. It was natural to slide her arms all the way around his shoulders, her face pressed into his neck. She was tired.
He rubbed her back as he maneuvered out of the room and down the hallway toward the back bedroom. She remembered he’d said this back room was suitable for Evan, at least for early morning. Since it was overcast, she wondered if he’d be there, but when she didn’t sense him, she realized he was probably still in the cellar, working on the day’s pictures.
It was a large bed, the headboard a crisscross of tied branches, interwoven with a string of small white lights that cast a dim light in the room. Niall sat down with her straddling his lap, her knees pressed into the mussed covers.
Stroking her hair away to massage her nape, he continued to hold her that way, her head resting on his shoulder, face pressed into his neck. She remembered her thoughts and dreams, the yearning, and felt an unsolicited contraction between her legs at the position. His cock was firm and promising beneath her, making her want to rub. Knowing she would die of mortification if she did such a thing, she tensed, determined to lock down even the most innocuous twitch. Niall’s arms tightened around her, a brief warning before he shifted her. Now they were lying down, her body spooned inside the shelter of his.
“Why don’t ye sleep here with me for a bit? Maybe having someone warm and breathing next to ye will help with the sleep. Imagine I’m a big, smelly bear.”
Her lips quivered against that near smile she kept experiencing around him. With the only thing between them being her thin nightgown and his flannel shorts, there was a great deal of long thigh against the back of hers, his hard furred chest against her shoulders. It was natural to shift her hips closer, pressing her backside to the heat of his groin.
“You keep wiggling like that, muirnín, you’ll get us both in trouble. Easy now. Just sleep.”
Bit by bit, she relaxed. When he put an arm around her waist, cinching her in closer despite his warning, he nuzzled her hair. Settling his head deeper into the pillow, he blew through the loose strands as if they were in his way. It made her squirm, and he tightened his arm, blew on her some more, tickling her neck.
“Stop it,” she told him. Warmth settled in her lower belly when his chuckle rumbled against her back.
He had that smell of forest and earth, like Evan. Beneath whatever shampoos, colognes or body washes they used, most vampires smelled of dry, cool . . . nothing. Another reason they were called the undead in lore and legend. Of course, having to dispose of Stephen’s annual kill for him for ten consecutive years, she could say for an unpleasant fact the dead did not smell like nothing.
The Council allowed every vampire to take thirteen human lives per year without consequences, as long as they observed the protocols for remaining undetected by the human world, but only one of those deaths was necessary. The annual kill. A vampire needed to completely drain a human once a year to rejuvenate his mind and body, keep them in peak condition.
Niall had been with Evan three hundred years. Unbidden, she imagined a stack of bodies, like a wall of sandbags, and it speared straight into those nightmares Stephen had given her. A wave of blood, washing over the bodies . . .
“Wheest.” The shushing noise made his breath a soft stroke on her skin. “I’ll sing you a song if you keep doing that.”
Evan was still in her head, letting Niall hear her thoughts. She squeezed her lids tighter, trying to dispel such images. “You’re not smelly,” she whispered.
“Yes I am. Go to sleep.” Niall’s gruffness helped that warmth to return. “God knows what Picasso will want when he gets up tonight. Probably have me scaling the highest peak to strap a camera on a mountain goat’s arse.”
He trailed off at the end of the sentence, punctuating it with a half snore. At first, she thought he was teasing her, then she realized he’d truly fallen asleep in midsentence. She envied him the effortlessness of it. His unconscious state eased her somewhat, though. She was glad to be sharing the bed with him, but she wasn’t sure what she’d do with the intimacy if he stayed awake. In Stephen’s house, she hadn’t had any difficulty avoiding unmandated physical contact with other servants, but here was an entirely different matter.
Evan had left her wanting, but that was her fault. No matter how shamefully poor her impulse control had become, she wasn’t going to shame herself further by acting on her impulses with his servant.
As she worked through a calming meditation, her body relaxed further into Niall’s. Servants never slept together. She was glad Niall and Evan didn’t know that, and hoped she could sleep here every night, no matter how weak a thought that was. He’d been right—she felt sheltered here, safe from the nightmares.
Eventually she dozed, but when she woke, she didn’t think she’d been out long. She was still firmly held in Niall’s arms, his breath on her neck and shoulder. The bedroom door was open, but she didn’t see daylight in the forward part of the house. The rumble of thunder told her it was storming, explaining the darkness. She became aware of the patter of rain, falling on the tin roof. A moment later, she realized Evan was in the room.
Niall had taken the center of the large bed, putting her on the right side. Behind them, she heard Evan shedding clothes, the metallic clink as he removed his watch. When she turned her head, the lights woven through the headboard allowed her to see him, down near Niall’s feet. He was shirtless, the top of the pants open so they fell low on his lean hips as he dug out whatever he was carrying in the pockets. Some change, possibly some keys. Very normal things, things she wasn’t used to vampires carrying.
When his gaze lifted, she didn’t immediately think to look away. Instead she lingered on his brow, the way his hair fell over it, the straight shape of his nose and mouth, the sculpted cheekbones. His upper body, while lacking Niall’s bulk, was strong and lean, with pleasing curves and ridges of muscle.
Niall tended to let his clothes stay where they fell, because he’d kicked them aside when he’d brought her into the room. Evan folded his, laying them over a chair. She should do that for him. It wasn’t proper for him to be doing the task while his servants lay there.
It is if I enjoy watching them twined together, waiting for me. Well, you’re waiting. I could be falling off the mountain toward a ravine of sharp tree branches and Niall wouldn’t rouse. Unless I give him proper incentive.
The mattress shifted as Evan slid into the bed. Reaching over Niall’s body, he touched her arm, let his long fingers slide over her elbow, her hip. Though the blanket was covering her, it was thin, and the night rail even thinner.
Take the gown off, Alanna. You may keep the blanket. Keep your back against Niall when you’re naked, but you can turn your head to watch if you desire.
When she obeyed, lifting her upper body to free the garment, such that the blanket fell to her waist, Evan’s fingertips traced her spine, the tender skin between her shoulder blades, making her tremble under his caress. When she lay back down, she left the blanket where it was, riding the edge of her hip.
His hands were back on his servant, his knuckles brushing her hair as he moved down Niall’s chest. When he paused, fingers shifting, she expected he was toying with a flat nipple. Turning her head, she saw the vampire propped on one elbow, leaning over Niall’s shoulder. As he scraped his nails over the man’s nipple, Evan nudged the Scot’s loose dark brown hair out of his way. He put his other hand on Niall’s throat, collaring him as he pierced the artery.
It was mesmerizing, since Evan had been so . . . not unvampirelike, that wasn’t the right word. But this display of power, of dominance, the glow in his eyes, the flash of fangs, reminded her that he had a side she could understand. This part of things she knew. His free hand pushed beneath Niall’s arm, lingering on his hip bone. Then Evan tunneled beneath the cloth, found and gripped the cock that was fast coming to life, pushing against her soft buttocks. She started to shift to make more room for her Master.
“Stay where you are, Alanna,” Evan breathed against his servant’s skin. Niall’s eyes had opened to half slits, as if he was caught between dream and wake, but she suspected he was quite aware, or getting there very quickly. “He likes pushing himself against a soft female ass while I’m f*cking him.”
She’d been in the room when a vampire was coupling with another male, but she’d never been this close and intimate with it, in this dark room where Niall’s breath was quickening against her shoulders. Her own breath was escalating, Evan’s energy cloaking them both, holding them under his dominion. Niall jerked against the hold on his throat, but Evan’s grip only tightened.
“Going to fight me tonight, my servant?” His fingers constricted elsewhere as well, and Niall let out a groan, his lips drawing back from his teeth in a near snarl as Alanna felt Evan skillfully stroking up and down the hard cock, cupping his balls, squeezing them. Evan’s arm flexed, the muscles smoothly rippling as he handled the big Scot. “You won’t fight me too hard. Not with a beautiful, fragile girl pressed up against you.”
“Cheat.”
“Yes. Like you cheated earlier. You owe me for that.”
She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she understood what Evan wanted now. She undulated her hips, rubbing herself against Niall’s engorged member. He let out a muttered curse as Evan pinched her in approval, stroked the curve of her buttocks. Though he shifted his attention back to Niall, the approbation warmed her. If she could focus on serving his needs, she wouldn’t fall apart. Not like earlier. She didn’t know what had happened then, but she knew this type of situation much better. At least she thought she did.
“F*ck . . .” Niall rumbled again. The hand he’d had on Alanna’s waist had flattened on her stomach as his arm coiled over her. Now his fingers flexed, quivering as if they wanted to turn, cup a breast. She wanted that, too, her nipples tight and eager.
“No. You don’t have my leave to touch her. She’s mine, just as you are mine. You keep your hands right where they are, or I’ll have her bind your arms to the rails of this bed.”
“You’d try.”
“Not me. Her.” Evan’s lip curled back, showing a bloodied fang. “He will fight me tooth and nail, Alanna, but in your hands he’s a tamed beast. Law of the Innocents. He’s peculiar about women and children, my old-fashioned servant.”
“Before my time. I’m not that old.”
“That’s like saying you don’t follow the Bible because you weren’t around when it was written.”
“Ye want to debate theology, now?” Niall’s breath huffed out on a half laugh, half groan again as Evan’s fingers did something else to him. “Jesus.”
As far as Niall not being willing to raise a hand to a woman, her ass begged to differ. Flashing her a feral grin, Evan bent to his meal again.
There’s hurting a woman, then there’s using pain to arouse her. My servant has more than a touch of sexual Dominant in him, and it’s my pleasure to exploit it. He loved spanking your lovely ass.
Air whistled out between Niall’s teeth as Evan’s hand left his cock, sliding over his hip and out of view, where the vampire put those same fingers to a more in-depth purpose. Niall thrust his hips against Alanna. As she made several more provocative circles against him, she stroked the seam of her buttocks up his length and back down. Pressing her damp cunt against the solid mass of his testicles, she could feel the wet spot against her ass where his seed had dampened his shorts. She was wet now herself, wanting to feel flesh against flesh, and Evan granted her wish.
“Take him out, Alanna. Put him between your thighs. No penetration. I just want you to get him slick using your cunt.”
Turning to her knees, she moved down the bed to get the shorts off Niall’s hips. The job was already half done, since Evan had his hand and wrist well below the waistband in the back. Niall’s jaw was tight, his eyes glittering on hers in the darkness. It made her look back down at her task. Yes, he was another servant, but his expression was fierce . . . overpowering. Sliding his boxers off, she left him naked for his Master. She wanted to touch the thick organ she’d freed. He had a handsome cock, clear fluid at the tip tempting taste. Her p-ssy throbbed as she imagined taking its width and breadth in her mouth, between her legs.
Sexual service was a part of a servant’s duties. With the flow of visitors in Stephen’s household, that service had often been creative. Seeing servants lose control, be pushed far beyond where they thought they could go and climax, was a vampire specialty. It was entertainment, politics, and the primitive expression of the vampire nature. Predator, dominant, top of the food chain.
Yet thinking of those demanding vampire gatherings, the political machinations that had driven many of them, Stephen’s watchful gaze, his distant nod or faint smile when he was pleased with her performance . . . in comparison to this, those moments felt sterile. Physically pleasurable, yes, but there was something here she hadn’t experienced then.
Intimacy. This wasn’t a performance before other Council members, coupling her with other servants to show off her flexibility or exotic InhServ skills. Evan’s focus was on Niall, and he was bringing her into that focus, making her a partner in taking the Scot somewhere unexpected.
“Face him, Alanna. Straddle his cock.”
She slid up Niall’s body, bringing her bare skin against that hard, furred terrain of muscle. Just that contact made her quiver, hard, especially when the Scot put his large hand on her lower back, digging his fingers into the top of her buttock to gather her to him. He nuzzled her cheek, her temple, his eyes still half closed.
Her Master had given her an order, but she was caught staring at the strong planes of Niall’s face, the intensity of his brown eyes, the set of his mouth. The strands of hair sliding over his temples. Her fingers quivered.
You may touch him as you desire, Alanna.
She lifted her fingers toward his face, but just before she made contact, she hesitated, meeting Niall’s gaze.
Niall gave her a nod of permission as well, his jaw flexing. She touched his temple first, the thick strands of hair there. As her knuckles drifted down his face, Evan turned his head to press his lips against her hand. She stilled, holding her breath at the touch of the heated, damp mouth. When he put his mouth on his servant’s shoulder again, she watched the fangs lengthen, puncture the flesh again. A trickle of blood escaped, sliding over the fingers she now had resting on Niall’s chest. Though it was too dark to discern the details, he had a tattoo there, something that covered most of one pectoral and his upper abdomen, because she felt the faint ridges of the scarring necessary to anchor a tattoo in a third mark’s flesh.
Spreading out the fingers of her other hand, she followed the bridge of Niall’s broken nose, moved over his lashes. Down the cheek to the jaw, to his mouth.
It was as if time had stopped, something significant and potent happening because of her touch. He relaxed in his Master’s arms, she felt it, though he drew her even closer with that powerful arm around her waist, turning them into one sensual creature, moving in a twined pattern on the quilts, inside this earthen womb.
You said you were trained to dance, Alanna. Give him a dance that will make him fight not to come.
Evan was having to remind her to do as he’d commanded, but he didn’t sound impatient with her distraction. She recalled herself to the assigned task, though she regretted drawing back from whatever this moment was. Locking both arms around Niall’s shoulders again, she arched her body fully against his.
“This is called a serpent dance,” she whispered. She gazed at his cheekbone, that intense stare too much for her. As she imagined the provocative dance, she relaxed and dropped her shoulders, putting her upper body into a sinuous roll, forward, then lateral, so her breasts dragged in an oblong shape across his chest and back, her nipples sliding over his. The motion carried to her rib cage. She was a serpent, moving through grass, over the curves of a stone. Over the curves of a rock-hard body.
Niall’s hand flexed on her lower back, his breath sharp and hot on her face. His cock grew thicker, longer, so when she brought her hips into it, he was a hard bar against her mons. The tip brushed over her navel, leaving that moisture. She wanted to gather it on her fingers, taste him.
“Do it,” Evan rumbled. “And look at our faces as you do it.”
Sliding her fingertips over her stomach, she collected Niall’s semen and brought it to her mouth. As she did, she lifted her gaze. The tissues between her legs became even more swollen, glazed with her own honey at the twin gazes lasered on what she was doing. Two male bodies this close to her, demanding and wanting a tangled variety of things. Strangers, and yet somehow far more familiar to her than the many others she’d coupled with regularly before the Council.
Mindful of Evan’s original order, she opened her thighs, shifting upward to capture Niall’s cock. It brought her breasts closer to the temptation of his firm mouth before she sank again, bearing his thick cock into a horizontal position between her thighs. As she made the adjustment, he thrust forward unexpectedly.
Unexpected to her. Had Evan not anticipated it, Niall would have sunk halfway into her channel. Instead, Evan’s hands locked hard on his hips, holding him fast. He bit his servant’s shoulder in another place, a rough penetration that made Niall grunt, just as Evan thrust deep into his ass, turning the grunt into a growl, a groan. Niall’s fingers dug into Alanna’s buttocks in involuntary reaction. She felt the impact of Evan’s penetration all the way to her womb, even though she merely held Niall between her thighs now.
“Bastard,” Niall hissed.
“You had no leave to f*ck her. You’re more disobedient than usual tonight, neshama.” Evan’s voice was a croon, though, as his hand slid down Niall’s chest. Alanna swallowed as he plucked at her nipple. “And you’re not doing as you were instructed, Alanna.”
She began to roll her body against Niall’s cock once more. Since she was dripping wet, it was easy to do the sinuous lower body movements against him. Her priority was her Master’s desires, not her own, but when Niall had tried to slide into her, she’d had to fight the desire to angle up, take him deep. Her lower belly had a sexual clench to it that was longing, need . . . lust. She remembered earlier on the mountain, the tears. That ache was part of what was in her lower belly now, but she was helpless to back away from it.
“Do you want Niall to touch you, Alanna?”
He was already touching her, the grip of his fingers likely leaving additional bruises on her buttocks. She wanted more, though. Wanted him to cup her breasts in his large, heated palms, pinch the nipples the way Evan had his. But it wasn’t about her wants.
“If that would please you, Master.”
Beyond the initial thrust that had taken him balls deep in Niall’s ass, Evan hadn’t moved. Now those gray eyes that became fully dark in the gloom lifted to her face. “Keep working him while you look at me,” he murmured.
She sensed Niall’s eyes on her face as she performed the slow, provocative glides, her hips and * coming in contact with Niall’s pelvis each time she came back up. Then back down, the ridge of the head stroking unevenly over her tissues, a delicious friction. Her p-ssy spasmed, making her hand slip to his chest, fingers tightening in the hair there.
“You could come just by doing this, couldn’t you?”
“If it’s what my Master desires me to do.”
Dropping a casual kiss on Niall’s shoulder, a quick lick over the area he’d punctured, Evan pulled out and rose, moving out of view. Niall let out a breath, registering the pang of loss, his mouth tightening. To make up for it, Alanna kept doing as Evan had commanded. She worked herself over Niall, all her most skillful movements called into play as she stared at the Scot’s neck. He touched her jaw, drawing her face up toward those fierce eyes. He had a hunter’s look, intent on pursuing his kill, running it to ground. He knew it was beyond escape. It made her shiver.
“Bring her to the edge of the bed, Niall. Your feet on the floor, her between your thighs, continuing to do what she’s doing, only facing me.”
She let herself be lifted, turned, and when Niall slid them to the end of the mattress, she saw Evan had taken a seat in one of the roomy chairs facing the end of the bed. She braced herself on Niall’s knees, her feet on the floor between his as she recaptured his cock between her thighs, began to dance and slide upon it once more, a titillating lap dance. As she positioned herself, she had to glance down. The sight of his cock pushing out between her thighs, splitting her labia, both of them slick with her juices, made her whimper. She moved her hands so she was holding his on her hips, and he was moving with her, helping to work her on him, taking over with his strength, making it less about the dance and more about male demand, the urge to be thrusting inside her, instead of through the split between her thighs. He was rubbing against her *, taunting her, making her lose her focus.
Look at me, Alanna.
She was no longer leading, for Niall had taken over the movement. She was bent forward, a supplicant position toward the vampire facing her.
Evan was casual about his nakedness, one leg draped over the chair leg, the other braced on the floor. The artist would make a good subject himself, and she wondered if he’d ever done a self-portrait. Not an easy thing, since vampires had no reflection. Regardless, she wanted to paint a picture of him in her head and hold it there forever.
His cock brushed his belly, testicles drawing the eye. He was a good size, in proportion with his body. Her gaze covered the pale expanse of his chest, the knotted musculature of his shoulders. She didn’t know if she had leave to keep looking at him, but he didn’t say not to do so.
“Do you want Niall to touch you, Alanna? Cup your breasts, stroke your *?”
Imagining such things sent a shiver through her, another gasp. Vaguely, she realized he was asking her the same question over and over, as if she wasn’t providing him the answer he was seeking. But the answer was the same. “If it pleases my Master.”
Evan cocked his head. “So anything that pleases me, will please you?”
“I am your servant, to do with as you will.”
He slid his hand down his body to grip himself. Stroking his length, he rubbed his thumb over the head, using that lubrication to help with the pumping motion. His hips shifted, responding to the stimulation, his head dropping back to the chair. Lips parted, eyes on the ceiling.
She licked her lips. She wanted to go to him, put her mouth on it, finish it. So she put more effort into working with Niall, though he was getting her more and more excited, rubbing her * against his cock, pulling her against him with his fingers digging into her hips, her backside smacking against his hard lower abdomen.
Was Evan aware of what was happening within a few feet of him? She sensed Niall’s eyes were on his Master as well, watching him work that long cock. Was he wishing, like her, that he was over there, having the chance to taste, touch . . . be used for their Master’s pleasure? Why had he pulled out, drawn away from them?
She kept doing the long strokes on Niall’s cock. Each one was torture now, a desire to bear down harder, grind herself on him. The pocket between hip and labia was damp with her fluids now, her thighs tracked with it.
Evan’s hand convulsed into a fist, hips lifting up off the chair as his chest expanded in a shuddering response.
Please . . .
His gray gaze came back to her. “Please, what? Tell me what you want, Alanna. No. Don’t tell me what you want. I’ll tell you what I want.”
That is what I want, Master. To serve your desires.
She hadn’t intended to disobey, but the words just tumbled from her. His brows knitted, lips firming.
“I want your mouth on my cock, Alanna. But you have to come to earn that. And I want you over here pretty damn fast.”
“Yes, Master.”
When Niall put his other arm over her chest, just above her jutting nipples, so close the hairs of his arm tickled them, it gave her an anchor for her hands. She worked her hips harder on him and he pressed his thighs closer. She realized he was moving his hips in tandem with her now, thrusting between her thighs, against her wet, empty p-ssy. He’d overwhelmed her serpent dance with pure male aggression. As she tightened her thighs on him, the ridged head of his cock bumped against her * with devilish knowledge.
“Oh . . .”
“Aye, there I am, muirnín.” Niall’s voice was thick and dangerous. “Think ye can play with a wild beast and not get run to ground?”
“I’m getting impatient, Alanna,” Evan said silkily, his eyes pinned on her in the darkness. “Come now. I want you to gush on Niall’s cock.”
Her p-ssy spasmed again, her * hardening, and her nails dug into Niall’s arms. “Work that pretty cunt against me, girl,” Niall muttered against her ears. “God, you have the finest arse. Makes me want to sink deep into it, make ye scream.”
She gave a small cry when the climax took her. As she went over, Niall’s grip shifted, capturing her breasts and pinching the nipples, sending sensation screaming straight between her legs, adding to the climax. She was bucking against his cock with no training at all now, just pure involuntary reaction to the climax crashing through her.
She forced herself to ride it not one second longer past the strongest waves, so she was still quivering with it when she slid down between Niall’s legs, moving on all fours to cross the few feet to Evan’s knees. Niall’s hands steadied her on her way down, then they slipped away. Her long hair was loose so it slid from her back, the ends teasing her knuckles as she came to her vampire Master. Evan made a low noise of approval.
“Still in those aftershocks, aren’t you, you lovely beauty? Hold still, right there. Not a single move. Look at me. I want to see the need on your face.”
Her mouth was within inches of his erect cock, but he bade her stay still as those aftershocks rolled through, making her shudder, her thighs tighten and quiver. She whimpered, licking her lips.
“You want it badly, don’t you?” Evan’s eyes glowed in the darkness. “I can smell how ready you are for us.”
She didn’t hear him command Niall, but since he could be in either of their minds, it gave him the element of surprise. When the Scot’s hands slid over her backside, slipping between her thighs to nudge them farther apart, she widened her stance at Evan’s nod. Then even farther to accommodate Niall’s shoulders when he lay down on the floor between her knees. Her breath came in shallow pants, her eyes on Evan’s watching face.
“Like a beautiful wild animal. She’s all desire and need, Niall.”
Niall’s fingers curled over her thighs, pulling her down onto his mouth. She arched up as her thighs flattened toward the floor, coordination lost at the first touch of his mouth. As she made tiny, involuntary jerks against his hold, Niall licked up her fluids, his thumbs parting her buttocks as he did so, teasing her rim so more aftershocks fluttered and spasmed against his tongue.
Evan leaned forward now, stroking her cheek as she made pleading noises. She could smell the musky scent of his cock on his fingers. Though he was obviously hard and ready to release himself, he was studying her every reaction, driving her out of her mind. Vampires were the epitome of patience when it came to this. Anticipation was their greatest aphrodisiac.
Sliding the chair closer, he gripped his cock, finally giving her the gift of angling it toward her mouth. She took him in deep as he propped his hips on the edge of the chair, knees splayed wide to push her down on him deep. Then he held her there, hand fisted in her hair, not allowing her to suck or pull, just feel the length and breadth of him stretching her mouth, tickling her throat, while Niall teased her p-ssy with his mouth, tongue flicking her *. Then his whole mouth sealed over her to suck and nibble. Because they’d started this so soon after her climax, she was trapped in that hyperstimulated state, unable to go back or forward, imprisoned by their skill.
Her pleas became short screams as Niall began to thrust his tongue rhythmically in her, making her want to move her hips in an act of copulation against him. Evan hadn’t forbidden it, but he was making her stay still on his cock, so she assumed that meant the rest of her body. But oh, it was so hard.
She’d always anticipated what her vampire wanted before he wanted it, staying a step ahead and ready to shift gears at the exact moment he desired. Staying a step ahead of Evan was impossible, because he and Niall were fully on top, their demands like rushing water, powerful rapids taking away her ability to move or think . . .
“Please . . .” Her fingers dug into the floor.
“Now, Alanna. Start sucking me. If you come before I do, you’ll be in for quite a punishment.”
She got to work with a fervor that had his fingers tightening in her hair in reproof. “Easy,” he chuckled, a dark sensuous sound. “I’m the only one who uses fangs around here. Niall, take your pleasure.”
Yes. Oh . . . God.
Niall left the floor, fingers gliding up her legs. In the next moment, the head of his cock was pushing into her cunt. He stopped when it breached the gate, and she lifted her hips involuntarily, begging to be f*cked, for him to come in deeper, harder.
“She’s hot for it now, Evan. Completely lost, pretty flower.”
“F*ck her, Niall. Be rough about it. That’s what she needs.”
The Scot sank into her wetness and the clenched postclimactic tissues. He stretched her painfully, but she welcomed every inch. He let out an unintelligible oath, a reverent expletive. Those large hands gripped her buttocks, nearly covering them as he began to work himself inside of her in long, powerful strokes. She tried to do the same with Evan’s cock, taking him deep, working her tongue furiously against him. Too fast. She needed to slow down, but she was ravenous, sucking and nipping at him, pulling hard as Niall f*cked her. He was ruthless, making her feel the slap of his testicles against her * with every thrust. She wanted to close her legs, reduce the sensation, but he knocked her legs farther apart, and she was lost.
She came again. Through the insanity of it, she kept trying to work Evan’s cock in her mouth. He wouldn’t let her use her hands. Holding her neck and hair, he pushed her down on him when she couldn’t coordinate her own movements, could only scream out her climax against his cock.
That wave kept coming. Was it possible the hypersexuality that came with being a third mark—a servant’s only chance of keeping up with a vampire’s insatiable sex drive—had not been impacted by the blocker? The thought energized her, renewed her resolve. She’d failed to wait for him to come first, but she would finish him. When he convulsed under her tongue, his thighs pressing against her shoulders hard, a precursor to ejaculation, she felt the surge of triumph. But then he drew her off him abruptly.
“Down on the floor, Alanna.” Naill withdrew as Evan spoke. “Faceup. Head between my feet, arms at your sides, legs closed.”
She was confused. What could he . . .
“Now,” he said sharply, and she dropped. She was looking up at his glistening erection, the heavy sack of his testicles, the spread of his thighs as he rose. As Niall moved forward, straddling her shoulders, Evan fed that beautiful cock into his servant’s mouth right above her. She imagined the pressure building, saw his testicles drawing up . . .
She’d wanted to feel him jetting against the back of her throat. But he’d denied her, because she’d failed the test, hadn’t she? She stared up at Niall, the ripple of muscle across his abdomen and through the long lengths of his thighs as he used his strength to increase his suction on his Master. She wanted to be part of it. She wanted . . .
By the InhServ oath, it didn’t matter what she wanted, what she felt. What mattered was what the Master wanted, and she’d failed. The shame and humiliation of this was her punishment.
She refused to let those horrible tears fall, though to do it she had to go cold and dead inside once again, cutting herself off from all feeling. If she’d done that earlier, she wouldn’t have come so quickly. She’d let herself get carried away by . . . by what? The close darkness of the room, the two men’s desires . . . her desires.
Apparently sixteen years of training and discipline, thirteen years of exercising it, could be weakened and erased by one traitorous act. Or she’d always had the weakness of character, and it had never been tested. Just like this test, she’d failed.
Niall reached down and grabbed her wrist, bringing her hand up to his stomach. He wanted her touching him, and her traitorous fingers curled into his flesh, seeking the heat and hardness of him.
Now there was enough room between them to see what she’d felt on the bed. He had a tattoo on one side of his chest, a large dragon whose head and shoulders covered his pectoral, the lower body and long, spiked tail curling over his rib cage. She traced the tail, the gleaming scales of the haunch, as she heard Evan’s breath rasp faster. Yearning and hungry, she saw the slick stalk of Evan’s cock exposed a few inches, then taken deep by Niall’s mouth again. Her gaze followed his working throat, back down to his chest.
A female dragon wound around his biceps, screaming back at the male dragon. As Niall serviced his Master, the flex of his body brought those dragons to life. She let her hand glide down his belly, toward the temptation of Niall’s stiff organ. She stopped short of touching it, however. His cock was the vampire’s personal property, and she wouldn’t go there without a direct command.
She curled her fingers against his lower abdomen, staring at the male dragon. As she’d detected with her fingertips, the design was marked with ridges where the ink had been set into the flesh with the aid of Evan’s blood. A third mark’s flesh healed all wounds without scarring, unless marked with his Master’s blood. Looking at the painstaking detail in the two tattoos, she wondered at how long it had taken, the pain involved. Had Evan himself done the work?
He works with paint, metal, clay . . . whatever medium strikes his fancy . . .
Evan came at last, exploding in his servant’s mouth, his groans of pleasure enough to make Alanna press one hand on her empty belly, her nails digging into Niall’s flesh. She turned her head, pressing her mouth to the side of Evan’s bare foot. Even if that was forbidden, she needed to be a part of their connection.
She also wanted to put her hand between her legs. Not to stimulate, but just to hold herself, a small comfort. Instead, she opened her eyes, watched Niall finish the aftermath, licking Evan clean. As he did, he gave the vampire a sharp nip, earning a box of his ears, a tug of his hair, though Niall glanced down at her in a perplexing sense of conspiracy, his brown eyes glinting. She hadn’t brought Evan to climax before her own pleasure. Niall had managed to retain such control, while balls deep and thrusting inside her.
Maybe it wasn’t her failure that made Evan push her away before completion. He’d let his servant f*ck her, but Evan himself hadn’t. She was another vampire’s leavings. Unclean. The word came back to her, hated yet undeniable. She wanted to go back to her own bed. But her wants weren’t important, damn it all. Did she need to have that tattooed on her flesh? The sad irony was that she’d need Stephen’s blood to make it permanent. No, maybe not. She was more human than servant now, right? She could cut the words into her own flesh, the reminder that her wants were supposed to be the furthest thing from her mind.
Niall sat back on his heels. When he did, Evan knelt over her. Before she could guess his intent, he’d grasped her chin and pulled it up. Her heartbeat stuttered as she found herself locked in the grip of gray eyes as steely and determined as any Council vampire’s. “Alanna, what have you noticed about me since you’ve come here?”
He was angry at her. She deserved it. She had to make sure she responded appropriately. Honestly. The only way a servant could.
“You’re . . . different. From the other vampires I know. You’re . . .”
“How do I experience things?”
She scrambled for it, trying to think it through. “You don’t like to miss any details. You take time to absorb them.”
His touch eased. As he stroked those long fingers along her face, she couldn’t help it. She raised her face, seeking more. It startled her enough she might have drawn back, except a pleased warmth entered his gaze. Daring, she put her lips on his hand. His gray eyes heated further, encouraging her. She kissed his fingers, traced the lines of his palm with her tongue.
If he liked to take his time, not miss any details, he would want that from his servant as well. She could do that. She was trained to be very thorough, missing no detail when it came to pleasure. She’d just never done it spontaneously like this, without specific direction.
A sweep of her lashes showed he was hardening again. Her p-ssy, still recovering from taking Niall’s thick cock, didn’t care. She wanted him now. Her Master. Some sense that she was still a servant, serving a vampire.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I failed. I won’t fail again.”
“You’ll fail if that’s my intent. I wanted you to lose control,” he said.
“But you ordered . . .”
“Yes, I did. But who holds the control? You or me?”
She swallowed. “You, Master.”
“Good.” His fingers tightened on her face, his expression getting that hard look again. “You’re not unclean to me, Alanna. Nor a failure, not in any way.”
Rising after that surprising statement, he took a seat in the chair again. “We’re going to let you ride this feeling for a while, I think. But I want you to wash my cock. Niall put bloody garlic in that stew. I think he does it just to annoy me.”
“The fact that it’s not kosher doesn’t bother you, but the garlic does.” Niall snorted.
“Your kills are humane, thanks to your excellent hunting skills. That honors the spirit of Jewish law.”
“I’m thinking the drinking of human blood puts ye outside o’ most religions, let alone their dietary restrictions. The Satanists might welcome ye, though.”
“Particularly if I offer a big, strapping Scot as a sacrifice.”
“Heathen.” Niall had gone into the bathroom. When he came back out with a basin of steaming water and a washcloth, he set it on the ground next to Evan, who’d returned to his chair, his knees spread, waiting for her. His cock had returned to a somewhat softened state, but she could scent the remains of his seed on it, the earlier lubricant he’d used to f*ck Niall, and, as he’d said, the faint smell of garlic from Niall’s mouth.
Sliding over to him on her knees, she wrung out the washcloth. Niall took a seat on the bed behind her. As she felt them both watching her, she wondered what they were thinking, if they were discussing her. Her hands were shaking a little, her body hot with need.
Putting her hand on Evan’s knee to scoot forward a few more inches, she wrapped her hand around him. His cock stirred, interested under her touch, and she had to resist the urge to explore further, bring it back to life. She shifted, her p-ssy rubbing against her calves, gooseflesh rippling across her lower back from her reaction.
“Yes, I did his tattoos.”
When she dared a glance up at him, she saw the vampire’s jaw was set as if resisting his own response to her touch. It made things coil even tighter in her lower belly. These two made her act so strangely, out here in this rustic cabin in the middle of nowhere. A pair of owls hooted at each other outside.
She liked handling him, liked the feel of him. Like most vampires, he didn’t become immediately flaccid after climax, part of why she expected they recovered so quickly, capable of f*cking a servant countless times in the same night. The thought made her nipples tighten, particularly when her left breast brushed against the inside of his thigh. Vampires had no hair other than what was on their heads, so his smooth marble flesh slid easily beneath her skin. Sensing his sharpened regard, she focused harder on her task. Up, down, a careful rubbing to remove all trace of Niall’s saliva, his semen, though Niall had done a good job taking his Master’s seed down. She envied him that honor.
Glancing back, she saw Niall was still naked. Though he hadn’t come, his arousal from the tip had leaked over the head, painting small lines on the ridges of his stomach. He was still hard, making her swallow.
“After I clean our Master, I can do the same for you . . . if you like. If our Master approves.”
Niall’s brow lifted. He was a servant, so why would she offer such a thing? She didn’t know, so she bent her head again.
“That would please me,” Evan said neutrally. “You may serve us both, Alanna.”
It eased the band in her stomach. She wasn’t useless.
When he tugged her hair, brought her head up, she met that cool stare again. “Alanna, you and I are going to make a pact. It’s a devil’s bargain, because I’m fairly certain you’re going to break this rule often, and Niall and I are going to reap the pleasure of you doing so.”
Bargain? Pact?
“You won’t think of yourself as useless, unclean, traitorous, or deprecate yourself in any way. Not while you’re with me. You understand?”
“How can I be what you desire, sir, if I have no standards to strive for?”
“You follow my lead. Be who you are, Alanna, and I’ll let you know if I require anything different. The real question is, do you know who you are?”
His hand on her face had gentled, at odds with the spear of pain that came with the question. Fortunately, he didn’t require her to answer. “You break this rule,” he continued, “you won’t like the punishment I mete out. It will be severe, because I intend for you to remember it. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good. Now go tend to Niall. You’re trying to get me hard again, and it’s far past dawn. Time for me to go below.” He rose, picking up his clothes. As Alanna turned to watch him go, she was aware of Niall’s attention on her. The vampire turned at the door, gave his servant a significant look, then shifted it to Alanna. “During the day, when I sleep, you obey and serve Niall as you would serve me.”
Her fingers tightened on the cloth, not sure she entirely understood. “Master, do you mean . . . ?”
“Whatever he orders or desires, you obey as you obey my will.”
She swallowed. “Yes sir.”