Three
Max lifted the cup of coffee to his lips and stared out the window at the St. John Hotel directly across the street. He took deep, even breaths, his thoughts fully focused on clearing his mind. Excitement and anticipation coursed through his veins, and he studiously worked to temper them.
Control. Where was his? It was undeniable that when he was with Victoria hunger drove him, not his mission.
His kitten was a tigress in bed, one who rolled, scratched, and bit with abandoned fervor. Tying her to the brass headboard had been a necessary delight. One he’d repeated often over the last two weeks.
I don’t like this, Max, she’d said every time. But with her nipples hard against his tongue, he’d known the truth. She quaked, cursed, writhed, and the sight always made him so hard he’d have to grit his teeth to hold back his lust. Then he’d give up and f*ck her for hours, long past exhaustion, abandoning his assignment in favor of overwhelming pleasure.
And the Council knew it.
Your lack of progress displeases us, They’d complained just an hour ago.
“You’ve given me very little time,” he’d retorted.
We think no amount of time will be sufficient for taming the feral. She is beyond rehabilitation.
“She is not.” He’d exhaled sharply. “You’ve never rushed me like this before, and she’s the toughest case I’ve ever been given.”
Decades have passed. Our patience is thin.
Turning away from both the window and the memory with a low curse, Max caught up his coat and left the café. Time had just run out. He couldn’t fail in this. Failure would cost him more than loss of pride. It would cost Victoria her life.
He crossed the busy thoroughfare and entered the St. John by way of the revolving glass doors, waiting until he was midrotation before using his power to move up to the top floor, where Victoria was hard at work. The thought of her occupied at her desk made his dick ache. He adored intelligent women, and Victoria was more cunning than most. She was also tough as nails.
The only time she’d been truly vulnerable was on the brink of orgasm, so he’d kept her there, time and time again, absorbing the sudden flood of her thoughts and recollections. Feeling the love she’d once had for Darius and the aching sadness of loss. Those glimpses of her soul always moved him to orgasm, the feeling of connection so profound it stole his breath.
He grit his teeth as his cock swelled further. He’d come more since meeting her than he would have thought possible. It was why he had made so little headway. A proper taming required restraint on the part of the Hunter. He should have been finding his release elsewhere, tempering his desire, but no other woman appealed.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Westin,” the receptionist greeted with a come-hither smile.
With a snap of his fingers, she had no recollection of his visit, her memory wiped clean in the blink of an eye. All she knew was that her boss was too busy to be disturbed, and she would take messages and deny visitors until she was told otherwise.
Max entered Victoria’s lair without knocking, setting in place a simple glamour that prevented any passerby from seeing their coming activities through the glass office wall.
She looked up, arched a brow, and set her pen down. “Max.”
His name. One word. In that soft purr, it was an aphrodisiac and he was not immune as he should be.
“Hello, kitten.” He smiled at the soft shiver he felt from her. She was not immune either.
“I’m busy.”
“You’re about to be,” he agreed, setting aside his coffee and summoning a beautifully wrapped box on her desk.
Her mouth curved in a sensual smile that made his blood heat. “A gift? How delightful.”
Long, elegant fingers plucked at the lavender iridescent ribbon and tore at the royal blue wrapping. Inside rested an ornate wooden box. He watched as her fingertips drifted over the phrase that was carved there: Only within my bonds will you truly know freedom.
Victoria said nothing, but he watched her with a Hunter’s perception and noted the sudden appearance of erect nipples beneath her white silk blouse. Her hand lifted to engage his vision, holding aloft a set of velvet-lined nipple clamps connected by a delicate gold chain.
“I was wondering when you were planning to get around to the toys,” she said, a tad breathlessly. “You’ve waited longer than most.”
The intimation that he was nothing special, merely another in a long string of annoyances, forced his hand. Furiously swirling air filled the room, scattering the papers on the desk and thrusting Victoria backward. Max stalked toward her, his gaze narrowed, his open palm closing swiftly into a fist, bringing her to an abrupt stop just a scant inch away from the window.
Her green eyes were wide, her lips parted on panting breaths, her chest rising and falling in apparent fear. He, however, knew it to be intense arousal. He could feel her in his thoughts, their bond building with every moment spent together. The surge of power inside her, a careful blending of magic and Familiar enhancement, made him groan aloud with his own overpowering lust. Never in his life had he felt this way about a woman. It felt almost as if he’d found the perfect fit to a puzzle piece. His fingertips itched with the magic coursing through him—magic strengthened by his proximity to Victoria.
“Kitten,” he growled, reaching her. He thrust his hands into her cropped hair and pressed her back against the glass, her feet suspended a few feet above the ground. Eye-level with him.
She purred and nuzzled against him, her silver hoop earrings cold against his cheek, and then too hot. He stepped back, his power pinning her to the scenic view of the city behind her. Her arms were held motionless beside her head, her breasts thrusting wantonly toward him in the submissive pose. Only here, in the seat of her corporate influence, would a true taming be possible. She was ruler here. Until he arrived.
That was the lesson to be learned.
As he reached for the buttons of his shirt and freed them, magic mimicked his movements with Victoria’s blouse. He smiled as he felt his belt loosen, pleased with her initiative in exerting her own power to undress him.
“A nooner?” she murmured, before licking her lips.
“An all-afternooner,” he corrected, shrugging out of his shirt.
“You’re insatiable.”
“You love it.”
Max watched with heated anticipation as the bra clasp between her breasts snapped open and then separated. The nipple clamps rose up from the floor and then clipped into place, her reaction to the sudden pressure a low hiss from between clenched teeth. The sight of those pale, firm breasts capped with swollen, reddened nipples and the slender chain made freeing his cock from its confinement necessary.
“Oooh, Max,” she purred, moving sinuously against the window as he dropped his pants. “What a big cock you have.”
He gave her his best wolfish grin, enjoying her playfulness in the face of her helplessness. “The better to screw you with, my dear.”
The side zipper of her thin skirt lowered and then the garment fell to the carpeted floor along with her black lace thong and stiletto heels. “After,” he summoned the remaining contents of the box into his open palm, “I screw you with this.”
Victoria swallowed hard at the sight of the slightly curved dildo in his hand. It was long and thick, close in size, shape, and coloring to Max’s cock. He lubed it generously, his gaze never leaving hers.
She pouted. “I don’t want that thing. I want you.”
Max faltered a moment at her words, then moved quickly, taking her mouth with deep-seated hunger, distracting her from the tightening bond between them.
I want you. Such simple words, but for her, the words imperiled. It wasn’t quite the “needing” required to make the collar appear, but it was close enough to cause a quickening inside him. He shouldn’t feel anything more than triumph at her words, but he did. Much more.
It was what he’d hoped for, the result he had set out to achieve, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so fast. He had been certain he’d have to drive her mad first. He couldn’t do it while he was inside her, like he had done with every other Familiar he’d tamed. When he was joined to Victoria, the Council faded from his perception, leaving just the two of them lost in each other. The only needs he cared about were his own, and the Council could go to hell.
As he breathed deeply of her scent, his eyes squeezed shut, his chest heaving against hers, his fingers slipping between her legs to rub her *. He felt possessive and needy. God, all morning since he’d left her he’d wanted her. Only hours apart. Too long. Knowing their time together was temporary, he coveted every moment and hated to share her with work or anyone else.
Irreverent, saucy, mischievous—she was a cat through and through. She both soothed and incited him, a dichotomy that left him satisfied on every front.
And he was preparing her for an eternity with another man.
The knowledge made his jaw ache, and his chest tighten painfully. He shoved the thought away, and concentrated on the here and now. At least she’d be alive. If he had to lose her, better to another warlock than to death.
Whimpering into his mouth as he stroked her slick cunt, Victoria tried to writhe, but couldn’t fight the force that held her. “Max,” she breathed into his mouth. “Let me touch you.”
He shook his head, unwilling to break away from the kiss.
“I want to touch you, damn it!” She jerked her mouth away.
“You should want what I want.” His voice was rough, harsh. “My pleasure is yours. My hunger is yours.”
“Is your need mine, too?” Victoria asked softly, her gaze riveted to the large man who stood before her. She heard his teeth grind in response to her query and his touch left her.
There was an urgency to his seduction that had never been there before. To come to her during the day, when they would have been together within hours . . .
She inhaled sharply. How often had she caught herself daydreaming about him, reliving moments from the long night before? He cooked for her every night, and fed her by hand. He showered with her, and washed her hair. There were rough moments, too, along with the tender. Moments of high passion—like when he’d come through her front door and dragged her to the floor, saying hello with guttural cries and drugging thrusts of his beautiful cock deep inside her. Never asking permission. Taking what he desired as if the use of her body was his right.
The attention had seduced her, reminding her of the intimate connection between warlock and Familiar. But the woman within her had also been captivated. She wielded great power in her human life. She was responsible for the thousands of employees who worked under her command. There was relief and pleasure to be found in turning herself entirely into Max’s dominant keeping. Darius had treated her as equal. Max never let her forget that he held the power.
But now his words betrayed him, revealing the depth of his affection for her.
You should want what your Master wants. His pleasure is yours. His hunger is yours. His need is yours.
But Max had inserted himself as her Master. And the need to accept him was nearly overwhelming.
When she was with him, the restlessness that had plagued her for so long was soothed immeasurably. She wasn’t alone when she was with Max. Aside from Darius, he was the only man to ever make her feel that way. She’d put on needed weight, finding joy in sharing her meals and life with someone who wanted her to be happy. And she was, because he made sure of it. Yes, the single most important aspect of their relationship was satisfying him, but what satisfied Max was pleasuring her.
Victoria watched him warily as he approached. The dildo, glistening with lube, was aimed straight at the juncture between her legs. Max leaned forward and licked across her lips. “Open up, kitten.”
Mutinously, she defied him. “Make me.”
With a slight flick of his hand, magic forced her legs apart. She creamed, softening further, some traitorous part of her heritage relishing the taming, knowing she was about to be pleasured beyond bearing, and she didn’t have to do a damned thing.
“Look how wet you are,” he praised, rubbing the smooth tip up and down her drenched slit. He pressed his mouth against her ear and whispered, “You love a hard cock in you.”
“I love your hard cock in me.” She gasped, her p-ssy clenching tight in an effort to capture the thick head that teased her opening.
“Let’s play first,” he rumbled, sliding the dildo a scant inch inside her. She tried to grind her hips down onto it, but couldn’t.
“Max!”
“Shush, I’ll give it to you.” With deft twists of his wrist, he pumped it softly, working it inside her, his other hand catching the chain between her breasts and tugging gently. A deep ache built within her breasts, spreading through her torso, making her cry out.
“Easy,” he crooned, thrusting gently, finally spearing home with breathtaking expertise.
Her eyes met his, trying to understand why he took her like this, what it was he wanted from her so she could give it to him. Then she gave up, her eyes drifting closed, her body shuddering with pleasure as he f*cked her with long, smooth strokes.
“Please,” she whispered, her hot cheek pressed to the cool glass.
“Please what?” His tongue swiped across the pinched tip of a tormented nipple, then his mouth closed around both it and the clamp, sucking in rhythm to the rutting between her thighs.
“I want you.”
Max released her breast, and quickened his pace. Her hips rocked as much as they were able, her cries desperate, her * swollen and throbbing for the slight touch that would send her into orgasm. Deep inside, the feel of the wide, flared head stroking along the walls of her p-ssy made her head thrash from side to side, the only part of her body she was allowed to move.
He groaned and leaned against her, his skin coated in a fine sheen of sweat. His tongue licked the shell of her ear and then thrust inside.
“Don’t you want me, Max?” she gasped, dying from the need to climax, to move, to have more than a fake cock could ever give her.
“You drive me insane.” He nuzzled his damp forehead against her cheek.
“Is that a ‘yes’?”
If it was . . . if he felt the connection she did . . . What she wouldn’t give to find love a second time. Perhaps, in the end, it wouldn’t be with Max, but this was the closest she’d come to that emotion in over two centuries.
Suddenly his hand was at her throat, his mouth over hers, his knees braced against the window to support the thrusts of his hand.
Give me what I want.
The melding of his thoughts with hers was all the impetus she needed. Part of the taming was his ability to read her thoughts, but for her to know his meant the connection ran both ways.
The tension fled her body. Her sex spasmed with want, clutching greedily for what it needed . . .
“Please,” she breathed, aching to hold him. “I need you.”
Max tilted Victoria’s head back a split second before the collar appeared. The thin black ribbon looked so innocuous, but it bound her more than chains ever could. It would fade when she was paired with a warlock, become a part of her, just as her new master would.
The sight of the collar and the submission it signified made cum dribble from the head of Max’s aching cock, every cell in his body flaring with masculine triumph. He yanked the dildo free and tossed it away, releasing her from his spell, catching her limp, willing body in a protective embrace.
He’d almost given in, he had wanted her so badly. Feeling her body grasping for him, hungry for him, had driven him crazy. The only thing that held him back was concern for her. If he failed to bring her back from the edge, They would kill her. And that would kill him.
Clutching her close, Max used his powers to take them home—his home. There he lowered her gently to his velvetcovered bed and then cupped her thigh, spreading her wide. The sight of the glistening lips of her sex and tiny p-ssy made his balls draw up. The look in her eyes made his heart ache.
Hours. That’s all they had left.
He climbed over her, admiring the new curves she’d acquired with careful tending. Under his care, she’d lost the signs of neglect. As he caught one of her wrists and pulled it over her head, he never took his eyes from her, using magic to pull the velvet rope from the bedpost and bind her.
“Max.” A whisper, no more than that, as she lifted her other arm without urging and used her own power to restrain herself.
Victoria was the most powerful woman he’d ever known, both in their world and the world they shared with humans. Her submission of that power to his demands was a gift of such magnitude it captured his heart. His eyes burned, his throat clenched tight.
His kitten. His.
He took her then, in a swift sure thrust that joined them so tightly there was no separation. A raw sound tore from his throat as she climaxed instantly, sucking his cock with ripples of pleasure, luring him to come in her with hard, fierce spurts. Holding her shivering body tightly to his, Max pumped gently, draining his seed while prolonging her pleasure, absorbing her cries with pure infatuation.
Later, he laced his fingers with hers and rode her bound body again. Harder this time, releasing his passion in a brutal taking, his hips battering hers, his cock plunging deep.
Victoria accepted his lust with such beauty, her voice hoarse, her words barely audible over his labored breathing.
“Yes . . . yes . . . yes . . . ”
Taking all that he was, blossoming like a flower beneath him, lush with such promise. The places he could take her, the things he could teach her, the freedom he could give her . . .
But he was a Hunter groomed to join the Council, and They didn’t keep Familiars.
So Max took what he could, his tongue and lips working at her breast, drawing on her with hungry pulls, worrying the hard nipple against the roof of his mouth. His hands pinned her down, kept her still for the steady rise and fall of his hips, his cock working her into endless pleasure, giving her no rest, afraid to stop touching her. Afraid to lose her.
Keep her.
The compulsion rose up so unexpectedly that his rhythm faltered, suspending him at the deepest point of a downward plunge, his cock scalded by the hot clasp of her cunt.
“No!” she cried, struggling beneath him. “Don’t stop. Please . . . ”
How could he walk away? She’d sacrificed the life she’d built for herself to reenter his.
He would do the same for her. He needed to do the same for her.
“Never.” He growled and crushed her to him, resuming his claiming, his flushed cheek pressed to hers. “I’ll never stop. You’re mine. Mine.”
Victoria summoned the black robe Familiars wore when facing the Council and dressed silently. She’d preserved the garment all these years, saving it for the day she would face Them and exact her revenge. Now she donned it with a different purpose in mind.
As she prepared to leave, her eyes never strayed from the sleeping form on the bed. Max’s powerful body sprawled facedown, the red satin sheets riding low on his hips. Gorgeous.
She ached to touch him, to wake him, to look into those molten silver eyes one last time.
How dangerous he was, even in slumber.
Tears fell unchecked.
Lost in her, his mind had lowered its guards, his thoughts and feelings pouring into her in a flood of longing and affection that destroyed. He was willing to give up all that he’d worked for to keep her, and she couldn’t let him do it.
She couldn’t lose him like she lost Darius. The Council would be furious at being thwarted a second time. Their spite had cost her one love. She refused to let it cost her another.
Better to lose him to a life apart from her than to death.
So she covered her mouth to muffle her pain, and left him.