Page 132 of Vampire's Choice
“Yes,” he told her. “Stay in the now, Ruth.”
She came to him, but wouldn’t kneel. His lip curled and he gripped her hair, using that hold to pull her to her knees and put her face against his cock. He’d pushed the shorts out of the way, so the heat and steel of it brushed her mouth, her cheek. She inhaled a musky, earth and rain scent.
“If you bite me, I’ll put a fistful of sand up your stubborn backside.”
“Just the sand, or does the fist come with it?”
His thumb slid into the corner of her mouth, wrenching it open, and his cock came in behind it, thrusting deep. She choked, adjusted as he’d taught her with the screw gag, and that was all it took. Her body slid into a blissful pool where there was nothing but serving her Master, a place she’d so rarely had the chance to go, she thought she’d never take the privilege for granted.
She gripped his taut thighs, her eyes closing. His energy reached for her as her arousal built. Its feathered touch slid over her skin, then down between her legs, in between her buttocks, over her throat and shoulders, against her breasts, a firm, squeezing, kneading, stroking hold that immobilized her.
Literally. She made a startled noise. She was frozen on her knees, caught in the miasma of sexual energy, unable to move. She was helpless.
Terror, bliss, wonder. They tied together in a needy knot. He took over, pumping into her mouth, feeding off her rocketing sexual arousal, tangled with the trepidation.
The fear was part of the meal, too. He’d told her that. But this wasn’t the terrible fear of dying she’d experienced during the third mark, channeling his victims. This was the right kind of fear. No decision to make about giving him control, because he simply took it.
Had she thought sexual arousal had a limit or definition, that it reached a certain ceiling before it peaked? If so, she’d been wrong. With an incubus who not only had access to her body, but to her soul, fully marked, all of it his, there were no limits.
You may fight me, struggle, but you belong to me in every way.
She couldn’t speak to argue, but she didn’t know that she would have. I’m frightened.
It’s not the wrong kind of fear. He confirmed her thoughts. That has a different taste. Yours…is better.
Her eyes could move. She found his attention upon her face. “I like that. Keep looking at me. Beautiful vampire, with her mouth full of my cock, taking care of her Master.”
At least you didn’t say little vampire.
His mouth twisted in that sinful grin, and he leaned down, whispered against her ear as he nipped it, teased the shell with his tongue. “Little vampire. Sweet, bite-sized morsel I will devour, over and over and over.”
His power feathered against her labia, a targeted stroke that vibrated through the rest of her cunt. When mewls were humming in her throat, tiny pleas, he built the reaction, an ever-climbing spiral of response that targeted erogenous zones until the throbbing reactions spread out, collided and consumed all of her.
She moaned his name against his cock, another plea. He drove in harder, and she choked, then steadied. He was telling her to keep her mind on her job, even as he took her apart in every other way.
The more helpless and crazy she became, the more she recognized how bound she was. He would take her as high as he desired. His sharp gaze pierced her heart like that barbed hook in the dark place in his soul, a spear through her torso. All the contrasts, the resistance and yearning together, were unbearable.
But she had to bear it. Because that was his will.
Yes. I would hear you call me Master in a sweet, female voice, all your armor and warrior nature stripped away. I want the little girl deep inside, Ruth. The woman, the maiden, the Goddess. I want them all to belong to me.
His gaze flickered, as if he’d tapped into something deeper in himself than he’d expected, but he grasped it, took ownership of it, the way he did her.
From her side, she knew this lay at the heart of him, the part that had an answer in her, no matter how crazy such a bond could be, no matter what destructive path it could take them down.
Or maybe it wouldn’t be destructive at all.
The climax arrived like the weight of the entire ocean, crashing through her. It kept coming and coming and coming, over and through her body, pushing her under, holding her down. But it stopped short of letting her go over that final peak, where full bliss awaited. He had her on a tether, holding her back, denying her that fulfillment.
Her moan became strangled screams. He put his fingers under her chin, stroked her working throat. Then he tipped his head back and released, fluids flooding her mouth, thigh muscles rock hard and flexing under her fingertips. Though she couldn’t move, she savored the sensation of his skin brushing against them. Every touch, every friction was up to him. She was surrounded by all of it, and her strength was flagging, her body caught in a vise of need and want, but it didn’t matter. He held her up.
He continued to feed from her, measured portions that wouldn’t drain her but made it clear she provided him what he needed. She was his sustenance.
When he withdrew from her mouth, she was shuddering. He put his lips against hers and gave her a gift, the ability to move her mouth over his, the way she had over his cock. The gift made her sob.
Her scream became raw as he put his thumb against her clit, two fingers sliding inside her to stroke the upper wall behind it, that explosive and responsive point within.
He let the tether go, just enough.