Page 98 of Vampire's Choice
“Talking you into feeding fully from me.” Yes, the choice had been his, but she had pushed, hard.
Merc dropped her hand and crossed to the table behind the chair. The item he lifted was a ball gag. One with a screw through the ball, a crank on the outside. “After I put this in your mouth and strap it on your head, I turn the screw. It pushes the ball into your throat. Up to three inches. Good training for teaching a sub to take her Master’s cock as deep as he wants it to go. You did well the other night, but you could do better.”
“You think three inches is far enough?” She tossed out the challenging sass, even as her insides quaked.
He draped his forearms on the top of the chair, the gag dangling in his right hand. His look was a shuddering caress of her exposed skin. The energy drifting off of him was closing around her. “Enough to shut you and that mouth of yours up. Take off that dress that attracted far too many male eyes.” His eyes gleamed. “Leave the shoes. Then turn around, your hands clasped and resting on your ass.”
She wanted this. Wanted it badly, but suddenly she was frozen, teetering over an abyss containing every worst fear she’d had about making it a reality.
He didn’t admonish her, which might have made her get pissy, letting her fear start a fight. Instead, he went for a more devastating tactic.
“Once a servant is bound to the vampire, all choices belong to the vampire. Isn’t that correct?”
She managed a nod.
“You can choose me as your Master, make it the rule between us for tonight, but if you want a different choice, you would be wise to run from me.”
She didn’t run. Not from anyone. And she suspected, no matter what he said, if she ran from him…
She bolted. Proving that whenever they’d played this game, it was a game, him indulging her, he caught her almost before she began to move. He pinned her back against him, his wings brushing her sides. When she tried to stab his feet with the heels, he lifted her and pressed his erection against her ass, through the thin cloth, a reminder that it was just her beneath.
“So you didn’t mean it,” she said. “I don’t get to choose.”
“No. You don’t.” His breath passed over her cheek. She smelled vanilla cake, and wondered if Charlie made extra this time, to plan for his pilfering. “You’ve taunted, defied and insulted me. All because you knew there were consequences, and that twisted, hot place inside you longed to see what those consequences would be. Kick off the shoes. Now.”
When she did, he put her down. “Lift your hair and stand still.”
As she raised her arms, holding the weight of her hair in her damp palms, he released the clasp of the slim and sparkling choker, sending it tumbling down with the sternum strap. Then he pushed the dress down, over her ass and thighs, letting it fall around her ankles.
“I thought you promised to shred it,” she said, trying to hold onto a bit of humor among the nerves.
“Charlie loaned it to you. I won’t cause you the wrong kind of trouble.” His touch followed the bumps of her spine. She could feel him staring down at her breasts, lifted and displayed in the satin demi bra. “I knew from how it clung to your ass you had no panties under it. I almost claimed you then. Brought you here. But I wanted to see your reaction to everything, because it would make my cock harder and thicker, and I could demand more from that pretty mouth and tight cunt.”
He unclasped the bra and let it fall. He trailed his knuckles along the sides of her breasts, making her skin prickle, her nipples tighten further.
“They don’t look as impressive without it.”
“Your breasts are everything I want them to be. There is nothing about you that disappoints me.”
Her heart stuttered, then went back into full hammer mode. He caressed her arms, still lifted and holding the mass of her dark hair. Until he closed his grip around her wrists and pulled them away. The strands untwisted and tumbled, some falling forward over her breast and nipple.
Stepping back, he adjusted her arms so they were behind her, her wrists in one hand. A gasp escaped her as he pushed against her knee and dropped her to a kneeling position. Then he let her wrists go and put her on all fours, crouching over her, his breath again on her nape. “Show me what your animal instincts are telling you, Ruth,” he said.
Trembling all over, she went to her elbows, dropping her head to her forearms, tilting her chin to the left, so he could see her eyes were lowered. She spread out her knees. Lifted her hips.
His breath left him, a harsh whisper that hit the edge of a growl and made her tremble more.
“Good.” He gathered up her hair, twisted it in his fist and brought her back up, standing on her knees. He stepped in front of her. When she dared to look at him from beneath her lashes, he was staring at her body even more intently, taking in every inch of flesh, every quiver.
She felt like every emotion was equally exposed. She couldn’t handle it. She had to fight.
“No.” His grip tightened. “There will be no fighting me tonight, Ruth. Give yourself this. Stay where I put you. Hands behind you again. Knuckles on your beautiful ass.”
He eased his grip until she stood on her knees on her own. When he returned to that table, he bypassed the gag he’d left in the seat of the chair when she bolted, but she was sure he hadn’t forgotten it.
Then her worry about that was replaced by horror at what he produced this time. “Oh, hell no.”
Merc chuckled, dropped to his heels and nipped her shoulder, pricking her sharply enough a drop of blood welled up. The breast harness he carried was pink. My princess was stamped on it in silver.