Netherworld II: Blood Potion No. 9 Page 6

  “Tasting good as always, little lady.”

  I felt so empty without him. Incomplete. I poured emotion into my eyes, begging him to fill me again. I wanted his long, thick cock with a desperation that made me cry anew.

  “Poor girl. My Brandilynn needs to come, doesn’t she?” Tristan smiled sympathetically. “In a little while. You’ve been a good girl so far. Just a little longer now.”

  I warmed at his praise. He knew how hard I’d tried. He was pleased. Now if he’d just shove his sex into mine…

  I was so happy as he crawled forward to crouch over me. Yes. I was eager for him to screw me silly, but I had to keep still, keep quiet. I wasn’t going to ruin this when I was so close to getting what I needed.

  Tristan pressed gentle kisses all over my face. He rubbed my nipples, still trapped in the clamps, to make me stiffen with reaction. He chuckled indulgently and rubbed harder for a moment. Then his hand traveled down, moving between us to grasp himself and position for entrance.

  A thrill shivered down my spine to feel the hard heat of him part my nether lips. Then he was slowly pressing in, filling me with his length. The gradual possession was as tormenting as the feeling of his fingers driving quick into me. I was crying again with the need to be taken with strength, to be drummed against until I came, allowing me to release all the pent-up exhilaration that almost hurt with its intensity.

  But Tristan was determined to make me wait, to keep me excruciatingly aware of who was boss in the bedroom. If you’ve never had a man who looked at you with a confusing combination of love and ruthlessness, then I can’t explain the stomach-churning emotion I was feeling right then. And I kept my place as the obedient submissive, accepting what my master deemed I may have.

  But gosh, how I wanted more.

  He slid into the body I had given him, his possession until our lovemaking was through. I lay there quietly, trembling, crying with need as he crept further and further in. I wanted to groan with relief when he finally reached the end, our bodies at last pressed as close together as they were allowed. The pleasurable pressure of his cock greeting my cervix had me bright with impending climax once more, and a slow convulsion waxed and waned in my pussy. Tristan’s eyebrows lifted.

  “You will wait for my permission, sub,” he warned, his voice cold. A hard palm smacked the side of one breast, which only got me hotter. But I made myself go utterly still. Control, I coached silently. Control it.

  Tristan propped himself up on his hands, like he was about to do pushups over me. He looked down, down to where our bodies became one. He began to draw himself out, watching as he emerged shiny wet with my juices.

  He took me slowly, watching his cock spear my pussy over and over. I watched too, loving how he stabbed in and out, taking me so completely, possessing me as a man was made to possess a woman.

  I am a strong-willed person, someone who likes complete and utter control of her life outside of the bedroom. There is nothing submissive about me when sex isn’t involved. But there are times when I think what it would be to give myself over to a man in every aspect, to let him hold sway over my life. It has only happened with a handful of men, and maybe only a dozen times in my thirty-five years. This was one of those times.

  I’m no doormat. But Tristan is so commanding, so masterful, so safe, that right now I thought of kneeling at his feet as he conducted business, of following in his wake, of anticipating and fulfilling his every need. I trusted and loved him that much that the thought teased me for a few seconds, wondering what it would be like to serve him at all times.

  Lust does some crazy stuff to my head every now and then. But all I had to do to snap out of it was remember that he’s a vampire half his afterlife. We will now return you to your regular Brandilynn, already back in progress.

  Tristan continued the slow taking, drawing in and out to make me feel every excruciating moment of intrusion and retreat. His muscles were corded, letting me know he wouldn’t be able to maintain the torment much longer. Soon his lust would take over, forcing him to take me hard and fast, allowing us both glorious dissolution. I only had to retain control until his need matched mine. But I was still on the brink, so close that the slightest thing could undo me.

  “Not yet,” he growled at me, intuiting as always my level of arousal. I chewed on the tie gagging me, fighting to keep whimpered pleas from creeping out to displease him.

  We were engaged in a united battle of wills against our bodies now, both of us determined to make me prove my obedience to Tristan. I could see the concentration on my lover’s face as he tortured himself as much as me by making himself hold back. Need worked his face as he took me. Small moans escaped him with every breath.

  I was being stretched to the breaking point, clammy sweat breaking out over my skin as I held off with all I had. Feeling Tristan moving in and out, the friction lighting sparks that threatened to send me over, was delicious and terrible all at once. And I had no choice but to keep my legs splayed wide open to accept his assault!

  Being a sub is a horribly wonderful thing.

  At last he couldn’t take anymore. Tristan fell over me, his body covering mine like a blanket as his hips beat against me in a desperate tattoo. His groin was tight to mine, rubbing my clit with every eager thrust. Blinding sensation licked through my lower body, dragging me towards climax.

  No, no, no. He hasn’t given permission.

  My eyes were squeezed shut, my jaw clenched in a teeth-shattering bite, my hands fisted until my fingernails bit into my palms. Tickling heat seized my loins, pulling me into the abyss. I was going over.

  No, darn it, hold on, he hasn’t said I can!

  I was at the top of the peak, excruciating bliss starting its cascade, laying hold and tensing to fling me out into space.

  NopleaseTristannowpleaserightnow!

  “Now, Brandilynn! Come now!”

  His shout came just as I dissolved into a gazillion tiny suns, all exploding at once in a cataclysm of white-hot oblivion. Orgasm hurled me into eternity, every cell seeming to swirl in its own delighted dance through the cosmos. I expanded and expanded until I must have broken the edges of the universe.

  When I coalesced back into my own little Planet Brandilynn, Tristan was laying on top of me once more, offering little moans while his cock twitched spasms inside me. I’d lost all sense of him during my explosion, hadn’t noticed his climax at all. Delayed gratification is good like that.

  After a little while Tristan began to stir. He propped himself on his elbows with considerable effort. “Ties off, sweetheart,” he whispered.

  With a wish, my gag was gone and my wrists free. His kiss was incredibly luscious, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him.

  “I think I died again,” I told him after our lips parted company.

  He chuckled. “Not such a bad way to go, huh?”

  “Not at all.”

  Looking at him, his handsome face smiling down at me, I thought, I really love you. I wished I could tell him.

  Bless his heart, Tristan has no such inhibitions, none of my issues with commitment. “I love you. Thanks for making me such a happy man.”

  I kissed him again. “You are the best master ever. I mean that. You are amazing.”

  He was so cute as he swelled with pride. “Decades of practice, my girl.”

  “Yeah, well it shows. I’m lucky to be your sub.”

  There was more cuddling, more heartfelt and undoubtedly disgustingly mushy compliments as we came down from the high of our play. We were so saccharine, anyone watching probably would have left the scene with scores of cavities.

  It was wonderful.

  Too soon it was time to leave each others’ arms. Tristan has duties, even when he’s dead, and I needed to get back on the case with the Beasts. I affected the leather dress I’d conjured earlier for Tristan’s admiration.

  “Maybe I should ride a motorcycle,” he said with a leer.

  I laughed. Tristan is so not the biker type. S
tick him in a limo. A Mercedes. He’d look right in a Rolls Royce. But a Harley? Or Bane’s chopper? Uh-uh.

  Looking impossibly elegant even in charcoal gray slacks and a black button-down shirt, Tristan embraced me goodbye. “Dan will be in to check on you from time to time. I want him to find out all the ATF knows while you keep tabs on the Beasts.”

  “Will do, boss.” I kissed the tip of his aristocratic nose.

  “Be careful, sweetheart. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

  The sudden attack of seriousness made me blink. A flutter erupted in my stomach. “Hey, this is Brandilynn Payson you’re talking to.”

  That made him smirk. “Exactly my point.”

  I pouted. Jeez, neither of my boyfriends had any faith in me to stay out of trouble.

  Chapter 4

  I returned to the Beasts’ club, sticking my head in cautiously to look out for the witch. I saw nothing but a couple of shifters playing pool and four women. The place was pretty dead during the day, apparently. Even the music was tolerable, the local hard rock station playing one of my favorite Shinedown tunes. Two women were cleaning the bar, adding the scent of Windex to the bouquet of booze, sweat, animal musk, and leather. The other two females, Fizz and C.K.’s gal pal Bottle, sat at a table with their heads together.

  I wondered what ‘property’ talked about when their owners weren’t around. How great it is to be at the beck and call of men who don’t see you as a viable person in your own right? How lovely to be given to a man for his use like a tie on Father’s Day? Shudder. Yeah, I know I’d been thinking about being slave to Tristan’s master earlier today, but it was just a little fantasy, one I hadn’t taken seriously for a moment. And Tristan wasn’t a jerk that saw me as a convenient piece of arse, there simply for him to use whenever he had the urge.

  I just couldn’t imagine being someone else’s ‘property’. Heck, I suck at being a steady girlfriend.

  I wandered over to the two ladies, hoping perhaps their gossip might clue me into what was nefarious at Club Beast. If you’re nothing more than another piece of furniture to the bad guys, maybe they let slip a secret or two?

  Fizz’s lean face was pinched with self-righteous anger. She had a bee in her bonnet for sure, and I soon found out why.

  “No matter what I do he won’t touch me. What man turns down willing pussy? I’m telling you, Bane is a fag.” She gestured wildly as she whispered, her cigarette sending arcing smoke signals around her head.

  Bottle nodded slowly, her expression grave as if discussing a terminally ill child. “C.K. needs to know. We don’t want their kind in here.”

  I had to snort my disbelief. Thank goodness no one here could hear me make such a gross, unladylike sound. “So criminals and murderers are okay, but homosexuals aren’t? When do the smart pills show up in Stupid Land, girls?”

  C.K. walked into the room from the back, looking like a cross between a fire hydrant and Porky Pig. Good gosh, he was squat and ugly. He waved acknowledgement to the guys playing pool when they sent out greetings. He parked himself at the table he’d sat at the night before and bellowed, “Bottle! Drink!”

  I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. He sounded like a mean baby. I waited for him to yell, “Diaper! Poopie!”

  “I’ll talk to him,” Bottle said to Fizz.

  She got up from the table to leave Fizz smoking in righteous indignation. Bottle was wearing a jean jacket that had Property of C.K. stitched on the back. Pride in being owned, I guessed. I shook my head.

  She had C.K.’s 180-proof whiskey to him in a jiffy, earning a slap on the rear that made her stagger. She smiled at C.K. like he’d just presented her with a diamond tiara and kneeled by his chair.

  “Tits,” he growled, and she went topless immediately in front of everyone. His hands worked her freckled, brown-tipped breasts without looking at them or her.

  Jeez. What a goon.

  “C.K., there’s a problem with one of your guys,” she said in a trembling voice that suggested she might get backhanded for daring to speak.

  “This better be good, Bottle. You know I don’t want to hear stupid shit like some guy grabbed your ass or had you suck him. That’s what you’re here for.” He pinched her nipple hard enough that a tear ran down one of her cheeks. She squirmed the least little bit but didn’t make a complaint.

  “No C.K., it’s serious. One of ‘em might be queer.”

  He finally looked at her, his gaze cold. He pinched the other nipple hard, and she whimpered. One side of his mouth twisted up. “Go on.”

  She wriggled with delight to have his undivided attention and positively gushed as she got Bane into trouble. My sympathy for this low-esteem woman waned as Bottle whispered to C.K.

  Bottle was still running her mouth when Bane walked in with three other Beast members, calling out gruff hellos as they entered. The way C.K. scowled let me know big trouble was up.

  I acted fast, barely thinking about what I was doing. I was at Fizz’s side in an instant. I shoved my way into her, taking over her body.

  This was way different from channeling in Isabella’s body. The channel opens herself, allowing me to sink effortlessly into her head. In her trance, she’s not really aware of my presence.

  This was more like a rape, something I wasn’t proud to do to Fizz. It’s also considered a huge no-no in the para world, the epitome of bad behavior. This was an emergency though, so I bullied my way in, seizing control from the stripper, making her body mine. Inside her head, I felt her shrink away from my alien intelligence in fear and confusion. She didn’t put up a fight, and I was able to make her body awkwardly rise and hurry to Bane’s side. She was lighter and much easier to move in than the cuddly bulk of Isabella, but I still felt like I slogged along in mud. Physical bodies are heavy. Not to mention her jeans were too freakin’ tight. I felt like my legs had been straitjacketed.

  At least there was no difference between her reality and the spirit world. Not having to look at two different scenes helped.

  Bane stood alone, his companions having gone straight to the bar. He looked at me as I joined him with a kind of resigned irritation. “Not now, Fizz.” He started to walk away.

  I grabbed him by the back of his neck and yanked him close to whisper close to his face. He was too tall to talk into his pointed wolf ear, which was situated higher on his head than a human’s.

  I kept my voice super low, hoping his animal-sensitive hearing would pick up the barely breathed words. “Shut up and listen to me. I’m not Fizz; I’m a ghost who has taken over her body. You’re in big trouble right now, Double-Oh-Seven.”

  Bane stared down at me, his golden eyes going wide. His gaze darted around the room, and then he grabbed Fizz’s upper arm to haul our shared body to a quiet cobwebbed corner. I winced at the tight grip but made no complaint. I’d already behaved in a very non-property way in grabbing the werewolf. I didn’t dare look around to see if anyone had noticed Fizz becoming assertive.

  Once he had me backed into the corner, Bane growled low and threatening. “Fizz isn’t smart enough to come up with shit like this. Who the hell are you?”

  Sure no one would pickup our whispered conversation, I took advantage of it to warn him. “Watch the language, buster. I’m a lady. Fizz is upset because you won’t give her a ride on Magic Mountain, and now C.K. thinks you’re gay. Apparently, that’s a big deal in Stupid Land here.”

  Bane scowled. “A very big deal.”

  From his chair, C.K. roared, “Bane, front and center!”

  The werewolf agent’s lips wrinkled back for an instant, displaying very wicked looking teeth. “Stay put right here. I want to talk to you after I settle this.”

  Well, so much for good manners. “You’re welcome,” I reminded him.

  Not picking up the hint, Bane walked away without thanking me. After a moment, I followed. I wasn’t property after all. That was Fizz’s gig. Besides, I thought I might be of help if I stuck close.

&n
bsp; My borrowed heart picked up speed as Levi presented himself to the gang’s leader.

  “How’s it going, boss?” Bane asked mildly as he drew close to C.K.

  Everyone had halted whatever they were doing and crowded close to see what had their little piggy of a boss grouchy. And grouchy he was with his forehead furrowed, eyes narrowed, and fists clenched. Next to him, Bottle kneeled with a smirk on her face.

  No, she’d used up all my sympathy where I was concerned. If I was a cursing girl, I’d have a few choice names I’d call her.

  “It’s not so good, Bane. I hear you’re not happy with Fizz.” C.K.’s muddy eyes cut to the body I currently occupied. I felt Fizz shrivel at his angry stare. I kept her expression as blank as I could. I swear she tried to hide behind my consciousness.