Her Vampire Temptation (Midnight Doms Book 8) Read online

  I try to smile, but it comes out a bit wobbly. “Not that we’re dating. I don’t mean that. This is just a one-time thing. Two time. Whatever.” I force myself to stop babbling.

  Please, please don’t dismiss me.

  “I would never dismiss you for such a thing.” His voice is hoarse.

  I start, both at the passion, and the way he used the exact word in my mind. My eyes widen.

  “I mean,” he blinks and adds, quickly, “you’re worth more than that. It would be a foolish man who let you go for that.”

  “Thank you.” I’m touched.

  “Thank you for trusting me with your truth.” He sounds oddly formal. Almost guilty, even, which is weird.

  “Well, the truth shall set you free,” I say although I’ve forgotten the author of the quote. “Right?”

  “Sometimes it can do the opposite. You have to choose your confidantes well.” He runs a finger down my face. “In this case, you got it right. You can trust me.” He rests his hand on my cheek.

  “Well, you can trust me, too.” I smile at him. Put a hand on top of his hand. It’s a very tender moment, especially compared to how we met. What we did last time we were together, on a night that was supposed to be a one and done.

  He puts both hands on each side of my face. “Any more questions…for now?” He raises a brow.

  I whisper. “No.”

  “Then may I suggest we move to the bedroom?” He leans in so his lips barely brush mine. “And share some more secrets?”

  Our breaths mingle, and my head swims.

  “Okay.” I’m still whispering. There’s something hypnotic about his eyes. I feel drugged in a mystical way, like I’ve been in a room of incense and meditation and people chanting ohm for hours. “I’d like that.”

  “Yes, you will.” He takes my hand in his like before, and I marvel at how strong he is. His fingers are long, and his hang engulfs mine. I can see his power, and it warms my heart to see how softly he’s guiding me. And how rough he might be in just a few minutes, when he uses that hand to punish my ass.

  I suck in a small breath, thinking about it. He laughs. “That’s right,” he murmurs. “I will do that.”

  I blink. “How did you…”

  “Oh, I can guess what you want.” He’s casual, confident.

  I don’t know how he keeps getting into my head. It’s not natural.

  Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you. I’ll only do it to help make it better for you –

  I shake my head. “Alain?” Did he speak out loud?

  “Come.”

  His room is full of dark wood and dim lights. The bed seems like a display model, full of a perfect burgundy cover and tons of throw pillows. I can’t shake the feeling that it’s not been used; it looks too—artistic. Like it’s here just to look at, like so many of the other items in his home.

  But I forget that when he closes the door behind us with a quiet but solid click.

  “Alone at last,” he says, his voice light.

  “We were alone before.”

  “Alone with intent.” He smiles. “Take off your dress.”

  “Just like that?” I raise my eyebrows.

  “Yes.” He sits on a straight-backed chair at the side of the room and crosses one ankle over the other knee. Undoes his tie. “You know the rules, don’t you?”

  “But the rules changed. We said one night, and yet here we are.”

  I step closer to the chair and reach back to undo my zipper.

  “Mmm, and I’m glad about that.” He tosses his tie to the ground beside the chair and undoes the first button on his shirt. “The other rules are the same. You do what I say, when I say it. Or suffer the consequences.” He drawls it out, emphasizing the word suffer, which is enough to make my pussy wetter than before.

  “Unless I say red.” I slide the dress off my shoulders, smiling at the way his pupils dilate and his body tenses.

  “The only things you’ll be saying are Alain and please.” He unbuttons one cuff and slowly rolls the sleeve up, folding it over carefully several times.

  My eyes widen as his powerful forearm is revealed. “Maybe you’ll be saying please to me.”

  I let the dress slide down my body, wiggling my hips to tug it lower. When it pools at the floor and I step out of it, in just a bra and a thong, his eyes glitter with desire. I feel the power of my own sexuality, and the resulting exhilaration is even more intoxicating than wine.

  “What do you want, Bri?” His eyes are so powerful. So deep.

  “What we did last time. Like that, again.” I swallow.

  “Okay.” He smiles. “What else?”

  “Surprise me.” I undo my bra and toss it over to where he dropped his tie. “Like what you see? Want to do any begging?” I giggle and step closer. Fuck, I want him so badly.

  I’m expecting him to come back immediately with some kind of dommy, snarky reply, but the look in his eyes—so surprisingly tender—has me doing a double take.

  Then he shakes his head and gestures with his finger. “You are being extremely insolent, my dear. I’m afraid I’m going to have to punish you.”

  Chapter 14

  Bri

  He gives me that wicked smile, the one that sends spires of arousal all the way from my nipples to my clit.

  “Oooh, big surprise.” I raise my eyebrows and sashay closer. “Never would I have expected those words to come out of your ….aaah!”

  I shriek out in surprise as he reaches out, lightning fast, and grabs me. In less than a second, I’m over his lap, ass up, arms and legs dangling down. I’m laughing and startled and turned on all at the same time.

  Just like in the club, I recognize that this is the moment I love: When it all starts. The beginning of the game. It’s exhilarating.

  There’s nothing in the world like it—when you’re about to start a delicious scene, with all the sexy possibilities in the world in front of you. I’m addicted to this feeling.

  “Once again,” he murmurs, “you act like this is just a game.” He slides his hand over my ass, stroking. Then my thighs. “Just for some light fun. But imagine if I owned you?” He runs his fingers over my waist, then down my legs. Up. “Completely? And obeying me was locked into your very psyche?”

  “Mmm…” I moan. His words touch a part of me that has long been dormant. To be honest, I sort of feel like I’m already there.

  “Think how much you’d love serving me, doing my bidding.” He strokes my inner thighs, and I part my legs just a bit to give him access, in case he wants to touch. “And rest assured, your punishments for any transgressions would be far more severe than anything you’ve felt so far.” He taps my ass once, a light slap.

  I moan again. “Alain, God, I could come just if you do that again,” I murmur.

  He laughs. “No, you won’t. You’re going to wait for permission, like last time. No matter how long it takes. Promise me.”

  “Okay, I promise.” I wiggle my body, sending little sparks to my clit.

  “Not like that. Call me Master. Promise you won’t come until I give permission.” His voice is suddenly colder. Stern.

  I speak immediately. “Alain. Master. I won’t come until you grant me permission.” And with the words, it’s like something locks into my mind with an audible click. I can almost feel the power I’ve given him surrounding me. And it turns me on even more.

  “Good.” He sounds satisfied. Pleased. “If you come too soon, I’ll give you a dozen with the cane and make you stand in the corner before giving you another few to follow up, Bri.”

  I suck in my breath. “That’s mean!” I blink rapidly. “I wouldn’t like that.”

  I might, though.

  It turns me on to think about bending over, exposing my ass. Alain standing there, dominant and strong, flexing a supple, wicked cane in his hand. Then having him raise it up and bring it down hard across my buttocks…ooooh.

  I press my thighs together at the thought. Would I like it? I might.

/>   “Yes, you probably would like it. But I think you’d like other things better,” he murmurs. “The cane would be a deterrent. To train you out of bad behavior. To teach you what not to do, so you could better serve me.”

  With that, he spanks my ass, hard.

  “Ow.” It feels good, and I like it.

  “Oh, that was nothing. You just wait.” He spanks me again. “This time you can talk all you want, sweet girl. But I won’t stop until I think you’ve had enough. And –“

  He cuts me off as I start to say something—“And if you mouth off, I’ll only spank you longer. Harder.”

  I whimper in need, then yelp as his hand comes down again and again. He’s spanking hard right off the bat, and it hurts. There’s no warm up, no time to acclimate to the sensation. Just his solid palm, over and over until my ass burns.

  “Alain, stop!” I wiggle in vain, trying to pull myself away from his grip.

  “Oh, baby, you’ve got a ways to go,” he chides me, and continues his assault on my bottom. “And are you supposed to tell me to stop, hmm?” He spanks harder, which I didn’t think was possible, until I squeal out my response.

  “No! I’m not. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  “Master,” he reminds me, delivering some especially hard slaps to my thighs.

  “Ow. Master! I’m sorry, Master.”

  “Say it like you mean it.” His voice is firm, determined. Cool.

  My mind swims, and it feels like I’m reeling, falling, and he’s going to catch me. But if he does, he’ll own me…completely.

  And I let myself go. “Master,” I whisper, raising my ass up a fraction. “I’m sorry.”

  “Good.” Did he say it, or I am imagining it in my mind? His voice fills my consciousness. His scent envelops me. All I can do is focus on his hand, spanking my ass.

  It burns, it stings, but he’s in charge—and letting him decide when I’m done is such a turn on that I really do think I could come. A few more hard spanks, ones that allow me to push my hips down into his thighs –

  “Bri, are you allowed to do that?” He stops spanking. But it’s like he wants to tease me harder because he inserts his finger under the string of my panties and tugs, forcing the fabric to pull at my clit. As the sensation intensifies my need, the arousal grows more powerful.

  “I’m...” I pant a little bit. “Oh, Alain….” I can’t even find words. The sting on my ass is exquisite and mixed with the pleasure starting to burn in my belly, I just want more of everything.

  “I think we’ll do just one with the cane as a lesson.” He moves fluidly, sliding me into his arms. Strides to the bed and deposits me carefully before I can process what’s happening.

  Before I know it, he’s got me arranged lying on my stomach, with a pillow under my hips, my legs spread slightly. Arms in front of me. He carefully slides the panties down my thighs. “Ah, completely naked,” he drawls, “and all for me. I like you this way.”

  “Alain.” I close my eyes and see swirls of color. My whole body sparks with pleasure.

  “I think I’ll tie your hands,” he muses aloud. “Even though you’re quite obedient, I want to make sure you know that you’re mine tonight. That I’ll do what I want with you.”

  He steps away and comes back with the tie he tossed aside earlier. “Hands together.” He laces the fabric around both of my wrists and knots it expertly. So fast. “You could get out of this,” he murmurs, bending down, one hand on my burning ass, the other holding my hair in one hand. He kisses my neck. “But you won’t. Because you want to be my prisoner.”

  “Yes,” I moan. His hand on my ass is torture—I want him to stroke away the burn. Maybe to spank more. Definitely I want his fingers between my thighs instead of atop my buttocks, if I had a choice.

  He slaps me once. Chuckles. “I like you tied up. I should do this every night.”

  I want you to. Did I say it or think it?

  My stomach flips at the thought. I never plan to see lovers more than once these days, since I gave up on relationships. Here we are for a second time, and already I’m dreaming of a future?

  But when he comes back with the cane, all I can focus on is the present moment.

  He shows it to me, a long, thin bamboo rod. Flexes it. “This can be used like silk, or it can do serious damage.”

  I shudder. Well, I did say to surprise me.

  He touches my shoulder. “I won’t damage you. But this will hurt, my dear. Think about whether or not you’d really like a dozen, next time you’re inclined to disobey.”

  He swishes the cane through the air behind me, and I flinch, expecting to feel it on my ass.

  But it was just a practice run. He does it again. “Using a cane takes skill, you know. I’m a master. Perhaps I’ll accustom you to its bite and turn you into as much of an aficionado as I am.”

  I make an incoherent noise and wiggle. I’m dying with anticipation.

  “Oh, no moving,” he chides. “Part of taking the cane is learning to be still for it. Accept the punishment.”

  “But I…” My heart beats so rapidly that I think I’ll pass out.

  “Tell me you want this, Bri. Ask your master for the cane.”

  I feel new moisture between my thighs even as pangs of fear and adrenaline flow through my body. Because in this moment, he is my master. I’ll do whatever he asks.

  “Master, please. I want the cane.”

  “By all means, let me indulge you.” His voice holds humor and a burr of arousal.

  Then I hear the swish and crack of the cane. For a split second there’s no sensation. Then I scream out loud because I swear, he’s put a bar of furnace-hot steel across my ass. I swear it’s burning. I’m dying.

  “Ow, ouch, oh my God.” I wriggle furiously, tugging at the tie. “Fuck!”

  He pushes my shoulder, firm but gentle. “That was one. Do you want another?”

  I settle down immediately, eyes going wide. “No.”

  He rubs my ass, and murmurs something, and the fire subsides just enough to be bearable. “So maybe you wish to avoid more strokes with the cane, yes?”

  “Yes, no more cane, please. Alain. Master.” I’m babbling.

  “Good.” He swishes it once again, then tosses it aside. “Keep in mind I can always fetch it again, if necessary. If I need to correct you. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, I’ll be good, I promise.” I whimper and then sigh in relief as he strokes my ass again. I pull at the tie, but it doesn’t yield. Knowing I’ve willingly given myself over to him to do with as he pleases has turned me into a ball of need. Just sensation.

  He’s still fully dressed while I’m naked, but now he stands and pulls off his shirt. His pants. Eventually he’s naked, and although I’m tied up on my stomach, my burning ass still elevated on the pillow, I can turn my head to see him.

  And he’s phenomenal.

  Last time the club was so dark that I barely got to examine his body.

  Tonight, the room is bright enough, so I can see every muscle, every plane. And that glorious, hard long cock. It’s thick and firm…and huge. I know, because I felt it last time. Seeing it, though, is even more arousing.

  “Last time, you rode me. Today, I’ll do the work. Up for just a second.” He taps my ass, and I lift my hips up, then he gently pulls the pillow out from under me, running his hands down my body as he arranges me anew.

  His touch is expert, soft. Practiced. “Stay still while I touch you,” he whispers. His fingers stroke away the pain from the cane, tracing the welt he left behind until instead of hurting, I swear it blazes with sweetness. He ducks his hand between my legs for a quick second, stroking along my pussy until he finds my clit.

  I gasp and push into his hand. “Alain.”

  “Look at you wearing the mark of my cane.” He strokes my ass, then my clit, alternating until I’m dying with the need to come. “I fucking love it. God, how you’d look with a dozen or more stripes on your ass. Feeling it the next day and thinking of
me every single moment. Maybe you’ll learn to love the cane after all, hmmm?”

  “If you make me feel like this afterwards, I just might.” I open my legs wider, hoping to entice him.

  “I’ll always make you feel like this.” His words are rough, like he means it. He softens his tone. “All night long.”

  He kisses the curve of my waist, glides his hands over the sides of my breasts.

  I exhale and lift up, hoping he’ll slide his hands under and play with my nipples, but instead he strokes my hips, both sides. “So pretty.” His voice is low, and I can barely hear him, but the emotion comes through. Raw. Needy. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

  I hum in response, closing my eyes.

  “Turn over for me.” His voice is low, hoarse. He helps me flip over and arranges my hands—still tied, over my head. My hair is all wild, cascading down my shoulders, and he strokes it out of my face. “Look at you.” He smiles. His eyes are dark and mysterious. “My captive.”

  Now he touches my breasts, tweaking the nipples softly, grazing them with just the tips of his fingernails until I squirm and cry out in pleasure. “Alain!”

  He’s kneeling over me, hands on mine, pushing them into the pillows. His body is so close. “Mine,” he whispers.

  “Maybe you’re my captive, too.” I spread my thighs. “And I don’t even need bonds.”

  I say it as a joke, but when he doesn’t respond—at least not with words. There’s something in his eyes, something fierce and powerful. And although he says nothing, a small smile plays on his lips.

  Finally, he speaks. “We’ll see.” And then he bends down and takes my lips with his, and I lose all sense of time.

  His mouth on my tits, sucking, biting until I cry out, then licking until I squeal with pleasure. His hands, warm—on my shoulders. My belly.

  “I’m going to bite you again,” he says. I think. The words reverberate in my skull, echoing softy.

  “Mmm…” I close my eyes and shift my body.

  Then I feel his teeth on my inner thigh. I gasp and cry out, but the sharp pain turns to immediate pleasure as he sucks over the wound. It’s like a tiny orgasm on that patch of skin. It’s unbelievably hot, and my clit throbs with need. “Alain.” My voice is hoarse.