Waiting shows obedience.
She kept her head bowed as she sat in the playroom. If he’d only find his way to the playroom tonight. She stifled the shiver working its way up her spine as the mental image of him sharpened in her mind.
Tristan LeMere wasn’t any man. He was one of the oldest vampires in the United States. Rumor had it he didn’t play more than once with any individual and didn’t take subs.
Behind her, the door creaked, signaling its opening. The scent, something fresh with a hint of spice, like sea air wafted to her. She didn’t need to see to know who’d entered the room. The soft thump of his footsteps on the carpet radiated through her veins. Cream coated her inner thigh as he stepped closer. She wanted his hands all along her body, touching her, needing her.
The simple command spoken in his gravelly voice shot straight to her core. He came to her. Being on her knees for more than an hour’s time hadn’t been kind, and she wobbled forward. A lump of embarrassment lodged in her throat. Her failure to comply would inevitably lead to his exit. Sirs didn’t approve of misbehavior unless part of the play.
Tristan wrapped his arms around her, scooping her into his embrace. Every nerve ending stood at attention. The gentle breeze moved around her as he took her from the playroom. She counted the steps. Twenty-seven. Was he about to toss her out of the club? She strained to hear anything to clue her in to her surroundings. Nothing. Sweet silence. Releasing her from his grasp, he’d placed her on something soft. She scrambled into the waiting position, hands behind her back still in the cuffs, head bowed, and on her knees.
“You don’t look relaxed.” His breath warmed her skin. Her nipples pebbled in both anticipation and need. “These need to go.” The soft silk of his shirt slid over her arms as he worked open the cuffs. “Do you wish to see me, pet?”
Clasping her hands together, she clenched her teeth. The proper answer was none, although a spanking might be a fitting punishment. Whatever it took to have his hands on her body.
“You may answer.”
She hesitated. “Yes, Sir.”
“Close your eyes.” Tristan removed the blindfold and brushed her hair from her forehead. As her eyesight adjusted to the dim light, she glanced around at her surroundings. Maroon carpet lined the floor while sumptuous black silk spread out beneath her on the bed. This wasn’t a playroom she’d used. She steadied her view on her bare thighs.
“Look at me, pet. I want you to see your lover.”
The breath rushed from her chest. Her lover? He couldn’t be serious.
“I’m very serious, Melissa.”
Forgetting her training, she peered up at him. Brown eyes the shade of freshly brewed coffee stared back at her. The start of a smile quirked on his lips.
“Lay back against the sheets. I want to look my fill.”
Fear paralyzed her for a split second. What else did he know about her? Melissa slid her hands to her sides and eased back onto the silken bedding. Her mouth watered as she visually caressed him. Ebony hair fell in a hank across his forehead. A dusting of coal colored stubble sprinkled across his pale cheeks and chin. What would it feel like if he abraded her skin as he tasted her?
“I’ve waited for this moment—for you.” Tristan slid the back of his index finger along the curve of her inner thigh. “So soft.” The smile on his lips deepened as he knelt between her legs. “I knew your scent the moment you came into Club Hex.” With the tip of his tongue, he skimmed over her clit. His fingers dug into her legs, pressing them farther apart. Heat vibrated through her being. “I had to be sure.”
Another swipe of his tongue brought her closer to the edge of bliss—no farther. “I’ve waited over three hundred years for you. I feared you’d never work up the courage.”
“Take me,” she whimpered. Fear be damned. She rocked her hips, inviting him to have all of her. “Please?”
“You speak out of turn.” Tristan backed away, leaving her on the cusp. “Punishment will come later.”
Unbuttoning one silvery button at a time, he opened his shirt, revealing the smattering of inky hair between his nipples. She longed to run her fingers over the planes of his chest, to learn the textures of him. Tristan shrugged out of the shirt as if it were a bother and sat in the nearby easy chair. He patted his jean clad thigh.
Melissa scooted off the bed and dropped to one knee. She paused when he touched her cheek. “Beautiful, pet. Now release me. I want to feel you sink onto me.”
With trembling hands, she worked the zipper on his trousers. His cock, at least eight inches, popped free from his silken boxer shorts. The tip of his erection glistened with precum. Because of her? She ran her thumb over the thick vein on the underside of his cock and allowed the momentary fantasy to form in her mind. Fucking—him clothed and her bare.
A low groan slid past his lips. “Yes, pet.” His eyelids drooped. “Take me in. Live out your fantasy.”
Melissa drew in a long breath. She straddled his lap and positioned his cock at the mouth of her pussy. Inch by inch, she fitted them together. Tristan grasped her hips, tugging her to take him fully. She whimpered—not out of pain, but pleasure. He filled her, stretched her.
“Do you wish to be mine? Tell me, pet.”
She moaned as he slowly pistoned into her. Did she want him to claim her? With every last micron in her body. She opened her mouth to speak, but with each surge into her, words escaped her. Tristan LeMere made thinking downright impossible.
Bringing her back to reality, his hand splayed on her ass. The crack resounding from the spanking split the air. Pleasure pain spiked through her veins as she matched his rhythm with her own. Another slap echoed on her bottom.
“Mine.” His voice wavered. With need? Desire?
“Yes.” The word came out on a sigh. She fisted her hands. “Yes, Sir.”
“I can’t wait.” Tristan added a third spanking and slammed deep into her pussy. “Need you now.”
“Claim me.” Melissa turned her head to the side and offered her neck. As his teeth pierced her skin, the orgasm in her loins exploded. Lights flashed behind her eyes. The desire to settle in his arms and cat nap came to mind. Gasping for breath, Melissa fought to remain motionless in his lap.
“Melissa, look at me.” When her gaze met his, he leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. “Do you know why I waited to claim you?”
He’d told her to speak earlier, but that was then.
“I want you to speak freely, beloved.” Reaching behind his head, he yanked a blanket from the back of the chair.
“I’m no one.” Melissa clamped her lips shut, embarrassed by the words she’d blurted.
“You don’t see your true beauty.” He cupped her jaw in both hands, drawing her to him. “The moment you came into Hex, my heart started beating again. Each time I saw you learn from the other masters and mistresses, I fought the need to take you home.”
“You. But if I’d forced the issue, I’d have scared you.” He wrapped both arms around her, cradling her within his warm embrace. “You belong to me.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“I want to hear my name on your lips, my love.”
“I love you, Tristan.”
“Music to my ears, my beloved.”
“Where do we go now?”
“We stay where we are—home.”
About the author: When she's not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don't seem to mind. When she's not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school. You can visit her by going to her blog: www.theauthormeganslayer.blogspot.com or her group blog: www.menagerieauthors.blogspot.com