0748469001330321113 slavetoherdesires jillmyles (6 page)

David would hate the new one if he knew her. The thought filled me with a wild, unexpected despair. What did I care what he thought? He‘d known what I‘d turn into when he‘d left me with Aloysius…

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But he hadn’t
, I reminded myself. He hadn‘t known anything. He‘d been asleep for all that time.
It’s not his fault you are what you are
.

My hands slowed, and I released him as if burned, shuddering with hate for myself. I slid away on the bed, curling up on the edge of it and hugging my knees to my chest, filled with self-loathing. I was no better than Aloysius, to take what was not given to me. A monster that cared nothing for the feelings of others.

The bed shifted, and a hand touched my shoulder, gliding down my back. ―Why did you stop, sweet Olivia?‖ David‘s voice was a caress against my ear.

I did not look at him. Could not. My shame was too great. ―I will not rape you simply to satisfy my own needs.‖ My voice was hard with bitterness. ―I have experienced that particular violation myself, and know how it feels. I should not have touched you.‖

His hand continued to stroke my back, as if soothing a wounded kitten. ―You need relief, do you not?‖ At my short, jerky nod, he continued. ―If you do not like touching me, I can get Noah for you. He is kind and considerate, and…I would not stand in the way of what you desire.‖

―I don‘t want Noah,‖ I said miserably. ―I don‘t want anyone. But Aloysius‘s command is quite clear, and I can touch no man but my master. Unless I wish to crawl back to him…‖

―Then you need my help, don‘t you?‖ His hand wrapped in my long hair, pulling me backward onto the bed, until I lay next to him. ―I could simply remove the command, could I not?‖

He could. I watched him, my gaze cautious. If he simply removed the command, I‘d be free to seek out another man. A stranger, I supposed. The thought left a bad taste in my mouth.

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―Unless you‘d rather spend your needing with…me?‖ His blue eyes focused on my face.

―Is that what you want?‖

I wouldn‘t admit it. Couldn‘t. The words wouldn‘t move past my throat. Tell him that?

When it was so obvious? It came to close to begging.

As if sensing my reluctant desire, David ran a casual hand down my side, grazing my skin with the backs of his fingers. His large hand slid along my hips and then moved to the apex of my thighs, cupping my sex. ―You‘re wet with need, Olivia.‖

I bit my lip. I hated need, hated relying on someone else to pleasure me, but his touch was blinding. ―David,‖ I whispered, spreading my legs wide in supplication. I wouldn‘t ask. I had learned not to over the years. That asking simply brought new kinds of torture. That it was better to shut down and endure when I needed something.

I hated needing anything. Hated it so much that I pushed at his hands, trying to shove him away.

He ignored my pushes, saying nothing, as if he understood my silence. Instead, he watched my face. Watched it go from anger, to frustration, to helplessness, back to desire and then frustration again.

I glanced down at his hand between my legs, watched David flex his fingers against my wet sex as his gaze remained on my face. Unable to meet his eyes, I watched his hands instead, and as I watched, he moved. His thumb, once resting on my mound, slid downward and parted my sex.

I gasped.

―So you do want me,‖ he mused. The pad of his thumb touched my clitoris and gave it a rough stroke, possessive and sensual. ―Even if you hate the thought.‖

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I glared at him, hoping he would stop torturing me and make this swift and painless. My anger and frustration burned on my face even as my hands locked around his, encouraging him onward.

His hand shifted, and I felt his thick middle finger slide down my sex, searching. It circled the entrance to my sex, the slick wetness there. It tickled my clit, dancing along the sensitive flesh. I arched my hips against his hand, bucking in an effort to bring myself to come faster, so I could be done with this – done with him.

―No,‖ he whispered. ―You‘re trying too hard, sweet Olivia. This isn‘t about just satisfying the need. This is about you and me, too.‖

―It‘s just about getting through the next two days,‖ I gritted. ―Nothing more.‖

His eyes – so blue they glowed in his face – met mine. ―You‘re wrong. It‘s not like that. ‖

He moved over me, tossing one heavy arm over my torso, pinning me to the bed. One heavy arm pressed over my stomach, his shoulder resting over my belly, his body turned so I was helpless to do anything but stare at his broad, muscular back.

He could do anything he wanted to my body, covering me so possessively. As if he owned me and I existed solely for his pleasure.

I felt his other hand skim down my belly, toward my sex.

My breath quickened. I was trapped beneath him. I should have pushed him off of me, forced him to play by my rules. But instead, I admired the perfect expanse of his back, the golden curls of his fashionably-tousled Victorian hair as his head bent over my body, examining my slick sex with intense scrutiny, as if it held all the secrets to my heart.

His fingers slid down the wet folds again, one fingertip dipping into the damp heat of my core. I bit back a moan of frustration at that, my hips rising involuntarily again, but he was too 45

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heavy atop of me. Instead, he touched me, stroking my clit and brushing his fingers along my sex in ticklish motions while I lay pinned beneath him, helpless to do anything but enjoy.

―You‘re very sensitive here, Olivia,‖ he said softly. ―I remember that.‖

―Of course I am,‖ I gritted. ―I‘m a succubus.‖ His fingers were circling my wet heat again.

―No,‖ he said, voice husky. ―When we were last together. I remember…you screamed when I put my mouth there. It was mere hours ago for me. The memory still burns hot in my mind.‖

I began to pant. I couldn‘t remember – those days were so far away they seemed like someone else‘s lifetime. Mine had only been pain and Aloysius. But his words heated my body, and I began to play with my nipples, thinking of his mouth on my sex, licking me with the same languid, attentive strokes that his fingers were giving my clit.

As if he could sense what I was thinking, he bent over me and his tongue dipped into the wet well of my sex. My body went rigid and I swallowed the cry of pleasure that threatened to erupt. He gave my sex a long, slow lick that made my toes curl and I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. I would not scream my pleasure. I would not scream my pleasure.

His tongue stroked against my clit at the same time that his finger slid within me, stretching me. A second slid home, sinking into my wet depths.

I screamed his name, arching my hips to push against him, my body quivering with the force of my sudden orgasm. The Itch spiraled through me, ebbing away with the aftershocks of pleasure, even as David thrust his fingers deep within me again, his tongue flashing over my clit over and over again. My hips quivered with each stroke, until the orgasm ebbed and I was left weak and gasping.

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He moved off of me, and I thought he would roll off the bed, get away from the needy, weak creature that I was, but he surprised me again. When I turned to look over at him, David‘s mouth moved to mine.

He kissed me.

I didn‘t kiss the men I slept with. Aloysius kissed me only to punish me, and the lovers I‘d taken since I ran away from him understood my quirk. Kissing was personal, and I didn‘t like to do it. But when David‘s lips met mine – still tasting of my orgasm -- something within me shattered and broke.

His mouth on mine, his fingers buried in my sex, I came again in David‘s arms. My need was wild, and my emotions were in turmoil, and it only made his kiss deepen. Each stroke of his tongue was a claim, reminding me that I belonged to him fully.

In one fluid motion, his fingers left my wet heat and he moved his body over mine, his weight bearing down on me. I stretched my long legs wide, welcoming the cradle of his hips into my own. His cock stroked into my welcoming body, and I sighed with relief. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him down over me, my hands on his smooth, muscled back.

His mouth sought mine out, kissing and tasting me over and over again with each long, hard stroke, until my body throbbed with a need as great as his.

And when he climaxed, I was not far behind. One quick brush of his fingers to drive me over the edge, and I moaned my new release against his lips.

We lay there for a moment, spent. My breathing eventually slowed, and I relaxed in the languor that followed the abatement of the Itch. Aloysius and the constant fear receded to the back of my mind. My thoughts were entirely of David and his warm scent. David, whose weight still pressed against me in the bed, and who I still cradled between my legs.

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David, who hadn‘t abandoned me after all.

As if sensing my warming thoughts, David‘s eyes met mine and he leaned in for another slow, sensual kiss. ―Why now, Olivia?‖

I immediately felt defensive. ―Why what now?‖

He shook his head. ―No, I meant…why now? After a hundred and twenty years? Why only now did you seek me out?‖

Oh. Reality came crashing back down, reminding me that even in this moment, I couldn‘t escape my master. I‘d never be free of him, not while he lived. So I looked David straight in the eye and said, ―I need you to kill Aloysius for me.‖

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―You want me to kill Aloysius?‖

I closed my eyes, waiting for him to fling me away from him. To command me to leave.

To banish me from his presence for even daring to speak of destroying another immortal.

He was silent.

I waited, and when he still did not speak, I opened my eyes a slit, looking at his face.

There was pain there, and regret. But not anger directed at me. Not hate. Almost as if I‘d said something that he knew had to happen as well, but had never voiced it aloud.

I didn‘t understand this man.

Aloysius I knew. I knew him back and forth so well that I‘d learned to manipulate him in my own little ways. Suggesting lesser punishments that sounded worse than what he‘d think up for me, but punishments I could handle. Forcing his hand sometimes. And finally, knowing how his mind worked so I could escape. Though one might argue that Aloysius had
let
me run away –

yet another level to our endless mind games that we played.

He leaned in to me and I instinctively flinched, but David only began to kiss my shoulder softly, pressing light kisses along the bare skin. ―Tell me what I have missed in the last hundred and twenty years.‖

I found his touch oddly comforting, and I stroked the golden curls of his hair as I stared up at the ceiling, thinking. I could tell him about the endless years of depravities. The years that Aloysius had punished me for David‘s supposed betrayal and disappearance, letting me think 49

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that I‘d somehow been responsible, when it had been him all along. The years that I fought back, and eventually gave in. The years he let his friends take their turns with me. The years I spent in a cage, locked in the basement of a vampire stronghold, blood slave to a dozen vampires.

I swallowed hard. I didn‘t like thinking about those years. They belonged to the past. So I only said, ―He is not who you think he is.‖

―On the contrary,‖ David said, his voice soft and sad. ―I think he is exactly who I think he is. Aloysius is miserable here on the mortal plain, and strives to make others miserable with him.

He cares nothing of the feelings of others – only himself. He is selfish, petulant, and bores easily.‖ David leaned in and kissed my shoulder again. ―You have known him for a hundred years, but I have known him for eons. And I did not see the darkness until it was too late.‖

―He is a vampire now,‖ I said. ―His soul is blacker than ever.‖

He thought for a moment, then sighed. ―I wonder that his soul has always been black, and I was too blind to see it.‖

David seemed so sad about it that I didn‘t have the heart to tell him I had no sympathy for Aloysius. Anything I might have felt for my vampire master – other than revulsion – had long ago disappeared.

―And you want to kill him?‖ David asked me. ―That is a grievous crime amongst immortals, unless much has changed while I slept.‖

―I don‘t care if they condemn me,‖ I said. ―It‘s the only way I‘ll ever be free of him. As long as he‘s alive, he‘s going to call me back to him. Continue torturing me. Make me suffer.

And I can‘t deal with it anymore.‖ My voice hardened and I stopped stroking the curls of David‘s blonde hair. ―Either kill him, or kill me, but it ends one way or another.‖

He said nothing, but I could feel the sorrow hanging over him.

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I got up and left the room, leaving David to dress and come to terms with what I‘d asked him.

#

I ate breakfast in silence, my body a bundle of nerves. Noah Gideon was in his study, working. I could hear the quiet clicking of the keyboard as he typed. David had not emerged from the bedroom, and I continued to eat, ravenous despite the anxious churning of my stomach.

What if David said no to me? What options did I have? I was asking him to kill his best friend – the man he had been a companion to for millennia. Longer than that – they‘d fallen together. Who was I to come between them? A liability. A plaything. A sexual toy with no feelings or needs of her own. This falling out between them could be nothing more than a spat between friends. Like David had said, I had known Aloysius for a mere hundred years. David had known him for four thousand.

The pancakes I had made tasted like ashes in my mouth.

David emerged from the bedroom and I froze in place. He glanced around the room, no doubt noting the wealth of unfamiliar objects, or the small size of Noah‘s apartment in comparison to the manor houses of Victorian England. His gaze surveyed the room, and then came to rest on me, where I sat at the breakfast bar.