A Vampire's Claim (25 page)

Modest before them, she was. An aristocrat. She’d let him eat her pussy, but in a way they could only see by suggestion, and by her reaction.

Can you make me come hard and long, bushman?

I suggest you hang on to the arms of that chair, my lady. And hope they’re sturdy.

He didn’t know someone could laugh in their mind, particularly not in a soft, seductive way that gave his cock another hard jolt. It had a different sound, softer even than that earlier purr for Ruskin and Ian. What was the act and what was real? He wanted to believe this was the reality, the rest the illusion she’d described. He couldn’t do this believing otherwise, God knew.

He liked it like this, where all his focus was here, on her cunt, the rest disappearing in a dark void, his hearing muted by the dress and the clasp of her thighs around his head, increasing as he tasted her, teased the outer labia, tracing the line of it all the way around, overlooking the clit as he warmed her up elsewhere, flicking between the outer and inner sensitive lips. Breathing on her, delving into her drenching honey as her hips rose to his face. From the tautness of her body, he knew she had in fact gripped the arms harder.

Dimly, he could hear Mary’s pleading noises, which fair begged for a climax, the clink of silverware as the staff came and retrieved the final course, probably to replace it with tea. He wondered if the server was having to step over his bent legs to retrieve one set of dishes and replace it with another. Bloody oath, what a world. But he didn’t give a damn at the moment. All that mattered was this, the fact she’d now let go of one arm to grip his shoulder, finding him beneath the jacket to grip the thinner fabric of the pressed shirt. She yanked on him so hard he felt the seams tear, the spasm of her fingers a welcome caress.

Now at last he moved to her clit, working beneath the hood, biting gently, then moving his tongue over it in a leisurely coil, like a snake winding about on a rock in the sun, spreading a full measure of warmth over the expanse of sensitive nerve endings. She gasped, let out a harsh moan. The table protested as someone shifted. Perhaps Ian or Charles had turned his chair with uncharacteristic lack of grace, their attention now divided between the two stimuli. Even so, the hair lifting on the back of his neck told him more than physical lust was rising in the room. It wasn’t much of a leap to realize it might be inadvisable, having a human service her needs when there were two alpha male vampires in the room. Well, she’d said she’d handle the vampires, and until they hauled him out back and tore him limb from limb, he’d trust in that.

“Chiyoko, Aapti, stop now.” Danny spoke abruptly. “Mary, return to your duties. As you are, without any of your clothing. You will stay that way until sunrise. Let it be known that any man on the place who wishes to have you tonight may do so. As often and however he wishes, though I will hold them accountable if you are unable to perform your duties tomorrow evening.”

Christ. Damn it, Danny—

She is fine, I promise. Obey me.

Her commanding tone was punctuated by subtle breathlessness, but he still had to marvel at her control, because her cunt was rippling against his mouth.

“Now, you two. Come enjoy my bushman. He deserves a reward . . .” She stopped, her hand molding over his forehead, only the thin taffeta between them. It broke the contact with his mouth, but her leg pressing into his back told him she wanted him to stay where he was. “For the treasure of his tongue,” she finished, though the hard spasm that went through her thighs told him how close he’d come to sending her over. He struggled to obey the clamp of that thigh, the alpha in him pretty worked up as well.

Remember that blindfolded servant, my love. Focus on serving me instead of your own desires. It’s important.

He did, but it was difficult to stay still when feminine but quite bold hands touched his back, his buttocks. Long, stroking touches, the hands of women who knew exactly what they were about. He’d thought of whores earlier, but this was far more than that. They were like the temple priestesses of ancient times, for whom coupling was an offering to their Goddess, women who possessed the skill and intensity that came with loving the act, considering it a sacred power of its own almost without equal.

Oxford scholar . . . your mind is as stimulating . . . as your mouth. Stop thinking, though . . . Just feel.

She’d eased the pressure of the leg, and so he laid brief, teasing kisses against her wet lips, trailing his tongue along the inside of her thigh as the servants touched him.

Then he stopped, tensing. Tugging off his jacket was fine, but now they were unbuckling the knife holster, the pistol.

The weapons have no use at this moment, Dev. And they won’t leave my sight.

One of them had unlatched his belt, and her clever hands had unfastened his slacks. He did not know either woman enough to know whose hands were doing what, but they were equally confident. One set pulling the shirt and collar off his shoulders as another pair ran over his chest, then down, down, gripping him as they took his pants down, past his knees, sliding them off with his boots, leaving him uncomfortably bare-arsed, totally naked. But before he could worry too much about that, Jesus, they widened his stance, tugging on one knee until he obliged.

I’m feeling forgotten, Dev.
She was teasing him now, bloody woman.
Concentrate on me, not on them.

Forgotten? He plunged his tongue deep inside, suckling her lips ruthlessly so she arched and gasped. His hands were free, so he used three of his fingers, sinking them in, knowing his calluses would rub against the tender flesh, be a delicious friction.

He started as a soft female body pressed against the inside of his calves, one of the servants having obviously lain down between them and used the leverage of her hands on his spread thighs to put her head on the floor between his knees. At the brush of chain against his skin, he realized it was Chiyoko with her nipple clamps. Aapti’s hand, then, was the one that gripped his cock and levered it down into the other woman’s waiting mouth. They had to be twisting around him and Danny like sinuous cats. A moment later all speculation or coherent thought of any kind abandoned him, for both mouths were teasing his cock, making him realize Aapti had slithered through the rungs of Danny’s chair to come at him from the front. Now Chiyoko gave the whole of his cock to Aapti as she began to suck his testicles into her mouth, stimulating the sensitive stretch of skin between balls and anus with clever skill. He let out a guttural, purely bestial sound against Danny’s flesh, feeling his seed boil up in him.

Not before you make me come, Dev. Or I
will
make you take Mary’s tender backside tonight. I’m strong enough to shove
her down onto a table and slam you down right on top of her, feed that enormous cock into her while Charles and Ian hold
your arms.

He heard a threat in her voice that made him believe it. She’d do it, not because this was one of her games, but because, though she’d commanded these women to arouse him, his first duty was to her. She would tolerate nothing else.

Trying to hold off the overwhelming pressure building in his balls, his lower abdomen, the muscles tightening all along his body, preparing for explosion, he mindlessly tickled, teased, flailed and licked her clit until she was bumping up against his face rhythmically. The grip of her hand on his shoulder became painful, almost bone crushing in its strength.

At this point he was like a wolf with the scent of blood in his nose. Aapti could deep-throat a man all the way to her lungs—that lucky piker Ruskin didn’t deserve her—and was working his cock in and out of her mouth and throat, a slick, entirely pussylike passage. She’d likely have tears at the corners of her lips for a few days, for she had a blissfully small mouth. He noticed such things, having a cock the size he did. Danny had a fairly small, bow-shaped mouth, the kind he most liked to shove his cock into.

That was what he’d like to do to his fair, beautiful sheila, have her service him like this, feel her take all of him . . .

She gasped, her body spasming again, and he wondered if she’d seen that image. He hoped so. “Come,” he whispered against her flesh, making it quiver further. He wasn’t loud enough for them to hear, but he wanted her to feel the words, as well as hear them in her head. “Come, my lady. Scream for me.”

At that moment, the one suckling his testicles teased his anus with a finger, and he detonated. As Danny began to come, crying out her pleasure, he shot his load down the other girl’s throat. His wild animal growl vibrated against his lady’s flesh, driving her higher, if the punishing grip of her thighs around his head was any indication, the hard grinding of her wet pussy in his face that smothered him for a few dizzying moments.

As he eventually slowed, making unexpected grunts similar to the soft gasps of Danny’s aftershocks, his body jerking and convulsing against the women’s mouths and fingers, he collected enough brain cells together to wonder what the other two vampires were doing. If it had been him, he would have been yanking his servant away and fucking her senseless on the table.

He’d never been so saturated with sexual energy, surrounded by it, driven by it. If this was the way they usually conducted their dinner parties, he didn’t wonder that the participants were mostly full servants, with the enhanced abilities Danny had mentioned.

Sex like this could kill a mere mortal in short order.

While he was winded, his mother had raised a gentleman, though it had been a long time since he’d thought of himself that way, and certainly not in this context. He finished with tenderness, giving her a brief cleanup with his tongue, gentle kisses, rubbing his clean-shaven jaw against the softness of her inner thigh, pressing kisses there, too. Her hand was still relaxed, almost limp, as she stroked the curve of his skull through the light fabric, the line of his shoulder. He wondered about the picture she must make, a languidly sated woman, her legs spread and yet all but her calves covered, the shape of his body provocatively outlined beneath the skirt.

The women withdrew, their hands caressing as they moved back. Curiously, they clothed him again, sliding his shorts and pants back on, tucking him back in and zipping him up with care, which he appreciated. His blindness made the metallic music of their jewelry, and some breathy giggles, sound like small bells, all the more distracting. Then they were threading the belt, tucking the shirt, their hands teasing and provocative. They left off the collar and tie, which he didn’t mind.

Stay where you are, Dev. On your knees, facing my chair.

With lithe grace, using the leverage of her heeled slipper against his back, she rose. Her skirt drifted off his head and shoulders, leaving him blinking in the candlelit room. His lust still high, he imagined how the fluids he’d been unable to reach with his tongue would now be trickling down her leg, marking her. Turning his head, he stayed where he was, but discovered Ian straightening, arranging his clothes. He’d obviously kept Mary in the room, for she was bent over the table to his left, her hands fisted in the tablecloth, tears on her face from how hard he’d worked her, her body shuddering as if in the aftermath of climax. Either she’d been ordered to be quiet about it by Ian, or Dev had just been too absorbed in himself to hear her.

Ian took his place again, tossing a leg over the chair arm, hooking his arm on the back, the picture of the careless, dissolute young nobleman in his own hall. “Now you can go, Mary,” he said, tossing Danny a smirk. The maid didn’t need to be told twice, pushing herself up from the table and gathering her clothes to leave the dining room.

“A moment, Mary.” Danny’s voice brought the woman to a halt at the door, though Mary kept her head down. “Please tell the staff we do not wish to be disturbed until I send Dev for them.”

She nodded, bobbed another quick curtsy, with remarkable grace considering she wasn’t wearing a stitch, and disappeared, closing the double doors behind her. Dev noted that Aapti and Chiyoko had taken a place against the wall behind the empty side of the table, remaining naked as well. Aapti had her arm around Chiyoko’s waist and was fondling the woman’s small breasts as the Asian girl leaned in to her, her hand reaching back to find Aapti’s hip, caressing. Their movements were languid, unhurried, the intent obviously to provide ongoing visual entertainment for the vampires, not to bring each other to climax again, though it was clear they would keep each other well stimulated. Dev knew he would have had a hard time tearing his eyes away as well, except that Danny’s instruction to the maid had drawn the attention of the two vampires.

“More games, Lady D?” Lord Charles raised a brow.

Danny gave him a smile that Dev suspected would have tempted any man down the road to perdition. “I find this has just whetted my appetite. But if you don’t mind, first, more wine. No, I’ll get it myself. I can tell Ian likes the way I walk.” She sauntered in a relaxed, sated fashion over to the side bar. Since it was behind Ian’s chair, she leaned forward until she was eye to eye with him, and the deep plunge between her breasts couldn’t help but command his eye. “You imagined it was me when you were fucking her, didn’t you?”

Lord Charles’s chuckle caused a scowl to cross Ian’s face. When Danny reached out a hand, trailed a fingertip along Ian’s jaw, Dev tensed as Ian seized her wrist, holding her there, the tension between their arms suggesting he’d tried to unbalance her, haul her forward.

She neither moved nor flinched, simply stretched out her fingers and continued to stroke up to his cheekbone. Then across his lips in a deliberate way until they parted, touched her with his tongue, showing the needle edge of one fang. “And who were you thinking about, my lady,” he said huskily, “when that mongrel was eating your cunt?”

“Why, him, of course. Look at him, Ian. Why would I want to imagine Dev as anything but the perfect human specimen he is?”

Arching a brow, she glanced over at Dev.

Ian gave Dev a narrow look that suggested he’d be happy to see him crucified with railroad spikes. Dev mentally thanked whoever was responsible for getting the women to put his pants back on, for now that his focus was changed, he had no wish to be bare-arsed before the other vampires. In the corner of his eye, he discerned that Ruskin was also watching him, and there was no friendliness there, either.