Authors: Angela Knight
“So what’s so different about me?” Remembering something Dominic said, her eyes narrowed. “Or is it just that you’ve been six months without pussy, and you decided you want to keep one on hand?”
He looked at her and his eyes heated. Verica realized the sheet she held around her had drooped, revealing the tops of her nipples. She drew it tight again. “That’s part of it,” he admitted. “But not all. There’s a fire and sensuality in you that would make you a perfect . . .” He broke off.
“Bloodslave. Is that what you were going to say?” She’d heard of them. “If you think I’ll willingly become an oversexed, genetically engineered half-vampire sex toy, think again.”
Julian gave her a mocking smile. “Why, Verica—your father did have interesting tastes in smut, didn’t he?”
She shrugged. “There’s also a couple million dirty jokes. ‘How many bloodslaves does it take to change a lighting unit? None. They like it better in the dark.’”
“The dark has a great deal to recommend it.”
“You would think so, wouldn’t you?”
“Did the jokes mention that your strength would be five times what it is now, that your reflexes would be faster, your hearing more acute? Useful, for a mercenary.”
“We use guns now, Julian. Or hadn’t you heard?”
He laughed. “That wicked tongue is one of the reasons I find you so attractive.”
“You have no idea what I can do with my tongue. You had me tied up, remember?” She snapped her teeth closed, appalled at herself.
Those dark eyes glittered. “Are you flirting with me, Verica?” He moved around the bed until he loomed over her. “Would you like to demonstrate your skills?”
“Sure.” She bared her teeth at him. “If you don’t mind being thrown into a bulkhead.”
“Those were not the skills I was referring to.” He sank gracefully down beside her. Senses clamoring at the proximity of all that male brawn, she had to suppress the urge to edge away. “Since you bring it up, let’s talk about sex.”
“Let’s not.”
He ignored that, instead reaching out to trace a fingertip across the fist she held clenched in her lap. “After the procedure, your nipples would be far more sensitive than they are now. The number of pleasure receptors in your clit, cunt, and anus would increase geometrically, making sex even more pleasurable.” He looked into her eyes, immersing her in a dark, sensual stare. “Considering how responsive you are now, that idea takes my breath away.”
She lifted a brow at him, fighting the raw seduction of that starkly handsome face. “Given your collective appetites, we wouldn’t have the chance to do anything, since I’d be in regen all the damn time.”
He shook his head. “Verica, that’s the whole point of the procedure. Infecting you with a modified form of the vampire virus means you’d gain our ability to regenerate cells. You wouldn’t need regen for anything but catastrophic injuries. And you’d be practically immortal.”
Verica blinked at that, caught by the idea of having most of a vampire’s powers without the drawbacks of a liquid diet. But . . . she remembered the other things she’d heard. Bloodslaves were designed for sex—that’s why the procedure’s creators had modified the virus to force an increase in the growth of pleasure receptors. Those who underwent it were intended to give their vampire lovers the most intense response possible. The procedure even altered brain chemistry; rumor said they were perpetually horny. “I don’t want immortality enough to become a slave of any kind.”
He shook his head. “You won’t actually become a slave.” His lips twitched. “Or no more of a slave than you want to be. And not ‘perpetually horny’ either. At least . . .” The faint smile widened into a wicked grin. “Not after the first month or so. Once your body adjusts, you’ll learn to control it.”
Looking at him, remembering what they’d done to her, she had to admit there was a certain fascination in the idea.
Then Julian met her eyes full on, and suddenly all the breath left her lungs at the sheer, sensual power of his stare. Her nipples hardened as she remembered what his cock had felt like, buried to the balls in her ass, André’s tongue flicking across her clit. André and Dominic, shafting her in searing unison as Julian fed from her throat. Taken, ravished, overwhelmed.
God, she wanted to feel that way again. And she could. Again and again.
Madness.
She lifted her head and forced herself to meet his eyes defiantly. “I’d be placing myself at your mercy. What’s to stop you from abusing me?”
His eyes were so dark and deep she felt dizzy looking into them. “My vow. I will not betray your trust, and I won’t allow my men to betray it either.”
She fought the hypnotic pull of his will. “And I’m supposed to just trust you?”
“Yes. Because you can.”
And she wanted to. That irritated her, made her wonder if she was being suckered. She stared at him, resenting the fact that she wanted him enough to take that kind of risk, while he took no risk at all.
Unless . . .
Julian lifted a dark brow. “You want me to prove myself to you?”
Verica squared her shoulders. “Yeah. You want me to put myself at your mercy? Put yourself at mine.”
Reading the image in her mind, he grinned. “You want to tie me up?”
She thought about it, then remembered the way he’d snapped her cat’s cradle of cords. “No, you could get free too easy. Forcecuffs.” She met his eyes, her own narrowing in challenge. “I want you in forcecuffs.”
Julian straightened. “You are serious, aren’t you?” Looking at her, he tilted his head, his gaze calculating. Then he nodded shortly. “You want proof; you’ll get your proof.” He straightened to his full imposing height. “Command me then. I’ll obey you.”
Hot excitement flooded Verica at the thought of having such a dominant man at her mercy. She fought to control the thrill, decide what to do next. “Strip for me,” she ordered, and licked her dry lips. “And tell one of your crew to bring those cuffs. I want them to see you at somebody else’s feet for once.”
His eyes flashed, and for a moment, she wondered if he’d obey after all. But then his big hands went to the fly of his breeches and opened it with a stroke of long fingers. Eyes fixed on hers, hot and heavy-lidded, he pushed his pants down over his narrow hips. His erection sprang free, long, thick, and hard. She shuddered, remembering the feel of it.
Julian smiled slowly and sat down on the edge of the bed. He kicked off his boots, then wormed the tight breeches the rest of the way off his muscled legs. Deliberately he stretched out on the mattress, extending his powerful arms over his head and arching his spine, rolling his hips upward. The head of his cock brushed his ridged abdomen. He reached a big hand between his thighs and cupped his full balls, then stroked his long, eager shaft, displaying himself for her.
The door slid open and Dominic ducked in carrying a handful of wide gold rings several inches across. “Forcecuffs, boss?” he asked, grinning. “Don’t you think that’s overkill when you could wrap her up in a ball of yarn . . .”
Julian rolled off the bed, naked. “The ‘cuffs are not for her, Dominic.”
The blond vampire froze in his tracks. His green eyes widened. “You’re not actually going to let her forcecuff you?”
“Trust has to go both ways.”
Are you insane?
Dominic stepped in close to Julian, projecting his thoughts, his fingers white around the ‘cuffs with the force of his grip.
She’s a killer, Julian! What’s to stop her from slitting your throat?
She won’t, and you know it,
Julian told him, mind to mind.
She’s
a mercenary, not a murderer. I want her. And I’m willing to prove how much
.
Dominic’s green eyes snapped.
Look
,
I want a source of available
pussy and blood as much as the next horny vampire, but I’m not willing to risk you to get it.
You touched her mind, Dominic. You know she’s more than just pussy.
The blond turned and looked at Verica who still sat on the bed. Coolly, she met his gaze and allowed the sheet to fall, revealing the lovely globes of her breasts with their pale pink nipples. Blonde hair tumbled around her shoulders. Her full lips were parted under blue eyes that snapped with excitement.
Dominic tossed the cuffs on the bed and said in a fierce, low tone, “If you hurt milord, we’ll fucking drain you. And it won’t be quick.” With a snarl, he stalked out of the room.
Verica looked at Julian, lifting a brow. “Milord?”
“We have a very long history together.” He shrugged. “And if he really thought you couldn’t be trusted, he wouldn’t have left. Not without a fight, anyway.” And since André would have joined in, Julian knew he’d have had his hands full. His crew was loyal, but at times their idea of loyalty could stretch to outright rebellion if they thought he was being stupidly suicidal.
Looking at Verica, Julian grinned. With any luck, he’d soon have three of them to worry about. “Where do you want me?” he asked in a velvet purr.
Feeling her nipples harden, Verica shifted on the bed. Damn, how did he
do
that—make her cream just with the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes?
It was some comfort to see his erection lengthening again; it had subsided during the conversation with Dominic. At least she wasn’t the only one caught in this ridiculous lust.
“Verica?” Amusement lit his dark eyes.
She blinked, having forgotten the question. Oh, he wanted to know where she wanted to put him. “The bed . . . No, the chair.”
Julian nodded obediently and walked over to the padded black swoop of synthleather. Verica snatched up the forcecuffs and went to join him as he dropped onto it.
His eyes roamed over her as she crossed the room, and she was abruptly aware of her nudity. Rocking back on her heels, she gave him the same sort of slow appraisal.
And swallowed. Even sitting down, he looked big, his chest broader than the back of the chair, pelted in silken black hair that trailed down over his muscled belly to that massive erection.
Lifting a brow at her, he held up one powerful wrist, biceps bunching. Verica licked her lips and moved to kneel beside the chair, slipping one of the forcecuffs over his hand. When she held the ring around his wrist, the metal band instantly drew itself tight to his skin. His arm went limp as the cuff cut off his control of his muscles. Moving carefully so she wouldn’t wrench it painfully, Verica drew his wrist back until it pressed against the back of the chair. She released him and the cuff locked his muscles in place, holding his arm in the position she’d arranged it in. Forcecuffs couldn’t be broken because the captive’s own strength held him.
She repeated the process with the other arm, then both ankles, positioning them beside the chair so his thighs were spread, giving her easy access to that magnificent cock.
But she wasn’t through yet; there was a fifth ring. Julian had evidently instructed Dominic to bring a forcecollar as well. She looked up from the circle of metal, surprised he was willing to take it that far. Julian lifted a dark brow at her and she wondered if she was being dared.
“I thought maybe you’d want to make sure I don’t . . . bite,” he said.
Verica narrowed her eyes at him. “Now that you mention it . . .”
She half expected him to object when he realized she’d really do it, but he didn’t protest as she opened the collar and slid it around the strong column of his throat. Leaning over his lap, she took his dark head in both hands and positioned it to her satisfaction. When she let him go, his head remained rigidly in place. The back of the chair wasn’t quite tall enough; his head and shoulders extended above it.
Leaning back, she saw that his eyes were focused on her hard pink nipples, heat and hunger in his eyes. Bound or not, he didn’t exactly look submissive.
“Julian,” Verica said, trying out her own velvety purr, “where do you keep your toys?”
He grinned, not in the least intimidated. “There’s a panel in the wall beside the bed. I’d get ’em for you, but I seem to be rather . . . busy.”
“Oh, I think I can find it.” She straightened and turned toward the bed. For the first time in her life, she deliberately put a sway in her ass as she sauntered across the room.
Following his directions, she found the control for the panel and watched it slide open, revealing a deep recess in the bulkhead. Her eyes widened.
Inside were a whole collection of whips, nipple clamps, butt plugs, and dildos, all neatly arranged, along with several old-fashioned cuffs and chains. “You’re a bad boy, Julian,” Verica breathed, staring at them in shocked titillation.
He laughed, a deep rumble. “Oh, yeah. The question is, how bad a girl are you?”
She grabbed a flogger and a couple of clamps, and turned around. “Bad enough.”
Most men would probably have felt a little apprehension, watching Verica stride toward them carrying that leather flogger. Julian merely smiled. She wondered whether he knew she wouldn’t hurt him, or whether he hoped she would.
“What do you think?” he asked, reading her mind.
She looked into his strong, handsome face and shrugged. “You’re not a masochist.”
“And you’re not a sadist.” His eyes dropped to the flogger with its soft suede lashes. “But you are inventive.”
Verica eyed his face as she moved to stand over him. “You’re going to be practically impossible to surprise, aren’t you?”
“Well, that’s the problem of playing with a telepath.” He rolled his broad, muscled shoulders, but his immobilized arms remained pinned behind him. “On the other hand, there doesn’t seem to be much I can do about it.” His lids lowered. “Though there’s always revenge.”
“In that case, I’d better make the best of my opportunities.” Dropping the clamps on the floor, she flicked the flogger across his rock hard cock. It scarcely qualified as a blow, but she looked into his face anxiously to make sure it hadn’t actually hurt.
“Usually,” he rumbled, “I use that on my captives’ tits.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She flicked her wrist again.
* * *
J
ulian caught his breath and tried to jerk his head back, but the collar held him still. The flogger’s light lashes didn’t hurt, as gently as she struck him. But the soft leather wrapped teasingly around his cock, caressing the long shaft as the lashes hit and pulled away. He’d used it just that way on assorted pretty nipples, but he’d never realized how effective it could be on a man.