The Sacrifice (10 page)

“That’s good, Emma. You’re doing very well,” Aiden murmurs in a
low, encouraging voice. “Open up for me. Open up and take it all.”

I bite my lip as I watch the slim wand piercing me in the mirror.
I watch the careful way Aiden inserts it, slowly but steadily, filling me to
the limit. At last the head bumps against the end of my channel and I give a
breathless little moan.
In me…Goddess, in me so deep!

“There,” Aiden says softly. “You can relax, darling—it’s all
inside you now. Pressing right against the mouth of your womb—exactly where I
want to be.” He gives the end of the phallus a nudge and I gasp as it presses
even deeper into me, sending a bolt of pleasure inward. Aiden snaps the bottom
part of the harness in place, preventing the dildo from falling out. Then he
stands up and steps back to admire his handiwork. “Walk about,” he says to me.
“Let me see how you move with it inside you.”

Grimacing, I do as he says. I expect it to be a strange, invasive
feeling to walk around with the artificial shaft filling my pussy and it is.
But it’s arousing too. As much as I hate to admit it, the feeling of having
something inside me, filling me up, makes me so wet I can feel my juices
soaking the leather harness. Suddenly the extra surge of horniness makes me
angry—damn it, am I ever going to be in control of my own body again? No matter
what he does to me I can’t seem to help reacting, can’t stop myself from
wanting
more
.

“Beautiful,” Aiden murmurs, watching me with half-lidded eyes.
“How does it feel, darling?”

I take another step. The phallus pulls out slightly and then, with
my next step, it sinks back inside me, pressing hard against the end of my
channel. It’s a rhythmic motion, the press and pull of this thing inside me,
and I have no doubt what it’s meant to mimic. Aiden doesn’t just want to open
my pussy, he wants me to get used to being fucked. So by the time he finally
slips his cock inside me, my body will be ready for it—
hungry
for
it—whether I’m mentally prepared or not.

“Well?” he says and I realize he’s still waiting for an answer.

I glare at him defiantly. “It feels like…like someone is fucking
me with every step I take,” I say.

Aiden smiles and shakes his head. “Not quite. I assure you, Emma,
when I decide to fuck you, you’ll know it.”

I feel my cheeks get hot and look away. Goddess, I can’t believe
I’m walking around half naked with a freaking
dildo
up inside me. And
I’m going to be stuck like this all day! “Don’t you have to go to work?” I
mutter, taking another stilted, awkward step.

In the mirror, I see Aiden’s gray eyes darken. “As a matter of
fact I do,” he snaps. “I’ll see you tonight. You may have the run of the house
and the pool but do not leave the grounds. And Emma?”

“What?” I say, not looking at him. I know I sound like a sullen
little kid but I can’t help it. I feel so out of control. So weird.

Aiden, however, is not having my attitude. Gripping my chin
firmly, he forces me to meet his eyes. “Emma,” he says, in a cold, quiet voice
that makes me shiver. “You may remove the nipple clamps for the day although I
expect to see you wearing them when I come home. But you must keep the harness
on and whatever you do,
don’t
touch yourself or make yourself come. Do
you understand?”

“You think I’m so turned on by all this I won’t be able to keep my
hands out of my panties?” I demand sarcastically. Well, if I was wearing
panties, anyway.

One corner of his cruel but sensuous mouth turns up in a
half-smile. “Don’t kid yourself, darling, I know
exactly
how my touch
affects you. But I expect my orders to be obeyed.”

“Fine.” I want to glare back at him but his gaze is so intense I
have to drop my eyes.

“Fine, what?”

“Fine…
Master
.” I use the title like a curse but Aiden
chooses not to acknowledge my tone.

“I’ll be back at five tonight. Have a good day, Emma,” he says.
And then, before I can say anything, he is gone.

Chapter Nine

The minute he leaves I take off the clamps. They leave my nipples
tender and tingling and so sensitive I can’t even bear to touch them at once.
Goddess—and he expects me to put them back on the minute I hear him walking
through the door? Ugh.

I have the run of the house but it takes me a good long time to
get up the courage to leave my room again. For one thing, I’m afraid I might
run into the creepy old servant—what was his name? Something with a B but I
can’t remember at the moment. Who is he, anyway, and how is he tied to Aiden?
Also, I'd glanced in the kitchen while I was looking for the dining room and I
don’t remember seeing him in there. Either there is another kitchen in this
huge house and I happened to look into the wrong one, or the creepy old servant
can move like lightning. I certainly hope my second kitchen theory is the right
one because the idea of that old guy zipping around the house at supernatural
speed makes me shiver. Ugh!

The other thing that keeps me in the room is how awkward it feels
to walk around with something up inside of me. And I don’t care what Aiden
says, to me it feels like I’m being fucked with every step I take. It slides in
and out of my pussy in a way that feels almost deliberate—as though Aiden’s
hand were guiding it somehow. Which is crazy, I know—he’s probably across town
somewhere in his office not even thinking of me. But still, that’s what it
feels
like.

Finally I decide that I can’t stay in the room all day. I consider
taking off the harness before leaving, but dismiss the idea at once. Even if
Aiden didn’t find out, he’s right in saying I would have more pain when he
moved up a size. I wonder briefly how many of these I’m going to have to wear.
How big is his cock, anyway? How open do I have to be to let him in?

That particular question brings a vivid mental picture to mind—me
lying on my back with my arms bound over my head and my legs spread wide, my
ankles tied to the bedposts. I can almost see Aiden, naked and muscular bending
over me, fitting the head of his cock to the entrance of my pussy only he’s so
much thicker and longer than the slim phallus currently resting deep inside me.
I can almost
feel
him sliding himself in, stretching me to the limit…

Snap out of it!
I tell myself sternly. I have to get out of this room. I can’t sit
here and fantasize about my new master all day long, no matter how
infuriatingly hot he is. I need to go explore. Maybe I can find some clue about
him—something that will tell me how to get along in the year I’m stuck in this
mirror maze of a house.

Wrapping the crimson shirt tightly around me, I venture out into
the hallway for the second time that morning. To my relief, the house seems to
be deserted. I make my way with slightly more confidence this time and find the
study easily.

Shelves full of leather-bound books that look well-worn and often
read catch my eye. I wander over, browsing their titles but many of them are in
different languages and the ones that
are
in English have dry, esoteric
titles like
Paths to the Future
and
Stars: Their True Faces and
Meanings.
I’m about to give up—clearly Aiden and I don’t have the same
taste in reading material because there’s not a mystery or an erotic romance in
sight—when I catch sight of a book I actually know:
Farrow’s Handbook of
Spells and Summonings.

I take the thick, leather-bound book from the shelf, feeling a
tingle of magic race through my fingertips as I touch it. Just because I don’t
have any magic of my own doesn’t mean I’m immune to the magic of others. This
particular copy of
Farrow’s
is thick with it—as though it once belonged
to a very powerful witch or warlock. Hmm…

Intrigued, I study the book more closely. There’s a broad crimson
ribbon, which looks a little like a hair tie, sticking out of it. I feel its
frayed, satin end with my fingers and get another tingle of magic. Fascinated, I
open the book to the page it’s marking.

Divination Love Potion,
reads the title of the spell.
For finding meaningful and
lasting love.
Wow. As I read down the list of ingredients I see that they
are exactly the herbs Aiden came into my shop asking about. Well, all except
for the rue, of course. He must have transposed that from another spell
somehow.

Why was Aiden looking for meaningful and lasting love? Maybe he
just wanted to be sure he was compatible with whoever he chose as his
sacrifice?
Or maybe he wanted some poor girl to fall in love with him so he
could control her better,
whispers a little voice in my head.
He was
going to give her this potion the moment he claimed her and she wouldn’t have
had a chance.

But he didn’t—he put all the ingredients back. Or rather, had
me
put them back. What changed his mind? I remember the jolt I felt when he
first touched me and also the way he’d admitted he wanted me from the moment he
laid eyes on me. Did he simply see me in the store and decide I was the one?
Was it some kind of love at first sight?

Don’t be stupid,
I tell myself uneasily.
Aiden’s not in love with you. He wants
to control you—to force you to submit to him. That’s all there is to it.
As
the mutinous thoughts race through my mind, a sudden, painful shock jumps from
the leather covers of the book to my fingertips. I gasp and almost drop it.
What
the hell?
It was almost as though the damn thing could read my mind and was
disagreeing with my assessment of my new master. Which is, of course, even
stupider than the idea that Aiden loves me. There’s no way a book, even one
imbued with magic from its previous owner, could hear my thoughts.

“Stop being paranoid,” I mutter to myself. Quickly, I reshelf the
leather-bound copy of
Farrow’s
and take a step back. Some things are
better left alone.

I turn from the shelves and survey the rest of the room. There’s a
fireplace at one end and a massive mahogany desk at the other. Sitting dead
center in the middle of the desk is a laptop, which I’m instantly itching to get
my hands on. But on the corner of the desk is something I find even more
intriguing—an old fashioned telephone. A princess model that appears to be made
out of real mother of pearl and gold with an actual curly phone cord attached
to it. Wow—who has a landline anymore? Apparently Aiden does. Or maybe the old
fashioned phone is just a prop? Maybe it doesn’t even work—after all, it
doesn’t even have buttons. It has a rotary dial which I’ve only seen in old
movies.
Well, only one way to find out if it’s real
.

I cross to the desk and sit down in the plush, black leather chair
behind it, which is much too large for me. The cushion is cold against the
backs of my thighs but I don’t care. I reach for the phone and bring the heavy,
old fashioned handset to my ear. It feels ludicrously large and bulky but when
I listen, I hear a dial tone. Go figure, it actually works!

Immediately I dial Lexy’s number. It seems to take forever and the
phone makes a hollow, ratcheting sound with each sweep of its ancient dial but
finally I hear it ringing. I only hope my cousin will pick up—this line is
going to show up as an unknown number on her cell. I wish I would have brought
my own cell to the Sacrifice Ceremony but I hadn’t had anywhere to put it and
hadn’t wanted to risk losing it in the rowdy crowd.

Lexy answers on the fourth ring, sounding cautious. “Hello? Who is
this?”

“Lexy, it’s me!” I can’t disguise my relief at hearing her voice.

“Emma?” she squeals. “Oh my Goddess, I was so worried about you! How
are you? Was the Sovereign magnificent? Did he ride you like a stallion?”

“I’m fine and he’s okay,” I say, deliberately ignoring the last
question. “I’m calling you from his house right now.”

“Is it amazing? Is it fabulous?”

“As a matter of fact it is,” I say. “He’s definitely not hurting
for money.” Then again, what vampire is? The fanged set are notorious for
having more money than God and the Republican party put together.

“Why did he pick you?” Lexy wants to know. “Did he say?”

“He hasn’t really told me yet. Although he
did
say that…” I
clear my throat, almost too embarrassed to go on.

Lexy clearly senses some juicy gossip. “Come on, Emma,” she urges.
“What did he say?”

“That he, uh, wanted me from the moment he first saw me in the
store,” I say in a rush. “I mean, I have no idea why. I tried to tell him I’m a
dud but he acts like he doesn’t believe it.”

“Maybe he wants you for more than your power, did you think of
that?” Lexy demands. It’s so exactly like what Aiden himself said to me that I
feel a strange sense of déjà vu.

“Maybe…” I say reluctantly.

“Maybe nothing—you’ve got the figure of a goddess and he obviously
likes women with curves,” Lexy assures me. “So where is Mr. Mysterious now?”

“At his office, I think. He said he had work to do and left.”

“So he just left you there all alone after a night of passion? How
rude!” Lexy sounds indignant. “Someone should tell him he can’t just fuck and
run like that.”