Vampire Food 08: He Smelled Like Peach Pie (7 page)

His grin was radiant. “That would be interesting. I will make sure I’m at the gaming tables.” He stroked her hair and then turned, heading down the hall. Mia walked into her room, and stripped off her clothing to lie atop the bed. Her room was really too large for her and the open dark space to the left of her bed often gave her the creeps. Mia ignored the warning chill that rolled up her spine as she closed her eyes. She envisioned Rory and now the wondrous vision she had just been given of Russell’s naked body.

Mia had wanted to ask Salt to show her what anal sex was like, but he had wanted to get back to Em. What must it be like to have three such devoted men? She could almost feel their hands on her naked skin, Rory kissing her mouth as Russell lay on her opposite side, fondling her breasts.

The sound of ghosts was in the air, the soft whisper of their voices coming from the opposite side of the room. Prickles ran up her spine, but Mia refused to open her eyes to them. They would ruin her growing illusion and squelch the warm glow in her pussy. The ghosts were welcome to watch if they wanted, she honestly didn’t care.

Her hand slid up to her breast, and as she began to stroke the flesh, she was stopped dead by the sound of footsteps on the slate floor. Ghosts didn’t wear shoes that clicked upon the stone.

* * * *

Salt glared at her. “So what did Mia say or, more aptly, ask?”

“You truss me up like a Christmas hog and then ask me what Mia said?”

“I don’t think they were referring to hanging you spread-eagle with chains around your wrists and ankles with that particular saying. Yes, I’m asking.”

“Mia wanted to know what it was like to be whipped. I explained in a way that made it sound rather undesirable to her at the current time. I told her that she needed to gain more experience first. She is a crafty little shit.”

Salt chuckled. “Yes, she is. Just like her idol.”

“I’m crafty?”

“Very.” He snapped the whip hard against the stone wall behind him. The sound echoed through the room, seeming to penetrate her ears like a virtual vibration that flowed throughout her entire body. She had told Mia that he preferred a cattail, but on this night as if to prove her wrong, he had a regular bullwhip. It had been shaved down to allow for the limited space, but the leather was no less menacing. It coiled like an angry snake under Salt’s gifted hand, lashing and striking around her with effervescent crackles of sound. He had yet to actually hit her with it, but the threat of pain hung in the air like a tangible force.

Salt hung the whip around his neck, walking closer to her. “I would love to be a fly on the wall the first time she experiences it. Maybe we should let her come in and watch. We can tie her up and give her a small display.”

“I’m not really into voyeurism, my sweet.”

Lifting the thinly cut end of the whip to hold it in his palm, he wiggled it over her nipple. It created a slightly ticklish sensation that was oddly arousing. “I’m well aware of that. I do believe that you would have no say in the matter because you would be shackled and mute.”

He was moving the leather, and also shifting his hand down the thin shaft. It was slowly building momentum, the strand becoming father and farther away from his grasp to allow for more fluctuation. It was no longer just striking her nipple, but lashing up and down over her entire breast. It was making Em nervous because he was barely missing her face with it. She leaned her head back slightly, trying to avoid the menacing flash of leather.

Salt chuckled. “Don’t trust me?”

“I do trust you, but it would only take a small slip to have that biting into my chin or my cheek.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” He tore the whip from his shoulders, snapping it in the air and lacing it across her stomach. Em quivered, the instant pain it caused intentional. The next strike was softer, creating an X across her abdomen before he began to walk around her body. The sound of it hitting the floor was loud, searing through her brain. It cracked the chains above her head and then lower, hitting the upper portion of her arm. Crack against the table, the wood vibrating before the whip collided with her back. Em jerked forward, and then realized that he really hadn’t hit her all that hard. The next one upon her shoulders was soft, but noticeably more biting than the one before. Em felt a soft strike upon her ass that then loudly snapped against the stone. It was so close to her feet that she felt the breeze it created upon her bare toes.

Salt had never hit the soles of her feet, but the way her legs were extended it would be extremely easy to do so. Her feet were the one very sensitive spot on her body and it would hurt like hell.

She jerked as he hit her ass again, harder than before, the skin burning mildly. The assault began in Salt’s true form, the whip moving faster, lacing across her back, her ass, her shoulders. He was gaining momentum, speed and pressure building in a waterfall cascade of blows that brought her flesh to a high burn. Em began to wonder if he was breaking the now tenderized skin, each touch causing her to jar and swing against the restraints. It was overwhelming, encompassing her body and mind and sending her into an oblivion of sensation. Her eyes were closed, but she could hear him moving around her, lusty grunts of enjoyment echoing from his throat.

The thick handle of the whip coursed over the splayed opening of her cunt and Em cried out. It was a reminder that her pussy was a glutton for this kind of punishment. It felt so good that when he then stroked it with his cool fingers, they felt like ice upon her cunt. Salt cupped the mound of her pussy with his hand, a single finger shivering over the swollen muscle of her clit. It sent her cunt into spasms of expectation, her climax far closer than she realized. Then there was nothing. Em waited to see what he might do next. Would he lower her down and fuck her, take her with his mouth, or…Em opened her eyes. Salt was sitting on the lounger watching her with an expression of torment written all over his beautiful, boyish face. His hair was shaggy from the exertion, the muscles of his arms sculptured from the primal use of them. Crossing his bare feet, he put the whip back around his shoulders and began to stroke his erect cock. “Problem?”

Em was dizzy, her pussy throbbing endlessly as it waited for more input. “I was just wondering why you had stopped. That felt amazing.” It was a ploy to get him to continue without begging him for more.

“I prove my point. You are a crafty little bitch.”

Point taken.

“I actually plan to sit here and let you heal completely. Then maybe I will get up and start again. I’m also contemplating how to change your position. I’ll be with you shortly.” Flipping his body to the side, he laid out full on the lounger. His hand slid effortlessly over his beautiful cock, stroking it, and coercing it with a tight fist. Em watched him in growing dismay. Did he really intend to bring himself to completion in front of her?

Salt arched his back against the lounger, grunting as he gritted his teeth. The light pink fluid of their lives spurted from the tip like an evil fountain of disappointment. Em was stunned.

The grin on his face was filled with sarcasm as he raised his eyebrows to her. What had happened to him during the time that he was with Mia that he felt the need to torture her as such?

Slowly pushing himself to his feet, Salt walked over to the innocent-looking wooden cabinet that was against the wall. He pulled it open. Taking a cloth from the clip, he carefully wiped off the bullwhip and hung it back up. Was he honestly done with her? If he left her shackled, she would snap the damn things and take care of her aching pussy herself. It was not what she wanted to do. It had been so long since she had enjoyed the pleasure of Salt’s body and the fact that he was now denying her was infuriating.

He examined the contents of the box, tilting his head from side to side as if in contemplation. She wanted to kick his skinny little ass. The fluid in her body was coursing fasting, rushing to all the areas that still needed to be healed. It was an odd sensation, almost like a heartbeat as it slowed and then picked up speed to move to somewhere else. Vampire blood was very methodical, always healing the most serious injuries first before it rushed off to repair lesser infractions to her skin. It distracted her momentarily and when she turned her attention to Salt again, he was gone. The door of the cabinet had been loosely closed and she turned her head, looking for Salt. Em couldn’t see him.

Her body jerked violently forward as he hit her with something. It was not a whip of any kind, something solid with a severe bite that left the skin of her ass on fire. He had Rory’s handcrafted paddle with the layers of teeth that tore and dug into her skin. He hit her again, this time with the smooth leather back. Salt never used a paddle on her. His actions became unpredictable, one strike hard, another soft.

He wasn’t focusing on any one area, but simply whatever skin seemed to strike his fancy. Using both the smooth leather and carved, sharp tines, he continued to torment her body.

Em whimpered with each new assault, unsure if she should cry out in pain or revel in the bliss he was creating. Her cunt was flickering back to the point of crisis need, flashing so close to climax that her head lulled back on her shoulders with the solid sensation. With a brutally hard blow to her ass, Salt walked to her side. He went back to the cabinet and put the paddle away. Without choosing something else, he went to window to stand with his back to her and look outside. Her lidded, bleary eyes focused in on the movement of his arm. His hand was down in his crotch, his arm flexing. The son of a bitch was masturbating again. Em snarled, jerking her right hand and then her left. The chains snapped in her frustration and she went down to the stone floor hard on her knees. Salt didn’t turn around as she got to her feet and ripped the bindings from ankles. She was almost to him when he turned around. His hand was resting on the crease of his abdomen, his arm still moving as if he was stroking his cock. Em stopped, glaring at him.

Salt smiled. “They always warned me that you could do that. I wanted to see it myself.” Bowing his head, in a show of respect, he sauntered up to her.

Em could feel the fluid in her body boiling with a mixture of pain, arousal, and anger. He had tricked her to prove a point and she had fallen right into his trap. Salt stroked her cheek, his palm cool against her chin. He then flashed downward, grabbed her ankles and flipped her onto the lounger. He leapt onto her, pinning her beneath his body as he kissed her with vehemence in his mouth. “You are a hundred times sexier than Mia. How I want you is insane.”

The words instantly curbed her anger and it winkled out like an extinguished candle. Em returned his kiss, her tongue hungry for the taste of him. Salt leaned back slightly, caught her gaze, and then kissed her again. Leaning to the side, he stroked her breast for a moment and then as if suddenly impatient to be inside of her, grabbed her thigh and filled her with his cock. Her pussy was so tight with desire that she whimpered against his mouth. Salt moved like a sex-starved teenager, his hips pumping his taut dick in and out of her wetness. Em ground her nails into his shoulders, her pussy so ready for interaction it was gripping his flesh. Salt continued, grunting in enjoyment in a far more realistic tone then he had earlier. Em heard the difference, and knew that he had just been messing with her mind.

Her fingers sank into the muscles of his back, not breaking the skin, but simply grabbing at the body that she so adored. He moved faster, building into a flash that made her howl with the overwhelming feel of friction it caused. Her head drove back into the lounger, Salt slamming into her before he stopped completely, his body bucking against hers as their climaxes collided.

He shook his wild mane of hair and then dropped onto her chest, kissing her rampantly as the pulse of her pussy calmed to a warm afterglow. Em imagined it was like having the sun buried with her as she clasped his cheeks and dragged him into a kiss.

She could feel the sun nearing and wondered how Rory and Russell were making out. Hopefully they were having good luck with the cloth and would come to bed. Em really wanted to sleep with the three of them although she was not in the least bit tired.

Em was cloaked in her cloth-covered fortress. She had no idea who had thrown the covering over her, but figured it was Russell. Rory and Russell had returned just before sunup. They had a cloth big enough to cover their bed and three smaller ones that could be used as individual cloaks. Russell could have gotten to her a tad sooner. Her skin was sizzling hot and singed, but to her surprised, it wasn’t all that painful. She was healing, against all odds, as she had not done the first time that the sun had touched her.

Her ears picked up a sound, soft at first and then growing to a deafening screech. It was the sound of birds, their wings flapping, their voices echoing through the hall. Why were birds flocking into the caves? With a curiosity that she had no will to suppress, Em pushed back the edge of the cloak and risked a look, knowing that the sun might burn her eyes. The hall was shadowed in darkness, the sunlight no longer penetrating the space. She stood, careful to keep her body cloaked, as she gathered the cloth around herself and created a hood for her head. If need be, she could easily flip the fabric over her face and hunker back down until nightfall.

She was desperate to know what had become of Rory and Salt as she gazed around the open space. What she saw brought tears to her eyes. Every vampire within her sight was burned, some dead and laying still, others thrashing or moaning in agonized pain. She had no idea where Mia was, her sweet Mia.

Something moved to her right and Em put her hand to her blade. It would not be much protection if the person was an enemy with a sword, but it was something. What she saw stunned her, her bottom lip hanging in complete awe. He was tall, so tall that she was forced to look upward even from a distance. His hair was the blond of the sun, his stunning face so chiseled with masculine features that he made Rory look ordinary. His right eye was a shimmering shade of the purest emerald green, but his left eye was amber, with flex of gold that seem to sparkle in the dimness. On either shoulder sat a raven, their feathers so black that they wavered with reflective shades of royal blue. Em blinked, wondering if he was a mirage. Had she finally met death and this man was an angel or a devil come to claim her soul?