How to Discipline Your Vampire (13 page)

Delighted,

William

I stood up and discreetly checked my seat for a puddle. I didn’t know if I peed myself, or Bizzy drenched herself while I was reading this, but the bottom line was that William produced startling reactions from my body.

As much as I wanted to read about our first scene together . . . what I really wanted to see about was his description of the first time we had sex.

I don’t think most women get a chance to see firsthand what they are like in bed. So I flipped around until I saw it.

I even scooted down the entry to get to the good stuff. Fuck foreplay, right?

And I had to refrain from gasping as she pulled my erection from my pants and shoved me inside her. I focused solely on the warm feeling. The wet sliding. The desperate crashing of our hips.

She was everything I could have dreamed about. She was tender enough to show her attraction to me, giving my ego the boost it needed for this crucial step. She was domineering enough to make me feel like I was being manipulated by her—pushed around—under her thumb.

This was what a Domme should be. She didn’t have to be the woman with the leather and the whip. All she needed to be was the one in charge, the one doling out either the pleasure or the pain or both.

Cerise consumed me mentally and physically, and dare I say it, spiritually. My entire being was inside her.

Dearest Journal, it was the pinnacle of my existence. My mind was at peace, my body had ascended to new heights, and my senses were burning to a crisp with desire for her.

I never, ever, thought losing my virginity would be like this.

Still reeling,

William

Vir—

Vir—

VIRGINITY!?

My eyes threatened to leave my head, and I think I got lockjaw.

VIRGINITY?

I whipped my iPhone from my pocket like a gun from its holster, and texted him as fast as I could:
FORGET WHATEVER SCENE YOU HAVE PLANNED TODAY. SHOW UP AT MY HOUSE AT FOUR INSTEAD OF TWO. BE PREPARED FOR ANYTHING.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Cerise

I walked into an empty house after school—good. I needed some time to process those entries. There was still a lot for me to wrap my head around.

No, not the vampire part—I had been suppressing my gut feeling about that for a while. I’d grill him about all the gory details at a more appropriate point in time, if I really even wanted to know more. My real problem was with the other
V
word.

Virgin.

He must be joking. I must have read it wrong . . . a hundred times. Maybe I needed glasses and saw “losing my Virginia accent”?

He was a virgin the first time we had sex. I popped his possibly undead cherry on top of my new piano, which, by the way, had found a nice spot in the corner of my living room.

My mind could not understand the enormity of it. He was so skilled, and so sexual. He simply
oozed
sex—okay, poor word choice—he oozed sex in a nondisgusting or -graphic way.

I had never been with a virgin. Usually submissives have had a decent amount of sex before deciding that they wanted to be dominated.

I thought back on losing my virginity, and shook my head in distaste. Worse than distaste—disdain was more like it. And I didn’t just lose it—he took it and waved it like a flag of shame for all to see. Fucking Nick.

I took a deep breath, cleared my mind, and considered the ramifications of taking William’s virginity.

I didn’t do him justice.

However, instead of feeling tender toward him, and wanting to rectify the situation by making sweet deflowering love to him, now all this information did was make me angry.

Steaming mad.

And he was going to pay.

“You,” I sneered as William walked into my bedroom at four prompt. “In the corner,” I pointed to the dungeon cross chair by the window, my black-lacquered fingernails shining ominously.

They matched the black vinyl catsuit I was wearing, and that William was apparently ogling.

“Of course, Mistress,” he said quietly. “Shall I disrobe before sitting?” he asked. I nodded sharply.

Once William was deliciously nude and seated, I grabbed the biggest, strongest, widest, and metalist shackles I could find. They should keep a vampire stationary. My mind still slurred mentally over that word. Was he
really
? I was going to find out very soon.

I snapped the shackles over his wrists and ankles, and collared him with a thick leather band. I attached the band to the back of the cross and he was secure. I checked all the bolts and bindings.

Good.

“William,” I said, voice low, “do you have any idea why I have restrained you so thoroughly today?”

He half smiled in relief. “Mistress, I believe you read my journal,” he said rapturously. “Thank you,” he added.

“Don’t thank me yet,” I warned. “Why would I prepare you in such a way? Tell me exactly why?” I said, baiting him.

“Because you are frightened,” he said, “but you shouldn’t be.”

“No, William, that is not the reason I plan on punishing you so severely today,” I said, opening a drawer and pulling out Big Bad—my epic paddle. I wanted to see some sort of fear, or arousal, or some reaction other than what he did then.

He made the saddest face I had ever seen. He looked like I had taken his heart out
Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
–style and done the Mexican hat dance on it.

Ol
é
!

“But if you didn’t read it—” he said sullenly, but I cut him off.

“Oh, I read it all right,” I said, seething. “You have been keeping something from me.”

His face turned from sorrow to confusion. “Mistress, I told you about my nature from day one. I am a vampire. Please believe me—I can prove it to you in so many ways, but I have been afraid of frightening you.” He pleaded with his eyes, since the rest of his body was immobile.

I couldn’t hold it in any longer—I had to confront him.

“You were a
virgin
when we met?” I shrieked, grabbing Big Bad and slapping the broad side against my palm.

And he did the most audacious thing I could imagine.

He laughed.

“You are accepting of my nature as a vampire, but not the fact that I was . . . sexually inexperienced when we met?” he asked incredulously, as an impish smirk threatened to spread into an entire smile.

In response, I lifted my knee and placed the sharp heel of my boot on his seated legs. He made a soft sound, much like a moan, but more angelic. Now that he was unafraid of showing his . . . supernaturalness? . . . I guess he didn’t mind dropping his human façade. “You like my choice in footwear?” I asked, taunting him.

“God, yes, Mistress,” he breathed. I knew at that moment he wanted to be out of the shackles. I smiled in satisfaction. “Lick my boots.”

I threw my foot up over the arm of the chair and brought it to his face. He licked the vinyl, closing his eyes in rapture.

“Suck the heel.”

He took the long point deep into his mouth and opened his eyes.

“I bet you also like my catsuit, William,” I said, unzipping it slowly from the top, exposing an inch of skin, just like in his fantasy, only not a kimono.

He made the angel sound again, and replied, “Yes.”

I slid my hands over the vinyl and path of flesh suggestively. “I’m going to give you a taste,” I said, and he truly moaned this time.

I didn’t tell him what he was going to get a taste of.

“Now, William, I’m surprised I didn’t read anything about drinking blood in your journals. So, is there something you’d like to taste even more than this?” I asked, touching myself intimately and running my wet finger across his lips.

His tongue flicked out hungrily, but the moment he registered my words, his rapture turned to horror.

“Mistress, please, no,” he said, terror creeping its way into his voice.

I grabbed a small penknife from my toy box. It was usually meant to cut rope in case of emergency. Usually.

“What’s the problem, William? You must drink other humans’ blood—why not mine? Doesn’t it tempt you?” I said, twirling the knife between my fingers.

He growled, and frowned, and shook his head violently. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, voice cracking with panic. “You make me feel safe . . . from myself.”

“You won’t hurt me—I’ll make the cut. I understand that most submissives would never hurt their mistress,” I explained, “but this is how I am going to punish you for your . . . less than honest behavior toward me.”

He nearly exploded. “I could break out of these shackles and kill you,” he seethed, in both anger and fear. “I’m completely under your submission, Mistress, to a fault. But what if I don’t notice how much I’ve drunk? You think these can hold me back?” he asked. He flicked his left wrist, and the giant metal shackle fell loose and hit the ground with a foreboding clunk.

My eyes widened.

“Do you dare defy your mistress?” I asked. “Put your hand back and stay still, William,” I challenged.

He placed his wrist back onto the chair and looked at me sternly. “Please, Mistress, allow me to be punished in some other way. Some way that may not threaten your life.” There was sarcasm there, but I knew he was doing it out of concern for me and not out of sassiness.

“No, William,” I said sternly. “You will take the punishment I give you. In fact, your challenging tone has solidified your punishment in my mind. You won’t harm me because I’m your Domme, and it’s in your nature to obey me. You’re a submissive first and a vampire second in my bedroom. Now, take your medicine.”

Okay, this was it. Was he a fuckhot vampire about to make me his snack, or just some whackjob with superb journaling skills? Oddly enough, I preferred the former. I took the small knife and made a tiny incision between my breasts. It was barely a nick—I almost didn’t feel it.

But he did.

The reaction from William was startling. He jolted upright in the chair, shattering the ankle restraints as well as the one remaining wrist shackle.

But he didn’t get up. He simply kept his arms and legs in place, and looked at me levelly. He was shaking, but otherwise unperturbed.

Then I noticed why.

“Breathe, William,” I commanded.

His normally stoic face shook as he drew a ragged breath. “Mistress, please,” he choked. “Yellow.”

Fuck—he was going to safe-word.
I had to talk him down.

I walked closer to him. “But I thought you desired this, William. It is your nature,” I said, not sure if I was taunting him, or asking for an actual response. “Don’t you like it?”

His eyes lolled in his head and he took another breath. “Yes, I do,” he said with a struggle. “But I’m afraid.”

I nodded at him. “Good. This is punishment. It should be both pleasurable and uncomfortable. But it will be over soon,” I said, grabbing a tissue. He sighed loudly.

He thought I was going to wipe the blood away. Instead, I blotted a dab on the tissue and brought it to his face.

“You can do this, William,” I said, waggling it under his nose.

He growled and licked his lips.
This wasn’t torture,
I decided,
he wanted it
. I stroked his erect length to encourage him.

“You’re doing great,” I said.

He grunted.

“I’m going to let you taste it now,” I said, climbing up on his lap. I sat on my knees, atop his thighs, and brought my breasts level with his face.

He shuddered in either ecstasy or horror or some feeling unknown to humans.

I brought my chest, along with the small trail of blood, to his face and made my demand. “Lick.”

William opened his mouth, looked up at me, and ran his cool tongue down the curve of my half-exposed right breast. I bit my lip, and my eyes rolled back at the sensation.

“Come on, William,” I teased. “I know you’ll be okay. Do it.”

He lapped at my chest again, using his tongue to push the shiny fabric off my nipple, exposing me. He swirled his tongue over it, wetly.

“Don’t distract me, William. Drink,” I said.

He worshipped my breast with his mouth for a minute, and then spoke into my warm flesh. “I think I need a little more distraction, Mistress. Something to take my mind off my impulses, perhaps.” I smiled, knowing exactly what he needed.

I untied the cord on his neck, allowing his head full range of motion, and moved from kneeling position to straddling. I parted my legs widely, and slid him home.

“Ahh, Mistress,” he groaned. I pushed closer to William, swallowing him within me deeply, completely.

“Are you ready?” I asked, grinding my hips against his, slowly.

He didn’t speak, but simply lowered his head to the small streak of blood. His eyes never left mine as I watched him open his mouth, extend his tongue, and do what his kind loved most.

A ripple of pleasure coursed through William’s body as the taste of my blood first hit him. “Thank you,” he groaned loudly, and began to thrust wantonly as his mouth claimed its ultimate prize.

I was amazed at his speed, which he was showing in front of me for the first time. His head bobbed back and forth, consuming every last molecule of blood that had run from my breasts to my navel. He was thorough in every way. Once the little trail was clear, he buried his head in my cleavage and sucked on the small wound.

The thrusting sped up, and I knotted my hands in his hair as I bucked with him wildly. We were both in a frenzy, beyond cognition. He was caressing me from the inside out. I felt the blood being siphoned between the two of us, feeding our mutual lust.

But the sight that made me orgasm explosively was when he sat up, sated, and licked his red lips greedily.

“God, William,” I moaned. For a moment, they were one and the same. God and William. Dark deity of blood and sex.

He smiled, eyes strangely tranquil, and gripped me hard as he came along with me.

I clung to his sleek body and rode out the waves of pleasure. My heartbeat slowly returned to normal, but the smile was permanently fixed on my face. That was far too good.

Moments later, I was still sprawled in his lap, collapsed against his hard chest. I told him he could get up from the dungeon chair, and that his punishment was over. He sat up and carried me to my bed.

“May I grab something in the kitchen, Mistress? I need to make sure you’re not woozy when you get up. You lost a little blood,” he said coyly.

I nodded, still unable to form words.

He returned, still naked, with a plate of fruit along with a glass of milk.

Seriously, did I have the best life ever or what?

I was panting, but pretty hungry. Before I could make a motion to grab a morsel of food, William picked a grape and fed it to me. I savored the momentary touch of his fingers against my lips.

He fed me slowly, lovingly, and occasionally ran his hands through my hair as I chewed. We never broke eye contact.

“This should hold you until dinner,” he said softly. “I’ll go make it for you now.” He moved to get up, but I grabbed his bicep and pulled him closer.

“Stay,” I said.

He smiled. “You fed me something more delicious than I could imagine, Mistress,” he said, “so it’s only fair I prepare something equally enticing for you.”