Vampire Instinct (58 page)

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Authors: Joey W Hill

Tags: #Vampires, #Horror, #Paranormal, #General, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Erotic Fiction, #Erotica, #Fiction, #Occult & Supernatural

BOOK: Vampire Instinct
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“Drink it all down,
ma cherie
,” Christophe murmured. “One fast gulp, hard, like a man. It may seem like a lot, but it takes more to affect a third-mark. It goes away quicker as well, but this should be enough to get you started. We’ll take you the rest of the way.”
She nodded, not questioning their solicitude. She’d learned to recognize the good servants, the ones who understood they were all in it together and the best way to get along was to help one another out.
“They’ll want you stripped and bound here,” the Frenchman continued, producing a silk black cord. “Gustav will do the stripping honors, so you allow him that, eh?”
“I can undress myself,” she said, and winced at the quaver.
“Use our strength,
ma cherie
. You’ll need it.” Christophe’s eyes twinkled. “Though it is fortunate that Gustav is the one who will take you from behind, because despite his mountainous size, it is my cock that is the more formidable of the two.”
“So he says,” Gustav rumbled. “But only because he plays with it so much it’s lengthened like an overstretched spaghetti noodle.”
She blinked, tears from the whiskey’s burn blinding her, but she couldn’t help but feel the spurt of humor. Whether from the alcohol rush or not, she didn’t know, but it was enough to give her a tiny smile. “Thank you.”
“Pfft.”
Christophe waved a hand. “Think we haven’t been where you are? The first dinner I attended, it was like being thrown naked into a vat of horny, violent rugby players. I thought it was what Hell must be like, all those twisting, writhing bodies. But then something happened. Even now, there are times I remember it . . . fondly.”
As he spoke, Gustav unhooked the bra quite deftly. She stiffened as his large hands settled on her hips to slide off her panties, but she used Christophe’s shoulders for balance as she stepped out of them. He left her garters, stockings and heels. “This is a very nice look. They will like this.”
She was shaking again, standing there all naked in front of the two of them as if it meant nothing. Christophe guided her wrists behind her and Gustav knotted the rope around them, drawing her shoulders back so her breasts were further lifted for Christophe’s avidly appreciative gaze. “Ah, a nice touch.”
Taking a swig of the whiskey straight from the bottle, he cupped her head, moving in to seize her mouth. She let out a surprised noise but then she was focusing on swallowing as he gave her more of the searing liquid. Gustav braced her behind so she felt the heat and pressure of both of them, a prelude of things to come. Christophe bent and fastened his whiskey-scented mouth on one nipple, suckling it quickly, and then the other. She bucked and gasped, overwhelmed at the sensual attack.
“There you are. All pointed and hard they are now, your pussy glistening again. You’re ready and they’ll love you. So will we, pretty sweet morsel. Come now, and don’t worry.”
She wasn’t quite sure how or what to think. It was the most remarkable thing she’d ever experienced, the way they now both stripped as well, setting their clothes aside with a matter-of-fact air. It helped, that feeling of camaraderie, though they weren’t the ones about to become a shish kebab. Gustav was in fact wearing what Mal had called a harness, and his stiff cock was enormous from the restraint, the straps tightly binding his testicles and the base of the shaft.
Taking the bottle from Christophe’s hands, she upended it just as he’d done. As she choked, Gustav helpfully pounded her on the back and Christophe rescued the bottle before she dropped it. Through bleary eyes, she noted Christophe was as well-endowed as he’d said, but she held on to the fortitude of the alcohol, the arousal of her own body. She would use that and let her mind drift without anchor, not hold on to anything but the fact it would eventually be over. She would be pleasured beyond bearing, right? But treated as chattel, as an amusement, not a treasure. She closed her eyes, but before she could balk or bolt, she was nudged into motion.
They led her into the conservancy, a glassed-in room that faced the waterway. It wouldn’t be too difficult for a passing boat to discern what they were doing, even with the distance of the backyard and the dock for Marshall’s yacht. She was fully on display. The vampires were scattered about on the casual furniture in the outdoor living area. She met Mal’s gaze first, saw him look with hot approval at her appearance, though his attention lingered on her breasts as if he knew another male’s mouth had been there, and he possibly didn’t approve. But her arms had been tied, and she wasn’t sure anymore what she was supposed to allow or not allow.
His jaw relaxed a fraction.
You don’t have to make those choices, Elisa. That’s my job. You’ve done nothing wrong. They know what they are doing. Just follow their lead.
Christophe stretched out on the sturdy and long tile table set up in the center of the room, and Elisa didn’t know whether to praise or curse the efficiency of Marshall’s staff in providing it. The Frenchman’s cock had only gained in size since they left the dining room. It was rising high and hard, ready for her. Gustav lifted her up like a tiny doll and guided her to spread her legs, straddling his fellow servant’s body. Elisa caught a panicked whimper in her throat. It was diabolical to tie someone’s arms like this. She was afraid, and these were strangers.
No, she was fine. This wasn’t Victor. She didn’t want Mal reacting to her spurt of panic, trying to call this off. Lord Marshall wouldn’t be tolerant forever.
I’m fine. I’m fine
. And she was. Christophe and Gustav were considerate and experienced, conscious of what brought a woman pleasure. That was the whole point of this. Her pleasure as entertainment. It would not be painful . . . not physically.
She didn’t have to worry about pregnancy. Lady Constance had told her a long time ago that, while third-marks could be fertile with a human or vampire, something in the makeup of third-marks kept them from impregnating each other, another reason they were preferred for dinner games with their masters and mistresses. She wondered if that was another reason Mal had wanted her third-marked before this trip.
She couldn’t keep her mind distracted any longer. Gustav had one arm around her waist, the other hand curled around her throat. As Christophe’s cock pushed into her cunt, the broad head sliding intimately against slick petals, she tried to relax, tried not to think. Maybe it had been merely a few weeks, but she’d gotten used to accepting only one male there. No matter how Mal had overwhelmed her, she’d been able to choose. Choice was a fleeting thing. She closed her eyes, their desires be damned, and tried not to let the tears show, but they liked that, liked seeing them seep down her cheeks. She heard it in Cynthia’s murmur.
“The first-timers are delectable. Their sweet tears, even as they get hotter and hotter. It’s a delicious struggle for them. The way they experience pleasure and emotion together as they learn what surrender to their Master truly means.”
She let out a groan as Christophe worked his hips and made his way in until she was seated to the hilt. He took over for Gustav, curving an arm around her back, bringing her down so he could suckle a nipple anew. She started at the unusual sensation of oil drizzling across her buttocks, and then Gustav’s fingers were massaging that tight opening between her cheeks. There was no way she could have anything else inside of her. With Christophe, she was full to bursting already.
When Mal rose and approached the table, her eyes opened, heart pounding, a plea there. Gustav curled one oiled hand in her hair, arching her throat to draw her face upward. As Mal opened his slacks, she fastened her gaze on his cock. He was astonishingly hard, demonstrating that some part of him was aroused by this, as she’d anticipated. She couldn’t cast any stones, could she, given that she was fast becoming a warm, gushing fountain again?
“Take me deep, Elisa,” he ordered with quiet firmness.
That made it click for her again. She was his servant, serving his pleasure and will. What they did to her served that, and so her pleasure would be his pleasure. Damn it all to hell.
She opened her mouth. At the first press of the broad head, the way he stretched her mouth to take him all the way in, her mind started to settle; something soothed in her belly, even as the rest of her body stayed agitated, restless. He pushed in deep, then pulled out slow, his intent focus on every change in her face, the way her lips slid over his length, moistening him with her mouth. Christophe remained still inside her for now, his mouth a slow, provocative pull on her nipple. As Mal’s fingers dug deep into her scalp, his other hand caressing her throat, that agitation became a spiral of reaction. Almost before she realized it, she was being pulled from trepidation down into a more mindless state—a state of mindless eagerness. She suckled Mal hard, drawing in her cheeks. As she did, she lifted her arse, instinctively offering to Gustav.
“There it is. They lose themselves after a while and then they become proper little sluts, willing to do anything for you.” That came from Jonathan. But his tone was amused, almost affectionate, the slur oddly not derogatory.
Either way, she’d found her center again. Having Mal in her mouth, him taking control, that was what had made her settle. This was now being commanded and arbitrated by him. She was the servant, created to serve a Master. This Master.
She let out a cry as Gustav started easing his cock into her arse. It burned, holy Mary, it burned. She shuddered, sucking Mal harder. She was going to split in two.
“She’s tightening up,” Gustav murmured. “I don’t want to push. She’s a virgin here.”
Mal’s fingers stroked her hair. “Christophe, suckle her nipples harder. Knead her breasts as you do it, almost bruising her. It makes her hotter and wetter. Her nipples are very sensitive.”
She cried out again as Christophe responded enthusiastically. While sensation spiraled faster through her, Gustav replaced the head of his cock with his fingers, one, then two, stretching her, his thumb teasing her rim, creating a rocket of sensations that had her surging forward on Mal, pushing her breasts deep in Christophe’s mouth, and relying entirely on Gustav’s hold on her waist to keep her upright.
Then Gustav’s cock was back. As her hips lifted and fell, and Christophe surged in deeper, Mal pumped into her throat harder.
Take more of me, Irish flower. Make me come with that clever mouth of yours
. Somewhere during that thought, Gustav pushed through the tight rings of muscle and drove deep. Christophe, in perfect sync, did the same.
She screamed against Mal’s cock, the burning pain and sense of fullness overwhelming, but Christophe was still teasing her breasts with his lashing tongue. He alternately kneaded them with his hands and then let their weight fall, creating an excruciating tingle in her nipples.
Keep working me, Elisa. Don’t forget your first duty is to your Master.
She was sobbing between pain and pleasure as she attacked him anew, sucking, licking frantically, accepting his punishing thrusts into her mouth, making those harsh moans at the back of her throat. She was losing control over her body in truth, just as Jonathan had said. She was a mindless, sexual creature, meant for fucking, buggering, every part of her given to their mouths, cocks, hands in a way she’d never experienced before. It was heinous, carnal, euphoric and utterly mindshattering. Having her hands tied behind her back where she couldn’t cup Mal’s testicle sac, or dig her fingers into his thighs, was an intimacy she longed to earn. Maybe he’d give her that after she served him properly. Maybe he’d let her clean him with her tongue after she brought him gushing forth.
Her body was rushing toward a hard, shattering orgasm the likes of which she knew she’d never experienced as well. It was a rough-andtumble fall down a steep hill, headed straight for a cliff, and no clawing or struggles were going to stop it. Christophe and Gustav were going at it now, smacking into her and grunting like the intent male animals they were. But she felt Mal’s eyes on her, and knew where her responsibility lay.
I’m going to come, Master.
Not yet. Not until I’ve come.
She was afraid he’d say that, but she renewed her effort, in a race with her own body as Christophe and Gustav inexorably dragged her that way. Mal’s hands were tightening in her hair, ruthlessly pulling at her scalp in a way that added to the sensation. She added her own plea to the demands he was sending her.
Please come for me, Master. I want to swallow you, feel you flood my mouth.
He let out a quiet snarl, and then he was coming, pushing into her throat so she had to work hard not to gag, her eyes tearing as the first stream shot down it, so profuse it hit the back of her throat and bathed his cockhead, filling her mouth. She had to close her lips tight on him, spreading the hot semen over him even as she frantically swallowed, wanting every drop. Apparently Gustav was given permission to loosen the collar on his cock, for he released then, right behind Mal. Christophe joined him a mere moment later. Three men filling her with their seed and heat, their passion and strength. She couldn’t hold off another second, her body spasming.
Come for your Master, Elisa.
She let out that raw, guttural cry, the one that said she was beyond feminine screams or shrieks. This was pure animal, the orgasm rocketing through her arse and cunt, the sensitive tips of her breasts, one still being teased and nipped by Christophe’s clever tongue. Mal’s hands had taken over for Gustav’s, holding her head up, hand fisted in her hair, working her on his length so that she had to milk the very last drop of sensation from him.

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