Vampire Trinity (42 page)

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Authors: Joey W. Hill

BOOK: Vampire Trinity
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So it was a test of them both, making sure she didn’t think she’d gotten away with any defiance on her part. Anwyn closed her hand on the whip. “I am more than capable, Lord Belizar. If the whip is properly formed and maintained.”
“Feel free to test it, fledgling.”
While Daegan waited, Gideon at his feet, his hand resting on her servant’s shoulder to keep his head down, she rose. Meeting Daegan’s gaze, she shook out the six-foot whip. Looking over the belly’s taper, she tested the balance of the braided length, as well as the weight of the handle. It was well made, as Belizar had indicated. The west end of the dining room where she and Daegan had been sitting was open space, as if intended for performances, so she moved back the right number of steps to take a few practice swings. A straight overhand, a flick, a coachman and a volley helped familiarize herself further with the single tail, the energy the body of the whip delivered to the popper. It was similar to the many she’d used at the club. The amazing difference was that she could actually see the popper snap, something impossible for the human eye to follow, since the resounding crack of a bullwhip came from the fact its speed broke the sound barrier, when thrown properly.
When she noted Stephen watching her with a sardonic sneer to his lips, and heard his mutter to Barbra, “She’s more likely to take out the Van Gogh on the opposite wall than stripe his back,” she executed a graceful overhead. The whip snaked out and took out Stephen’s wineglass, lifting it from the table and sending it spinning into the wall, well clear of the Van Gogh or any other artwork. The glass shattered, spreading wine over the stone like a bloodstain. Before anyone had time to react, the whip was back at her side.
“More than adequate, Lord Belizar,” she said, with a cool smile, caressing the handle. “Thank you. My apologies, Lord Stephen. You seemed concerned about my servant’s welfare, and I wanted to assure you of my expertise.”
She could tell she’d successfully impressed the Council members with her unexpected maneuver, and the fact that Stephen hadn’t been spattered with even a drop avoided any accusation of disrespect. Daegan gave her an inscrutable look, but she suspected he was applauding her effort. Gideon, his head still ostensibly bowed, had practically highfived her in her head, which would have amused her under normal circumstances. Unfortunately, it didn’t buffer what she was about to do to him with that lethal strap.
Serving staff quickly moved in to clean up the mess as she turned back to her two males. She could feel the anticipation building after her little performance. Seeing that bare back, already marked with her stripes, given reluctantly but in conjunction with pleasure, she felt torn between rage and her own despicable anticipation.
You know you like giving pain with pleasure, Mistress.
Gideon’s words from earlier.
Damning all of these monsters, including the one inside herself, she stepped forward, slid her arm around Gideon’s chest. Bending so she could press her cheek to his, she let her hair fall to curtain them both.
They want me to make it hurt, to punish you. Can we refuse?
No.
It was simultaneous, from both Daegan and Gideon.
She closed her eyes.
I hate this. This isn’t what it’s about, Gideon. Not what it’s supposed to be
.
His hand came up, gripped her wrist.
Then make it what it’s supposed to be. I don’t fear any pain at your hands, Anwyn. A weird part of me . . . Well, you already know, right?
She nodded, gave him an additional squeeze, and then paced back, locking gazes with Daegan. The vampire didn’t have to do this, didn’t want to do this any more than she did. She knew that with a clarity that made it hard to breathe. He was doing this for her, to ensure she was accepted by this world, and so Gideon’s life wasn’t taken. Over the past month, for the past five years, he’d been part of her life, the best and the worst, and he’d refused to give up on her or the love he wanted from her.
She didn’t know what foolishness had ever made her doubt his love for her, just because he wouldn’t say the words. On that same note, she knew she’d never doubt Gideon’s love for her, either. No matter he hadn’t quite sorted out his feelings, he was trusting her implicitly, the most important step toward unconditional love. When the day came that he couldn’t be part of this world, she’d accept and know it wasn’t because his love for her wasn’t great enough. Some scars in a man’s heart could never heal, no matter how much he, or she, wished they could.
Tying it all together, Daegan spoke in her mind.
You can do this,
cher
. All three of us can. Just breathe, and know that we love you.
Gideon gave a faint nod, though he kept his gaze on the floor. His broad shoulders rose and fell, slow breaths. He was preparing himself. That slight acknowledgment was a simple declaration, a reassurance that undermined the foundation of this horrible moment.
They were different from everyone else here. She wanted to give both of them what they gave her. She was done setting conditions of her own, except the conditions Gideon needed from her as Mistress, and those that she and Daegan embraced for that glorious push-pull relationship they had. It was a miracle, all three sides of their trinity. Even if it couldn’t be forever, it didn’t make it less miraculous, less valuable.
Meeting Daegan’s gaze once more, she saw his burning response to her thoughts and nodded.
Let’s do this.
Daegan had worn a jacket, slacks and a silk shirt, so now he shrugged out of the coat, putting it into the ready hands of a waitstaff person. He unbuttoned his shirt in a carelessly sensual way, then opened his trousers. He kept them on his waist, of course, so the Council was not granted the vulnerable look at his bare ass they’d require of a servant. When he freed his cock, Anwyn let herself indulge the moment, the pleasure of watching it stretch out long and hard toward Gideon’s taut mouth, and know no other lusting mind at this table had the right to touch it, tease it, the way she did . . . and had so often.
Don’t distract me,
cher
.
Daegan’s warning made her want to smile. Mostly because she knew it might be a while before she’d feel like smiling again.
“Take me deep,” Daegan murmured, moving his hand to Gideon’s hair. Sliding his fingers through the clean, thick strands, he cupped the back of the man’s skull. Anwyn was in Gideon’s mind when he tasted the first salty flavor of the broad head, let it move between his parted lips. Then Daegan pushed all the way in, a rough, urgent move, as if he didn’t care to hold back his desire anymore. At that moment, Anwyn landed the first strike.
She’d had the occasional client who wanted his flesh split open. Even at her club, they limited that to three strikes. She’d had only one who made it to that number. The reality of it was far different from the imagining. It could require stitches, leave permanent scars. She didn’t encourage it. She wanted her club to be a haven for those who used pain as an avenue to a complete bonding between Dominant and submissive, not to feed a destructive pain addiction.
The heart rate accelerated under extreme pain, and adrenaline kicked in. When the pain grew too intense, and there was no safe word, as now, the mind would go into fight or flight mode. There would be struggling panic, or rage. She expected at least the latter from Gideon, which made it more impressive to see him hold his position. The Council was visibly amazed that she hadn’t chosen to bind him, because staying still would be almost impossible as the pain got worse. She knew Daegan would help with that, though.
The third mark helped Gideon’s resilience considerably, but she knew beyond all of that, it was his heartbreaking stubbornness that kept his body jerking but his knees still. A slight noise came from the back of his throat on strike eight. Daegan pushed him deep onto him, and Gideon bucked, this time for another reason.
Swallow, love. Concentrate on relaxing your throat. He’s a lot to take at once. Relax the muscles in the back. Let your saliva gather to lubricate him. Suck your cheeks in as he pulls out and pushes in. The suction increases the pleasure. And use your tongue.
Then she struck again, the whip leaving a red, angry stripe across the broad back, the shoulders that had borne so much.
Gideon knew what a cock felt like, knew that sense of steel under liquid silk of a blood-filled erection. The way the tip would pearl with pre-come, indicated by the musky taste on his tongue now. Daegan had large balls, of course. At another time, when he didn’t feel like a flamethrower was being used on his back, he would have been tempted to cup and squeeze them. The random thought would have horrified him, but for the overwhelming pain which kept him from embarrassing himself in such a crazy way. That, and Daegan’s order to keep his palms on his knees, which gave Anwyn a clear strike field.
On the eleventh strike, it started to get crazy. Crazier, really. Pain, rebellion, pleasure, need. It all started to roll together, like a snowball, though this one had jagged glass that stuck out like people’s feet and hands in the cartoons when they rolled down a hill.
Perversely, though, the pain helped. It wiped everything out of his mind. What he was doing to another male, what the Council was watching and would decide to do next, any worry about this being too much for Anwyn, possibly triggering another attack.
The Council had done them all a favor, bringing the mind-wiping pain into it for him. They were linked together in one focus. Anwyn kept up that quiet murmur of encouragement, reassurance, even as Daegan flavored it with the sexy male commands to suck him harder.
Fuck, your mouth feels good, vampire hunter.
How he could be getting harder during this was one of those fucking twisted vampire-servant things. He groaned, a half scream, as the next strike landed and fire erupted anew. Holy Christ, it hurt. It hurt like all the lonely moments when he’d crouched in dark places, soaked to the ankles in blood. It hurt like it did when the adrenaline drained away, leaving him standing over a body to be burned, an area to be cleaned up. It hurt like all the hard, dirty mattresses he’d slept on alone.
Thwack
.
He didn’t know where the emotional shit was coming from, so he sucked harder, focused on the physical, because that was damned baffling and amazing at once. His mindless cock was straining. Was his lust simple, bestial reaction to doing something that most males enjoyed so much themselves? Or was it deeper than that? Was he actually getting stiff from doing this to Daegan? Being on his knees, taking the vampire’s cock, tasting him, giving him pleasure, making him shudder as he handled him as roughly as he’d want it done to himself? Slickly sliding up and down, teasing him with a tongue that seemed to have a mind and direction of its own, flicking at the vein beneath the broad head, then down, following that thick ridge, sucking hard on the whole thing like a favorite damn treat.
And he was doing it while experiencing some of the worst pain he’d ever felt. Fuck, he was having to imagine his knees nailed into the ground to keep from bolting. His whole body was shaking, and his gut was turning over.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
He strangled on the cry, unable to stop himself. The blood was running down his back, over the dried blood from earlier. The pain and irritation were beyond description, just a white inferno. His hands clenched on his thighs. Holy Christ. What number were they on?
Let go, love. Just let it go. It doesn’t matter.
He locked the Council out of his mind. He deserved suffering, but the pain of this lash could make him free. It would creep into his battered heart and soul, make him let go, take him to a place where he’d just feel what Daegan and Anwyn were doing to him forever. But oh, how it hurt. There was nothing but them, but it was all pain, and pleasure, never one without the other.
Daegan reached down then, gripped Gideon’s fists and lifted them so Gideon’s hands were clasped over Daegan’s hips, digging into him with hard fingers, an anchor. Daegan kept his hands manacled on Gideon’s wrists, so when the next lash landed, and Gideon reflexively jerked back, he was held fast, Daegan making him a prisoner. It just made him hotter, harder.
He was still pumping him with his mouth, but he was in full, hellfire agony, and didn’t know how much longer he could keep it up.
Thwack. Thwack
. She was striping over existing wounds now. He didn’t want to scream, would bite down on his tongue if Daegan’s cock wasn’t there, and fortunately for the vampire he had enough of a brain not to do that. He dug his fingers hard into his thigh muscles, bruising. He wouldn’t scream, not in front of those assholes, whatever they were thinking.

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