Storywitch's "Book of Shadows"

Here’s the conclusion of Lyssa and Thomas’s vignette. Hope you enjoy it and everyone has a lovely upcoming Easter. I’ll take about a two-week break and then start on the long awaited Mason and Jessica vignette!

* * * * *

He lifted his chin, giving her access. Though she saw he was sure of his decision, it didn’t stop a tremor from running through those strong arms, holding tight to the bonds. She paused, running a palm up the smooth biceps, to his forearm. “Ease your grip, monk. You are in your bed, dreaming. You will not resist me, your body flowing to my will like water. Do not tense against me. That is my command.”

Slowly, he complied, taking one deep breath that expanded his bare chest, then another. She nodded as his fingers slackened, letting go of the sash, and he was all hers, whatever she wanted to do to him. As he realized the power and truth of that, it did add rigidity to one part of him, the part she wanted straining with all its might toward her. For now, she kept that pleasure as a peripheral awareness as she pulled her loose hair to one side, tumbling it over her left shoulder, and brought her mouth to his throat.

One had to be a vampire, or perhaps a surgeon, to understand how vulnerable the human throat was to a mortal attack. A simple depression on the windpipe for the proper number of seconds, or one puncture on the carotid, and life would slip away like a dust mote through desperately grasping fingers. The body understood that, so it took a great act of will to do what Thomas was doing now. Obeying her, refusing his instinct to protect himself in any futile way. Putting her mouth over that artery, she heard the rush of sweet blood through it, could smell it through his skin. Aligning her fangs appropriately, she let them sink in, with slow, savoring pleasure.

Many human vessels had supplied her blood needs, but all vampires knew the gift of a thirdmark’s blood. That very first time, when the marking happened, was sweetest of all. It was stepping across a gateway into a world heretofore unknown. The territory of Thomas’s soul would be open to her, to explore and cherish for all eternity.

She released the serum with a press of her tongue behind the fang, and felt his jolt at the tingling fire of it. He was used to feeding her, had on occasion fed her intimately from his throat or wrist when circumstances didn’t allow him to drain his blood into a wine glass for her, so she didn’t need to do anything to blunt the pain. She doubted she would have, anyhow. He was already intensely aroused, but more than that, she wanted to know every reaction was his own tonight.

During the second mark, the mind unfolded before the vampire, but this was like going from an anteroom in Heaven into the full spread of Eden. She saw more than memories and fleeting emotions. She saw the tangled, miraculous tapestry that made Thomas everything he was, every experience, thought, feeling, instinct and unconscious need. That unconscious level was a limitless ocean for her exploration, filled with jeweled colors. She didn’t look too closely at it right now, just enjoyed the feel of that energy coursing through her, as if she were a Fate with her fingers on the loom, feeling those strands quiver under her touch. It was the ultimate bond, something Thomas had probably thought was only possible in the afterlife, this sense of total connection to another. She let the strands tighten in her grasp, strengthening their binding, even as she absorbed the feeling herself, a warm tropical wind on her soul that would never die, so long as he lived.

But it was not done yet. There was a part he’d never experienced. As her secondmark, he’d remarkably not yet had an injury severe enough to need her blood. She gave him a parting nuzzle from her lips and tongue, and then raised her hand to her own throat. She wore a sharp-tipped cover over one finger, a pretty but lethal-looking silver and jade bauble that allowed her to pierce her artery cleanly when needed. She did it now, and then, sliding her hand under his head to cup his skull, she lifted it as much as his bonds would allow. Letting him feel the strain in his arms, she lowered her throat the rest of the way.

Drink, Thomas. Take what I am offering, and seal the bond between us.

When his mouth closed over the puncture, her body reacted with a near-climactic intensity, her thighs tightening, tips of her breasts hardening anew. Her heart accelerated with the pleasure of conquest and willing surrender at once. He was pulling against the bonds now, his body bowed up toward her, not out of tension as before, but a begging need for her.

And there it was. She closed her eyes as the flash went through her, a powerful wave that emanated out from the bite area and swept through the bloodstream, injecting heat through all her veins and spreading fire briefly over her skin. That tapestry became fully illuminated, no more shadows or twisting tunnels. It was a garden in truth, and she could partake of every inch of it. Now, though, her body was humming for only one thing, and it told her urgently that it didn’t want to wait much longer.

Still, she knew the benefits of inflicting anticipation on herself as much as on her servant, who had almost abandoned any notion of civility. He was now pressing his teeth into her flesh. Something fascinatingly like a growl was simmering in his throat. The male animal was breaking through all those layers, the ones created by his vow and absurd notions of human civility.

Using her hand, fingers spread wide on his chest, she pushed him down with irresistible strength until he was flat on the ground again. She met his gaze, the command in her eyes, the set of her mouth. Watching his face, the tense lips, the heated gray eyes, she slid her forefinger under the waistband of the straining trousers. With her other hand, she cupped the prominent evidence of his erection, giving herself the delight of touching that rigid column. He was a very impressive size. From his bathing, she knew he had an attractive shape and weight, typical for a well-made man. But his arousal tonight had taken him far past the size she would have expected. It pleased her, on many different levels.

My lady, what are you doing to me?

Whatever I wish. Where is my calm and gentle monk? All his famed control? Was I wrong in agreeing not to let you release for me earlier? Will you come all over my hand now, before I can put you inside of me?

It took a long, bated moment, where she reveled in the fiery struggle inside him, but then he shook his head, a sharp shake.

I wait on my lady’s pleasure.

He was her pleasure. Beginning and end. She opened the front of the pants, removed them and his undergarments, stripping him bare to her gaze. He’d been barefoot when she came in, and on impulse, she bent and let her hair brush his sensitive arches, smiling when his toes twitched and the feet jerked. She wound a lock around one, tickled it further until he huffed at her, a light snort at her antics. Then her gaze traveled upward and amusement was replaced by something far more serious.

His cock was high and tight, brushing his belly, already leaking so that the head was slick with that viscous white fluid. When she touched it with one fingertip, slowly massaging the semen around the slit in idle circles, he groaned, another animal noise. His thighs trembled. The restraint was impressive, because she could see the white-hot need in his mind. Anticipating her, he’d even resisted the idea of reciting Bible verses in his head to distract himself. He knew she wanted to test him, wanted a hundred percent of his attention upon her.

I was wrong. His thought was a hoarse whisper in her mind. You would not visit the devil in Hell, my lady. You are her.

“Well, if it’s possible God is a woman, why not the Devil? We all know women are far more likely to be arch enemies.” Sliding her nail down the pulsing vein below the glans, she tilted her head. “What was that, Thomas? Speak what you are thinking now.”

His jaw tightened. “I will die if you do not fuck me, my lady. I want to be inside of you, thrusting…hammering… Please do it, before you shame me further.”

Hearing those raw words fall from his cultured lips gave her shivers in all the right ways. “There’s no shame here, Thomas. Not now, not ever. You are never allowed to think of this in shame, or I shall be very angry with you.”

When she closed her hand on his base in illustration, a tight manacle, she noted the way his eyes were clinging to the movement of her breasts, the slope of her abdomen down to her naked thighs. Those eyes sought the treasure hiding in between as she sat next to him with her legs folded. “I am so very wet, Thomas. I will slide down your cock like cream over a butter churn. When I am done, I will straddle your face, and you will lick me clean.”

“Yes, my lady. Please…”

She let the robe fall from her shoulders and stood, aware of his intent regard, that way he had of studying every detail so closely, missing nothing, not an inch of her flesh, or the aroused state of her body. Pleased with him and heavy with the sensual power of it, she stepped over him with lazy grace so she straddled his hips. “You will not move, Thomas. I shall put you inside of me, and you will not thrust until I give you permission. When I do, I want to feel every ounce of that male strength you possess.”

He nodded. Something steadied in him then, something that made everything in him zero in on what she was about to do, wait on that precipice in anticipatory silence, both body and mind. Like a warrior, facing that last moment before battle, when all anticipation had to be focused on the objective. All senses honed to razor fineness for the split-second life and death decisions that lay directly ahead on the path of his fate. Lowering herself so her knees pressed to the outside of his thighs, she brushed her cunt over his cock, a passing stroke along its length. Gathering up her hair, she stretched above him, using only the strength of her thighs and balance to flirt with that organ, tease it with her undulations. Her dance offered him sinuous arches of her spine, provocative thrusts of her breasts, as she moved on him. His gaze was riveted on her, his tongue touching dry lips with hungry need that made her think of that clever mouth between her legs again.

“I will have you quote Dante while you clean my cunt,” she whispered, knowing from the heat washing through her that her eyes had flickered to near crimson among the jade lights. “I want to feel the vibration of those words against my skin, my scholar.”

‘Here must all distrust be left behind; all cowardice must be ended.’ His gray eyes were molten steel, and her lips parted at the fervency behind the quote she heard in his mind. She would deny herself no more.

At the next upward roll of her hips, she captured his broad head in the mouth of her sex, took it inside just an inch and squeezed down on it, letting him feel the kiss of moisture and heat. His hands clenched into fists, holding himself back, and she watched the ripple of very non-monkish muscles, from powerful shoulders to striated abdomen and flexing thighs. Thank the Goddess her monk liked hard, physical work. He was lean, but there was no soft spot on him. Except his heart.

Slowly, she let herself glide further down. His engorged organ penetrated deep, stretching her until she came to a rest against his pubic region. The wet petals of her sex kissed him fully, pressing into that intimate area. In the sensitive region between her cunt and buttocks, she could feel the give of his heavy testicles.

She met his brilliant, lust-filled gaze. Show me your strength, Thomas. Unleash that thirdmark and do as you will with it.

Even though she could see it coming, it took her breath, how it possessed him. She had expected him to thrust into her from his current position on his back, take her on a hard ride on his loins. However, that expectation was gone in a flash. Instead, he tore the sash loose from the foot of the bed with a rip of fabric so decisive the strip unraveled from his wrists as he moved. He flipped them, put her under him, one arm locked strong and sure about her waist so he did not tumble her. As he brought her to her back, he reseated himself with a thrust so intent that it wrenched a cry from her own throat at the thrilling rocket of sensation that went through her. His bare body pressed down on hers, his chest against her breasts, his pumping buttocks underneath her heels. She locked him to her, arms and legs clasped with unbreakable strength around his body.

He was moving her with his thrusts, and he cupped his hand under her neck, tilting her head back and returning to her throat, sealing his mouth on that bite mark. Not to drink this time, but to put the impression of his teeth there again, his breath hot and rasping, moist against her sensitive flesh. The hair at his temple brushed the side of her face, his biceps flexing against her arms as he held her just as tightly.

Yes, Thomas. I’m all yours, sweet monk. For tonight, I am as much yours as you are mine. That is the gift the thirdmark gives us both.

He was beyond words, but as in all things, he amazed her, because though he was a man with no more than a stable lad’s experience, he’d learned a great deal from watching her with other lovers. I will…not release…until I bring you…pleasure.

It was overwhelming, to hear the thought in his mind against the rutting savagery in his face, in the powerful movements of his body. The way his fingers clamped upon her. Every stroke inside of her was torture and heaven at once. Inside his soul so deeply now, she could feel how it felt to him, the wet silk of her sucking along his length, pulling and drawing on him, demanding his seed. Yet every hard smack when he surged forward brought him against her clit, already well stimulated to swollen need before she’d ever brought him inside her. As she arched up, ready to go with him, he left her throat and bent, taking her left nipple in his mouth, drawing hard, demonstrating a devilish knowledge of the workings of a woman’s aroused body.

The shudder of the climax spread through her lower abdomen, making her thighs tingle with heat, and she gave him another gift. She let him into her mind now, let him feel and see it coming, increasing the power of the climax that was about to crash over them both.

“Now, Thomas,” she whispered in a thready voice. “Give yourself to me now. All of you.” And then her whisper escalated into a sound of pleasure as her clit rippled, her sex clutching him hard, demanding he obey her. In that second, she turned the tables on him, riding the power of that wave to flip them back over with her vampire strength. Taking him to his back, she collared his throat with one hand, holding him to the ground as she worked herself atop him, slamming her hips down on his cock as it began to spurt seed inside of her. One of his hands gripped her hip, the other closing on her rigid forearm. As his eyes met hers, it wasn’t clear who was in control…or who wasn’t. She knew it didn’t matter.

She jerked back against his hold, a cry tearing from her throat as the new angle pushed her up over a higher edge. The jet of his semen increased that pleasure, and she fed herself on his guttural roar of completion, as much animal as any man in such a moment. Yet so much more, her monk.

He went for awhile. It had built up in him for a long time, of course, but she knew it was more than that. The carnal intensity of a third mark gave him an increase in stamina and duration. All the things that would bring a vampire mistress greater pleasure, when she used him for her needs.

Only in this case, that knowledge would not be put to use. She already knew he wouldn’t break his oath to God again, unless she pushed him to breaking. She might make him pay for his restraint with various little torments, but she had too much regard for him to take it further than that. In the end, they would both be tested for the decades ahead.

When he met her gaze, she knew she’d left her mind open to him for that. Though not intentional, she didn’t regret it. As the climax slowly ebbed, she eased her grip on his throat, gave him a rueful smile. Her limbs shuddered as she slipped off to the side, and was pleased when his arm came up and around her, gathering her close, so that she could rest in the shelter of his body.

“God bless you, my lady,” he murmured.

* * * * *

He would doze some now, as most men did. She’d turned away to give him that breather, but backed her body into his, encouraging him to curl around her. She liked the feel of his bare chest pressing against her shoulder blades, her long hair spread over both of them, tangled in their limbs. His damp cock pressed against her buttocks, his thighs cupping hers. He had his arm over her, holding her close, his mouth against her neck, which kept a thrum of sensation cycling through her. Every now and then, she made small movements against him, tiny presses, enjoying the feel of his body and wanting to move against it like the ocean, a tidal rhythm of teasing strokes.

He was breathing deeply, yet after a time she knew it was not the even breath of sleep. She turned in his arms to face him, sliding one long nailed finger along his cheek, her thumb against his mouth. His eyes were stark with emotion, and when she reached into his mind, it was a tangled garden of reaction, thorns and petals, rich soil and the blaze of the sun. “You’re all right, my quiet monk?” she asked.

He gave her a nod, swallowed and laid his fingers over hers on his mouth, tracing her knuckles. “Though I sometimes doubt my faith, my lady, I am glad I have it. Because if you were my faith, I would follow you through a dozen lifetimes to always be at your side. If you ever gave me your heart as freely as your body, I’m not certain there’s anything I wouldn’t do for you. It makes me realize that it will take a very, very brave man to dare to love you fully. And,” he added with a touch of a smile, “it makes me relieved and yet sad not to be that man.”

Tilting her head into his hand, she pressed her mouth to it. “You are brave enough for me, Thomas. I will be glad to have you at my side in this life, as many years as your God is willing to loan you to me. I will consider it singular evidence that He has in fact blessed me.”

Then she tilted her head back and gave him her usual devilish smile. “Or cursed you.”

Thomas gave a half laugh, then a groan as her hands closed on his cock, stirring to life again. “It’s still some time until dawn, monk,” she said, that relentless glint staying in her eye. “You will serve me until the sun rises.”

“As you wish, my lady.” But after the sun rises…

“If ever you abandon your celibacy, I will gladly welcome you to my bed. But I will never require it of you. While I do not share your view of what God is or demands of his servants, I know the love and faith you carry in your heart. As my third mark, I see how deeply that penetrates you. In truth, I already knew that.”

A sad smile touched her lips, but she rose to her elbow, locking her gaze with his. She felt how her next words surprised and moved him, and knew she’d tuck that reaction into her heart, along with everything else about this night. It helped her strengthen her voice, let him hear the promise in her voice, the oath of a vampire queen.

“Hear me now, before I take you again. When the dawn comes, it will be my privilege, my regret and my torment to honor that part of you. For the rest of our lives together.”

This entry was posted on Friday, March 26th, 2010 at 12:10 pm and is filed under General. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.