Bound by the Vampire Queen (24 page)

Immediately, she returned to the same position and four others zipped over from Rhoswen, wanting the same treatment.

The pixies they’d met in the mountains had been similar in their childlike delight with the simplest things, and Lyssa expected Jacob had acted on his memory of that. He took the time to blow each one back in the same manner, patiently giving them all a turn, though his body continued to quiver from the sensual abuse it was enduring. Her servant, nearly tormented to madness for their pleasure, at the same time indulging the whimsical play of the tiny creatures. He couldn’t resist female demands, large or small.

You have a generous heart, my love.

And a cock so frozen it’s going to snap off if you don’t decide to do something to heat it up soon.

With respect, my lady.

He bared his fangs, the reddish glint of his eyes telling her that, whimsical play or not, her servant’s savage lust was still ready to be called at her will .

Rhoswen returned to the table, but not to take a seat. She took one more swallow out of the small teacup, spreading the lingering moisture over her lips to make them glisten. When Jacob’s gaze focused on them, she gave a feline smile, glanced at Lyssa. “I tire of idle chatter.”

Sliding her filmy garment off her shoulders, she let it drop. She wore nothing under it, but her body was marked with inked patterns like henna, intricate symbols and swirls that caught the eye, drew in the mind. The design curved over her shoulders, around her biceps and snaked down her back and upper abdomen, finishing in a single curl on her upper thigh. Butterflies, exotic flowers and dragons hid in the pattern. It was dizzying and titillating both, inviting touch.

Jacob looked, as he knew she wanted him to do.

The round high breasts she’d displayed in the corset were just as appealing now, every man’s fantasy in proportion with the curved hips and slim thighs.

When she pul ed the jeweled clasp out of her hair, the pale silken skeins fell past her hips.

She turned to Lyssa then, a mute invitation. Lyssa rose, dropping the gold and green robe, but kept on the transparent black lace garment. She moved around the chair with that dark, dangerous sensuality she did so well. As she came closer to the queen, close enough to touch, Jacob thought that seeing them together was enough to tempt a man with all sorts of damnation.

“I think you rarely get the chance to have a conversation like this, either,” Lyssa observed.

Rhoswen obviously hadn’t expected Lyssa to move into her personal space so intimately or continue the conversation thread. Her face tightened, her body going rigid, but she held her ground. The corner of her mouth curled in scorn. “I do not feel any kinship with you. Your being a queen in your world means nothing here.”

“I was told the Fae do not lie. We are not in front of your guard, or your imaginary retainers. It is just us.

You invited me to have tea here with you, alone.”

“You set the terms for this meeting.”

“Yes. I offered to share my servant with you. If that was all you desired, we would have already been doing that. Instead, you invited me to tea, and you have a child’s tea set, a doll that looks like me for some reason. I think you are not sure whether to hate me for who I am, or embrace me as the last remnant of what you have lost.”

Lyssa held her gaze as she slowly reached out, slid her knuckles in a measured gesture along the woman’s cheek. The queen quivered. In her eyes, there was something alive and almost too big for the room. Lyssa touched her still mouth with a thumb, a gentle caress.

“We are half sisters. Aren’t we, Your Majesty?” It was equally breathtaking and terrifying to watch his lady figure out the path into someone’s soul.

Thinking of her lack of confidence earlier, Jacob wondered that she couldn’t see her aptitude for it. If she died and went to Hell, it would be not for her sins, but because the devil needed her skill in parsing souls.

If he went, it would be not only to follow her wherever she went, but because he was far past the point of selling his soul for some relief. Despite the serious nature of their conversation, or maybe because of it, he was about to howl like a wolf caged in a room full of females in heat. It wasn’t far from the truth.

Lyssa stepped back, not letting her touch linger, which was a good call. The Fae queen now looked as remote as one of her ice statues, everything she was hidden behind that cold exterior.

“When I was young,” Lyssa said, “I was told that Fae didn’t feel sorrow. How could they? They weren’t mortal, they didn’t experience the wax and wane of aging, the sorrows and joys that could happen in the same finite lifetime. But vampires aren’t mortal, either, and I found out that sorrow and joy are part of every life, no matter how long.”

As she spoke, she moved across the room, glancing over her shoulder at Rhoswen. Reaching Jacob, she settled against him, rubbing her ass against his cock, pressing her shoulder blades to his chest and abdomen. His body reacted as if she’d impaled herself. He clenched his hands into fists, dropped his head enough to nuzzle at her ear. She let him tease her throat, but kept her eyes on Rhoswen. The queen watched them, motionless, expressionless.

“Earlier, I implied you don’t know how it feels to love someone with your entire soul. You see it from a distance, like a treasure you want but that eludes you. It makes you angry, a child deprived of a shiny toy she really wants, so she’s cruel to others who have it. Or you take the toy away and destroy it.” She flicked her glance up at Jacob. “Or test its limits to the breaking point. But I think it’s far more complicated than that, and far less trivial.”

“I love no one with my entire soul. I don’t have that luxury.” When Rhoswen spoke, there was a hoarse, unsteady note to it, an uncontained wildness in her eyes.

Tread carefully, my lady. She’s a rattlesnake, and the rattle is at full volume.

“I didn’t think I had that luxury, either,” Lyssa responded. Shifting so she was half facing Jacob, but where Rhoswen could see what she was doing, she slid a hand over his side, tracing the muscles stretched so tight in his restrained position. Leaning in, she curled her tongue, a delicate torture instrument, over the ice rod piercing his nipple. He made an animal noise of need. “But then I learned it wasn’t a luxury at all. It was brutal, demanding that I tear myself open down to the soul and find out how strong I really was.”

Her gaze met Jacob’s. “When my life fell around me, and all was darkness, it was that which made me a strong queen. A better woman.”

She had her palm on his heart now, the heel of her hand resting on the ice rod, giving him an erotic tease as she gave him that gesture of intimacy. “In hindsight, I think I used being a queen as an excuse.

It was my fear that stopped me.”

Rhoswen moved forward, the slide of her thighs framing her sex, the movement of her body making the tattoo writhe in a sinuous pattern on her skin. In some places, he thought he saw the dragons, butterflies and other life forms in the design glimmer, shift to new positions. When she reached them, she faced Lyssa, Jacob between them. He sucked in a breath as she drew sharp nails down his side, deep enough to leave rivulets in the valleys between the ribs. They seeped small drops of blood. “You are no longer considered a queen by the vampires, and you are an outcast, a lower Fae at my mercy.”

“I beg to differ, Your Majesty.” Jacob managed to speak, though with a thick throat, his hands and forearms flexing under the silver manacles. “She’s more queen now than she ever was. She doesn’t need smoke and mirrors to validate it. It’s obvious to all. Especially to you.”

Now who’s pulling the rattlesnake’s tail?
Lyssa gave him the gentle reproof as he grunted, the result of the Fae queen closing her hand on his cock cruelly tight. He was pretty certain they’d wrench a scream for mercy from him soon.

Fluid leaked from the tip of his organ, dissipating the light coating of frost over the head with the heat of his seed. Rhoswen swiped it with a finger and brought it to her lips, touching it to her tongue. “You already know it is very unlikely you will leave my world alive, vampire. But I can make it a painful end or a fast one.”

“With respect, Your Majesty, my own lady has implied the same, many times.”

Unexpectedly, Rhoswen laughed, a brittle sound.

“I’m sure of that.” Her grip eased, and now her nails stroked along his length. She lifted a brow toward Lyssa. “I am feeling the effects of the lilania. How about you… sister?” Her voice was mocking, neither denying nor confirming the truth that hung in the air between them.

Lyssa flattened her palm on his chest. She followed the same track, down to where Rhoswen’s hand was, until both their fingers curved over him, Rhoswen adjusting to cup his testicle sac while Lyssa took over stroking the shaft.

Everything about Jacob—the straining muscles displayed so well by his restrained body, the enormous cock, his ass clenched tight and back muscles rippling, those hungry eyes and tempting mouth—Lyssa knew all those features, yet the tea was making them even more vivid to her. She thought of the beetles in her garden, the way they moved so slowly over the surface of a leaf, exploring and biting. She wanted to do that to him, wanted to tease and taste. She was wet, her thighs soaked with her fluid already, and he could smell it, those nostrils flared. Even though he registered the Fae queen was aroused, an additional stimulant for his carnal nature, he was keyed in to her unique aroma, his mate’s scent.

“I want that delectable backside.” Rhoswen’s fingers trailed over his flesh. “You may have his front, and enjoy the special pleasure of a cock encased in ice magic. That also gives you the fang side of this beast. I have no desire to be bitten. When I was talking about the possibility of fucking him to death, it made him harder, did you notice? He’s a twisted, dark creature.”

“You ladies make it difficult to care about self-preservation.” Jacob’s voice was touched by his wry humor, mixed with courtier charm. However, it was also hoarse, his desperate need obvious, infused with heated lust. The vampire in him made that urgency a violent demand, though the servant in him was keeping it contained, barely.

When

Lyssa stepped in front of him again, the battle between the two was clear in the way his hungry blue gaze coursed over her, his fangs stabbing over his bottom lip.

Touch me. I need to feel your hands. Their heat.

He of course knew the demand would earn him nothing but cruel denial. He expected it, even as Lyssa knew the demand was made in earnest. In the end, it wasn’t about games at all, but brutal honesty and need. Giving him a look so unmoved by his plea it made him bare his fangs in a savage grin, she instead inched the dress up to her hips. When Rhoswen slid around to his back, Lyssa bent over, exposing her ass and wet pussy to him. The broad head of his cock brushed her buttock. He tried to stab into the wet folds he wanted, but of course he didn’t have that range of movement.

She spread her legs, reached through them and back, high enough to clasp him as Rhoswen had.

She had to maneuver him to a downward angle, but as long and thick as he was right now, he was able to amply accommodate her. Closing her thighs over that icy coolness, she reveled in the unique feel of it, the coolness somehow meliorated by the furnace heat beneath, the pressure of seed boiling in his testicles, ready to spurt inside her. It made her shiver, remembering how that virility had put Kane inside of her, a rare vampire child, binding them in yet another forever way. She also felt vibration, shudders of reaction from the rest of his body translating to that steel bar between her legs. She played with him, taking her time, sliding herself over the broad head then several inches up his length.

Then back down. Jacob yanked against his bindings so hard the frame quivered. “Fuck… my lady.”

“Shhh,” she murmured. She turned her head to see what the Fae queen was doing. Rhoswen had moved behind Jacob, but the queen was standing a pace back, still watching them. However, now that Lyssa’s attention turned to her, Rhoswen withdrew the ice phallus from Jacob’s rectum, earning a grunt from him, a tightening of his face against the searing feel of it. Discarding that into a basin on a table, she took what appeared to be a heavy crystal phallus from a side wardrobe.

Inside the facets of the object, spirals of lights played. She slid it into a harness made of sturdy cloth with a velvet overlay, a beautiful piece of embroidery that could have been the girdle of a medieval dress. Small, jewel-like bell's were sewn into the design. As she tightened it on herself, they made a pleasant chiming noise. However, Lyssa’s sharp eyes saw another embellishment to the girdle.

Barbed prongs were worked into the fabric. As she pushed the phallus into Jacob, they would catch on his flesh, tear at it in tiny, savage bites. He would be goaded toward climax, but the pain would be the reins holding him back. At least in theory. She knew her servant well.

Lyssa rotated her hips on him, giving him a tempting view of her ass, and was fiercely delighted by the barrage of images that went through his head.

Shoving her down to her knees, fucking her slick cunt, with all the brutal strength of a stallion at the end of his patience. Fuck, he couldn’t wait much longer.

She was dripping on him, and he wanted to lick all that cream away, then kiss her, let her taste herself on his mouth. He’d never been so hard in all his life.

And yet he’d wait on her pleasure.

Only by my will, Sir Vagabond. Don’t forget.

Yes, my lady.
It was all he could manage, his mind caught in a maelstrom.

Straightening with calculated slowness, she slid off him and turned, just as Rhoswen positioned herself behind him. “Mount him,” she told Lyssa. “I want to feel him inside you when I take him from behind. I want to feel the flex of his ass muscles over this crystal cock while he’s pumping into you.”

“Take time to enjoy the view,” Lyssa advised, giving Rhoswen a look of sensual accord. “Seeing those cheeks flex when he takes a woman is worth an extra moment. But when you put the phallus in, know that he'll resist, making it an even tighter fit.