Doing It To Death: Shivers and Sins Volume 2 Page 19

  The pulse of music and lights was inescapable, even up here in the narrow hallway leading to the box. The music thrummed with increasing intensity and I checked my watch. Fifteen minutes to show time.

  I smirked, imagining Stark’s alpha ass pacing backstage in some sequined number, done up like a precious jewel for Sundara’s pleasure, and slid the key card into the slot.

  I didn’t realize my palms were slick until I touched the handle. Darkness waited for me as I entered the booth.

  Darkness and one light. No. Hundreds of lights. Hundreds of twinkling jewels glowing against Evie’s sheer dress. She sat primly on the edge of the circular red leather chaise, staring up at a monitor, watching the decadence. Her hair flowed straight down to the ends of her shoulder blades, dotted with tiny jewels, held in place by pins or some sheer headdress. Her nude body had become the centerpiece underneath a gown worth a king’s ransom, jeweled straps holding up the curve-hugging number. Evie noticed me staring and jumped to her feet. Drop earrings swayed, much like the crystals draping her upper arms. Her pink mouth opened wide and her black eyes opened wider as she took in the sight of me.

  She immediately wiped any trace of admiration off her face when I gave her lopsided grin in response.

  I had to suppress a shiver of pure want when she turned away from me and revealed the deep scoop in the back of the dress. The dimples pointing to the sway of her ass, the curves visible in the sheer fabric, made my fingers itch to touch her. I wanted to rip the dress up over the firm cheeks and slide my cock inside the inviting cleft. My imagination toyed with the sound of crystals skittering across the floor as the fabric tore, so vivid an image, I almost did the deed.

  But, Evie threw me a glance over her shoulder, knowing my thoughts, and reading the intensity of my desires. I saw the faint shudder coursing over her skin, the goosebumps that rose where my gaze landed on her.

  Hypnotized by the way the material lit her body up with rainbows of light, I battled my base needs.

  “Sundara, you evil bitch,” I hissed under my breath.

  “This was the only dress she had and she took my clothes before I saw it. This isn’t for your benefit, trust me.” Evie lifted her chin, but some emotion I couldn’t define shadowed her eyes.

  “Hmm.”

  I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t find the words to explain my rising hunger. This didn’t feel like the curse she’d placed on me. This didn’t feel like bloodlust. This felt richer, sharper. Looking at her fed me, and yet, made me ravenous.

  I took up a stance beside her and slid my hands into my pockets.

  “Have you eaten?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  I chuckled at her protest. “An ascetic vampire. How cute.”

  She said nothing. I heard her swallow the saliva pooling in her mouth. She tried, and failed, not to stare at the monitor, which showed the vampires below us feeding with abandon. Her eyes wavered between the dilated human pupils, laughably small, and the inhuman blackness that consumed the irises of a vampire. Fighting. Always fighting.

  Give in, baby. Don’t fight it.

  Not an altruistic desire at all, but part of me, some part of me I didn’t recognize, wanted her to feel, just once, the freedom my kind knew.

  “I know you’re starving, Evie. I know you’re starving all over.”

  Again, she ignored me. This time I didn’t deny myself the pleasure. I lifted my hand from the cocoon of my pocket and swept her hair from her neck. The strands shimmered and moved like weighted silk, a different kind of beauty that made me fonder of her curls. I’d wrapped my hand around these curls so many times. I couldn’t wait to wrench her head against my shoulder while I fucked her.

  Evie didn’t move as I caressed her shoulder. She had nowhere to go, and no doubt Sundara told her she’d only be safe when hidden in this booth.

  But she could’ve jerked away. She could’ve behaved like a trapped animal and shrank from my touch.

  She didn’t, not even when my fingertips trailed her spine. Her nipples pebbled as she took a deep, uneven breath.

  I stepped into her space, the tinkle of jewels from her shaking body filling the air with every brush of my questing fingers. Her heels lifted her but I still dwarfed her smaller body. Her smaller, shivering body, weakened just by the sight of me and the lightest touch.

  “I can smell how hungry you are, Evie,” I whispered in her ear. My hair fell over my shoulder when I ducked my head to tease her with the truth. The strands grazed her shoulders, swept like a teasing hand against her breasts.

  The sweet musk of her pussy called to me.

  So wet now. So ready.

  “You can’t lie to me, baby. For a little while longer at least, we share one mind.”

  “I know,” she whispered. Her bitterness couldn’t hide her desire. Don’t play with me, Jesse. Please.

  “Then don’t lie. Are you hungry?” I repeated my question with a commanding edge to my voice. I ran a hand over the pebbled fabric covering her ass. The scrape of jewels contrasted the smooth scoops of her plump cheeks. The sensation fueled the fire raging in my veins.

  “Y-yes. I’m hungry. I’m s-starving.”

  I thought of the fire in the forest, and she did too, wondering if embers still glowed within us, ready to be relit if I slid my cock inside her again.

  “I hate you.” Her voice barely broke past her lips. She had to clamp her teeth shut when I caressed her collarbone with the other hand.

  I didn’t bother to say the truth, but I couldn’t halt the thought.

  You’re afraid you’re lying, just like you lied about your hunger.

  Hate was the only word that would do, the only word that could touch a connection not born of love, not born of family, or choice. Didn’t stop the need. Didn’t curb the ache.

  Our minds rubbed against potent memories of me feeding her my blood, of priming her for the relentless fucking to come. I bit my tongue, deep so the wound wouldn’t heal too fast, and darted in to lick her pink lips.

  She tilted her chin up and closed her eyes, whimpering. Now that she’d been turned, the blood I gave her wouldn’t be needed to fuck. I wouldn’t break her so easily. Now the blood became just a part of me that raised her temperature, a part she desired as my mate. She licked her lips, peered at me with kohl-rimmed eyes. The long fringe of her lashes fluttered as she reached for me. She seized the back of my neck with one hand and slid her tongue along my lips.

  Gripping her ass in both hands, I relished the bite of crystals against my palms, knowing the sharp facets also cut into her flesh. I rubbed her mound against my erection, cursing Sundara even as I blessed her. The pain and the friction of that fucking dress pricked me through the fabric of my suit pants, making me harder by the second.

  My head swam with her scent, sweet witch blood, the tang of my venom, and over that, life in bloom. She smelled of spices, of roses, of sunshine after a rainstorm. She smelled like something I wanted to pluck from the earth and keep close to me forever, like something I wanted to steal all over again.

  I dove into her senses and scented fresh air, freedom, my sweat. The saltiness of my come made her mouth water. The musk of my cologne and the clean scent of my hair filled her with want and fear. She breathed deep against my neck and exhaled honesty. The incense burning around us in subtle swirls held no power here. Inside the cocoon of our bond, nothing else penetrated. I bit her lip and she loosed a whine before ravaging my mouth with her tongue.

  The music began to thump harder, like our heartbeats. Like my insistent cock against her hard clit.

  I didn’t realize Vaughn had entered, until a growl sounded at the door. I turned to look at my brother, smiling as Evie attacked my throat with a sharp bite. My smile died on my lips when I discovered Vaughn hadn’t come alone.

  The queen, and her slave, were in tow.

  18

  I gave Vaughn the most withering look I could manage, while Evie writhed against my cock, but Vaughn’s eyes were glued to th
e bond witch.

  I could almost forgive him for being stupid with hunger looking at her. The wall sconces pulsed to signal the impending show. I pulled away from Evie and hauled Vaughn to me by the knot of his tie. The queen stared at Evie, then at me, her head tilted, tendrils from her intricate up-do swaying like a question mark.

  “Are you fucking stupid?” I whispered as low as I could so the queen couldn’t hear.

  “Look at her, man.”

  I thought at first Vaughn tried to explain away inviting the queen into the box. A duplicate key to the box dangled from Vaughn’s fingers, but his eyes were pinned on Evie.

  “Yeah, moron. Look at her. Up here. In a hidden room, so no one downstairs can see her!”

  Vaughn looked at me, blinked, then his eyes widened. “Oh, shit.”

  Furious words tangled in my throat, forming a knot that wouldn’t let me speak, while Vaughn stared over his shoulder. The slave kissed and nibbled her way from the queen’s calf up to her inner thigh. The queen stared at me intently before her eyes fluttered closed and she relaxed her head against the soft pillows on the chaise.

  I shifted my gaze to Evie, whose lips parted, while her avid eyes followed every motion when the slave lifted her mistress’s sheer skirts above her hips. Sparse black hair adorned pale skin and the slick, flushed pink below. The bond witch’s features twisted with hunger.

  Vaughn caressed his cock, looking between the two spectacles, my mate and the sighing queen, with raw yearning. “They’re not gonna be able to tell. Look at her.”

  I did look, and realized what he meant. To all the world, Evie would look like a vampire, a ravenous one. Red light washed over us, the music sounded like sex and a beating heart, like panting breaths with moans laced throughout. Like wet flesh and gulps of liquid desire.

  My cock scraped my pants, every touch like fiberglass on the sensitive throbbing skin. Pure torture, an itch that could only be washed away with slick heat.

  “I want you to beg me.”

  Sundara’s voice echoed from every speaker. Red silk swished across red silk with a sexy whisper as the curtains rose, from the bottom of the stage to the high ceiling. The stage decorations resembled an unfinished birdcage. Two thick black iron supports formed an arch.

  In the center of the stage stood Stark, naked and straining against captivity, his tan skin awash in milky blue backlights. If she’d pulled out all the stops for Evie, Sundara’d gone completely out of character by leaving the wolf unadorned for the show.

  Stark’s feet were tied to stakes on the floor, iron chains wound around his ankles. The same sturdy chain spread and suspended his arms, tautly securing them to the sturdy ceiling of Sundara’s cage. He wore the severe look of a man determined to disappoint and the raw energy of a predator.

  “Beg me, wolf.” Sundara’s voice slithered like a persuasive snake, the Garden of Eden revisited with every echo. The star of the show caressed his skin with black vinyl gloves drawn up to her biceps. The expensive sound system magnified her whisper against his ear. “Beg me to make you come.”

  “Go fuck yourself.” Stark’s voice rang in the silence despite the wolf’s quiet tone. This time the words drew laughter from the audience.

  “Show him who’s boss!” A man called.

  “Make me beg instead, Sundara!” A woman echoed him.

  Sundara smiled and stepped around Stark to meet her adoring public. The stage began a lazy spin. Lights glinted off her costume like stars.

  Her black hair had been slicked into a side part. Black crystals cupped the severe bun at the base of her head. Her breasts bore the same gems, stuck in strategic place so that her shoulders and back were left bare. She wore a thong underneath a short beaded belt, made of the same shimmering black stones. From the thighs down, her legs were encased in vinyl boots with six-inch heels.

  “Fuck me,” Vaughn breathed, eyes glued to Sundara on the monitor.

  The true born temptress on stage swayed her hips, sweeping her arms up the tanned curves revealed by her costume, until one arm lingered in the air. She grinned a predator’s grin. Snapped her fingers.

  The music drowned everything but our heartbeats.

  The queen motioned to Evie. “Come have a taste. My slave is delicious.” The queen’s pale hips pumped into the insistent mouth of the servant who knelt between her thighs.

  Even over the music I discerned the sound of fingers plunging into wet cunt. Between the enticing sound and Evie’s tentative step in their direction, my cock surged against my zipper. She invited Evie to feed with a curled forefinger. Evie knelt beside the collared witch, lifting her free wrist. My mate bit into the delicate flesh, her black eyes fluttering closed at the taste of not just any blood, but witch blood.

  The alternating strikes of twin whips drew my gaze to the screen. What’d been Sundara’s playful desire for Stark to beg her at the start of the show became a refrain laced over the same breathy music that played before the curtain rose. Sex in audio form, mingling with the red lights swaying over the stage.

  Whips bit Starks legs, from calves to the backs of his knees, to the straining tendons of his hamstrings. She struck him without mercy across the pale globes of his clenched ass. Breaking the skin, bleeding wolf and subjugation into the air. I only regretted I couldn’t be down there to inhale his defeat, to be splattered with his blood like those lucky true born in the front rows.

  Sundara sank to her knees behind him then, licking a bloody trail from one ankle up. The camera angles swept from close ups to long shots as she rose to Stark’s ass. She reached between his legs with one hand and gripped his soft cock in her black vinyl fist, her fingers slick with his blood.

  Sundara stroked in time with the music. The throbbing in my cock synchronized with their rhythm. Vaughn strode toward the queen, pulling off his suit jacket and tie as he went. He descended; his hands gripped the queen’s hair and her face as he claimed her mouth. The true born vampire whimpered against his lips and rode her slave’s ministrations while Evie suckled at a witch’s wrist.

  Stark’s breathing rose in my ears, punctuated by hisses of pain when Sundara sank her fangs into his ass and lower back. She lapped at the little wounds she’d made and the larger ones where her whips marred his skin. Her tongue teased the edges of his broken skin while she jerked him to readiness with his blood for lube.

  Beg me, beg me, beg me, beg me.

  The words were echoed within the beat, spliced with Stark’s heavy breathing. The wolf closed his eyes and thrashed his head. I wondered if he hated the sound of his own vulnerable voice played back for him.

  I can relate. I stole a glance at Evie, the man-eater who’d made a mess of me more times than I cared to admit.

  Sundara released his cock and crawled between his legs, her whips once again cradled daintily in her hands. She had all the grace and fearful symmetry of a jungle cat.

  My old friend knelt before Stark, her back to him, facing the audience, and licked her gloves the way a cat licks her paws, from elbow to clawed tip. I had to grin when she arched her limber spine until she stared upside down at Stark’s tightening balls.

  “Fuuuck.”

  The wolf groaned as Sundara tongued the fragile skin of his sack. The audience lost their minds to cheering when she lifted her hands, poised her whip handles with a flourish, and proceeded to whip Stark’s healing back with just the tips of her weapons. Stark cried out for the first time, caught somewhere between the tickle of pleasure and the dart-like pierces of pain. The star of the show paused only to tug his flushed cock down her throat. Upside down, she sucked the engorged head hard enough to make him rattle his bindings.

  The wolf’s grunts and stifled cries grew louder with each crack of the whip against his tensed flesh. But the hypnotic music absorbed his cries, blending them into the beat.

  Without thinking I met Evie’s stare as she pulled away from her feast. Her chest heaved. She shook her head but couldn’t help staring as Vaughn freed his cock from the confine
s of his zipper and fed the queen his entire length with a wail.

  The bond witch stood, as if in a trance, licking blood off her fingers, catching the remnants painting her mouth with an eager tongue. Vaughn met her eyes and grinned, not his malicious grin, but his aroused-to-the-point-of-combustion grin. Evie closed her eyes, spinning away from the familiar expression. She faced me and tracked the motion of my tongue as I slicked my lips. She hoisted her skirt with a dazed expression, and bared her sex to me.

  She sat gingerly on the circle of red leather already occupied to the right with two writhing vampires and a witch, and spread her legs for me. First only enough for me to see a shadow cast over my target. She started when I gripped her chin. Her tongue teased the pad of my thumb as I skimmed her bottom lip before pulling away. Sucking the blood lacing her flesh into my mouth, I gave her a winning smile, and a long caress of her body with my gaze.

  “You want me to taste the rest of you?”

  She averted her eyes, training them on the cock straining against my zipper. Slowly, she opened her smooth thighs wide in answer. The rock of her hips as she sought friction revealed her stiff clit begging for my attention.

  “I’m hungry,” she admitted. The words came out strangled, like her hold on the hem bedecked with crystals in her palms, like my heart in my throat as I leered at her willingness, her slick and ready willingness.

  I unbuttoned my suit jacket and fell to my knees. The heat of her thighs seared my palms when I gripped her flushed skin.

  Already she rocked, as if she could ride my heated exhale when I leaned closer to her sex.

  Beg me, beg me, beg me, beg me.

  I flattened my tongue, delivering a firm lick from the bottom of her glistening crease to the throbbing pebble crowning her pussy. Slowly, savoring not just the salt and the sweetness, but the intoxicating scent of her. I devoured her, lapping at her juices, the slickness of her swollen lips gleaming under the glittering rainbows cast by her dress. The press of her hand against my head spurred me on, like the desperate way she thrust her hips, trying to force me to lick faster, suck harder, ease her ache.