18

“Oh no. No. No.” Vivienne danced back from Heath, almost stepping upon the dropped dildo. Would he unleash his demon if he just put his cock inside her?

She had no idea how much he had to do. Just one thrust? Did he have to climax? In the demon world, what was making love considered to be? The attempt or the conclusion?

She couldn’t risk anything. If Heath even thought he had unleashed the curse and was going to become a dangerous demon, he would stake himself. She knew him well enough now to know he’d do it without hesitation.

Vivienne placed her hands over her quim, ready to fight him. But he turned, slowly stroking the remarkable length of his thick cock, and he strode to the wardrobe. When he returned, he held two more ivory toys, one in each hand.

She took several quick breaths of relief as she tried to take her next thought in stride. “One for me, one for you?”

He shook his head. “Both for you.”

“How?” But she could guess his answer before he said it.

“Trust me,” he said. “Now go over to the chaise. Position yourself on all fours upon it. Wait for me.”

Heath spoke in a dark, hot, commanding tone. She should have bristled; she’d never let a man order her about. That was the delight of becoming London’s most desired courtesan: it allowed her to make rules, set limits, take charge. But this time …

This time she wanted to surrender control.

She wanted to surrender everything to Heath. She was ready to claim what she’d always wanted.

A man with whom to share pleasure. A man all her own. A man who did not use gifts to buy her, contracts to control her, arrogance to subdue her.

Heath treated her as his partner. His equal. Not as a toy to be owned, played with, and discarded.

Her palms and knees sunk into the soft padding of the chaise. In this position, her bottom stuck up in the air, high, rounded, and naughtily exposed. Her full breasts hung down and bounced as she moved.

Footsteps sounded, whispering over the Aubusson carpet. “This will be warm.” Heath’s voice came from behind her. Something hot and wet splashed on her tailbone. At once the fluid ran down between the cheeks of her bottom.

His fingers delved in there, too, from below, and caught the droplets of fluid. Slowly, he massaged the warmth into her snug, closed anus. The puckered, sensitive entrance remembered his touch; it seemed to blossom open for him.

Gently, one of his fingers slid inside her, moistening her with the warm fluid, making her slippery. Readying her—that was what he was doing. Panting, waiting on a knife’s edge of arousal, she rocked back against his finger. He slowly thrust it in and out. Then, when his finger was deep inside her and she was gasping against the tingling, lovely sensations, he swirled his finger inside her in a sweep that made her cunny clench.

“If this hurts, tell me. I’ll stop.”

She braced herself, but he laid his hand on her back. “Relax. Try to enjoy.”

She wished she could see. But perhaps it was best if she couldn’t. At least the monstrous two-foot-long dildo still lay on the floor. That she could not take inside her bum.

Something stroked along her cheeks, then nudged its way between. A smooth tip pressed to her slick, well-greased anus. And the long, slender object pushed inside.

Oh! She clamped her cheeks together instinctively, to stop the invasion. She dared to half-turn. Over the arch of her spine, the spill of her hair, she saw Heath holding a long shaft of ivory, pointed at her bottom, and it disappeared from view between the twin globes of her cheeks. Slowly, he withdrew it.

She moaned. The sight of the tapered shaft in his hand was so enticing, she did want more. But she was too … shy to even whisper to him in her thoughts.

Yet he seemed to know. He pushed the large dildo again, and she took a deep breath. Trying to relax. To let more inside. Ooooh yes. It went in, and her tight ring felt a little pop as the carved head slid past.

She thrust back as he thrust forward, taking more in. Deeper and deeper. Inch by stunning inch. The pressure was amazing. The sensation startling, good—deliciously so.

Lightly, he fingered her clit as he gently eased more in, withdrew, then thrust again. “Your muscles are strong,” he advised her softly. “You’re fighting me. Just relax and breathe.”

He thrust deeper and she bowed her head. It felt so good. He gave a low, hoarse chuckle. “It looks so erotic … the shaft of ivory framed by your very voluptuous derriere.”

It felt erotic. She felt naughty and she waggled her bottom in front of him. Only with Heath would she have dared try this, and her reward was intense pleasure.

She felt so sexually exotic with her ass filled, her bottom all but sticking into his face. Then—shock of all shocks—he put his mouth to the end of the shaft. Using his teeth, he thrust it in and out of her. Her clit throbbed at the sight. Her nipples went hard as she watched and watched and grew more and more aroused.

His fingers slipped between the lips of her quim, and he stroked her slippery clit. Then, as she expected, the second dildo nosed between her cunny lips. As soon as he thrust the toy into her creamy quim, the shaft in her arse tried to come out. But he held it in his teeth, pushing it back in.

Her cries of delight echoed in the room. She was far too shy now for words. She was now completely stuffed. So wonderfully full.

And when he finished pushing both ivory wands deep inside her, he took a length of rope, looped it around the end of the dildo up her bum, and tied the ends of the cords around her thighs. This locked the thick shaft in place. She moaned fiercely. Her clit was throbbing intensely.

Yet for some reason, she didn’t want to come yet. She wanted the dizzying sensations to build and build.

The gewgaw in her quim was carved around its base, too, Which allowed Heath to tie a cord there and secure the second rope around her bare thighs. The trailing ends of the cords dangled against her sensitive skin.

She wriggled, but that brought her dangerously close to a climax.

Heath held out his hand. Even without words she knew what he wanted. For her to stand. She did, then she prowled to the mirror. Each step tugged the ivory wands deeper inside her. She could barely take steps. But finally, with her heart hammering toward an explosion, she reached the mirror. She bent over and heard Heath’s low growl as her bottom—and the fake cocks—pointed at him. She was so aroused, her knees shook.

She twisted to see what she looked like. Her throat dried as she saw the thick ivory toy sticking out of her rump, the one in her cunny, and the cords that bound her thighs.

Heath must have gone swiftly to the wardrobe and returned. Wearing a look of fierce anticipation, he held more of the carved dildos. She was nervous. But this was about trust, and it astonished her how easily she could now have faith in Heath.

He approached her and held one to her lips. A small one. Breathing hard, she opened her mouth and took it all inside. Let him tie the cord around its base, let him knot the cords together behind her head.

She was trapped, essentially gagged again, but with an ivory shaft to suck and lick.

Then, before her eyes, he did the most scandalous thing. He licked his fingers and wet the head of another curved cock. To see a masculine hand fondling it stole her breath. Her juices dribbled around the false penis filling her cunny. He held the dildo, braced against the back of the chaise, and he sat down hard on it. Her eyes widened as it disappeared up his tight rump in one swift motion.

Her heart hammered. Her chest felt tight.

He picked up a small glass vial and dribbled golden oil upon the tip of another toy, then motioned for her to turn around. She did but watched him walk toward her. It made her knees shake to know he, too, must feel the erotic pressure in his rump.

He lifted her hands so she gripped the frame of the mirror. Her position spread her legs, tightened the cords, and pushed her toys a little deeper inside her.

Oh heavens.

He took the other gewgaw, the one that glistened with oil, and pressed it gently against her rear. She arched up on her toes against the invasion. But he did it slowly. Carefully. Stopping when she tensed. Her rump was open, ready, receptive. And soon she was thrusting back to him. Wanting to be crammed full. To be stretched and pleasured beyond belief.

Her clit felt as though it was going to burst and it had not even been touched. The sensation was unbelievable. Dear heaven, she wasn’t going to last.

Then he took her hand and walked her around. He had to hold the toys crammed inside her bottom.

She gazed in the mirror, ready to explode, like a keg of gunpowder anxiously awaiting a sizzling fuse. The other ivory wand was bejeweled at its base. Rubies, diamonds, and emeralds winked at her.

Oh dear heaven, she couldn’t stand it. She bent over, pointing her rump at the mirror. She reached behind, clamping her hand around the toys. She thrust back fiercely and thrust them forward. With wild abandon, she masturbated her rear with the two slim cocks. While she sucked fiercely at the one filling her mouth. While she clutched her cunny around the cock buried deep inside.

And she came.

So hard, her legs collapsed and Heath caught her. Her bottom pulsed. Wave after powerful wave rocked her. She sucked madly at the cock in her mouth, and that made her come again.

Heath lifted her while she was still jerking with her orgasm. He cradled her against him and held her bottom, which stretched her, then put his hand against the base of all those ivory wands, making them thrust deep. She burst again.

She wrapped her heels around his hips, her arms around his neck. She gazed up at him, weak with pleasure, realizing he was staring at the cock held in her mouth by rope. His eyes flared with a silver gleam. His mouth was tense and harsh. He kept thrusting that thick bundle up her bottom. She struggled, strained, and managed to bump her heels against the toy in his derriere. He fiercely rubbed his cock against her belly. Sobbing in delight, she came once more.

She couldn’t count her climaxes anymore.

He sank to the floor. She collapsed beside him, lying on her back. Which only pushed everything up her bottom again. She bounced beside him, wild with pleasure now. How many times could she come? Another. Then another. Until she was too weak to move. But even just breathing lifted her slightly up and down on the dildos up her arse and made her come.

Her thighs were slick with her juices. Her nipples were scarlet and standing straight up.

Finally she gave one last fierce bounce, just for fun, and the explosion that took her was blinding.

Everything went black.

He’d never seen a woman drive herself to so many orgasms she lost consciousness. Heath grinned down at Vivi as she stirred, blinked her eyes, and focused on him.

“Goodness,” she whispered.

“Very good, I think.”

“I’ve never had anything like that before,” she whispered.

Pride swelled him—his heart and his cock. He had slid the toys out from her and bundled them in a basin to be washed, along with the one he’d used to stimulate himself. But he hadn’t come yet. His cock curved up toward his navel, rigid and so engorged it was almost purple.

Vivi slowly sat up on her haunches. Her full breasts fell in two enticing slopes and her mature nipples had grown long and firm. He savored the sight of her.

Soft firelight flickered over her face, playing along her pursed lips. She watched him, her gaze intensely thoughtful. Her tongue ran over her lower lip as she did. His cock jolted up as he followed the sensual path of her little pink tongue.

“What is it?” He managed to get the words through a tight throat.

“I want to give you pleasure, but I’m afraid of hurting you by doing it.”

“Ah, love, you don’t have to.” He gave her a teasing grin, wrapping his hand around his throbbing shaft. It was thicker than it had ever been in his life—both his mortal life and his undead one. “I am content to tend to it myself.”

It was how he’d been surviving his lust. Thrusting into his own palm brought him temporary relief, so he’d done it several times every night. But after he came, when he’d finished jerking with the intense pleasure of his climax, when he’d finished shooting his scalding cum onto his hand, he would fall back onto his bed and think of Vivi. And all he had to do was let a whisper of her tease the edges of his mind, and he was rock hard again.

“My mouth,” she whispered. “Can my mouth turn you into a demon?”

Hell. “No, it can’t,” he lied, surprised at how easily he could. If it did, he’d destroy himself. He couldn’t say no to this.

Suddenly her hand was around his shaft, too. Her fingers were far softer, but gripped firmly. “I do not know if I can bring you to climax with my mouth.”

Yes, you can. Just listening to you talk with your mouth is bringing me close.

“Experienced men are difficult to bring to climax. I’ve never been able to …” She ducked her head shyly. “This is something I’m not very good at.”

He understood she was making an admission. She was vulnerable and unsure. “Skill in that area is overrated. Just your hot mouth will drive me wild.”

“But you will want to be satisfied. I don’t want you to be … disappointed.”

“Disappointed? Christ, I could never be disappointed with you. Never. And what we should do, Vivi, is return to either my bedroom or yours.”

He scooped her up and carried her back to her bedchamber, with his cock wobbling in front of him like a jousting lance. But he suspected Dimitri would interrupt them if he didn’t. And he damn well refused to be bothered if Vivi planned to pleasure him with her mouth.

Could having her suck him change him? He didn’t know. Soon he was going to find out.

This might be his very last orgasm.

“All right, lie down on my bed,” Vivienne commanded. “Now it is your turn to take orders from me.”

Of course he laughed, obviously assuming she was teasing. But Heath spread out naked on her bed. And Vivienne lost her breath at how sensual his well-muscled nude body looked on her dainty, embroidered counterpane.

He looked so … boyishly hopeful.

She gathered courage, took a deep breath, and leaned down and kissed the purplish-bronze head of his long cock. At her touch, silvery fluid bubbled out of the little opening at the tip. She licked it up. It teased her tongue, surprisingly sweet and sour at the same time. She brushed the little eye along her lips. The touch of taut velvet made them tingle. His flowing juices left them sticky and glistening. Then slowly, watching his silver eyes, she licked her lips.

His powerful chest rose on a deep, sharp breath.

He liked this.

So far, so good.

She kissed the tip again. A playful buss to the velvety head. Then, with lashes lowered, she opened her mouth wide and gobbled him up.

Her lips slid over the steel and softness of his shaft. Her tongue tasted him—salty, sour, earthy. He moaned deeply. Harder than she had ever heard a man moan before. From beneath his thick fringe of lashes, Heath watched her with adorable, lusty, awed eyes.

She ran her tongue around his astonishingly thick shaft, tasting dewy sweat, the tartness of his juices, the sweetness of his skin. Then suckled.

His lean hips made a sudden jolt upward on her bed, and his cock surged deep into her mouth. At first she was stunned, then she saw he was beyond control. His hands fisted, his arms tensed, his eyes shut tight. And he roared at the exact instant a rush of hot fluid burst into her mouth.

Heavens.

She’d thought he would be far too experienced for her to please him so easily. Yet he’d exploded at just the touch of her mouth around him.

Inside, she felt rather smug. Warm. Glowing. Delighted.

Suddenly, he flipped her onto her back. “Your turn,” he whispered.

Hours later, Vivienne lay sprawled over Heath’s naked body. His left hand rested on her bottom, cupping the plump curve. The quiet intimacy left her breathless.

Or perhaps she was still breathless after the three more orgasms she’d had since returning to her bedchamber.

Her cheek pressed against the silky hair that covered Heath’s chest, and she’d never felt safer, more secure, more wonderful in her life. She ran her tongue over her lips and tasted his cum on their swollen contours—tangy, a little sour, and richer than sweet cream. He had grown hard each time he brought her to climax. Then she would suck him, and each time he came just as quickly, just as readily when her mouth closed around him.

It truly had astonished her. She had felt saucy and victorious making him come so much and so hard. She felt … strong and invincible. Like she could spread her arms wide and fly like Heath, if she wanted to.

Of course she couldn’t. But exhilaration was a heady thing.

He stirred beneath her. “Now, Vivi, I think it is time to bathe you.”

She sighed with languorous exhaustion. She didn’t want to move. “Bathe?” she repeated groggily.

“Indeed. I will summon some of the maids to tend to you.” He lifted her, eased her onto her back, and got out of bed.

Intimacy was done for tonight. Her disappointment must have been plain on her face.

He gave a cool shrug. One that hurt deeply. How could he change so swiftly? Go from a man who wanted to hold her to one who looked like he wanted to run?

“Sorry, love. I have to go,” he said. “You should be able to last through the night now.”

Go? Then she knew exactly what he planned to do. “You are going to go after my father, aren’t you?” She sat up, still a little dizzy from lovemaking. As he got off her bed, she followed, unsteadily after all that pleasure.

“Get back into bed,” he commanded.

“No!” she cried. “My father almost killed you.” She needed practical clothes to go out with him. A serviceable gown, which would not take too long to fasten.

“You are not coming with me.”

Halfway to the large wardrobe, she stopped and jerked around. “I thought you couldn’t read my mind.”

“It’s obvious what you’re planning in that lovely head of yours. Why else would you be stalking toward your clothes? You want to come with me to help me.” Green eyes flared at her. He crossed his arms over his naked chest. “I’m not going to permit it. You must stay here.”

“Why?” She planted her hands on her hips. “Do you not see how dangerous this—?”

At once, he moved to stand in front of her. At over six feet tall, he towered above her. Instinctively, she froze. He looked so aggressive. So unlike Heath.

He grasped her arms. Hard. “What are you doing?”

“I am not going to let you put yourself in danger.”

She tried to break free, but he only clutched harder. Enough to make her whimper with pain. He was so strong, and he wanted his own way, and she suddenly realized she didn’t know what he would be willing to do to get it. A spike of fear shot through her heart.

“Listen to me, Vivi,” he growled. Fury crackled in his eyes, like lightning forking in front of dark emerald trees. He was different from every other man she’d known—except when he wanted his own way. Then he took on the hard, arrogant look she recognized.

“Release me,” she hissed. But he didn’t.

“You have to understand, Vivi.” His voice was low, soft, like a whisper on a sultry night. He was trying to get into her mind and force her that way.

“Your father knows my brother is the same kind of demon I am. For whatever your father is planning, he needs to set the curse free. He’ll do it to Raine.”

“I know,” she cried. “That was why he was willing to kill you. To use your brother instead.”

“I have to rescue my brother against his will. Drag him from Nikolai. That’s why I need you to stay here. I’m going to have to fight Raine and … hell, I can’t destroy him, if it comes to that.”

“Then you need me to protect you,” she declared fiercely. “Now let me go.” To her surprise, he did. She whirled and ran to her wardrobe. Unlike most of the cupboards in this house, it actually contained clothing. “It is not your fault your brother turned to Nikolai. If he was willing to be my father’s tool, knowing what he will become if the curse is released, that means he is cruel and foolish. I’m not going to let you die because you refuse to raise a hand against your brother.”

She yanked open the doors. A row of gowns faced her, along with three items she’d never seen before. Dimitri must have sent them. She pulled out a pair of tan breeches. This was brilliant, far better than a dress. Hastily she stepped into them.

“I’m not just going to let myself get killed,” he growled.

“I’m afraid you will,” she said. “You think you deserve to pay with your life.” There was also a white linen shirt, and she dragged it over her head. As she shoved the tails into the skintight breeches, Heath’s brows shot up. Her full breasts strained at the fabric—the shirt had been designed for a slender, young male. The white linen revealed the dark circles of each areola, and her hardened nipples poked the material forward.

“Well, it is not as though I’m trying to disguise the fact I’m female. These clothes are just better for a battle.” A dark blue tailcoat hung in the wardrobe. At least that would cover her nipples.

“Breeches and an almost transparent shirt are appropriate fashion for battling powerful vampires who would destroy us both?” He had crossed his arms over his bare chest again, glowering like the devil himself.

Her heart ached. All the lovely pleasure of the night was lost. They were combatants now.

“I will go,” she said flatly. “Either with you, or I shall follow you.”

He tore his hands through his hair. But she had pulled on tall, black leather boots. “I must tell Sarah that I am going with you,” she stated. She wouldn’t fight with him anymore. She was going to do exactly as she wished, and he could be damned. He intended to save Raine whether the lad wanted it or not? She would do the same for him. She stalked to the door. “You should stop lallygagging about and get dressed, Heath.”

“Good bloody Christ,” he shouted.

She shut the door. She had reached Sarah’s room when Heath appeared at her side. He had dressed in the few moments it had taken her to reach Sarah’s room, then raced at vampiric speed to reach her side.

Sarah’s door opened and a surprised maid stood on the threshold. “Oh! Miss Dare. Your lordship. Miss Sarah isn’t here. She went to the music room. With Lord Julian.”

Heath’s brows jerked up in shock. “Julian? Julian is listening to a young lady play music?” His anger vanished. Now he looked highly suspicious—and guilty—as he rubbed his chin.

What did he know about Julian that was making him look as though he’d done something wrong? Vivienne’s heart started to pound. “Perhaps he is pretending to like music, as part of his seduction.” She spun on her heel. “If that’s his plan, he is going to regret it very quickly.”

Soft, melodic harp music rippled out through the slightly open door of the music room—a room Vivienne had not been in before. Then the music ceased and she heard a woman’s soft voice. “I like kissing you. I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

Vivienne halted. The voice sounded so much like Sarah. But much more … sultry.

“I want to be the first man to kiss you,” came a gentleman’s hoarse, desire-filled answer. “And I want to be the last. I want you to be mine, Sarah. Forever.”

Vivienne let out a small scream, but Heath reached the door before she did and threw it open. It banged into the wall with enough force to rock the entire hallway and send plaster flying.

Her heart slammed into her throat. She tried to take in every detail, tried not to panic. Sarah was kissing Julian. Dressed in a deep pink gown that made her skin glow like pearl and her hair shine like the sun, her daughter had her arms wrapped around his neck and her lips pressed hard to his. He had no shirt on.

“Stop!” Vivienne shouted. “Touch her mouth and I’ll geld you, vampire or no!”

But again, Heath reacted far faster than she could. He appeared behind Julian, clamped his hand on the young man’s shoulder, and dragged him away from Sarah.

Sarah stalked forward. She blushed a brighter pink than her dress. “Mother! How could you?”

Fear and shock and more fear tumbled about inside Vivienne’s chest. If she had been a moment later, what would Julian have done? “How could I what?” She sounded like a terrified harridan. “How could I protect you? I am not about to stand by and let you be seduced by a lusty, despicable vampire.” And she saw Heath wince.

“He’s not seducing me. He was kissing me.”

“This house is no place for you to be wandering around. There are things going on here that you should not see.”

Sarah put her hands on her hips. “For heaven’s sake, Mother. I know about sex. That doesn’t mean I am going to engage in it.”

Sex. The word almost strangled Vivienne’s breath from her chest. She blushed more fiercely than her daughter. She hadn’t wanted Sarah to even know about sex. She’d wanted Sarah to be innocent forever.

“Julian will expect more than a kiss,” she said flatly.

“I don’t,” Julian erupted. He tried to break free of Heath’s hold, but he didn’t succeed. “I intend to court Miss Dare. As a gentleman should.”

“Mother, this is ridiculous. I know what you’ve been doing. I know you are having an … an affair with Lord Blackmoor and I am happy for you. All I wanted was one kiss! Julian knew that.”

“Sarah,” Heath said softly. “Vivi is only trying to protect you.”

“And Julian is half dressed. If he only wanted a kiss, why would he take off his shirt?” Vivienne demanded. Sarah was only eighteen. And naive, for all her bold words. “The point is, Sarah, he is a vampire. And you are not. There can never be any romance between you. And this house is a den of … sin.”

“Mother.” Sarah’s laugh rang into the room. “It’s not evil. Or bad. It’s just sex and pleasure. These people are all happy. That’s what I want to know about. Passion … and love.”

“You can learn all about passion when you are married.” She sounded foolishly prim. But she could not help it. “That is what I want for you. What I could never have. A good marriage, a good husband—security, position, happiness.”

A terrifyingly wise look came into Sarah’s blue-green eyes. “Mother, who am I going to marry? No matter how well behaved I am, I will always be a courtesan’s daughter.”

Vivienne’s heart broke. It simply shattered. Sarah had gone through the agony of learning about her father. And now she’d heard Sarah say the words she’d always feared. Sarah knew her mother had ruined her life before she’d even been born.

Then Heath stalked toward the door. “Julian,” he said coldly. “I wish to speak to you.”

And Vivienne saw the role Heath had taken on: that of irate father.