Blood and Bondage Read online

  The tires of the Range Rover squealed as it quickly accelerated away from the curb. “Hey, boss. While you were upstairs dealing with the girl, I got a call from Ronan. He was able to run the plates on the blue sedan,” he said as he peered out the side mirrors as if looking for that same pesky vehicle. “We’ve also got some intel from our European division on Gaucher. It’s not much, but the report’s waiting for you on your desk.”

  Oliver nodded, keeping his attention fixed on Anaïs. She had her arms folded across the front. Her heaving breasts and the sexy pout of her lips called to him from the adjacent seat.

  Stop looking at me like I’m a piece of meat, the temptress shouted to Oliver from inside her head. Of course, he knew she wanted him to hear every word. He smiled, and then reached out to tease a loose tendril of her red hair.

  My how the tables have been turned, Oliver thought to himself. Too bad she couldn’t hear what he’d said.

  Chapter Nine

  Total Submission

  During the forty-five minute car ride from the nightclub to BPA headquarters, Anaïs let her temper stew. She’d wasted time kicking and screaming like a spoiled rotten child until she’d nearly turned blue in the face. However, in the end, she realized it hadn’t done much good. Oliver remained as stubborn and strong willed as ever.

  “Get out of the car,” he said; the curt, authoritarian sound of his voice left no room for negotiation.

  Anaïs bit her tongue, making every attempt to quell her anger and keep her trap wired shut. Then she climbed dutifully out of the back seat. She hadn’t been able to see much of the terrain due to the Range Rover’s dark, tinted windows. But once in the open air, the captivating surroundings left her in awe and served as a momentary reprieve from her inner rage. The light from the moon’s rays illuminated the classic Victorian-style home where Oliver and most of his team worked and lived. It was a stunning sight. The hundred year old residence looked pristine, kept in its original nineteenth century condition by what appeared to be a skilled craftsman familiar with every facet of the painstaking restoration process.

  The wood siding on the house had been meticulously shaped into semi-circles, then hand-painted with a pale shade of grey. There was a large wrap-around porch and pearly white plantation shutters perfect for keeping cool during the warm summer months. The picturesque estate was lined by rows of cherry blossom trees and rolling green hills that reminded Anaïs of the French countryside. Without a doubt, the person responsible for the upkeep of the property possessed impeccable taste and spent countless hours making sure it was well-maintained.

  “Adam, get her upstairs into the guest room next to mine. And make sure she stays restrained.” Oliver strode into the house. He shoved open a door tucked underneath the stairwell, and locked himself inside.

  As soon as Anaïs had been escorted into the room and properly restrained, she kicked off her high-heeled boots and flopped on the large four-poster bed in the middle of the room. It seemed like hours before Oliver even bothered to check on her. She’d been waiting a long time and wanted to get up and walk a bit. Unfortunately, the handcuff that tethered one hand to the headboard didn’t allow for much freedom of movement. Her only consolation was the view afforded by the large picture window a few feet from the bed.

  The curtains were drawn and Anaïs could see the billowy clouds move past the window, revealing a sky filled with bright, bountiful stars. The night was peaceful and quiet, the only sound the hoot of an owl perched in a tree nearby.

  Lost in the scenic tranquility, she didn’t notice that Oliver had entered the room. He stood in the doorway, watching. The intensity of his stare burned through Anaïs, making her skin sizzle. The energy between them was electric, as always. Finally alone with the man she’d been fantasizing about for days, she could feel the waves of desire rolling in, a high tide of covetous need crashing over them both.

  “Hey there. You doing okay?” Oliver asked, breaking the silence.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” Anaïs turned her gaze toward the window once again. “This place. It’s beautiful.”

  “I think so too.” Oliver walked to the edge of the bed, his steps slow and deliberate. “It’s a labor of love. But my father was a carpenter and he taught me a lot of the tricks of the trade.”

  “You did all this?” Anaïs asked, a smile lit up the corners of her mouth. Oliver nodded his head, then looked away as if bashful. “Wow! I’m impressed.” The BPA’s counsel general was full of surprises and she yeaned to uncover more.

  Oliver scooted closer, the top of his hand grazing the bare skin on the underside of her thigh. With the other hand, he rubbed the muscles on the back of his neck. “Enough about me. Let’s talk about you. Tell me how you met Gaucher.”

  Anaïs rolled her eyes, annoyed at the seamless way he’d been able to divert the conversation. In fact, talking was the last thing on her mind. With the heat of his body next to her, she felt compelled to reach out and twiddle her fingers in the dark, curly hairs that peeked out from his half-buttoned shirt. The poor guy had been hard at work all night, scouring over documents pertinent to the investigation. He hadn’t even had time to change into more comfortable clothes.

  “Let’s make a deal. First, we’ll play. Then, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

  Oliver snatched up the hand that dawdled on his chest. His firm grip dug into the tender skin of her wrist. He leaned in, and the scent of musk and masculinity wafted past her nose. Underneath it, the irresistible lure of his blood called to her. Anaïs could hear the trickle of liquid swish through his veins. More than anything, she wanted to suckle his neck and savor its flavor. But Oliver held tight, letting her know that he planned to set the pace. At least, for tonight.

  “I’ll take you up on that offer. But only on one condition,” Oliver said, his attention focused on the swell of her breasts. They rose and fell with each inhale and exhale of her breath.

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m in charge. You’ll do exactly as I say.” The rumble of his voice as he uttered the sultry demand reverberated through her, sending shivers down her spine. “Now stand up and remove your clothes. I want to see you. All of you.”

  Unable to speak, Anaïs did what her lover asked. Due to the handcuff on her right wrist, she couldn’t pull her clothing over her head. She unzipped her leather skirt and lowered it past her thighs. Then, she slid the matching halter top down until the slinky black material fell to the floor. The wind from the open window whipped around the room, and made both of her nipples stiffen into tight, aching peaks.

  For a brief moment, Oliver stared, his blue eyes memorizing the shape and contour of her subtle curves. He paid particular attention to her small, round breasts.

  “Turn around,” he said, making circles in the air with his index finger until she obliged. Then from the corner of her eye, she watched him open the top drawer of the night stand by the bed, and pull out an object. It had a wooden handle that connected to nine long strips of thick braided leather. At the end of each one, a red silk rose was woven into the hide.

  “What is that?” Anaïs felt the soft petals trace along the curvature of her spine, making her sensitive skin quiver at the touch.

  “It’s a flogger. I picked it up the other day. Just for you.”

  “For me?” she asked as a surge of excitement shot through her.

  “Mmm hmm.”

  Oliver stepped closer. His rock-hard abs pressed against the hollow of her back. Then he wrapped his arm around her waist and traced the ends of each graceful, swirling strap along the ridge of her narrow hip. Hot breath skimmed over her, which forced Anaïs to groan out loud. The overload of sensation caused her pussy to clench too. She shifted her weight, letting her body sag against Oliver. No use in fighting it any longer.

  All of a sudden Oliver raised the flogger over his head. In a split second, he lowered it back down, snapping the smooth leather tails against the inside of her thigh. The thorns on the petals marked her f
lesh with tiny red imprints. Anaïs winced, then moaned as pain and pleasure eviscerated her control.

  Without warning, her incisors emerged. Her fingernails unfurled, clawing the rich mahogany wood of the headboard, both of which were instinctual reactions triggered by her lover’s overzealous play. She wanted Oliver. Badly. But the compromising position he’d placed her in had inadvertently unleashed the beast within.

  “How do I know I can trust you?” Anaïs asked, arching away from him as juices from her pussy drizzled down her leg. The rich, floral scent of her sex permeated the room. Her body was certainly primed. However, before she could fully submit, she had to hear his reply. He’d already stolen her soul; the least he could do was leave her dignity intact.

  “Isn’t it I who should be afraid? After all, you’re the vampire.” A sly smile appeared on Oliver’s devilishly handsome features. At the same time, he snapped the cat o’ nine tails briskly across her ass cheek, the one with the wildflower tattoo that he’d been ogling earlier. “But if it makes you feel any better, we can use a safe word. That way, if things get too tantric for your taste, we can stop.”

  “Good idea.” Lifting one knee onto the mattress, Anaïs spread her thighs. That way, Oliver could see all she had to offer. “You seem fascinated with my body art. Perhaps ‘wildflower’ would do as a safe word.”

  “Per. Fect.” Oliver growled the two syllables as he stroked his cock through his trousers. Then, he reached out to swipe his palm over the puddle of liquid that had pooled behind her knee. He lifted the hand to his mouth, and sampled her feminine flavor.

  “Mmm. You’re definitely ready to play.”

  Lubricated with a mix of sex and saliva, Oliver’s digits delved between her legs, and fondled the nub of her throbbing clit. The friction from the rubbing set her desire aflame. Just when she’d felt the crest of an orgasm hit, he pressed two fingers inside and began to thrust. Cum flowed from her pussy. The inclined angle of his hand caused the liquid to snake up his arm like an unruly vine.

  At the same time, Oliver smacked her backside with the tails of the flogger again. Anaïs bucked off the edge of the bed. Her womb clamped down on his fingers as she screamed his name in her head.

  Oliver. Please. Don’t. Stop.

  “Don’t worry, baby. We’re just getting started.” Oliver moved toward the end of the bed. He turned his lover in his arms and nudged her to her knees onto the floor.

  “What do you want me to do?” Anaïs asked, her face hovering above his navel. She could see the firm bulge of his shaft throbbing like mad within his pants.

  “Undo my belt and take hold of my cock.”

  Suddenly, Anaïs’s mouth went dry. She licked her lips, yanked on his buckle, and watched his linen trousers sink to his ankles.

  OMG! This guy’s huge.

  Anaïs’s tongue jutted out to probe the head of his erection, but he jerked back and stole the prize. She needed to taste him, but because of those pesky handcuffs, it was hard to move. With her free hand flat against the corded muscles of his stomach, she gently pressed him back toward the mattress. However, he grumbled his disapproval, refusing to let his impenetrable body be swayed.

  “Please. I’m dying for a taste. But these restraints make it rather difficult. Would it be too much to ask you to take them off?” Anaïs asked as she batted her eyelashes and wrapped her thumb and forefinger around the girth of his sex. She squeezed the base, then stroked up and down, eliciting her lover’s guttural groan.

  Oliver sighed, rolling his eyes as if sarcastic. “Nice try. But that’s never going to happen.” Then he sat down, giving her easier access to his crotch.

  Anaïs slid the tip into her mouth. Inch by inch, she lowered herself onto Oliver’s cock. He was long and thick, perfect in every proportion. With his entire length between his lips, she moaned, letting his impressive shaft massage the back of her throat. The sharp edge of her canines grazed his sensitive skin, as she bobbed her head up and down to suck him like a luscious cherry lollipop.

  “Oh fuck! Not yet. I’m not ready to come.” Oliver grabbed a handful of her red locks, and wrenched her off his cock. Anaïs whimpered softly. She felt bereft, like a baby whose candy had been torn from her pouty, puckered lips. “Get on all fours and crawl to the center of the mattress.”

  Oliver climbed behind her onto the bed, kicking off his pants to keep from falling over. He used his knees to spread Anaïs wide. Then his talented hands settled on her buttocks, separating the twin mounds with a quick flick of the wrist. Before she knew what hit her, Oliver’s nose was buried between her ass cheeks. His tongue darted out, making sensual circles around the rim of her anus. She loved the warm, wet sensation against her perineum. Then he used his mouth to fuck her rear, propelling in and out. His hands kept busy too. Soon, they each found their own special spot. The right one pinched her nipple, while the other flicked her pulsating clitoris before moving lower to pummel her pussy. Anaïs wiggled and writhed under Oliver’s masterful touch. She was so close. A massive orgasm threatened to explode.

  The moment her climax hit, Oliver wrenched her body up flush against his sweaty torso. He captured her screams of pleasure with a searing, soulful kiss that robbed her of every last ounce of strength. Anaïs collapsed on the bed and Oliver toppled over too. Their breathing so deep and desperate, she thought she might hyperventilate.

  Oliver raised his head, and traced the ridge of her spine with his tongue. Once he’d reached her tailbone, he turned Anaïs over onto her back. She was so weak that she couldn’t even open her eyes.

  Oliver must have sensed the dire nature of her pale, listless body. The truth of the matter was she hadn’t had much sustenance to speak of in the last week. In fact, the only blood she’d sampled had come from him. Oliver lifted Anaïs’s hand and kissed it before he used one of her long, deadly claws to cut a tear in the flesh of his pec. Then, he cushioned the back of her head in his hands and forced her to drink from the bloody wound on his chest. Hot and heady, his alluring flavor slid down her throat. However, she was so spent that she could only take a few short sips.

  “Get some rest, my sweet little sub. When you wake up, we’ll finish where we left off.”

  Chapter Ten

  Confessions

  Oliver woke suddenly. The sound of someone banging on the door of his suite jostled him from his sleep. He pried open one eye and took note of the dark sky and rustling trees outside his window. The clock to his left read a quarter til six, however the sun had still not risen.

  “Wake up, man. Something’s up.” Adam’s voice projected through the thick walls of the room. Oliver turned over onto his back, feeling the coolness of the empty pillow next to him. For a moment, he’d forgotten that he left Anaïs resting peacefully in the bedroom adjacent to his, one hand still chained to the headboard. Tussling with sheets trapped around his ankles, he climbed out of bed and walked toward the door.

  “What’s the problem? Is it the vamp?” Oliver asked as he yanked on the doorknob. He was naked, other than the bedding fettered at the hips. Adam shot him a knowing glance. While he’d slept alone in his bed, the scent of a woman’s juices nonetheless clung to him. It didn’t help that he’d answered the door without a stitch of clothing.

  “No, she’s fine. Still knocked out from what I can tell.” Adam’s breath smelled of stagnant coffee. His hair looked disheveled. From what Oliver gathered, he hadn’t slept all night. It was no surprise. Adam often stayed up way past dawn, analyzing forensic data in the lab located in the basement. “But the alarm’s been disarmed. Someone might have gained access to the house.”

  Shit! Oliver slid on a pair of snug-fitting jeans. It had to be Pierre. He should have known that arrogant bastard wouldn’t be afraid of sneaking into a lion’s den. Before checking on Anaïs the night before, Oliver had read through the intel he’d received on Anaïs’s former lover. Other than a few run-ins with law enforcement for drunk and disorderly conduct, he showed up as nothing more than a tiny blip on BPA’s
radar. He was a well-to-do bloodsucker with a proclivity for wine and women, but the rest remained a mystery. Coupled with the fact that the trace they’d put on the blue sedan turned out to be a dead end, Oliver was desperate for answers, the kind that only one person could give.

  He shoved open the adjoining door that led to Anaïs’s suite. She was sound asleep, her serene expression proof that she’d been well loved the night before. While technically they hadn’t had intercourse, the female vampire had writhed and moaned in his arms. From what he could tell, he’d gifted her with at least two mind-blowing orgasms. Oliver wasn’t quite sure what had come over him. Anaïs brought out his wild, reckless side. On top of that, the vixen gave one hell of a blowjob too.

  Oliver placed a hand to Anaïs’s shoulder and jolted her from slumber. Her mouth turned up at the corners as a satisfied grin spread across her face. She stretched her long, agile limbs like a content jungle cat. The slits of her amber eyes shone bright against the fading moonlight.

  Lord have mercy! She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

  “Morning,” Anaïs said as she reached out to caress his bare chest. “Ready for another quickie before the sun comes up?”

  “Sorry, that’ll have to wait.” For the first time, Oliver’s glance turned away from his lover’s face. On the end table next to the bed, the flogger he’d used to tease Anaïs dangled over one side. But it was what lay underneath, that set Oliver’s nerves on edge.

  Another photograph. Oliver didn’t pay much attention to the image of the girl on the front; he knew it’d be much of the same. Instead, he concentrated on the caption.

  Be forewarned. Familiarity breeds contempt.

  P.G.