Crimson Veil

Chapter 8

Vishana was a striking woman—well, all dragons were striking when in their human form. But that was simply an illusion. The dragon behind the human form seeped through. Seven feet tall in human form, Vishana was pale to the point of being an ice sheet in the frozen north. Her eyes were the color of gunmetal, and her hair flowed down past her ass, silver with a sheen of blue sparkling through. Her tresses—like Smoky’s—writhed on their own, shifting as if with her moods. She was wearing a long white dress, elegant with silver embroidery, and a cloak as blue as the early dawn.

As Smoky’s mother settled back into the recliner, Lash looked up from her position on the floor. Vishana gazed down at her.

“We don’t often meet our shadowy kin, be they half- or full-blood. I knew that one of Camille’s sisters was engaged to half-blood black dragon. I assume you”—here she nodded at Shade—“are the gentleman in question?”

Shade laughed. “If gentleman be the correct word to describe me.” He gave her a short, but respectful, bow. “Lady Vishana, be welcome. May I present my sister, Lash? She is visiting with us for a while. She came—”

“I assume she came to get to know her future sister-in-law? For if I were your mother, I would send in a spy to scope out who was going to be marrying my son.” She flashed a brilliant grin at both dragons. “In fact, I did this, although Iampaatar did not know.”

Smoky started to protest but Vishana held up her hand. “Quiet. It is long past and you do not need to know all my secrets.” She turned to Lash. “As for you, girl. Stand. I am not the Empress, and while I am above your station, I am not one who demands supplication.”

And with those words, I began to get a clearer picture of the hierarchy of the dragon world. Camille didn’t talk much about it, and Smoky seldom mentioned his home, not surprising given what his father had done to Camille. But Vishana, she was elegance embodied in form, and now I saw that while she definitely was dragon through and through, she was also gracious.

Lash stood, smoothing the front of her gown. She hesitantly raised her head to look at Vishana. “Thank you.”

“Are you clutchmates with your brother?”

Lash shook her head. “No, I was in the second clutch. We are part Stradolan, so the clutches were small.”

Vishana nodded. “The shadow walkers are the only species who can interbreed with black dragons, so yes, I know of your other heritage. Which side holds more sway with you?”

Delilah shifted, and her gaze latched on to the interaction. I realized that she knew very little about her lover’s heritage. Dragons were cagey, even with their mates. Had she known anything we were hearing now, Camille and I would have already been privy to the information.

Lash swallowed, glancing at Shade. He nodded for her to answer.

“Unlike my brother, who followed more in the footsteps of our mother, I identify with the shadow walker part of myself. I work with my father. I’ve trained with him since I was little.”

Delilah glanced at Shade, then interrupted. “What does your father do?”

Lash tilted her head. “Hasn’t my brother told you? Our father is a judge. He sits on the Jury of the Damned.”

Camille and Delilah stared at her. I was right there with them.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Camille’s voice cut through the silence with a resounding trill.

“I’d like to know that myself.” Delilah stood and moved toward Shade. “You’ve never told me anything about your family.”

“Dragons are tight-lipped, my dear werecat.” Vishana leaned forward, leisurely resting her elbow on the arm of the recliner, and her chin on her hand. “I doubt if Iampaatar has told Camille as much as he perhaps should have.”

Lash looked crestfallen. “I didn’t realize…”

“This is not a problem.” Shade let out a sigh. “The only reason I haven’t said anything, Lash, is that I hate what Father does. You know this.”

Lash let out an exasperated sigh. “This again? Are you going to forever carry a grudge against him because of what he chooses to do?”

“What he does is what he is.” Shade’s normally tranquil expression took a leap south and he turned away. “Delilah, I think we have rounds to make on the property. Lady Vishana, Honorable Wing Liege, please grant me leave?”

Vishana stared at him thoughtfully, then nodded. “You are excused.”

Shade practically dragged Delilah out of the room. Lash watched them go, then turned back to us, flustered.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to air any family laundry.”

“What’s the Jury of the Damned?” I got tired of standing and took a seat on one of the ottomans, crossing my legs.

“Why don’t you enlighten the girls?” Vishana looked as though she might be enjoying this little tiff. I wondered about her for a moment. But then again—she was dragon and that right there was explanation enough.

Lash looked like she wished she’d never opened up this can of worms, but it was too late to put the lid back on.

“The Jury of the Damned is a court in the Netherworld, where the restless spirits are judged and dealt with. The angry ghosts are taken to the Ocean of Anger and linked to it in ritual. This keeps their residual anger from spilling over into the rest of the Netherworld. The mourning ghosts are assigned a wailing spot. And so forth. Father sits on the jury as the lead Elder.” She shifted uncomfortably.

“Do the spirits have to obey the Jury?” I had a feeling she wasn’t being totally up front with us.

Lash rubbed her hand on the back of the chair. “Yes.”

“What happens if they don’t?” Camille asked.

“Yes, why don’t you tell us what your father is known for?” Vishana’s eyes flashed and the cat-chasing-the-mouse came out, full force.

“You already know?” Lash jerked her head up, fear clouding her eyes.

“Oh, most certainly I do. And trust me, it suits your brother’s reputation in the Dragon Reaches that he removes himself from the office. His connection with the Autumn Lord is acceptable but…”

Okay, that sounded like a threat. And if Smoky’s mother was threatening Shade’s sister, I wanted to know the reason for it.

After a long, awkward pause, Lash let out a long sigh. “Our father is known as the Enforcer. He punishes the ghosts who do not obey. I work for him—I’m learning to do what he does.”

Vanzir, who had been silently watching the scene, stepped forward. “You have the gift, don’t you? You can unleash pain on noncorporeal entities?”

Lash covered her face. “I inherited it. Shade did, too, but he chose to walk away from the family when Father wanted him to follow in his footsteps. Stradolans are able to wreak havoc on the spirit world—to administer pain, to trap and contain spirits. As I said, I took after my father and inherited his nature, while Shade followed in Mother’s footsteps.”

“So you punish the spirits who disobey.” Vishana stood then, rearing up to her full height. “You trap them, then torture them until they submit.”

The way she put it made Lash and her father sound like monsters. And I wasn’t sure they weren’t—but we knew nothing of the politics among the dead, and the Netherworld was as alien as the moon. I tried to reserve my judgment.

“Yes. Yes, we do. It is the way. It is the nature of the Netherworld. My father is honored for his talent and I choose to follow his path.” Lash stared at the silver dragon defiantly, but her bottom lip still trembled.

“Then own it, girl. Own it and stand behind it. As distasteful as I find the idea, claim it and be proud of what you do. If you apologize for it or attempt to conceal it, you will only arouse suspicion.” And as abruptly as she’d focused in on Lash, Vishana dismissed her with a wave of the hand. “Camille, where are the Knights?”

Camille cleared her throat, looking as startled as everyone else.

Smoky sprang into action. “Menolly, will you please bring Luke, Amber, and Venus here? Bring all their clothes, too.”

Relieved to be dismissed and given the chance to get out of what was an all-too-tense situation, I headed toward my lair. So Shade’s father was a torturer. Or rather… well… what would you call him? Shaking the whole mess from my mind for the time being, I scurried down the steps. Amber, Luke, and Venus were talking, and I motioned to them.

“The dragons are here. Bring all of your things with you.” I felt rather sorry for them. They had all been transplanted from Earthside to Otherworld, having to learn a whole new style of living, and now they were on their way to the Dragon Reaches. Only the gods knew what would be facing them there.

“Listen to me,” I said. “Dragons are presumptuous. They’re pompous, belligerent, arrogant, and obnoxious. One alone, hard enough to handle, even if you’re on his good side. Get a bunch of them together? Walk softly. Be polite. And for the sake of the gods, don’t make waves. Smoky’s mother is taking you in, and we rely on her goodwill. Don’t fuck it up. Got it? Oh, and be careful.”

Venus laughed. He sauntered over to me. The werepuma clapped me on the back. “Oh, Menolly. Don’t give us a second thought. We will survive and pull through this. And before long, my guess is that a new Queen will command us. And I have my suspicions as to who it will be.”

“Care to enlighten me?” I flashed him a crooked smile.

“Not at the moment, sweet-fangs. Not at the moment.”

And then, after an awkward good-bye to Amber and Luke, Amber gathered up her daughter, Jolina, and we headed upstairs.

The Wing Liege was standing at attention, straight shouldered, with knee-length hair the same color as Vishana’s. His eyes were the color of steel. He was dressed in a long, shimmering tunic the color of clouds against the water. A knotwork pattern bordered the hem, black lines weaving in on themselves along the edge of the material. Beneath the tunic, which was belted with a black leather belt and a silver buckle, he wore a pair of black pants and black leather boots. At his waist, a scabbard, worked in white leather, held what appeared to be a hefty short sword.

He crossed his arms across his chest as he stared at Luke and the others. “You will accompany us to the Dragon Reaches. Lady Vishana has agreed to house you in her apartments but this must be done quietly and no one else in the Dragon Realms must know. If word were to reach certain ears, there might be trouble. You will obey our commands, and you will make no decisions without consulting either Lady Vishana or myself.” He darted a glance at Venus. “That goes for you, too, you wily old shaman.”

Venus winked at him. “Understood.”

Vishana turned to Lash. “I give you an order. What you have just witnessed and heard here tonight, you will seal in silence. Never to speak of it. Do you understand me?” The threat was implied.

Lash nodded. “I do, Lady. I’m not even sure what I have seen.”

Camille stepped forward, curtseying to her mother-in-law. “Lady Vishana, I have a favor to ask of you.”

Vishana smiled, and her hair trailed out to touch Camille’s hand. “Yes, my dear? What do you need?”

Camille turned to me, then hung her head. “The war in Otherworld. Our friends are being slaughtered. Our father was killed. Can you help?”

The dragon’s smile slipped away and she let out a soft murmur. “I am truly sorrowed to hear this. Your family is our family. And we owe you much in return for what my former husband put you through. The Wing Liege and I will take this up in Council. I promise you, we will give it our full attention. Meanwhile…” She turned to Smoky. “There is another dragon in the area. You should be aware of this.”

At Smoky’s quizzical look, the Wing Liege chuckled. “She is a Blue… and should you meet her, be aware she is soil-bound for now—a punishment I’ve enacted on her. Keep your eyes open, in case you are to meet her. She goes by the name of Shimmer.”

“Is she dangerous?” Smoky frowned.

“No, but foolish at times. And headstrong. She is working off a debt, let us say.” And with that, he clicked his heels and nodded.

Vishana motioned to the guard. “Take the male Were. I will carry the woman and girl. Liege, if you would—the Shaman.” As the dragons moved into position, Amber, Luke, and Venus cautiously approached them. Vishana gently wrapped her hair around Amber and Jolina. The Wing Liege did the same to Venus, and the guard to Luke. Vishana raised one hand, palm facing out.

“Until next we meet. My son, take care of your family. Camille, take care of my son. Lash—do not be so quick to judge those not of your kind.” And then, in a flicker of light, the dragons shimmered slowly, growing brighter and brighter, and then—like lights being extinguished by the flick of a switch—vanished.

The room seemed empty. Lash had faded to the far wall, and now she eyed me cautiously. I could see the concern and—to some degree—ready hostility in her face.

While the others broke out in discussion, I segued my way over to her and leaned against the wall. “You seemed a little overwhelmed. I must admit, I don’t know much about the dragon hierarchy, but Vishana and the Wing Liege could intimidate anyone.”

Lash let out a snort. “That’s an understatement. Even in the Netherworld, the Silver Dragons hold sway over those of us with dragon blood. And in the Southlands, in the Dragon Reaches of fire and heat, the red and golden dragons still bow to the silvers. They are the imperial dragons, the most powerful. It has always been so, and so it will always be. It is tradition.”

Her voice fell on the last word softly, and by the soft glow in her eyes, I realized that Lash was dedicated to tradition and routine. She would accept her place and bow to Vishana because, in her mind, it was the correct thing to do.

“My sister loves Shade, you know. Passionately, fervently… with all her heart. She is dedicated to him, and he is to her. I hope you can accept this, because the Autumn Lord has brought them together and I doubt if anybody—sister or not—can separate them.” I wasn’t much for subtlety, but I had to make certain that Delilah was safe.

But Lash just reached out and laid light fingers on my arm. “No fears. I will not harm her. I admit, when I arrived today, it was with the mind that their union was wrong and should be severed, but I would never have hurt your sister in order to come between them. And after seeing my brother with her, it’s obvious that he’s dedicated to her, that he will uphold his duty.”

I frowned. It was obvious to me that Shade loved Delilah. She wasn’t just a duty call. But whatever the case, it was enough that Lash was willing to let it be. She didn’t have to like Delilah; she just had to avoid hurting her.

“So what are your plans? Are you staying for a while?” I was trying to find some common ground, to make her comfortable so that she’d be more comfortable with Delilah.

But she surprised me. She let out a sigh and straightened her back. “I suppose I’m going home. You seem to be at rough ends right now, and I think my presence here will just make things more tense than they need to be. I don’t want to upset my brother, or Delilah, so I will leave in the morning.”

“I don’t want you to feel unwelcome.” Where was Camille? She was so much better at playing hostess than I was. I glanced around and saw that she’d slipped out of the room, so I was going to have to field this one myself.

Lash smiled, though, and shook her head. “Quite the contrary. I don’t feel like you’re trying to shut me out. I did sense your not-so-subtle threat about not harming your sister, but that—too—I understand. No, I really do think that you need all your focus right now. I don’t pretend to understand everything that’s going on, but I gave Lady Vishana my word. I will never mention anything I’ve seen here to anybody. I’ll go home and tell my mother that Delilah is an appropriate match for Shade, and then I’ll get back to my work.”

She paused, eyeing me carefully. “You do know I’m proud of the work I do? And that I feel my brother is selling our father short? We all have our places in life, and Father was chosen for his post because of his abilities. You are not one to judge his actions so quickly, I think.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? Look at what I am—what I became? My father taught us to hate vampires. He hated vampires. Then, I fell into a nest of them—literally—and here I am. I had to learn how to cope with being what I am. I’ve had to unlearn a lifetime of hatred or I’d be walking into the sun. I don’t have to kill to feed, to survive, but the truth is, I choose to. Oh, I choose my victims carefully, unless we’re in the middle of a battle—and that’s war. But I kill, and feed on others.”

A little smile crept across her face. “What about when there’s no one suitable around?”

That was a good question, with no really adequate answer. “When I feed, I take into consideration who they are—what they are like. Sometimes it’s easy. Some freak who I catch trying to rape a woman, or pimp out kids? No sympathy. I take them out and am happy to do so. But when I have to feed on someone who doesn’t deserve what I do to them, I try to make it pleasant. Then, I wipe their memory and tell them to go home and rest and have a steak and anything else I can think of to ensure I do no permanent harm.”

As I finished speaking, my phone rang. Eager to extract myself from the increasingly uncomfortable conversation, I gave Lash a polite nod. “Excuse me, I have to answer that.”

I punched the Talk button to find my wife on the line. “Where the hell are you? I thought you were in the kitchen.”

She laughed, her voice throaty and rich. “I’m downstairs, waiting for you. Make some excuse and come down here now.”

The soft suggestion ran through me like a blazing fire. “I’ll be there in a minute. Don’t start without me.” As I hung up, I glanced at the clock. It was well past midnight by now, and I was ready for a break. I flashed Lash a wave, then shoved Trillian in her direction.

Whispering so she wouldn’t hear, I told him, “Entertain her till Camille gets back. I have things to do.”

“Yeah, I overheard your phone conversation. You have to go do your wife?” But he was grinning and nodded me off, heading over in Lash’s direction.

Trillian was a handsome man. His skin gleamed, obsidian smooth, and his mid-back hair was caught back in a ponytail, silver softly shimmering with cerulean accents. He could be an arrogant bastard at times, but he backed it up with action. And… really… he was a good guy. I’d grown to appreciate the Svartan over the past couple of years.

As I headed into the kitchen, toward the door to my lair, it hit me that right now, Trillian’s home, city of Svartalfheim, was awaiting siege from the sentient storm. None of us—except probably Camille—had even bothered to ask him how he felt, or if he had family or friends he was worried about. The Dark and Charming Fae—actually an offshoot of the elves—didn’t have the best reputation, but truth was, they’d sent help to Elqaneve. And when Shadow Wing threatened to force them under his rule, they had packed up the entire city and their sorcerers transported every building, every person, to Otherworld.

I had no clue how much the effort had cost them. That kind of magic took an enormous toll, and it had to have hit the mages hard. Unless they had somehow sourced their power off some object, or opened a door to one of the Elemental planes. That was a possibility.

With that in mind, I turned back to the living room, peeking around the corner, but Trillian was already engaged in talking to Lash. Ah well, I’d save my thoughts for later. Nerissa was waiting for me, and I didn’t want to disappoint her.

As I slipped through the door and clattered down the stairs, I could already sense her waiting. Over the past months, since we’d been married, Nerissa and I had developed a bond that went beyond words. I could feel her needs, and she seemed to sense mine. I wasn’t sure if this was normal for lovers, having never really had much of a love life before I was turned—and none to speak of afterward until I met Nerissa—but whatever it was, I didn’t question it. I just accepted the connection.

My lair was set up like a studio apartment. Here I could ride out the night in safety. For the first couple of years nobody except my sisters, Iris, and I had known where the entrance was. But as our family grew, keeping it hidden became too much of a hassle, so we’d traded in the wooden door behind the bookcase in the kitchen for a steel one that could lock from the inside. Now it might be easier to find me, but it would be harder to get to me.

The stairway led down half a flight, then turned back on itself for another half flight, opening into a hall. To the right was the ventilation shaft through which I could come if I was too filthy to walk through the house. Directly ahead was my bath. The bath was done in pale sage, with white tiles. While I didn’t need a toilet, anybody staying with me might, and I definitely needed the walk-in shower to hose off after fights, or if feeding had gotten messy.

To the left, the short hall opened into a living area with Nerissa’s desk, a filing cabinet she needed for work, and bookshelves. The layout was a lopsided U, with the hallway wall dividing the bath and living area on one side, from the bedroom on the other. The “bottom” of the U contained love seat and chair in a dark hunter green and, opposite the sleeping area, a floor-to-ceiling wardrobe. The wardrobe had a full-length mirror on the door. It wasn’t for me, since I couldn’t see my reflection, but for Nerissa.

My bedroom—or rather, ours, now that Nerissa was living with me—contained a king-sized bed, two nightstands, a rocking chair, and a TV/DVD player. We’d had cable run though, so now the TV actually worked, though I wasn’t much of a television buff. But Nerissa liked it and she didn’t always want to watch the trash TV that Delilah so loved.

I rounded the corner into the bedroom, where I stopped short. There she was. My wife. Waiting on the bed, in a pink baby-doll. She was curled up beneath the comforter—my green toile had been switched out for a gold-and-black spread, and though I’d been fond of my choice, Nerissa’s tastes had grown on me. They were luxurious, and opulent, and now that we were together, they didn’t seem self-indulgent. I would have felt like a stereotype if I’d turned my bedroom into a passionate love nest while alone, but now it felt natural.

Nerissa languidly draped herself over the mound of pillows, thrusting her breasts in the air. I could see the warm glow of her skin through the sheer nightgown, the rose-brown nipples jutting against the silken cloth. She stretched out those long legs, which seemed to travel on forever, and slightly spread her thighs so I could see the thatch of tawny, well-trimmed curls between them. Her bush was as silken as the hair on her head, which now tumbled over her shoulders, free from the ever-present librarian’s chignon.

Her hips were ample, her waist smooth and firm, and her boobs could rival Camille’s. All in all, my Amazon werepuma goddess was one big sex kitten. She let out a throaty laugh and crooked her finger at me, motioning me over to the bed.

I moaned softly, desire rising to flare in my heart. I wanted her, wanted to sink my lips into her pussy, to kiss every inch of those long legs, to lick and suck her breasts, to slip on a strap-on and go at her.

She rose up then, turning to kneel on the bed. Her skin glimmered under the light, and I stood, still as night, unable to take my eyes off her.

“Strip.” She pointed to my jeans. “Get your ass over here into bed.” As she cocked her head to the side, I was mesmerized by the sight of her ruby lips working their way around every word.

Slowly, I reached down and unbuckled my jeans, pulling the belt slowly through the loops to drop it on the floor. Then, just as slowly, I slid my jeans down over my hips and kicked them off. As usual, I was going commando, and I reached down to gently stroke the mound between my legs. Dredge had shaved me, carved his name into me, and the scars were still there, but now I didn’t notice them; they were simply the topography of my body. I stroked my fingers across my mound, waiting as Nerissa leaned forward on her hands and knees.

She wriggled, kittenish, cocking her head to one side as a wicked grin slid across her face. Then, as I stepped toward the bed, the smile slid away and her eyes took on a golden glow as she whispered, “I want you. You know how much I want you. Please, tell me you know how much I love you.”

I shuddered, her words hitting deep in my core. I’d never expected to feel this way—never in the world thought I’d find someone who made what life I had so very important. After Dredge, I’d given up hope. Then came Nerissa. And like water to a dying man, she had quenched the flaming thirst I hadn’t even realized was there. She was my everything. My all. Even though I loved to play with Roman, I’d kill a dozen of him just to keep my bronze goddess happy.

With a low growl, she reached out, grabbed my wrist, and yanked me to the bed. She had me down, her lips covering my neck, my chest, seeking out my nipples. As I spread my legs, she reached down and her fingers lightly trailed over my pussy, lingering along my clit, as the fire began to build.

I wrapped my arms around her, forcing my fangs to stay retracted. And then, I was exploring, my own fingers playing a melody with her body, cupping her breasts—pendulous and ripe. I squeezed, lightly at first, but then she pushed herself up, kneeling over me.

“Don’t play nice. I want it rough.” Her eyes were on fire. “I want it dark and delicious and deadly.”

“You know I can’t drink you—you know I won’t.” I shook my head, unwilling to subject her to my dangers.

She laughed. “There are other ways. Your glamour—you can use it without drinking from me.”

I understood then. I knew what she wanted. My lover was more like Camille than anybody knew, although Camille and Nerissa had talked about their needs before.

Unleashing my glamour, from both my Fae and vampiric natures, I focused on her. I willed her to hunger for me, to ache for me, to beg for me. And she growled again, low and throaty, and I knew her inner puma was on the prowl.

“Fuck me. Fuck me, please, fuck me. Eat me out, take me down, make me crawl for you.” Nerissa was panting now, clutching the sheets between her fingers. I pushed her away and rose up to my knees. She groveled in front of me, her butt in the air, her forehead on the bed.

I reached out and smacked her ass—hard—and she let out a sharp cry.

“You want this, baby?”

She whimpered.

“You need to get out of your head?”

With a nod, she let out a choked cry. “I had to help a werewolf today whose partner had been raped and murdered. I went with her to identify the body, then counseled her. I saw the look on her face, in her eyes. I need to get out of my head, out of my thoughts.”

“Too bad Venus is gone.” Venus the Moon Child had guided her through learning both how to heal through sex, as well as how to release pain through it.

“You know what to do. You understand.” Nerissa gazed up at me, her eyes teary. “Please…”

I nodded. I knew. I understood all too well. Sex for us was always loving, but it also mirrored our natures—feral and wild. I jumped off the bed and opened the drawer to my nightstand, withdrawing the black satin cord. Nerissa gave me a mute, grateful look, and I motioned to her hands.

“Wrists together.”

She presented her arms. I tied one end of the long cord around her left wrist, then the other end around her right wrist. She let out a soft sigh, almost of relief. As I looped the middle of the long cord around the hook that was screwed into the wall over our bed, forcing her to lie on her back with her arms taut but not to the point of pain, she began to cry, gentle tears, but she was smiling through them.

Just as silently, I removed a blindfold from the drawer and slid it over her eyes. Then, fetching the spreader bar from beneath the bed, I buckled the cuffs around her ankles, forcing her knees into a bent position, taking care not to cause her muscles to pull.

After she was trussed up, I laid a thick dildo to one side, then stood by the bed, just watching her. Her tawny hair spread over her shoulders in a mass of waves and her lips were bubblegum pink and glossy. The blindfold and bound legs and arms gave her a vulnerable, dewy look.

I leaned down, tracing my index finger along the outline of her lips. Nerissa moaned and her tongue flicked out to touch the tip of my finger. I slid my finger inside her mouth as her lips clenched around it, sucking against my pale skin. My hunger flaring, I pulled it out, abruptly, and pressed my lips against hers, kissing her deep, probing her mouth with my tongue, barely giving her the room to breathe as the kiss went on and on, and I melted into her need.

Nerissa moaned, and a soft “Please, oh please…” escaped from her lips.

I swung on the bed, carefully crawling between her legs. As I lowered my lips to her clit, my tongue circling softly around the bud, Nerissa let out a sharp cry and I felt the trembling in her thighs as she began to climb. I sucked harder, sliding two fingers inside her pussy, gently fingering her, then thrusting harder. She bucked beneath me, but I wouldn’t let her go, wouldn’t let her rest. Her juices smearing against my face, I abruptly pulled away.

“What do you want?” My voice was harsh, stern.

“I want you to fuck me. Make me come.”

“Ask nicely.” Again, the command.

And my beautiful Nerissa burst into sobs, the tears trailing down from behind the blindfold. “Please, please make me come. Please fuck me, please… I need you. I need it.”

At that moment, I yanked off her blindfold with one hand, and grabbed the dildo. “I want to see your face. I want to watch your eyes.”

She turned her gaze to me as I slid the dildo inside her slit. She was slick, she was wet, and as I fucked her hard, she began to writhe, crying out. Laying my head on her breast, I suckled hard, and then—leaving the dildo inserted deep within her—I lowered my lips to her clit once again. As my tongue met her sex, Nerissa buckled hard, stiffened, and then as a series of shudders rippled through her muscles, she cried out—sharp and harsh and almost in anguish. The cry stopped abruptly, followed by a sudden burst of laughter that went on and on, deep and rich and filled with freedom.

I glanced up, following the line of her body, watching the mingling of relief and joy and passion flicker across her face. A moment later, and she came to rest. I rolled up to a sitting position, slowly unlocking her from the spreader bar. She was breathing hard in the way that I knew meant she’d gone deep, yanked out the pain and worry and whatever thoughts lurked within that made her want to flee from her own mind. As I untied her wrists, she pulled me close, her lips closing in on mine. A moment later, and I was on my back, as she smiled, her puma showing through her eyes.

“I can’t imagine being without you.” And then, her fingers lowered to my body, and she led me into my own dance of dangers. As the night passed, the world outside faded, and there was only the two of us, together, and the passion between us.