Chapter 9
Emmy expected to feel it on her inner thighs, but he struck her clit and pussy with it, and her spine bowed as much as possible while a scream ripped from her chest.
The vampire wielded the leather with unrelenting focus, and he alternated aiming for a direct hit on her pussy, her asshole, and her clit.
All three were often struck in the same blow, but one always bore the brunt of the energy.
The worst was when he struck her clit alone, the impact compressing and crushing it, bruising and devastating the tender nerves and tissues until Emmy thought she’d lose her mind from the agony.
Again and again, over and over, the heavy leather struck her most intimate places. Emmy screamed and shrieked, the sounds echoing back to her off the stone walls.
Somewhere in the middle of it, he spit on her — cold and wet on her hole — just before slapping it with the strap again. The shame of it flooded her. Strung up and beaten. Opened like a damned Thanksgiving turkey.
And then it was over.
Or at least this part of it. It felt as if he’d beaten her for hours, but thinking through the time, she figured perhaps he’d used half of it. She hoped he’d used more. Hoped she’d figured wrong.
Her body trembled as the winch slowly let her down. He released her hands and helped slide her torso across the floor as her ankles were lowered.
But she wasn’t allowed to stand. He lifted her and carried her to a gyno table, calves in stirrups so wide her thigh muscles once again ached. Unsurprisingly, her arms were buckled down beside her. She wasn’t just restrained, she was displayed and presented. Open and available for his use.
And then, standing above her head, he leaned in, turned her face to the side, and fucking bit her.
Only one long, deep pull, but then the damned cocktail hit and her nipples peaked, her cunt clenched involuntarily, and her body ached for friction. Sharp, hot acid flooded her entire system — every cell in her motherfucking body — but there was no outlet.
Her clit throbbed, her muscles flexed. She needed.
And then came the suction bulbs to her bruised and aching nipples. They were immediately larger, blood pulsing into them, but she focused on the bottle in his hand. Pure capsaicin. The kind with an eyedropper, and the bastard wore goggles while he put it on her damned clit.
Her eyes burned when the lid was unscrewed, but nothing like her clit. It didn’t just burn. It consumed. Her scream was immediate and incoherent, animal. Her body fought the straps, jerked and twisted, but there was no escape.
A small suction dome went over her clit, and he pumped it a half-dozen times. It felt as if the suction sealed the oil in and pressed it deeper into the tissues, forcing it down every nerve.
And then the lid went back on the bottle, the goggles came off, and he fucked her without buildup or preamble.
Just shoved himself into her wide-open pussy with brutal force a dozen times, pulled out, shoved into her ass, and fucked her hard and fast like a damned mechanical piston.
Back and forth from her pussy to asshole.
Pleasure wasn’t possible despite his venom pushing her to arousal because she could see the second-degree burns already forming on her clit, and the pain overrode every ounce of arousal he’d forced into her veins. She could only endure while she cried and sobbed. While she burned.
There would be no orgasm or pleasure. Only thrusts into her holes.
Only burning pain and suction. Her grotesque clit, three or four times its normal size, the top layers of skin burned and misshapen from the cells her shifter magic tried to heal, but the capsaicin kept burning.
Unlike a human who might have deadened nerve endings by now, hers were still fully alive, still sending every ounce of torment and fire to her brain while the vampire fucked her holes, back and forth, taking his pleasure in her pain.
And then he rose up and over her, his dick in her pussy, a hand on her right boob to balance himself, and he struck again, but this time, he fed. Long pulls he savored, swallowing leisurely, taking his time to enjoy the dragon he’d bought.
And somewhere in the feeding, he fucked her again, and then pulled out and came across her stomach about five seconds before the door opened and Spence entered.
The vampire flew up and off her, lowered himself to the floor, and walked out without a word.
The suction bulbs remained, and her cunt still burned.
The straps held firm, and she couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.
Spence removed the bulbs on her nipples and then got to work on releasing her hands and calves.
“I’ve asked someone to bring olive oil and milk.
We’ll rinse with the full-fat milk the second the dome comes off, and then you can rub the olive oil on to neutralize as much of the damned capsaicin as we can.
We’ll just put you in an oversized tee to drive you to the Atrium.
How much of this are you getting? Nod if you understand the basics, nod twice if you got it all. ”
She nodded twice, and he went back to work on releasing her.
“Stay put. You’re in the best position for us to pour the milk.”
Spence had her free of the last strap when the door opened again, and Fawn stepped in with a gallon of milk and a bottle of olive oil.
She didn’t speak, only set everything down and opened the milk, so when Spence tilted the dome off and pain hit fresh and raw all over again, Fawn was pouring cold milk on her.
Emmy screamed, her voice trashed, but she couldn’t stop, couldn’t hold it in.
Raw sounds ripped inside her throat and sent fresh pain knifing through her ribs and down to the ruin between her legs.
The vibrations ripped across her scorched throat and sent new waves of agony through her broken body, but she couldn’t stop.
Every cry scraped her raw, but the pain inside her needed out even if the sound of her screams became just one more thing she wanted to escape.
Cold milk poured over her clit in a steady stream, and it helped — not enough, not nearly enough, but at least she could breathe through it without clawing her own thighs open, without ripping what was left of the inside of her throat loose with screams she couldn’t stop.
When the gallon was empty, Spence poured olive oil over it and told her, his voice calm and steady, an anchor she could cling to. “This should neutralize it a little more, and then I’ll get you to the Atrium as fast as I can.”
Fawn gently pulled the skin above her clit, pulling it so the oil coated more of the ruined, red, swollen, completely unrecognizable tissue. The burn flared hotter for a moment, then eased enough Emmy could hold the screams inside her.
Spence sat her up enough to get a huge black tee over her head, and then lifted her into his arms. Fawn pulled the shirt down over her butt, never mind her arms were trapped inside.
The goal was speed, and doors opened for Spence before they got to them, so he raced to the garage with her and settled her on a seat someone had already lined with a thick towel.
He handed her the seatbelt before racing to the driver’s side, and she clicked it in before letting the seat back, so she wasn’t sitting up straight.
Fuck, everything was swimming around her. Maybe if she didn’t watch the world go by, she could keep from puking.
Spence floored it on roads they usually took slow, managing curves in an SUV like they were in a racecar.
The daylight above the trees put them into light and shadow, but Emmy kept her eyes closed and only saw the moving, changing lights through her eyelids.
There was no room for thought, no space for shame or anger.
Only pain. Her clit was a molten brand between her thighs, and every nerve screamed never again, never again, never again.
When they hit the city, the light patterns changed, and when she opened her eyes, buildings blurred past, but she closed them again lest her nausea took hold so she couldn’t keep it at bay.
This hadn’t been worth a hundred thousand dollars. Even a million dollars was questionable.
She got herself out of the SUV and then stood while Spence used an old-fashioned key on the outer door to get them inside.
She listened for heartbeats once inside to be damned sure no humans saw her change, ripped the tee over her head on the way to the center of the largest room, and then burst into dragon form, the magic ripping through her with glorious violence.
And then breathed in the world through her magnificent, giant, four-legged form.
She stretched her wings out as much as possible, arched her neck, and wished she could take to the skies and blow fire, but that would need to wait for a trip to Faerie.
And damn, could she use a conversation with her Aunt Mab about now.
“Better?” Spence asked.
“Yes. Thank you for taking care of me. I know it’s your job, but still, thank you.”
“You’re more than just the job, Emmy, and wow, you are glorious in your dragon form. It’s suddenly obvious why you were named Emerald.”
Sapphyre’s dragon form is blue, and Hunter’s is a deeper hunter green, while she had this brilliant emerald green. She took another deep breath and asked, “How long can I stay dragon?”
He looked at his wrist. “Maybe another five or ten minutes? Do you need more time to heal?”
She shook her head. The burn was gone. Skin smooth, nerves whole.
She’d wanted some time to consider things in this brain, larger and faster than her human one, but if Spence needed to get back, her human-sized brain could sort through it just as well.
It might take an hour rather than five or ten minutes, but she’d get to the same place.
She shook out her wings again, claws scraping the polished stone floor, stretched her body, and then shifted back to human, put the tee on, and padded barefoot back out to the SUV.