Chapter 8
Penelope
“Safe word?” Dahlia demands as she pins me to the bed.
I cock my head at her and grin. “Vampire trash.”
“That’s two words, Penelope,” she tuts, all dramatic, playing the game. “Pay attention, or I’ll put this stake somewhere that will make you consider behaving.”
Who the hell is this vampire? I’ve never had anyone give as good as I do.
She’s relentless. And I am soaked—and not with sweat.
Apparently, I do like being challenged. Who knew?
It’s not like anyone in the palace challenges me.
Gods know Blane didn’t. Daria might be the only exception and that’s purely over security.
All Mother’s staff pander to whatever ridiculous requests I make, my dramatics usually swept under the carpet.
But Dahlia. She isn’t taking any of my shit, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so pissed off or aroused.
My nipples are so hard they’re chafing against my night dress, and my thighs keep sticking together.
“Safe word…” Dahlia says, the warning clear in her tone. Too bad for her, I don’t seem to have a line.
“Hmm, if it’s not vampire trash, how about: fuck you?” I laugh as the words spill out.
She grits her teeth and flips me on to my front.
“The problem with brats is thinking they can beat their dom. You can’t. Your safe word is stiletto. Say it.”
“S… S…Vampire trash.” A cackle tickles my tongue as I try and keep a straight face.
She hoiks my nighty up and off my body, leaving me naked on the bed, and proceeds to spank me hard enough it’s going to leave a handprint. I yelp. But my body breaks out in goosebumps as the sting turns to molten pleasure.
“Say. It,” she snarls.
“Fuck. You… Sir.”
I swear her skin flushes, but she moves fast and brings the stake down on my backside.
I shriek, try to wriggle and scramble up to rub my cheeks, but she has me pinned on my front, my arms locked behind my back.
Tears well just as her hand strokes and circles my raw skin, soothing the sting of what I know is going to leave a bruise.
A mark.
She fucking marked me.
That realisation makes a little zing of pleasure pulse in my clit.
“I’m going to ask you one more time.” She slides something cool and hard between my legs right to my entrance. What the fuck?
I wriggle up and away. “Is that the stake? I thought that was a joke.”
“I never joke. Safe word, Princess…”
I’m panting. Short, shallow breaths as I try and move. But I’m stuck, her grip might as well be steel chains. My clit throbs so violently I know I’m going to come whether I like it or not.
How dare she treat me like this.
How dare I enjoy it.
I’m livid.
Furious with her. Even more furious with myself for enjoying it. I buck against her grip, knowing the punishment is only going to get worse.
I want it.
I need it. I want to see how far I can push her. And I won’t lie, the fact she’s pushing right back and standing up to me is the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. I crave the fact she’s putting me in my place. No one has ever been strong enough or dared to do that.
“Trash,” I spit out.
She sighs audibly and brings the stake to my entrance, drawing it around my opening. Teasing, making me soak the end of it. I shiver against her, my whole body alive with electricity. Then the cool press of wood is gone. I crane my head back.
“One last time.” She grins, that same expression of chaos and curiosity I saw in the Whisper Club. Only this time, it’s a little more twisted, a little more sadistic. Her expression reforms into malice and maybe a little mayhem.
“Safe. Word,” she says, her tone so commanding, so fucking demanding I almost break.
Almost.
I grin, all teeth and fire: I am nothing if not defiant.
I blink slowly, making sure she knows I heard and am choosing to disobey. “Trash.”
She smiles. “I hoped you’d say that.”
The stake moves to my arsehole.
My eyes widen. Oh fuck. The realisation that the wood is only lubricated with me, and I am not warmed up hits me hard.
I bury my head in the duvet as she pushes the stake through my ring of muscle.
It’s tight, but thankfully, she goes slowly.
She releases my wrists, her other hand finding my pussy and circling my clit.
Moving her fingers from my apex to my entrance, gliding in and out, filling me, stretching me, pushing me to the brink.
“Oh gods,” I whine into the mattress. I tilt my hips, forcing the stake in deeper. She drags it out, the sensation creating a rush of tingly pleasure through my ring. One finger in my pussy becomes two, as she glides in and out of both holes. I tremble, moaning and gasping against the duvet.
“Safe word, Penelope,” Dahlia hums, though at this point she knows as well as I do that I won’t be giving it to her.
When my response is a muffled moan, she pulls her fingers out and slaps my ass. The reverberations run through my entire body. My nipples rub against the bed and my whole body sings with such acute pleasure I’m convinced this is how I die.
She pushes back inside me, her fingers rubbing against my G-spot as the stake moves in and out of my arse.
“Fuck, Dahlia, I’m going to…”
She moves the stake harder, faster, her fingers gliding in and out of my pussy until I’m trembling against her, waves of golden pleasure throbbing deep inside my cunt.
Then, she stops. Oh gods, no.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I wrench around to glare at her.
“Penelope…” she tuts. “Give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you need…”
She begins thrusting the stake and her fingers inside me again. In and out she moves them. In. Out. In. Out. Then slower… This time, it makes the waves of pleasure ripple through me in a rhythmic pulse so violent my entire body tightens, taking me right up to the precipice.
And then she stops. My whole body crashing back to nothing.
I scream out, frustrated. “Please, I beg.”
“The safe word, Penelope,” she says, her tone mute. Final.
I say nothing. She brings her hand down on my arse—hard. My skin throbs, but as soon as I cry out, she’s moving again, wringing every ounce of pleasure from my body.
Pain.
Pleasure.
Tears.
Over and over, she cycles.
Pain.
Pleasure.
Tears.
My mind drifts, vanishing into euphoria as she moves in perfect rhythm. Smack, thrust, thrust, thrust. Smack, thrust, thrust, thrust.
My body trembles and shakes. I’m no longer sure whether I’m crying or screaming or dying in heaven.
“I can do this all night,” she whispers into my ear. “Do you want to come?”
“Yes,” I whine. “Please. Please let me.”
“You know what you need to do…”
“What if I don’t want one? What if there’s no line you could cross that I wouldn’t come hurtling over just to spite you?”
Dahlia’s expression falls. “I figured you’d say that. But that is exactly why you do need a safe word.”
I slump against the mattress, defeated. “Stiletto.”
She resumes her thrusting, only she pulls the stake out and flips me onto my back. Then, she sinks between my legs and draws a long sweep of her tongue over my clit.
“Fuck me,” I breathe.
She moans with pleasure as she laps at my soaked cunt.
Her tongue glides over every inch of me, my clit, my entrance, my folds.
This is what it’s like to be ravished. Two fingers find their way back inside me, and I pant out her name.
Stars smatter my vision. She held back my orgasm so long I swear I’m going to combust.
She laps faster: a wild animal, starved and feral, and I am the only thing that can satiate her. I grind my pussy against her face, bucking against her mouth as her other hand digs into my thigh, fighting to keep me in place. She’ll bruise me. I’ll wear yet another mark from her on my body.
It’s that thought that pushes me over the edge.
I come apart.
Truly.
Completely.
I think I black out? Pleasure spreads everywhere. My nipples tingle, bolts of electricity shoot from my clit to my toes. A wave of rushing heat pools deep in my pussy and fires through every cell of my body until…
I’m sobbing. Giant cries cleave me in two as a wholeness settles over me that I’ve never experienced before.
“It’s okay,” a soft voice says. “It’s okay.”
I’m wrapped in strong arms, a duvet pulled tight around us.
“Dahlia?” I breathe.
“Don’t speak yet, just stay in my arms, that was a lot.” She holds me for a while, soothing and caressing me until my tears ease. Then she reaches to my side table and grabs a bottle of water.
“Here,” she says and holds it up to my mouth. I’m trembling too hard to take it myself. She helps me drink and puts it back, only to cradle me all over again. I never expected a vampire could show such tenderness. Let alone one as hard as Dahlia.
She pulls the duvet around us again and holds me, twirling a lock of my hair around her fingers and stroking me until I drift to sleep in her arms. The last thought I have is that this is the first time in my life I’ve been entirely satiated.