Chapter 14 – Dahlia
Dahlia
The next morning I awake in a tomb.
At least, it feels like a tomb, it is so fucking dark.
I figure I’m in Valtu’s bedroom because I vaguely remember that’s where we ended up and I can tell it’s morning because of the birdsong from somewhere outside, but I didn’t think his room would be this dark, vampire or not.
Then I blink and my eyelashes press against something and I realize that the room isn’t dark—I have something over my eyes.
I gasp, trying to move, to bring it off my face, but my arms are above my head, my wrists tied to each other.
I open my mouth to yell but suddenly a rush of cold comes at my face and a large, cool palm is placed over my lips.
“Shhh,” Valtu says quietly, his voice rich and soothing. “It’s just me. Professor Aminoff.”
I breathe heavily through my nose, trying not to panic as he presses his hand over my mouth harder.
Oh my god.
He found out, didn’t he?
He knows what I am. The glamor slipped during sex last night and he knows I’m a witch, he knows I was sent to kill him.
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
He’s going to kill me.
“You’re trembling,” he remarks in surprise.
He pulls his hand off my mouth and I gulp for air as his fingers go to the side of my face, lightly touching my cheekbones. “Have you forgotten last night already? Have you forgotten what I am to you?” he whispers.
I swallow hard, trying to regain my breathing. “Why…why am I tied up?”
“Because,” he says.
That’s all he’s got?
“Because what?”
You’re a psycho?
“Because I wanted to see your fear,” he says, dragging the last word out. “I told you that I would push you beyond what you were comfortable with.”
“I believe you used the word terror, actually.”
Does my fear turn you on? I want to ask. But I know the answer. Of course it does. Perhaps this is the only way he can be with me without feeding on me, to ellicit fear in some other way. Maybe he feeds on my fear just like he does on blood.
“Terror is subjective.”
I try to move my arms over my head again but find them attached to something, maybe the headboard, and I struggle a little. I can practically hear him smile.
“When did you do this?” I ask, trying not to panic. “I would have woken up.”
“You were out like a light,” he says. “And I would have done your ankles next. Kept your legs spread. Then I would have ensured you woke up while you were coming on my tongue.”
It doesn’t sit right that I didn’t wake up while he both slipped a blindfold over my eyes and tied my wrists together and to the bed, but I have no choice but to accept it. Either he did something to me, compelled me to stay asleep, or I was just that exhausted from all the sex last night.
Okay, considering how it went last night, getting completely fucked downstairs on his rug, then against his piano, then on the table in the kitchen, then giving him a blowjob in the shower, it could totally be the latter.
I just hate that I can’t see him. What if I’m not alone in this room?
What if there are other vampires in here with him?
I’ve seen what they do in their vampire sex dungeon, how they share humans like a piece of meat.
Is that what they’re going to do with me here?
Sure I was aroused when I was watching it, but being an unwilling participant is something else entirely.
I mean, it’s one thing to be willingly blindfolded when you know what the room looks like around you. It’s another to literally wake up that way. I don’t even remember getting into his room last night, we were too busy smashing our bodies and faces together in a hurricane of deviant lust.
Because that’s what last night was. I’d never been treated so roughly during sex before, never felt so debased and primal.
Valtu was determined to call up my darkness, but more than anything I felt like I wanted to drown in his.
I would have done anything he said, because in those moments he was my lord.
The words felt good to say— my lord —like I’ve said them before, like I’ve let him take control some other time.
And now that darkness has come for me again.
He’s brought it.
Literally.
“Relax, my dove,” he says to me softly and the phrase makes my brain jolt.
Why did that sound so familiar?
Has he called me that before?
Last night he called me love but this…this is jogging my memory and bringing up nothing except the most intense feeling of déjà vu.
I hear him take in a shaking breath and my skin leaps as he brushes his fingers over my breasts, my nipples growing tighter.
I’m naked. Of course I am.
“I love to see you like this, Dahlia,” he says. “Do you know that you bloom, just like your namesake? Makes me want to bury myself in your petals. There isn’t a more beautiful sight than seeing you open for me.”
His head dips down so I feel the stubble of his chin and he brushes it over my breasts, my skin tingling and on fire, my heart leapfrogging in my chest. He blows gently, his breath cold and I gasp.
“That’s it,” he says. “Let go of the fear. Let me take you to some place better.”
His smooth cool palms skim over my ribcage, the dip of my waist, the curve of my hips, then across my belly and down. He slides a hand between my thighs and I’m shockingly wet already. My body has lapped up the fear, using it as fuel.
God, I can’t believe how turned on I am, like my body has been wanting this for a long time but has never bothered to tell my brain.
“Do you want to come for me, Dahlia?” he murmurs, a thumb sliding over my clit.
I swallow hard, nodding.
“Let me hear you say the words,” he says.
“Yes, my lord,” I say, ready to play for him, to live in this role. “I want to come for you.”
A low groan leaves his lips. “That’s my good girl.”
He pulls his thumb across my clit and I cry out, jerking against my bonds.
“You like that, hmm?”
“Yes, my lord,” I breathe.
“You want me to lick you, don’t you?”
“Anything you want,” I say, raising my hips to try and get purchase against his hand.
“But what do you want, my dove?” he asks, using that moniker again. There’s something so unnervingly affectionate about the way he says it, something that tickles a pleasure spot in the back of my brain.
“What do you want?” he repeats, pulling his hand away, leaving me feeling empty, greedy for more.
“I want you to make me come, my lord,” I tell him. “I want to make you come inside me.”
“Do you want me to hurt you?” he asks.
I go still at that question. What does he have in mind? I know he spanked me last night and I liked it. I could take more of that. He tore some of my hair out. I could take that, too.
“You’re afraid,” he muses, his hand spreading across my thigh. “You’re afraid of what I might do to you. And I thought you trusted me, Dahlia.”
I never said I trusted you . I almost say it, but bite my tongue instead.
“Let me ask you again,” he says. “Do you want me to hurt you before I make you come? Do you want the sweetest kiss of pain, pain that melts into you like snow under sunshine? If I tell you it pleases me to see you overcome that pain, that it gets me harder than anything in my life, will you let me hurt you?”
Oh god. I feel so fucking insane right now, like I already can’t breathe properly, like my heart might burst right out of my ribcage. I’m scared, I really am, but I no longer have the same fear as I did earlier. I don’t have that real fear, the fear for my life.
No, right now it’s pure curiosity.
It’s fear and anticipation.
It’s a combination I could get drunk on.
“Yes,” I say, my mouth feeling so dry.
“Yes, what, love?” he asks me as he spreads my legs and I feel him adjust himself between them, the bed sinking under his weight. God, I want him.
“Yes, my lord,” I say, squirming with need, my nerves dancing with the unknown, unsure what he’s going to do next. “You can hurt me.”
He chuckles warmly, a sound that brings a hit of relief, sounding like the man I know.
It’s hard to reconcile the fact that this is Professor Aminoff, my teacher at school, and he’s also Dracula, the vampire I’m supposed to kill, and now he’s this…
I don’t know what he is but all I know is that I want him so bad it scares me.
I feel his bare arms press against my thighs, his head lowering.
“I’m going to lick you now,” he whispers, his breath over my cunt, making me gasp.
“And I’m going to make you as wet as I can, make you come as hard as I can.
And then I’m going to fuck you until you break, even if that takes the rest of the day. ”
The day. Somewhere in my head I remember that I have school at some point in the day, as does he, and yet none of that seems to matter now. If he doesn’t seem worried, I’m not either.
His tongue slides over my clit, wet and hot, sending a bright wave of pleasure through my body. I let out a little cry and jerk against the confines of my ropes.
“You’re so responsive,” he says, his voice guttural, his words vibrating over my clit. “So greedy. I can feel how close you are and I can smell how much you want it. I can smell how much you want me,” he growls, his tongue flicking out, his teeth scraping over my most sensitive skin.
Oh god!
I tense, waiting to feel the pinch of his fangs but his teeth are gentle and he doesn’t draw blood.
Holy shit. For a moment I really thought he was going to feed.
And yet somewhere in the back of my mind…it’s almost like I wanted that.
He intensifies his licks, his tongue sliding lower, lapping at the wetness gathering between my thighs, making me writhe with quick flicks of his tongue, making me want to moan.
He’s fucking me with his mouth, eating me with deliberation, the hungry growls, making me hotter and wetter and more desperate for him.
It’s like none of last night happened and he’s doing this for the first time, like I’ve spent my whole life waiting for it.