Today's teaser is from Carte Blanche. In this BDSM novel, Special Enforcer and Domme Grace finds a new sub to play with - a vampire. But tonight, he's not feeling very submissive...
It had to be different, this time. They had to meet as equals if he could hope to ask questions of his own. It wasn’t how he had imagined a second meeting would go, but a different game could be fun, too.
This was why, when Grace entered the club that night, Ray’s card was turned with the red side up. Slow but loud music filled the dance area, making it impossible for him to hear her this time. Swaying gently against his dancing partner, he kept his eyes on Grace as she stepped down the staircase. She wore tight black leather pants that molded her ass perfectly when she turned around. With every movement, her black shirt showed the light sheen of silk. Ray watched her hand an envelope to Maxwell and receive a temporary card in return. She clipped it at her waist and accepted a drink before turning to the club. Her eyes swept the crowd; Ray could tell exactly when she noticed him. He grinned.
Lea shivered at his murmur, and her arms closed a little tighter against him when he brushed his lips against her shoulder. Her skin, flawless ebony on every other inch of her body, was marred with several bite marks there, only one of which was Ray’s.
“Always, Sir,” she replied, the anticipation thick in her voice. “And ready for more if you change your mind.”
“Not tonight, but thank you.”
He kissed her lightly before closing his mouth over her skin and dropping his fangs as slowly as he could. Lea let out a quiet sigh that became a breathless moan when he pulled on her blood, tight and slow. Her hands clasped his back; she would have been clawing him if not for his shirt standing in the way. The scent of lust rising from her had been thick already, but it doubled suddenly, even as her desire spiked her blood with the faintest tang of sex. Ray started letting go, and her heart stuttered against his chest.
“No,” she gasped. “Not yet, just a little—”
He pulled on her skin again, hard, breaking the small capillaries around the closing wounds and raising a bruise around them that he was sure would be just a shade darker than her skin. She shuddered in his arms and relaxed, resting her cheek on his shoulder.
“Thank…thank you, Sir,” she murmured, her voice thick with pleasure.
Ray brushed his lips against the bite to feel her body tremble one more time against his.
“You’re quite welcome. Always so sweet.”
She hummed lightly at the compliment, content. They continued to sway with the music amid the rest of the dancers. Some of them had noticed what was going on, Ray was sure, but it was hardly unusual at Carte Blanche. There was a rule against vampires biting humans in public areas of the club, but it wasn’t enforced. As long as it remained consensual, there really wasn’t anything that was frowned upon in the club.
Past the arch that separated the dance room from the sitting room next to it, Grace’s eyes were ice. She had sat down on a sofa that faced the dancers, the hand that held her glass leaning on the armrest, the other one thrown on the back of the sofa. She had watched Ray bite Lea without flinching or looking away, but with each passing moment, he could see her features becoming harder. She finished her drink in one long swallow that bared her throat then placed the empty glass on the coffee table in front of her. She uncrossed her legs and crossed them again the other way. The entire time, her eyes remained on Ray. When her fingers started tapping impatiently on the armrest, he figured he had made her wait long enough.
“You should sit down,” he murmured in the shell of Lea’s ear. “Munch on something. Have some juice.”
“I’m fine,” she protested. “I’m used—”
“That wasn’t a suggestion, Lea.”
She tensed against him, then dropped her arms from his back, waiting for him to let go of her waist before she pulled away.
“Yes, Sir,” she replied meekly, her eyes downcast. “I’m sorry.”
“Go, now. And be safe.”
She looked up just long enough to press her lips to his cheek before scurrying off toward the bar. He watched her go and shook his head. He’d let her do that the first time they had played; he could hardly reproach that small kiss to her now when he had said nothing the first time. Regardless, he had other plans for the moment. He looked back toward Grace and couldn’t help but grin as he started toward her.
She didn’t respond to his greeting when he got to her, nor did she reply when he asked if she wanted another drink. Shrugging, Ray sat down in the armchair opposite her.
“It was quite a lovely surprise to see you this morning,” he said after a few seconds. “I wouldn’t have expected—”
Her head whipped to the side, and she raised her hand toward a passing waitress, ignoring Ray completely.
“Another fruit cocktail,” she asked, her voice cold as winter. “And the child will have a glass of warm milk.”
The waitress threw Ray a startled look before hurrying away. This had definitely not been part of his plans.
“Listen,” he started, more calmly than he felt capable of, “there’s no need—”
“If you insist on acting like a child,” she interrupted him again, “I will treat you as one.”
That was all she said, but her piercing gaze flickered down for a second, settling on Ray’s card, before coming back up to look straight at him. Her left eyebrow rose expectantly even as her fingers resumed their impatient dance on the armrest. Ray found himself struggling not to squirm beneath that cold stare.
“I didn’t mean—”
“You do realize you’re only making things worse for yourself, don’t you?”
It was the complete certainty in her voice that made up his mind for him. She had no intention to treat him as an equal. If he was honest with himself, deep down, he had known she wouldn’t—and he might even have been disappointed if she had, the same way he had been disappointed when Keller had accepted insubordination from him.
Resigned and a little aroused, he stood and reached for the card at his belt, flipping it over in an instant. He started sitting back down, but she stopped him with a terse command.
“Go wash your mouth.”
The urge to roll his eyes at her was almost too strong to resist. He gave her a little bow before turning away and walking over to the restrooms. The hunter green tiles, darker walls and black doors enclosing five stalls, the bright lights above him and the square mirrors over the three porcelain sinks were all new to him. He had, of course, never needed to use the facilities. He glared into the mirror when he stepped in front of the sink. It had been eight years, but he still wasn’t getting used to his lack of reflection. Keller said that, in time, he’d get used to everything, but it was sometimes difficult to believe.
Head down, he watched water run from the gleaming faucet, his hands clutching the sides of the sink. Slowly, his irritation abated and his thoughts calmed down. He couldn’t begrudge Mistress Red for acting like a Dominant; it was who and what she was, after all. Cupping his hands beneath the flowing water, he leaned in to rinse his mouth, as she had demanded.
When he walked out of the bathroom, he kept his eyes lowered and returned to Mistress Red. His state of mind now matched the color of his card perfectly, which was probably what she had hoped to achieve when she had sent him away. Rather than sitting down across from her as before, he slid to his knees by her feet, his wrists crossing at the small of his back. On the table next to him, a tall, clear glass waited. The smell of warm milk tickled his nose, reminding him unpleasantly that she was upset with him. He would have apologized, but that would have meant talking without permission. He figured he had disappointed her enough for one night.