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Broken (Billionaire's Blood Slave 2)
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Broken
The Billionaire’s Blood Slave 2
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Copyright 2012 by Rosa Steel
Smashwords Edition
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All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.
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Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Captive
If she closed her eyes, Alice could almost pretend she was somewhere else. Almost.
No matter what she did, there was still the harness. Knight’s men hadn’t taken it off her, even though she’d begged them to. It pressed into her skin with a horrible, degrading sensuality. The black leather straps crossing to either side of her slit rubbed the skin just enough that she couldn’t forget that Knight’s hands had been there. He’d been inside of her against her will, and he would take her again whenever he wanted.
And maybe she’d come again, like some easy slut. There was nothing she could do about that either. For a long time she cried, drowning in her own shame and terror.
The other vampires hadn’t even spoken when they’d thrown her in the cell the night before. They’d simply pushed her in with their cold claws and shut the door.
Alice’s prison was richly carpeted in white, but windowless and bare except for a luxuriously large bed. It took up most of the space, tall, plush and draped in a silvery fur. Adjoining the bedroom was a bathroom small enough to be a closet. There was nothing in there of interest - only tissues and soap on the counter. The soap smelled like crushed herbs and rosewater, so good that she could have taken a bite of it. The part of her brain still capable of logic told her the reason for the lack of furnishing: There was nothing here to commit suicide with. Even if there had been something Alice was not sure she could have done it.
The overall effect was that of an expensive hotel crossed with an asylum, and the hotel part was worse. When she nuzzled into that soft fur and felt it scratching against her bare belly, she was –for an instant – comfortable as a slave. When she caught herself it made her want to retch.
After an hour or so a pale servant came, carrying a tray of gleaming silverware and equally gleaming food. A succulent roast quail was nestled between fresh spring vegetables in a tureen in the center. Glossy pastries were in their own dish, and soup, and more things that she didn’t know. The vampire kicked the bed where she was curled up, until she jumped.
“Food, slave,” he snarled.
When Alice failed to answer he left the tray lying on the floor and hissed with disgust.
Was that the ribbon? She reached up and touched it. It was snug, deep crimson and wound tight around the soft skin of her throat. Knight’s mark on her – a ‘claim’, he’d said. She wondered, exhausted, if the servant would have hurt her without it.
Alice cursed her own weakness, feeling it like a rock in her stomach. He did NOT do you a favor. Nothing he did to you was good. Nothing. You are not a slave, she told herself. That would have been easier to believe if her ass didn’t sting from his whipping, and if there weren’t leather straps hugging her chest. She was still wet from his cock inside her, his cum glistening on her pale thighs.
Alice left the food where it was and crawled under the fur. Curled up in the warm dark she ground her teeth and sobbed, trying not to remember how good it had felt.
---
There was no way to tell time, but she supposed it must have been dusk when they came to wake her. She didn’t hear them come in, only jolting awake when they slammed the door behind them.
There were two of them, and she thought they were the same ones that had helped kidnap her. The vampires leered at her, glancing at each other as if sharing a private joke. Both were tall and ivory pale, though shorter than Knight. One was obviously Scandinavian, or had been in life. His hair shone like corn-silk, and ice blue eyes stared from other heavy brows. The other was some confusing mixture; at least part Asian, with soft chestnut hair. In other circumstances she might have been amazed - they were two of the most beautiful men she’d ever seen. Alice wondered if Knight chose servants based purely on how attractive they were, or if all vampires were simply gorgeous.
“Rise and shine, slut.” The dark one grinned at her. “You’ve got a date with the boss.”
At the word ‘slut’ something stirred in her. “Fuck you,” Alice said, before she had time to think. Time to find out if they really can’t harm me, she thought, morbidly.
“Hah! We already did,” He was grinning dangerously, unable to contain his pleasure.
“Quiet, Vic.” The blonde snarled.
“What?” Her eyes widened, and suddenly her heart was pounding. She flattened herself against the wall.
The blonde only scowled, reaching down. Though she flinched away he was quicker, and he grabbed a hold of her harness. The straps bit into her exposed flesh as he yanked her off the bed, her breasts swinging freely, bare to their hot gaze. She whined helplessly as he dragged her closer to his chest. Now the other, Vic was behind her, laughing under his breath. He was so close that the hair on the back of her neck stood up. When his first light touch fell on her skin she jumped, squeaking in fear. Vic’s fingertips traced feather-light down her spine, then continued, parting the soft flesh of her buttocks.
“Stop,” Alice gasped, her voice high pitched with terror. “Knight will kill you both.”
The blonde looked over her body with painful slowness, smirked. His hand went to her throat and slipped roughly between the blood-red ribbon and the delicate skin of her throat.
“Too bad about this, eh?” He said, sneering over her shoulder. “I suppose we will never have her again. The lord Knight can be so sentimental.”
They forced me while I was drugged, she thought, turning cold.
“Damn shame,” Vic breathed, hot at her ear. His hand slid lower. Deft fingertips brushed over the lips of her sex. “She was less annoying when she couldn’t talk.” His finger rubbed, just slightly, so that Alice squealed in fear.
“Not too far,” the blonde warned.
Vic sighed in disappointment, stepping back. “Fuck, Sig. You can be such a drag.”
Thank you, Alice thought, trying not to cry.
The ribbon might have meant she was protected from wandering hands, but apparently they were still allowed to force her to move. The blonde, Sig, had reached into his pocket, and now un-reeled a length of supple black leather. Her mind spun, but it could only ever be one thing: a leash. The silver clip was polished to a high shine, matching the silver inlay on her harness. Alice could only blush in shame as he snapped it to the D-ring between her trembling breasts.
“You think this is bad, slut?” Vic whispered, “Wait till he gets bored and pierces your nipples. Nothing like a leash on a nipple ring--”
“That’s enough,” Sig growled. He seemed bored now, like he just wanted this over with. He gave a hard snap on the leash, enough that Alic
e stumbled forward a step. “Come along, slave.”
---
They passed through a maze of dark corridors, with her stumbling as she took steps too long for the chain between her ankles. There were no windows, not even when they passed through larger rooms. Alice watched the architecture change as they grew closer to their destination- steel rebar and concrete to lushly detailed wallpaper, glossy hardwood. Where is this place? She’d never been anywhere even slightly similar. Wondering about the building gave her a chance to stop thinking about the vampires, the leash, and the creature waiting for her.
Finally, Vic pushed open a door, beyond which were only stars and snow. No - it was a glass tunnel. The stars were outside, the snow was piled high against the panes beyond the glass. They dragged her through, and Alice was immediately plunged into sweltering humidity and moonlight.
“Fucking hate this place,” the blonde muttered, loosening his collar.
Alice flushed in the heat, immediately breaking into a warm sweat. Her thighs rubbed together stickily as she took her tiny, stumbling steps. Ahead was glowing light, hot and yellow as sunlight, and a wall of green.
“A conservatory,” she murmured.
“Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to.” Vic snarled, reaching over to yank her leash.
The conservatory glowed with life, a glass dome taller than a three story building and filled to the ceiling with towering plants. The air was richly scented, heavy with dew and nectar. The concrete floor of the tunnel had turned to gloriously plush grass. It reached up between her toes, tickling pleasurably across the soles of her feet.
In this beautiful place Knight was waiting, dark as a panther in the jungle. He sprawled on an antique chaise longue, bathed in the golden light pouring from a chandelier. Unlike last night he was dressed for comfort – at least more so. His shirt was white, immaculate and crisp against his pale skin. The pants were simple and dark but perfectly cut. He’d kicked his feet up, lazing over the expensive furniture in a way that was painfully alluring.
His black eyes flicked up, fixed on her face.
Alice’s breath caught in her throat. As hot as the place was, she suddenly felt like she’d been dropped into icy water. She tried in vain to hide her bare flesh, pull back away from him, but the pair of vampire flunkies only snarled at her. They dragged her closer step by step, like a wayward puppy.
In this light he glowed as pale as marble, with eyes deeper than the night sky. He looked her up and down, slowly, enjoying her discomfort. At first she stared back, but her instincts screamed at her until she looked down and away, trembling slightly. The flunkies stood silent to either side of her, the blonde one holding tight to her leash.
“They tell me you didn’t eat anything.”
“Didn’t meet my standards.” Alice rasped, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. It was stupid to taunt this cruel man, but even if it meant a whipping she had to prove she wasn’t afraid of him.
“And I see you’ve recovered your sarcasm.” Knight leaned back, grinning just wide enough to bare one gleaming fang. “In my youth I would have beaten that out of you, or worse. You should consider yourself lucky.”
“What changed?” Alice asked, before she could stop herself.
“I grew up!” He laughed, “It only took four hundred years.” He stretched, as languid as a jungle cat. This strange place seemed to be his element. He sprawled confidently over the antique wood, allowing his eyes to rove over her young flesh. His gaze never softened, though. He stared at her with a predatory intensity.
“Still,” he said, after a while, “you shouldn’t test me. There are far worse things than a whipping.”
“There’s nothing worse than this.”
“Quiet,” he snapped, sharp enough that she jumped. Moving with agonizing slowness, Knight stood and stretched. He stalked towards her, circling her like a lion circles its prey. Without warning his hand shot out, cupped her sex. Alice gasped, flinching helpless against her bonds. His fingers were cool and hard, and they manipulated her mercilessly while she squirmed.
“I need to break you,” his fingers slipped over her sex, parting the lips easily, “this is insufferable. You’ll be much happier when you can stop pretending and enjoy your position.”
Alice flushed bright red, mewling a little as his finger dipped past the outer folds and into her slit. To her horror she felt heat creeping through her. Her treacherous body leapt at his touch, made worse by the damp heat of the greenhouse. Her pert nipples tingled as they stood up, and she could hardly breathe. She heard Vic snicker behind her and winced, suddenly feeling their eyes on her.
His finger slid out of her, and he looked over her shoulder at the two vampires still waiting. Alice would have given anything to die at that moment, but all she could do was stand there with eyes gleaming, trying desperately not to cry. The shame of being touched by her ‘master’ was bad enough, but in front of these other two it was agony.
Something about her expression wiped the smile off Knight’s face, where all of her other crying had done nothing. If his eyes hadn’t still burned with desire, he might have almost looked sorry. He rounded on Sig, “Give me that, you’re dismissed.”
“Yes sir.” Vic was grinning, but Sig merely passed the leash to Knight and turned, stalking out.
The moment they were gone Alice breathed out a sob, shaking. She wanted desperately to tell Knight what they’d done to her, but something stopped her, some secretive fear. This was at least one thing she could keep secret from him, even if he took everything else. She hoped the two servants would betray him in as many ways as possible.
Knight was standing, surprisingly quiet, letting his eyes take in every exposed inch of her flesh.
“I think I missed you,” his voice was raw. “Come.” Any tenderness in the statement was destroyed when he jerked hard on the leash, yanking her forward against him. Immediately she could feel that he was cool, even in this sweltering heat. The contact of her fever-hot flesh against the marble smoothness of his skin made her shiver. She convulsed, trying instinctively to get away.
“Stop moving.” His hand came up and tangled through her hair. Alice cried out and writhed, but he tugged hard until she subsided, whimpering like a puppy grabbed by the scruff. She flinched when his lips pressed soft to her flesh. Slowly, cool and smooth, Knights tongue slid over the skin of her throat.
“Today I’ll break you, Alice, but I can’t concentrate when your blood runs so hot...” She felt the teasing scrape of one needle sharp fang, catching at her skin.
“Please, Gabriel,” her words had abandoned her, and all that was left was his gleaming tooth pressing into her neck, and the adrenaline-fueled desperation of a prey animal. She would have done anything to escape, at that moment, but all her crying and twisting did nothing. He even seemed to enjoy it, letting the needle tips dent her pearly skin and just holding her, on the point of drinking.
In a jolt the fangs pierced her throat, followed by a blaze of agony. But this time the pain barely lasted an instant, forming a crystalline agony that snaked through her before passing. Then the familiar, hot flush of desire came. It crawled along her veins, prickled over her skin, incandescent. Her chest heaved as he drank, deeper and longer than the last time. An unnatural heat was rising in her belly, flushing the lips of her slit and making her exquisitely aware of where the harness bound her. The straps that squeezed her ass cheeks apart and tugged at the skin to either side of her moist slit seemed to grow tighter, biting at the most secret part of her.
When he broke away she hardly felt it, until he licked at her peaked right nipple, a sensation as hot and wet as if her whole body had been submerged in a bath. She might have shrieked. She definitely did when his other hand caught hold of her left nipple and twisted - a point of pain to match the glorious pleasure of his tongue on her other breast.
For a long time he teased her, sometimes stroking, licking soft, and sometimes raking her flesh with the points of his fangs. His hands cuppe
d the soft flesh of her breasts, kneading as he tortured them with his tongue and fingertips. Now his fingers were almost unbearably hot, as they had been last night. Knight’s heat was fuelled by blood – her blood. Alice could only tremble in against his searing flesh, trying not to cry out. The pleasure made her ache, and mingled with the delicious little stabs of pain to form something deeper and hotter. Soon her whole self was boiled away, reduced down to her writhing body. It was hard to believe that only two days ago she’d been a competent young woman, with her whole life ahead of her. A soft moan slipped past her lips, though she tried to choke it back.
When she felt his cock grinding against her hip through the fabric she horrified herself by rubbing against it, desperate as a cat in heat. The warm haze of his feeding mingled with the damp air, the scent of orchids. She ground against him, mewling, not caring that he would know what a slut she was. Knight was moaning too but she could barely hear it. There was only the furnace heat of his body. The harness pulled at her skin as he dragged her to the chair and forced her down onto it, manipulating her warm, pliant body until he lay on top of her. He crushed her down in a way that she tried desperately not to enjoy, but the sheer power of his hard muscles was irresistible.
His rough hands slipped over the damp skin of her thighs, forcing them apart to expose the glistening crevice between. He’d already opened his pants, and now the rigid tip of his cock rubbed against the liquid center of her pleasure. She realized with dim horror that she was wet for him, so wet that the secret juncture of her thighs was spilling hot trickles down her leg.
Please, no, stop, she tried to say, but all that came out was a whimper of desire. Her back arched, thrusting her hips toward the caressing tip of his cock.
He thrust. His cock was thick, hard, and hot as molten steel, surging into her paralyzed body. It speared into her slit so roughly and suddenly that she screamed, thrashing against him. Her hands twisted uselessly at her sides, fighting against the binding cuffs.
“Lie still, slave,” Knight growled, his voice raw with desire.