The Scientific Method: A Vampire Queen Novel (Vampire Queen Series Book 10) Page 13

  "So what part is this?" he said. "Until you remember, I can't move on to another part."

  She managed a half laugh. "Mastoid process. Lowest...point of the temporal lobe."

  "Hmm. No." He dropped a hand down between her legs, cupped her, pressed his fingers against her, making her moan. "Try again."

  She fought through the haze of lust, realized the simple mistake. "Bone," she managed in a strangled voice. "Lowest point of the temporal bone."

  "Correct. And this?" He moved to the side of her throat, his fangs grazing the muscle the turn of her head had made prominent, a long, slender cord.

  "SCM."

  "Full name." It was a gentle order, but he nipped her. Her headache did seem to be lessening, though she was fairly certain it wasn't the anatomy lesson doing the trick.

  "Sternocleidomastoid muscle. Because it attaches sternum... clavicle... and mastoid process." She had to swallow another desperate chuckle as he followed her explanation, laying a moist kiss on her sternum, clavicle and back up beneath her ear again. "Brian..."

  He stilled at her whisper, but then resumed, his kisses slower, longer, the pressure holding, such that she could feel the shell over her heart cracking, those openings growing wider, willing her to invite him in, grip that vital organ in his hand and know that it was all his, whatever he wanted to do to it. This was insane.

  "No, it's not. What I've been allowing us to be these past few years; that was insane. When we could have...this." He nuzzled her clavicle again. "You're so delicate. So...breakable."

  The note in his voice made her look up at him, touch his face. He lifted his head to study her. "If I'd lost you that night, with Gideon...I'm not sure if I could have looked at anything in life the same way, Debra."

  "Don't. I can't...not after tonight. Not right now."

  After a pregnant pause, he nodded, bent his head again. "We'll revisit that later, then." He dropped a kiss in the hollow of her throat.

  "Manubrium."

  He smiled against her flesh. She slid her fingers through his hair, even as she tugged his shirt off one shoulder, cupped the broad, smooth expanse. She slid the knuckles of her other hand over the firm ridges of his stomach.

  "Rectus abdominis," she whispered. He was kissing his way down her sternum, tiny brushes of tongue and lips, a quick suction that had her moving in sinuous response. He kept on his downward track, mouth on her upper abdomen. Lower. Then, just when she thought he'd keep going past her pubic mound to her damp core, he moved over to her hip bone and upper thigh.

  What area am I covering, sweet servant? From ear to pubis...to legs...I don't intend to miss a single inch.

  She was going to turn to flame, burn to ash right here. Her headache was gone. "Superficial front line. Connective tissue...from toes, front of legs to ASIS, the protrusion of pelvic bone...then from there to the pubic bone..."

  She arched up as his mouth went back there, just above her clit. He traced the crescent of her mound, nipping at her with his lips, a fang.

  "Spread your legs for me, Debra. Wide."

  He spoke against her flesh, and when she complied, he settled himself between her legs, elbows on either side of her hips.

  His mouth went back to her rectus abdominis, which was firm and flat. Servants as well as vampires pursued a rigorous schedule of hand-to-hand and weaponry training, for the world they inhabited could be dangerous, but even with that, her stomach didn't have the sectioned definition his did. It was ironic that female servants had to work twice as hard to build up the muscle layers the male servants did, with even more ease than their human counterpoints.

  Because the gods know male vampires like their women softer to the touch.

  He moved from there back up the three parts of the sternal bone — xiphoid process, sternal body, manubrium — God. She lifted her chin to let him lick and play with that sensitive hollow in her throat, then he was back over the SCM to the mastoid process again. That wonderfully sectioned stomach was firmly against her core, and she wanted to writhe, mark him with her wet folds.

  "Sure you don't want to cover the reproductive system?" she breathed. He chuckled, a masculine caress against her ear.

  "I plan to cover it." He bit her ear lobe. "Explore it, penetrate it. Fuck you into oblivion."

  "Okay." She closed her eyes. Thank you. All of it was going away except him, and she didn't have the strength to be afraid of that.

  He lifted her up to turn her on her stomach, and worked back down from the nape, the spine.

  "Keep your legs spread wide."

  She quivered at that, obeyed. When he reached her buttocks, he adjusted himself so his elbows were braced outside her thighs. He cupped her ass, thumbs spreading her cheeks, and put his mouth on her rim.

  "God..." She was so sensitive there and he knew it. She fisted the sheets in both hands, looking for anything to anchor herself.

  I'm your anchor. "Lift your hands above the bedding, palms flat, fingers open. No moving your hips." Your Master wants you very, very still.

  It was impossible, her body making convulsive jerks as he licked and thrust his tongue inside her, strong hands holding her spread wide. She pleaded with him, she knew not for what, but she knew his intent was to completely exhaust her.

  You mistake me, servant. My intent is to pleasure myself with your response.

  A tart ripple went through her at the ruthless note to his mind voice. Lifting her up onto her knees, he put his mouth between her legs. And the orgasm hit her out of left field.

  There was no warning, no time to ask, nothing, but she knew he'd planned it that way. She had no control of her body, so her hands were back on the bed, fingers clutching the covers as the climax rocked her, the petals of her sex slick against his mouth, the tissues spasming so she felt their movement against his firm lips. Turning her over with that vampire quickness, so her climax didn't experience even a hitch, he opened his slacks and sunk himself inside her, shoving her up to another pinnacle.

  He was hard and thick, stretching her vibrating tissues, goading her aftershocks to higher levels. He withdrew enough to stroke through the wetness of her outer labia with the head of his cock, coy thrusts that had her moving against him still. He pushed back into her, held her on his loins, his gaze pinning her as he set an easy rhythm.

  He was diabolical. Despite the fact she was just coming off one climax, she wanted to take that flight with him, again and again. His maddeningly even pacing drove her into an intense, emotional arousal, one that wrapped around her, held her in sensual paralysis. He bent his head, kissed and bit her throat, her sternum, curled his fingers in her hair and tugged. She arched and lifted her hips, taking him deeper, and felt arousal uncurl again.

  He didn't alter his pace or patience until she shuddered to a second conclusion under the grip of his hands. She gazed up at him, wild-eyed, her fingernails digging into his back, his waist, his name on her lips.

  "Please, Master. Come for me."

  He gave her a nod, his gaze like the swirling gray-green clouds of an impending storm. His jaw tightened, then all those pleasing muscles shifted against her, hips flexing under her crossed calves.

  "Yes...please," she pleaded.

  He let himself go then, gentleness and patience gone. Levering up her hips with bruising hands on her buttocks, he thrust into her harder. She wished those bruises wouldn't heal so quickly, so she could see them in the light of day. She liked any mark he left on her.

  I'd mark you head to toe if I could.

  "You have," she whispered as he brought his full weight down on her, curved his arms around her head while she curved hers over his back, hooked her hands on his shoulders so she could press her face close to his throat, feel his heart beat and the crashing pulse.

  Even when he came down from that crest, he kept holding her close. He adjusted to the side, turned her to him, holding her in place with one proprietary hand cupped over her ass, the other over the back of her neck. They fell asleep that way, his breath
stirring her hair, teasing the shell of her ear, her hands clutching his biceps.

  §

  Sometime during that sleep, they adjusted, so when she woke, she found she was curled in the curve of his body, his genitals against her buttocks, his chest against her back. It was around eight in the morning, her internal clock warning her she needed to get up and begin to prepare. Brian was in that sleep that sunrise inflicted upon him, and didn't stir as she held onto his arm wrapped over her, using it to help her turn over and look at him.

  It was a difficult shelter to leave, but she knew her responsibilities. Plus she needed the bracing reminder of her usual routine. Brian had been kind to let her sleep with him. That quiet lovemaking, the playful anatomy lesson, was a balm on her raw heart, but she couldn't afford to forget his indulgences and kindnesses were entirely on his own sufferance. He was the vampire, she was the servant. She couldn't get in the habit of expecting such treatment, no matter his stated intent to make things different.

  Why not?

  She silenced her sullen inner voice, the one that Brian's change in behavior had sparked. Brian had said he loved her. In the privacy of their shared minds, the physical moments they alone shared, that could all be well and good, but as good as it felt, she wasn't going to let herself get carried away with it. As she'd told Jacob, in the end, love didn't mean the same thing to vampires.

  Though she had to admit, for the past few days, he'd not only lived up to her hopes, but surpassed them. In the end, that could be more dangerous to her than no change at all.

  No. She couldn't think that way. It was only dangerous if she opened herself up too widely to possibilities that were likely futile.

  Accept what is, expect nothing different. And definitely, always, live in the moment.

  She touched his face. Eventually, he would reach an age where he wouldn't sleep as deeply once sunrise happened. There were pros and cons to that. Good, in that he could touch her mind later in the morning when questions cropped up and she wanted to bounce ideas off him. Bad, in that she couldn't have the opportunity to do this, simply touch him and know she was doing something only a full servant had the right and ability to do, watching over her Master as he slept.

  Suppressing a sigh, she slid out of the bed, did a quick run through the shower, got dressed. Despite her gratitude for the extra sleep, she knew they needed to maximize their time here. She'd lost vital hours toward preparing for that. In addition to their research needs, she also had to address the things all servants coordinated for their Master or Mistress in a guest household. She needed to introduce herself one-on-one to Butch's servant, Dix Conner, and visit the rest of the household staff to determine the set up for caring for her Master's needs. That included finding out the daily schedule, to ensure they were courteous guests.

  Like most vampires, Brian assumed his servant would handle such matters, though fortunately he was far less demanding in that regard. Most of his needs in any new environment related to his working conditions, which meshed with her own requirements, since her primary role was working alongside of him.

  Part one of her plan, introducing herself to Butch's servant, would have to wait. The housekeeper told her Dix was out in the pastures with the other hands, moving cattle. Definitely a far cry from servant responsibilities at the Council estate, though Jacob did pitch in on home maintenance and landscaping at times, because he had skills in that area and enjoyed exercising them.

  The only other high level servant she knew who was employed in that type of labor was Dev, Debra's second favorite servant in the whole world. His Mistress, Lady Daniela, lived in Western Australia, on a sheep farm with thousands of acres. Dev was often gone during the day or out working on the compound. When Brian and Debra had visited them there, Dev had taken her to see the sheep one morning, let her witness a shearing. He'd twirled a sheep on her hips like she was dancing with him. Dev divested her of her coat so quickly it was no more than a trip to the barber shop to the animal, sent back out to pasture with a new, cooler haircut.

  Since Dix wasn't available, she went in search of the housekeeper. Yolanda, a quiet Mexican woman with expressive dark eyes and a mouth set in a straight line, was also the cook, so she provided Debra the necessary information about dinner plans. "We're expecting six of them tonight, including Lord Brian and Butch. We'll set up in the main dining room."

  Four vampires other than Butch and Brian. Not a large number, not by Council standards. It should have quelled the tension in her stomach, but she hadn't yet heard the guest list. Maybe the one she feared wasn't on it. A vampire didn't reach overlord status without being a force to be reckoned with, but Butch didn't seem overly hung up on formality. When Brian had introduced her last night and she'd bowed with a respectful "my lord", the gray-eyed vampire who looked like he could wrestle bulls to the ground had chuckled.

  "Just call me Butch, miss. Lord Butch just doesn't have the right ring to it. And while my given name Caleb works well enough, barely anyone calls me that, so I wouldn't even know to be listening for it."

  "Who will be in attendance?" She tried to sound casual, but when Yolanda glanced down, Debra realized she'd clenched the fingers of her right hand into a ball.

  "Just three vampires from his territory, senorita. Plus Lord Graham, the California overlord."

  Her nails cut into her palm, drawing blood. "Thank you," she said. Yolanda gave her a quizzical look, but Debra nodded and withdrew. As she moved back through the halls toward the study Butch had given them to set up for their work, she realized her shoulders were tense as a board and she was hesitating at corners or when passing closed doors. It was broad daylight. Damn it, she should be past this rabbit-like behavior when it came to Lord Graham. Or any vampire. Vampires were always unpredictable. Any sensible servant eschewed overfamiliar behavior with them, even if they seemed eminently approachable, like Butch Dorn. But she admitted she'd liked him on sight, whereas she'd been repulsed by Lord Graham from the first time they'd met.

  It had been at her first Vampire Gathering. He'd latched onto her inexperience, her discomfort with all of it. Brian's status then had been far less, and Graham was significantly older, around four hundred fifty. Strength grew with a vampire's age, and might equaled right in the vampire world. A visiting vampire with seniority and greater strength could avail himself of the servant of a lower ranking vampire. However, most vampires observed an unspoken courtesy, only enjoying the pleasures of that servant where the servant stayed in view of, and essentially under the command, of the Master or Mistress. The exception at Gatherings were the lowest echelon servants who were recruited to be valets, wait staff and domestics for the duration of the event. Fortunately, Debra had avoided that. Mostly.

  Lord Graham had cornered her in a hallway of the estate where the Gathering was held. He'd stopped her with a casual wave, his gaze sweeping over her.

  "A pretty young thing. Lord Brian's servant. New to all this, aren't you? Your first Gathering?"

  "Yes, my lord."

  When he reached out toward her, she'd jumped, unable to help herself. He'd chuckled. "A little nervous. Nervousness implies resistance, and your job isn't to resist, is it?"

  He'd waited patiently for her dutiful "No, my lord." Then he'd drawn her to him. She'd been holding an armful of files from the Council archives she'd intended to scan to digital media, but he had her set those on the floor. Then he pulled open her blouse with as much subtlety as a punch in the face. Most vampires enjoyed arousing a servant, which initially had been one of the hardest things for her to handle at these events, since she'd felt she was betraying her loyalty to Brian. She didn't have that worry with Lord Graham. Her skin crawled at his touch.

  Tearing the front joining point of her bra, careless of the expense of the garment, he'd fondled and squeezed her breasts as if considering the selections of a fruit bowl. She'd stiffened, almost drawing away, but she'd stopped herself. Not quickly enough. He'd noticed.

  Graham was her first experience
with a vampire with an overdeveloped sadistic streak. He enjoyed "initiating" new servants, exploiting their inexperience like a Viking raider taking a virgin. Since Debra had never been able to find a consistent level of comfort with such things, every time they met, it was like she was new candy to him once more.

  That horrible day, he'd stood in the hall, making her stay still as he pinched her nipples to hardness, kept playing with them. During a Gathering, the meeting locale was filled to overflowing with other servants and vampires, so the eyes of passersby were upon her. Several vampires stopped to talk with him. She was revolted, but averted her gaze to the open space past his shoulder. Enduring.

  "None of that." He pinched her roughly enough to earn a gasp, her eyes snapping back to him. "You keep your entire focus on the vampire you're serving, girl. While keeping your gaze at my feet." He leaned in, his breath on her ear. "I can tell when you're paying attention."

  He'd had her pick up the files a few minutes later, but he hadn't dismissed her as she'd hoped. He'd taken her off to a side hall, out of the flow of foot traffic. It quickly became obvious he removed them to the quieter spot for his own concentration, not to spare her any humiliation. Pushing her to her knees, he made her keep the files on her thighs, her hands locked on them like a form of restraints. Then he shoved his cock in her mouth and made her service it until he jetted. When he did, he pulled out, spilled himself on her face and her breasts, splattering the files.

  Zipping up, he patted her on the head like a cocker spaniel and nodded. "I'll look forward to seeing you again." He said it almost kindly, but she saw the avarice in his eyes. "You're a sweet morsel."

  She'd struggled to her feet after he left, mopped her face with her torn blouse, then gone back to the wing of the lab where Brian wasn't. She'd thrown up a couple times, scrubbed off with topical until she gave herself a rash, and scanned the files into the database before she threw the copies away.

  Up until that time, she and Brian had spent so much time traveling, she hadn't had to experience many interactions with other vampires, and certainly nothing like that. As a result, she lived in terror of a future encounter, and especially of the next Gathering. Fortunately, Graham wasn't in attendance at the next one. But Lady Lyssa and Jacob were.