Page 35 of Shadowbound

“You’re much bigger and stronger than me, Alaric.” She gives me a serious look. “I have my Shadows to protect me, but you also have magic stored in you now. I can’t be too careful with another magic wielder around—especially one as powerful as you are.”

“I’m not a magic wielder—I’m a Holy Warrior,” I say, but my voice lacks conviction.

“Come, you’re all worn out,” is her reply. “Let’s get something to eat and relax for a while. Then later, I’ll let you bathe me.”

My cock, which has been aching and leaking for what feels like hours, surges again. Gods, I want to put my hands on her! I want to cup those full breasts and roll her tight nipples between my fingers. I want to slide into her pussy and tease her sweet little clit…

“When can I bathe you?” I ask, my voice husky with need.

She gives me an amused glance.

“In good time.”

And with that, I have to be content. Because my Mistress still holds the cards—she has the key to the collar and the cockring and the Shadow Magic to hold me in check. I’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable…or so fucking hard and hot in my life.

I know she’s told me that I have a reservoir of magic now, but I’m not quite sure how to use it. It feels dangerous inside me—like having a cocked crossbow in my hands but not knowing which part of it is the trigger that might set it off.

These thoughts circle my mind as I pull on my trousers and follow her up the spiraling staircase with my cock still hard and my balls aching.

I wonder when she’s going to let me come?

17

Sylvanna

That night I let Alaric bathe me. I have to admit, I love his big hands on me. Despite his strength, he’s gentle and wary of hurting me—I think because all his life he’s had to be careful and worried about injuring anyone he touched or who touched him. That consideration and his hunger for me makes him an excellent attendant and I have to admit, I enjoy every minute of it.

“Gods, Mistress, your breasts are so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs as he holds me in his big hands and caresses the foaming soap over my full globes. I like the way he’s careful of my nipples—he teases them but he knows better than to twist or pinch too hard. Some women like that but I prefer to be handled with reverence and respect. My new Blood-servant is excellent at that.

Speaking of blood…I really could use some. My reserves are getting quite low, though my magical reservoir is overflowing from all the pleasure I’ve been taking from teasing and training my Paladin. I consider ordering him to bare his throat for me—the Collar of Control sits low, it wouldn’t be in the way of my fangs. But something stops me.

Once I take blood from him, the bond growing between us, which was started by the ritual I did the very first night, will be well and truly sealed. Meaning that when I let him go—as I know I eventually must do—it will pain me greatly. Even now, it would hurt me to release him but if I take his blood it will be agony. I don’t like that.

I still remember the hideous pain of tearing myself away from Kraven after we had sipped each other’s blood and sealed our Bond. It felt like being gutted with a dull blade and it took me months to recover. I’m not anxious to feel that way again. No, I decide, it’s probably better to just go take a sip from a willing peasant I have no connection with. There are a few who live in the lands around my tower.

At first they were frightened of me—and no wonder since my mother had the habit of catching and butchering stray travelers on a monthly basis to keep the tower fed with magic. But slowly, over the years, I’ve been able to teach them that I’m not my mother and I don’t keep her ways. Sometimes they even come to me now and beg for favors which they repay with a sip of blood or a basket of night-blooming tubers or whatever they can afford.

I encourage such encounters but I haven’t had one in a while. Which is why my throat is dry tonight. I look longingly at the blue vein pulsing under the skin of Alaric’s strong throat…and then look away again. The two of us are already drawing much closer than I would have dreamed possible in such a short time. I’m thirsty but I can wait—I don’t want to bind myself to him so tightly that I have to feel soul-crushing agony when we part.

After he bathes me thoroughly and washes my hair, we get out of the tub and I allow my Paladin to dry me off. Then I bring out the padded table I keep for such occasions. I arrange myself on it and allow him to rub me with scented oils.

His cock looks painfully hard as he smoothes the sweet-almond oil all over my naked body, paying special attention to my breasts and the place between my legs.

“Mistress, when can I taste you again?” he asks, as he rubs the oil into my inner thighs.

His big hands feel so warm and strong on me I’m tempted to let him do it right now. But I can’t give him everything he wants. There’s a real danger when taking a dominant man like Alaric as a Blood-servant that he’ll simply take over. I can’t allow that.

“Later, my Paladin,” I murmur.

“But when?” he persists. “What about a single kiss—just one kiss between your thighs?”

I turn my head and give him a stern look.

“That’s how you got into trouble in the first place and the reason your cock is so hard and you’re not allowed to come,” I remind him.

“Fuck,” he growls and sighs deeply. But he behaves himself and doesn’t try anything—that’s important. If he tried to taste me by force, I’d have to use my Shadows to hold him down and punish him—I wouldn’t like that.

Kraven sometimes “played” with me that way—testing his strength against mine and then claiming it was “just a joke” when I got upset if he held me down or tried to force me. I know now that he was gauging my power to see if he could Drain me or not. At the time, I was too stupid to realize what he was about, but my past with him has made me wary and cautious now.

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