How to Discipline Your Vampire by Mina Vaughn Read Free Book Online

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    “Tell me about your other Dommes, and how they didn’t satisfy your need for redemption,” I said, testing him.
    He began drawing on my thighs with the vibrator, almost writing out his answers on my skin. His gaze was intense—I could see he wanted to do his job thoroughly. “I could never call any of those women my Domme,” he said, trying to ignite my body with his eyes. “They never gave me the chance. They weren’t as brave as you.”
    “I find it hard to believe your charms didn’t make them melt,” I purred. “You have me rapt. It’s not just your vampire powers, you know.” I arched my back, urging him to proceed with the small vibrating object in his long fingers.
    So. Long.
    He moved the Bullet to the apex of my legs and I shuddered. He spoke again. “What do you see in me?” he asked. I bit my lip and considered my answer.
    He slid the vibrator up and down me like a paintbrush. I could barely keep myself together. He was an artist.
    “You’re intelligent and well-spoken,” I said between gasps. “I need a man who can keep up with my voracious intellectual cravings.”
    “Do you have any . . . other cravings?” he asked, and made a motion to remove my panties.
    Thank God my vagina had only lips and no vocal cords. She would have completely given me away. “Remove my clothing, William. All of it,” I commanded sharply.
    Pinching the ribbons on either side of my thong, he unraveled the bows and slid the garment down my legs slowly, eyes memorizing each inch of my skin.
    I spread my legs, displaying the prize he was working for. “Make me come, vampire.”
    He smiled devilishly, and for a moment, he looked more vamp than human. He was too beautiful, and his indigo eyes were too shadowy and dangerous.
    “My pleasure,” he said, and went promptly to work. This time, his left hand used the feather, and his right used the vibrator.
    He hovered over me, a dark demigod. He used his instruments on me and made my body positively sing. I bit down hard on my lip as I came, nearly drawing blood. Which would have been a bad idea.
    My body shouted William, every part. My mind was utterly consumed by the tickling feather, the impossibly fast vibrations, and the eyes that seared so deep they could leave scorch marks.
    My chest heaved for a moment, and I tried futilely to control my breath. I sat up smoothly, and asked him to kneel on the floor.
    I stood over him, naked. He looked up at me reverently, but did not speak. Good.
    “The scene is over. You have pleased me very much today,” I said, and raked my nails through his hair, gripping the ends slightly as I enjoyed the smooth texture. For a moment, I considered pushing his face between my legs, but I decided to wait. “My good boy deserves a treat,” I teased, still unsmiling. “What would you like from your mistress?”
    I was prepared to give him anything he asked for, and Bizzy sure as hell was hoping to see some more of his delicious body. Hell, any of his body.
    “I do have one request, Mistress Cherry,” he breathed.
    I waited.
    “I’d like for you to keep me,” he said quietly, voice somber and almost childlike. His expression had changed. He . . . softened. Suddenly, all the refusals he had faced by other Dommes were physically visible on his face. It was as though they had each tattooed REJECTION across his lovely countenance.
    I straightened my posture proudly, and cupped his face in my hand. “As long as you serve me properly, I will take care of you,” I said, dodging his answer slightly, but still praising his performance. He leaned into my gesture.
    It was true, though. The laymen out there think that Dommes are just about power—about making men feel lower. Nothing could be further from the truth. A good Domme cares for her submissive—it is a beneficial relationship for both, if done right.
    But nobody had been right for me. Every man thus far had been too selfish, or too self-deprecating, or too needy, or