Authors: Annalynne Russo
Blood and Bondage (12 page)
But it wasn’t only the mind-blowing sex they’d
shared. The emotions Oliver brought out of her had been buried deep. With him,
she felt safe, yet vulnerable. Powerful, but not quite strong enough to make
him bend to her will. He made her feel things she hadn’t experienced in
centuries, the consequences of which forced her to re-think the course of her
life.
On the outside, Anaïs’s outer shell was as hard
as nails. Inside proved to be a whole different story. In fact, she was an
emotional wreck. Preying on men, especially those who reminded her of her
loathsome patriarch, had become a coping mechanism, a twisted method she’d
employed to ensure that no one ever got too close. It was a character flaw, she
knew, but one she couldn’t cut loose.
Somehow, Oliver had begun to break down the
barriers she’d built. He pushed the boundaries, threatening to breach her stone
cold heart. Day after day, he demolished the walls that took lifetimes to
construct. The ones that kept people out and that attacked those who dare tried
to bridge them.
Again, Anaïs’s instincts told her she should
flee. Get away from Oliver before things got out of hand. With her departure,
back into the shadows as well. At least, that’s what her head told her she
should do. Her heart, on the other hand, nagged at her to stay, face her demons,
and see how everything would turn out with Oliver.
Run, you coward, Anaïs screamed to herself.
The words reverberated in her head the moment
Anaïs heard Bobby’s girlfriends exit the bathroom stalls. She stared into the
mirror and smiled back at them, shattering the myth that vampires had no
reflection. Then she grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser to dry the
dripping water from her cheeks, and stepped out of the way to let them use the
sink.
“You okay? You look a little pale,”
the back of her hand to Anaïs’s forehead.
“Sis, leave her be,” Sienna said as she swatted
her sibling’s hand from the vampire’s face. “Can’t you tell she’s just trying
to get her bearings? After the show the two of them put on out there, she needs
a few minutes to settle back down.”
“Sienna’s right. But thanks for the concern,”
Anaïs said while she smoothed down the frazzled curls that sprang from her
scalp. Then she undid the zipper above her right hip and took out the vial of
lip gloss she’d kept hidden there. She applied a thin sheen to her lips, then
shoved the tube back into her pocket.
At the same time, Anaïs felt her cell phone vibrate.
She pulled it out and glanced at the display. Oliver had sent her a text
message.
Ha! He can’t stand being away from me for long.
“Speak of the devil,” Anaïs said with a shake of
her head. “Oliver just sent me a text. He wants me to meet him in some room.
Have either of you heard anything about the Tunnel of Torture?”
“Oh, kinky. But I’m not surprised after what we
witnessed before.”
Sienna shot her sister an irritated scowl, the
shoved her to the side with a slight push of the hand. It was clear,
diarrhea of the mouth and it annoyed the hell out of her twin.
“Let me apologize for my sister’s insensitivity.
She’s a reporter. She’s used to cutting straight to the chase. The Tunnel of
Torture is one of three private rooms tucked into the back of the club. We’ve
never been inside. But if the rumors are true, some hard core masochistic shit
goes down within those four walls.”
“Really?” Again, Oliver was full of surprises.
His ingenuity never ceased to amaze her. “Okay, well it appears I might be tied
up for the next few hours. If I don’t see you gals later, it was nice meeting
you both.”
“Nice to meet you too, sweetie. I’m sure we’ll
see each other again soon.” Both women approached her. They wrapped their arms hesitantly
around her shoulders in an awkward sort of embrace. Anaïs’s body stiffened, not
prepared for the unsolicited contact perpetuated by the hug. Nonetheless, she
smiled and patted each woman on the head before they moved toward the door.
Upon exiting the restroom, the twins turned
right and disappeared back into the crowd. Anaïs went left into the dark
recesses of the club. At the end of a long, windy hallway, three doors stood
side by side. The one in the middle had the words Tunnel of Torture etched with
gold leaf in the center. Above the door knob, there was a keypad. A series of
digits needed to be entered in order to gain access to the room. Luckily,
Oliver had included the secret code in his text.
Anaïs punched in the numbers and heard the lock
click. She shoved open the door, which expanded into a small waiting room. A
table and chair had been set against the wall. Walking toward the table, she
noticed a piece of stationery placed on the edge. She picked up the page and
read the typed message.
Welcome to the Tunnel of Love.
Go inside. Then slip on the blindfold and chain
yourself up.
I’ll be there soon.
On the far side of the room, there was another
door. This one had been forged with solid, reinforced steel. If her theory
proved true, it’d be sound proof too. Her hands pushed against the heavy metal,
slowly forcing the door ajar until she could slide through the crevice she’d
made.
Once inside, Anaïs had to duck down and almost
crawl through the low-lying rock that served as a makeshift ceiling. It was made
of what appeared to be red desert rock, with shards of cone-shaped stalactites that
hung from above. Soon the tunnel unfurled into a spacious, torch lit cavern. Whips
and chains of all shapes and sizes dangled from hooks chiseled into the stone. A
twelve foot by fifteen foot wire cage sat in its center, with what appeared to
be an archaic guillotine perched inside it on the floor.
Her pussy clenched at the thought of what Oliver
would do to her, chained to the contraption with her thighs spread wide. Thinking
about it made her loins burn with the anticipation of his greedy, demanding
touch.
Anaïs straightened her posture. Then she unpeeled
the cat suit plastered to her skin and hurled it to the ground. She wore
nothing at all underneath, and the cool temperature in the room caused her
flesh to form goose bumps, including on the tips of her breasts.
As Anaïs moved within arm’s distance of the
cage, she saw a swath of red silk material fastened to its barbed wire entrance.
She untied the soft cloth and carried it with her inside, spying the guillotine
up close. It was made of deep, rich mahogany. Two curved pieces of wood had
been set at eye level, crafted to cradle a human’s delicate head. Above that, a
sharp blade was kept suspended in midair with the help of a heavy weight and
pulley system.
With this monstrous apparatus, Oliver could definitely
wear me out.
Anaïs stepped up to the guillotine and arranged
her body between the two rigid planks. In that position, the naked flesh of her
derrière was arched toward the ceiling as if it were being offered up as a
sacrifice to the gods. She slipped one wrist into an iron shackle, then used
the other to drape the blindfold over her eyes, and secure it at the back of
her head. Finally, she slid her second wrist into place and took a deep breath.
Minutes ticked by as she prepared herself for
Oliver’s arrival. The wait turned out to be pure torture. Anaïs’s nipples inadvertently
rubbed against the metal hardware that had been used to assemble the
contraption. The twin mounds dangled in the air, chafing their taut peaks with
each agonizing shift of her weight. The draft from the air conditioner whipped
across them too, causing a reaction to detonate inside her womb. Her clitoris
throbbed as the cooling system rattled and hummed. She wished she could reach
down and relieve the ache between her legs.
Damn it! That bastard better get here soon.
Chapter Fourteen
Tunnel of Torture
“I’m gonna step outside and take this call,”
Bobby said, staring at the screen on his cell phone. “It’s Andreas. Keep an eye
out for the twins, if you would.”
“Sure. Not a problem,” Oliver replied as he
stuck his hand behind him, cupping the back pocket of the jeans he wore in
search of his own phone.
Shit! The blasted thing was gone. He must’ve
dropped it while Anaïs had him distracted. Without a doubt, their sexual
escapade had rocked him to the core. But now wasn’t the time to reminisce. Pushing
the memory of the interlude to the back of his mind, he made a b-line through a
throng of bloodsuckers. Eventually, he found the spot where his lover had left
him tied up. He scanned the floor and felt around in the darkness, but came up
empty handed. He’d lost it; it was nowhere in sight. But who could blame him
for misplacing his cell phone? God knows, he’d been otherwise preoccupied.
Resigned
to the fact that’d it be difficult to locate the device in the dreary interior
of the club, Oliver strode back toward the table. In mid-stride, he inadvertently
bumped into
“Hello ladies,” he yelled over the sharp beats
of the music. He put his hand to his ear, gesturing that the vampire had left
to talk on the phone. “Bobby’s out front chatting to Andreas. Where’s Anaïs?”
The twins looked back and forth between them,
then
I’m almost positive she’s in one of the three private rooms in the back waiting
for you.”
Sexy little hints? What on earth was she talking
about? Before he could open his mouth to ask, he noticed a scuffle that had broken
out a short distance away. Two male vampires stood peering at one another, an
eerie red haze of anger surrounded them. Their broad, hulking chests stood
fluffed up, ready to battle for proper pecking order. A petite blonde with a pixie
haircut was flanked between them, trying to dissipate the tension.
“Let’s get you two to safety,” Oliver said,
ushering them toward the exit. “It looks like things are about to become a bit
precarious in here.” He escorted the twins to the door, throwing Bobby a silent
peace sign when he saw that the vampire was still engaged in conversation.
Oliver walked the perimeter of the night club,
doing his damnedest to look inconspicuous and avoid the confrontation that
brewed in the middle of the floor. Still, he felt a roomful of eyes focused on
his bare, oily chest and the wound Anaïs had left on his partially exposed throat.
She’d used her saliva to jump start the healing process. But the two pinpricks
that marred the flesh there still left a visible mark on his skin. The spiked
collar and leash around his neck didn’t help much to conceal it. Nonetheless,
he tried to ignore their blatant stares, while winding through the maze to the
far end of the building.
A few feet past the restrooms, there was a long
hallway. Oliver followed the elaborate pattern of twists and turns until he
came to three doors set in a row, one right after the other. Each room was
labeled with its own snazzy, sadomasochistic catch phrase: Tunnel of Torture, Sadist
Salon, and Bondage Boudoir, respectively. If only Oliver knew which one Anaïs
had ventured into.
After their public display earlier, it didn’t
seem entirely farfetched that Anaïs would invite him to partake in the pleasures
of the flesh inside one of the private suites. Still, he remained somewhat puzzled.
What sexy little hints had
up some charade to get the female vamp alone. It did, after all, seem a bit
fishy that Anaïs had disappeared at about the same time his cell phone came up
missing. Maybe it was more than a coincidence.
Nonetheless, Anaïs could certainly take care of
herself. She’d established that the other day with her attempt to flee the Four
Seasons Hotel. She’d knocked one of his men out cold, then stabbed Bobby in the
throat with the spike of her boot. If she got caught up in
shot at survival.
Thus far, Anaïs had turned out to be a
complicated patchwork, one Oliver yearned to unravel. He’d expected the vampire
to project certain innate characteristics common to her breed. Sharp as nails
wit and off the charts sensual prowess to name just two. But those were the
personality traits she wanted everyone to see. Deep down, she emanated warmth
and emotional sensitivity that as far as Oliver was concerned, no other
bloodsucker he’d met had ever possessed. Considering that Oliver had gone toe
to toe with hundreds of members of the undead race, that fact proved rather
impressive.
Anaïs had turned out to be something he hadn’t
expected. In all frankness, Oliver liked her. Both in and out of a bed. But at
that moment, his hormones had to take a back seat. He was worried for her
safety and needed to concentrate on pinpointing her exact location.
