I loooove it.
We head out to Club Toxic in my new Audi SUV. I wouldn’t let him get rid of my 4Runner, and it’s parked in one of our spots in the parking garage. I don’t know where we’re going to build or buy our Tucson house yet.
I don’t care. Dexter now owns this building, and we’ll be safe here.
It’s Saturday, and the line is down the block. But when we roll up, Theophilus is at the door. He smiles as he pulls the velvet rope back for us. “Look at you, Blondie. Good evening, Dexter.”
“Good evening, Theophilus,” Dexter says, shouldering the strap of the duffel bag over his shoulder. “She is ravishing, isn’t she?”
“Yes, sir. I take it the collar means she is your private property?”
“You take it right, and I will take the hand off anyone who tries to lay their hand on her.”
“Yes, sir. I donotblame you there.”
We head down to the dungeon, where Lucius immediately descends from his throne—jesusfuck that pretentious dude, anyway—to greet us.
“There’s the runaway. Looking ravishing, my dear.”
“Thank you, Mr. F.”
“Ah! You are his now. Iinsist.”
I glance up at Dexter, who finally nods.
“Thank you,Lucius,” I say.
His smile beams. “Now wasthatso difficult? May I?” He motions to my hand, and Dexter nods again.
I feel a trill of panic until I realize Lucius is just kissing my hand. “Lucky bastard,” he says to Dexter, shaking with him. Lucius motions to the dungeon. “Anywhere is yours, nephew.”
Of course, Dexter points to a St. Andrew’s cross that’s practically in the center of the room and right where Lucius can easily watch from his perch.
There are several sweetbloods and household humans down here, and several vampires. They all watch as Dexter takes my hand and leads me to the cross.
I was hoping for a little warm-up, a toe in the water, but we’re doing this.
Sure, I could safeword. He reminded me of that just before we arrived.
Except…I don’t want to.
I want this, and I want Dexter.
We don’t know if what I’ve done to him can wear off, so we’ve developed a ritual. I mark him, and he feeds off me, which makes us both come, and then we both collapse in a gooey, sticky heap, and happily sleep for hours.
I did ask if I could take my shoes off when we scene, though. I don’t want to break a fricking ankle.
Or a heel.
He moves an implement stand over and quickly takes items from his duffel bag and hangs them on it—crops, canes, floggers, a singletail whip, and a variety of other implements.
They’ve all tasted my flesh, except for the singletail.
He’s been saving that for tonight.
He also removes a set of leather cuffs and quickly buckles them on my wrists and ankles.
Then he smiles and kisses me, dipping his knees and catching the hem of my dress with his fingers, easing it up and over my head, leaving me standing there naked.
