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Captive of the Night, Everlasting Springs Book Two

“Mama doesn’t know we’ve met. My sisters and I are trying really hard to keep it that way. It’s difficult, you know. She has this thing, where she makes you talk.”

“I know. Yet, you told Amalia.” He stopped squeezing and started stroking my bottom instead, softly, as if he were petting a cat. I was ready to purr for him, if that was what he wanted.

“Well, Paul Arrow already knew... he stopped by to warn me to stay away from here.”

“And you didn’t listen to Paul or—more important—to me.”


Two heavy swats landed on my butt, but I got the feeling that Inigo was only playing with

me. After all, he could have painted my ass red in an instant, like he’d done the night before. I took advantage of my newly discovered ability to connect with the man, and peeked into his mind, sneaking in quietly this time, not to push but to pull. I wanted to read his thoughts, and was pleased by what I found there. Inigo was glad I’d come back. He was as hungry for me as I was for him. Though he struggled with doubts about the wisdom of satisfying his lust, he found it painful to resist me. He was only taking his time because he enjoyed the view of my body, prone, vulnerable, trapped under his grip, awaiting his discipline. I needed him to know I enjoyed it too.

“Inigo, can’t you just accept this is going to happen? My dream walking keeps leading me here. You and I should come together. I really want you and you really want me. I don’t know why you’re choosing to be difficult about this.”

Suddenly, Inigo unleashed a flurry of spanks sharper and hotter than he’d given me the night before. My ass was on fire and his iron grip upon my hip prevented me from wriggling even a little bit under the punishment. Soon I had crossed the line from pleasure to pain. I was weeping within seconds, then sobbing, my whole body shaking with it, the heat searing my butt as the tears dripped down my face. The real problem wasn’t the pain, though. It was how excited the spanking was making me. I was sure Inigo had seen the slickness of my desire spread down my inner thighs.

 

To add to my humiliation, when Inigo finally stopped, he stroked my drenched lips, until my whimpers turned from ache to lust. Soon, I was sighing for him instead.

Inigo, please. Stop teasing me and stop punishing both of us. Make love to me instead.

Stay out of my head, woman.
No.


“You’re such a bad girl.” Inigo went back to stroking my hot, throbbing butt with a gentle

palm. “Are you always this contrary, Azucena?” He sounded slightly amused, like a bad girl was exactly what he wanted. I could totally do that.

“Most people think I’m pleasant and friendly.”

“They don’t really see you, do they, darling?”

“Do you?”
“Yes.”

“What do you see, Inigo?”

 

He gripped my right buttock hard, which stung after the spanking, but also triggered a tightening at my core, a delicious ache deep in my womb. Inigo did a lot of that, blending pleasure and pain in just the right amount to keep me wanting more of both. It was addictive.

 

“I see a woman who is about to be very sorry she showed up at my door.”

 

I shrugged off the threat. “You already spanked me. I don’t see what more you could do.”

 

Inigo chuckled at that, running his palm along the curve of my ass and pinching the flesh at the joint of my back thigh. “You lack the experience to inform your imagination, beautiful.”

“Ouch!” But the pain only added fuel to the fire building between my legs. “I did nothing wrong.”

 

Inigo smacked my butt, the sharp slap that sounded like a ruler hitting a desk. “I decide when you do wrong, my dear. You may find, after I’m done with you, that you wished you’d never walked the dream path that led you here.”

“I don’t think so. Walking the dream path is what I do.”

Inigo released me from the grip of his legs, and swiftly set me back on my feet. He rose to tear the bed open, picked me up in his arms, then lay me on the mattress on my back. The instant my rear contacted the sheets, I was sorry, my flesh protesting painfully. But after a few seconds, the coolness of the fabric against my scorched bottom became soothing.

Inigo stripped naked as I watched. The lean and muscular torso I’d admired in the kitchen the night before looked even better in the soft light of the red lamps on either side of the bed. Inigo was as aroused as I was. I suffered a moment of hesitation when I saw his erection, but that quickly changed to excited eagerness. I needed to know how he felt inside of me. Being a virgin at twenty- three because every man I knew in town hesitated to give me anything more than a smile was more than a little annoying. It was downright inconvenient, and I was beyond ready for Inigo to satisfy the longing I’d lived with for far too long.

He crawled slowly toward me from the foot of the bed, opening my legs to place his head between them, parting and licking my lower lips. He briefly nipped my clit before digging his fangs into a tender spot on my inner thigh. I only felt a brief sting from the bite, and soon was awash in pleasure as he drank from me. Inigo’s touch worked magic on my pussy all the while, stroking my tender flesh. I gripped the pillows in my fists as he penetrated me with his fingers, pumping slowly inside while he continued to suck my blood. In moments, I was lightheaded, my breath hot and ragged, short plaintive pants interrupting a sigh. When he licked the punctures his fangs had made on my flesh, his saliva sealed the wounds and left a pleasurable warmth behind. I felt high. It was as if the healing itself released a drug into my bloodstream that brought me closer to orgasm. I moaned, needy, imploring him to fill me.

Inigo raised himself over me on the bed.

“You are addictive, my sweet Azucena.” He kissed my breasts, circling my nipples with the hard tip of his tongue. “A man could go mad drinking from you.”

“You’re more than a man,” I said with a sigh.

He grinned at that, showing me his extended fangs, like twin needles, tinted with my blood. More of my blood darkened his lips. Thin trails of it ran from the corners of his mouth onto his stubbled, pointed chin. Maybe I should have been frightened, or even disgusted, but seeing my life essence upon him intensified my arousal. It was a primal sensation, something my body recognized as ritual.

I was his sacrifice. My blood should nourish him.

“I am more than a man and you are more than a woman, belleza de mujer,” Inigo said, rising to kiss my chest and my neck. I thrilled at hearing him call me gorgeous.

While Vazquez women had a reputation of being attractive—even if the men of Everlasting avoided us like spotted water hemlock—I didn’t think I was the prettiest of my sisters, not by a long stretch. I often felt like the ugly duckling. By comparison, Consuelo was angelic, her glossy dark hair and fair skin perfectly complementing each other, her features seemingly sculpted by an artist to make her look as magical as she was.

Lola, for all her tomboyish camouflage, was a walking sex bomb, a perfect dirty blonde pin-up girl. When she wore overalls, she might as well have been wearing a negligee. But I was just pear shaped, with a big butt and a narrow torso. My chocolate hair often went rogue, my curls as whipped up as the winds inside me. It was wonderful to hear Inigo thought I was beautiful, particularly when he said the words with his deep, raspy voice and Spanish accent. The compliment touched me deeply, and all that mattered to me was that he thought I was perfect for him.

Inigo kissed my neck, his fangs retracting. I felt only a slight scratch as his tongue and lips caressed me. He trailed kisses under my jaw before finally bringing his lips to mine. His tongue explored me as his right hand gripped mine, his elbow resting on the mattress next to me. Inigo’s left hand trailed slowly down my side, from my underarms to my hips.

“I’m going to make you mine, Azucena. After this, there will be no other man. Do you understand?”

“It’s not like there’s a lot of competition,” I teased.
“This town is full of foolish men.” He smiled. “Lucky me.”
Then he lifted the hand that rested on my hip, bit into his wrist, and dripped his blood onto

my lips. “Drink, beautiful.”


I licked the drops of blood from my lips and extended my tongue to take the rest. His blood

was as bittersweet as a fine, dark chocolate laced with almond liqueur. My head spun with a pleasant high, unexpected heat coating my mouth and throat as I sampled the dark liquid.

Inigo licked the wound at his wrist closed, then took his hard shaft in hand, positioning himself at my entrance.

“Are you ready for me, precious?”
I nodded, smiling at him. “Por favor, Inigo de la Fuente. I need you.”


Inigo thrust gently, giving my body a chance to adapt to his girth before pushing deeper.

With a sharp intake of breath, I awakened to new pleasures, the thrilling sensation of being filled. His shaft eased further inside me, and the pleasure spread through my womb to the tips of my fingers and toes, even to the roots of my hair. His eyes, glowing blue, held mine captive. He took both my wrists in his hands, raising my arms above my head as his thrusts intensified. I wrapped my legs around his hips, giving him easier access. The delicious pounding of his cock against my cervix made me moan more loudly. I could only pant and mewl, a sheen of sweat beading upon

my chest as he dipped his head to my neck again. This time, he pierced my vein to drink my blood while thrusting deeper and harder.

Inigo brought his mouth to my mouth, and I tasted my blood on his tongue. It was tangy and spicy, but just as intoxicating as his. The combination of my blood with his, the possessive way his hands gripped my body, and his lips sucking on my hard nipples made me feel weightless and close to swooning. Inigo adjusted his rhythm, slowing down briefly before he plunged his fangs into my breast. There was no pain, only that pleasant sting again, my body almost electric with my arousal. Shocks ran through my flesh as my cells ignited, like static popping all over my skin.

I cried out his name as my vagina tightened around his shaft. Inigo increased the intensity of his thrusts, more waves of pleasure washing over me. I wanted to float in that sea of lust forever. A moan from deep in my belly escaped my lips. I gripped his hair with one hand and scratched his back with the other.

Inigo smiled at that.

Then he wrapped his arms around me and suddenly brought me off the bed. Both of us floated in the space between the mattress and the ceiling for a while, as he continued to make love to me in midair.

His arms held me aloft, my arms wrapped over his shoulders, my nails clinging to his flesh. My hair hung like a dark curtain as my head bent back to see the room spin around us. I tightened my legs around him, pulling my lover’s shaft deeper into me, as he brought us coupled with his back up against the ceiling. I clung to his shoulders and he gripped my hips as I hung upside down and rode his cock. My knees scraped the rough white surface of the popcorn ceiling, but I barely noticed the sting.

It was as glorious as it was bizarre. All the blood rushing to my head only enhanced the lustful drunkenness of our mating. I never worried that I might fall. I knew Inigo held me fast as his hands guided my hips. He would not let me go.

Suddenly, he spun us, pushing my back against the ceiling. My breasts pressed into his hard chest muscles. Inigo thrust harder, devouring my mouth under the cover of the curtain of my hair.

How is this possible?

This time, Inigo did not reprimand me for entering his mind. He welcomed me there in our intimacy.

Anything is possible for us, my love. Come for me.

Our orgasms shot through our bodies like lightning bolts, which sparked a wildfire in our connected minds. My sore bottom rubbed against the rough pebbled surface of the ceiling, scratching me as Inigo thrust wildly in his completion. But I didn’t mind. That ache blended with all the other sensations into something beyond pleasure or pain, transforming into pure ecstasy.

We descended slowly, our bodies still entwined as we kissed, nibbling on each other’s lips.

I landed gently, nestled against Inigo’s body on the mattress as we lay in an embrace, quietly pondering what had just passed between us. Inigo’s heartbeat was in step with mine for a while, then slowed dramatically as he relaxed, until my heart beat four times the speed of his.

“What happens now?” I asked finally.

“What would you like to happen, hermosa?” Inigo gently stroked my hair. The brush of his fingers against my scalp sent ripples of pleasure through me, raising all the little hairs on my body.

“I’d like to do that again soon,” I confessed, playing with the tuft of dark hair at the center of his broad chest.

“We can do that as often as you desire, but there is a price.”

“What is that?”
“Your freedom.”

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