CHAPTER 79: THE ISLAND

Shannon could not believe what was happening. Could. Not. Believe. Because, of course, she knew it was the work of a mind-magus and therefore all in her head. She closed her eyes and willed herself to wake up.

“Doesn’t work that way,” Tl'oghk'etnaeyen yawned. “I’m in control here.” He quirked a grin at her. “Unless, of course, you want to be.”

“You…” Shannon sputtered, at once thrilled, freaked out, and even a little turned on. She was so overwhelmed by so many emotions, in fact, that her brain was having trouble computing.

And then, as idly as if he were discussing the flavor of drinks, the feylord said, “I’ve always wondered what could be achieved with the well-placed suggestion that a girl orgasm. Repeatedly.” He glanced at her, green eyes twinkling, obviously enjoying this way too much.

“Oh don’t you dare,” Shannon gasped, blushing furiously.

“It would probably work pretty well,” he continued casually. “Helplessness—and you are helpless, don’t deny it—makes one more susceptible to suggestion.” He took a step closer. “It has to do with the mental submission of knowing you are totally and completely fucked…” He let her chew on that. “…if I want you to be.”

Mental…submission? Her heart started to pound out of control and she almost backed away from him. Almost. Instead, she let indignity straighten her spine and rode it like a racehorse, knowing it was the only goddamn thing keeping her in control of this situation.

The feylord scoffed. “You’re not in control of this situation.”

“Oh yeah?” Shannon demanded, stepping forward and poking him in the chest with her riding crop. “Don’t be so cocky. You said you like to be dominated.” She slapped the crop harder against his chest, making him flinch. “You act tough, but I bet I could have you shooting your load without even touching you, you kinky leaf-colored freak.”

He looked up slowly from where the leather flap squished his nipple under the fancy yellow silk. “Deal.”

Seeing his intensity, Shannon coughed and, blushing, backtracked hastily, “Um, okay, maybe someday.”

“So I’ll be top first?” He sounded disappointed.

Her words died in her throat, caught between heat, thrill, and terror. “Um…”

Thoughtfully, he said, “So…is penetration on the table?”

Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. “No, it’s not on the table!” Shannon cried. Just the idea of getting naked with someone was almost enough to make her puke. Her heartrate was already starting to climb from the unwanted thought of being naked with another, and her palms were getting sweaty on her riding crop.

Tl'oghk'etnaeyen looked her over, thoughtfulness in his vibrant emerald eyes. His gaze stopped on where her she was gripping the crop, white-knuckled. When his eyes returned to her face, there was compassion there. “You know, I might actually be able to help with that.” He gestured at their surroundings and winked at her. “Considering.”

Which meant, instead of having her show up in a dominatrix outfit and him show up in a strange elfin suit, they could both be naked when he mind-kidnapped her. A pang of anxiety hit Shannon in a reflexive wash, just as it always had whenever anyone had mentioned exposing her to her ‘irrational’ fears. If anything, her fists tightened on the riding crop. “That’s okay,” she said. “I’m fine.”

Tl'oghk'etnaeyen gave her a long, sustained look before raising a single brow.

Seeing that he knew, and there wasn’t a goddamn thing she could do about it, and that, hell, he could make her face her fears, Shannon at once felt horrified—drenched in that old, unreasonable terror—while at the same time felt desperation bubbling up from within—she didn’t want to be afraid all the time, didn’t want to be crippled by it. She struggled with those two opposing forces for several long moments in silence. Then, in a whisper, “You really think you could help?”

The feylord looked her over, then gave a nod. “I’ll add it to my list.”

Shannon fought a little thrill of mingled fear and excitement. “Um.”

“So,” Tl'oghk'etnaeyen said, shifting his weight and continuing to look at her over crossed arms. “Which will it be for our very first experience together, vampire? Top or bottom?”

Realizing he was totally serious, Shannon flushed. “Okay, uh, you had your fun. You should probably take me back now.”

“It wouldn’t be a proper kidnapping fantasy if I took you back when you asked,” the feylord said, looking amused as he continued to watch her over his crossed arms. “Top or bottom?”

The pressure in her head was so intense that Shannon felt like her face was on fire. “Ummm…”

Tl'oghk'etnaeyen uncrossed his arms and, moving towards her, gently took the tip of the riding crop between thumb and forefinger, bringing it up between them as he examined it thoughtfully. When his vivid green eyes met hers, this close, Shannon felt her breath catch. “Of course, if you want to be on top, it should probably be in person.” His lips started to shift into a smile. “That way I can’t cheat.” And then, as the feylord tugged on the riding crop, sliding it out of her fist, it turned into a pair of handcuffs in his hand. He dangled them between him, grinning as her eyes widened, then cast them behind him, into the sand.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

“Top,” Shannon blurted, knowing that he’d have to let her go that way.

Tl'oghk'etnaeyen chuckled. “No, I don’t think so. The barghest is busy making an ass out of himself setting some expensive baubles on fire, and this is more fun.” He took a step closer, until their bodies were almost touching, his whole countenance almost vibrating with mischievousness. “I’ve been thinking about it,” he went on, reaching out and fiddling with a string of her corset, “and it occurs to me you’re much more likely to try to dominate me—thereby fulfilling my fantasies—if I fulfill yours first. Give you some incentive.” He cocked his head, grinning down at her. “Eye for an eye sort of thing. Know what I mean?” He gave the corset knot a gentle tug.

Shannon, whose pounding heart was trying to burst her own eardrums, knew exactly what he meant. “You wouldn’t dare.”

The feylord laughed. “My family abandoned me, I’m doomed to appear as a beast to every intelligent creature in every realm, and I’m probably going to be murdered within the next decade to make room for my brother’s ascension. One could say I don’t really have a lot to lose…” He tugged the string a little harder, threatening the knot…

Oh shit, Shannon’s startled mind babbled, I’m trapped in a mind-realm with a mind-magus and he’s about to do anything he wants to me… She felt her fear starting to rise, her thoughts and breath spiraling out of control.

Then, like a crystal gong scattering her fear, Masaaki’s voice rang out from one of her dozens of self-defense classes. Every man has an innate weakness, the samurai’s words barked at her. Use it, or face the consequences later.

Even as the feylord’s eyes were going wide as he no doubt caught the thought, Shannon’s fist lashed out and grabbed him by the nutsack through the pretty silk pants. Giving him no room to escape, she tightened her hand and yanked the taller man closer. “You were saying?”

The feylord blinked down at her like a startled deer, his whole body completely rigid, his fingers still gripping the string of her corset. He swallowed. With her free hand, Shannon reached up and pried his limp fingers off the string.

“We,” she said, putting a little more pressure into her grip on his balls, “are going to come to an understanding, girly-man. I’m about twenty times stronger than you and it’s actually harder for me not to make peanut-butter out of your testicles at the moment, considering you just tried to mind-rape me.”

“No, I—” The feylord tried to cringe away from her, but Shannon held him tight, forcing him to actually move closer or risk losing a nut. Groaning and crumpling over her, he managed, “Perhaps I misjudged your fantasy…”

“You didn’t misjudge anything,” Shannon bit out, grabbing him by the chin with her other hand and forcing him back to give her his attention again. “Except, of course, whether or not I was going to go along with your little game, mind-magus.”

“That’s generally what a kidnappee in a kidnap fantasy does…” he babbled.

“I don’t think so,” Shannon said. She spun them around and started backing up the beach, forcing him to waddle after her, hand still solidly gripping his ballsack.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Tl'oghk'etnaeyen was saying, “I didn’t think you’d react like—”

Shannon stopped, all but crushing his balls in a fist. “React like what, slave?”

Tl'oghk'etnaeyen, who was mid-word, choked as his mouth fell open and he stared at her.

“I mean, that is what you are, isn’t it?” Shannon demanded. “I dosed you with my poison, I’ve got your balls in my fist, hell, you said yourself you were part of my ‘harem’, so that means I can do whatever I want to you…right? Slave?”

Tl'oghk'etnaeyen remained speechless and staring, like something important in his brain was hemorrhaging.

“Come here,” Shannon gritted, starting to back up the beach again, giving him the option to follow along or lose testicles.

“Maybe we should just go back,” the feylord was saying amidst a nervous laugh as she forced him to shuffle after her. “This wasn’t exactly what I—”

“Oh no,” Shannon said, “you wanted this. You said so yourself. You wanted me to choose.”

“For later,” Tl'oghk'etnaeyen gasped. “It was for later. Our first time. Was just…ow fuck…teasing.”

“Yeah screw that. No time like the present.” Still holding the feylord by the balls, she squatted, found the handcuffs with her free hand, and stood. “You wanna be dominated, time to be dominated.”

Tl'oghk'etnaeyen saw what she had retrieved from the sand and his eyes went wide enough she could see the whites all around. The poor guy stopped breathing. Seeing how suddenly petrified he was, Shannon almost laughed.

“Turn around,” Shannon commanded, releasing his balls and gesturing for him to spin and give her his back.

Tl'oghk'etnaeyen stared at the sand-covered handcuffs, then swallowed. “I, uh…”

Shannon dangled the cuffs between them enticingly. “Now or never, green dude.”

Tl'oghk'etnaeyen’s mouth was hanging slightly open as he dragged his eyes from the cuffs and up to her face. She saw shock in his eyes, saw him trying to identify her motives.

Surprisingly, he hesitated only a moment before he did as commanded.

“Hands behind your back,” she barked.

Hastily, he did as he was told. And, even though she knew he could shift the cuffs back into a goddamn riding crop if he wanted to, she slapped the metal over his wrists. Then, with a harder-than-necessary shove, she drove him to his knees in the sand.

Tl'oghk'etnaeyen watched in silence as she stalked around him to get a better look at her prisoner. She held out a hand, palm up. “Ball-gag,” she said, snapping her fingers.

The mind-magus’s eyes widened again, but a moment later, a red ball and its requisite leather straps appeared in her hand.

“All right, you eloquent fucker,” she said. “It’s time I lay down some rules. Open your mouth.”

“But wouldn’t it be better if we discuss the rules before—” The feylord’s words came to a sudden halt at the dangerous look on her face and he gave a nervous laugh that kind of sounded like a squirrel’s titter. He swallowed, hard. Then he opened his mouth.

Shannon unceremoniously stuffed the gag between his teeth and tightened it at the back of his head, locking it in place with the buckle. Then, grabbing him by the shoulders and spinning him around, she shoved him to his back in the sand and climbed on top, straddling him like a horse.

“You ready for the rules?” she demanded, from her seat on his abdomen.

His pretty green eyes were wide as he nodded up at her.