Nadya/Nadia Ch. 02

The only place she hadn't searched was the bed. Leaving the light on, she cracked the bathroom door open. Night had fallen outside, and the room was dark. In the crack of light from the bathroom, she saw the rumpled covers of the bed hadn't moved, but failed to notice Elijah wasn't in bed anymore.

She opened the door slightly wider, hurried to the bed, and fell to her knees. She ran her fingers along the bed frame, then bent down further to look under the bed. There were some storage bins under the bed, but she couldn't reach them. She'd have to go around to the other side. His side.

Lights came on and strong arms dragged her from the floor to place her face down on the bed, bent at the waist, feet on the floor. "If you had so much extra energy to burn you should have woken me," Elijah said into her ear. "I can think of a much more satisfying way to burn off any excess energy you might have."

Elijah had already been awake when she'd moved his hand off her thigh. He'd watched, curious as to what she would do on her own. He wondered why she wasn't feeling sick when she was away from him, and was highly entertained as she systematically destroyed the room in search of something.

He'd gotten out of bed and pulled on some pajama pants when she went into the bathroom. He liked to watch the sunset over the lake from the little alcove she'd discovered. When it was dark, he turned away from the window and discovered her kneeling on the floor, ass in the air. He was instantly hard. He grabbed her and pinned her on the bed, ass up.

She struggled against him, but this wasn't her typical half-hearted struggling to get away. She was manic, and almost bucked him off her completely.

"Why would I tell you when I have energy?" she spat. "So you can take it? You did that to me once. I won't let you do it again."

This was not his enthralled butterfly.

This was a pissed off hell cat.

He'd fed deeply from Nadia the last two times hoping the other witch would show up. Leaning forward, he saw silver eyes and ebony hair. She caught him with a wild elbow to his throat as she twisted and bucked. He fell back, not really hurt, but taken off guard. She used his momentary distraction to rear up and throw the back of her skull into his face.

That actually did hurt.

She bucked again, threw him off her legs and spun in place to kick him in the chest with one booted foot. He grabbed at her as he fell, snagging her sweater, but she twisted out of his grasp. He fell to the floor, landing on his ass. Panting, she rolled off the other side of the bed and ran across the room to place the sofa and table between them.

"So, the fun one has finally decided to make an appearance," Elijah said. By the time he'd gotten to his feet and crossed the room she'd picked up a spoon from the empty food tray on the table and was holding it aimed at him like a sword. He arched an eyebrow at her. "A spoon? Really?"

"I can think of a few things I could do with a spoon that you wouldn't like. Give me the key to the door, and I won't show you how much a spoon in the wrong place can hurt," she ordered.

Elijah was suddenly glad they'd had stew for lunch rather than steak. He stalked her around the sofa and she matched her steps to his, always keeping them directly across from one another. He pretended to think about her offer. "No," he finally said, "that doesn't sound like fun at all to me. You're sure you're the fun one?"

"I'm the one that's going to get out of his place," she informed him. "Key! Now!"

"I can't keep calling you the fun one," Elijah said, still stalking her. The chase was actually fun for him. He'd never had to chase down a woman before, and the thought of pinning her down after he caught her was making him hard. "What's your name?"

When she didn't answer, Elijah raised an eyebrow. He stopped stalking her and held his hands up, in what he apparently considered a non-threatening manner. "What's your name?" he asked softly.

She still didn't say anything. She'd never had a name. You didn't need a name to live in a cage. Until the night she'd taken over and went to the club, she'd never talked to another person in her life. Nobody that night had asked her name. They'd called her names— prey, prada, little one, bitch. But not one of the men she'd talked to that night had asked her name; not even the one that had licked her to orgasm and taken her blood. Unexpectedly her eyes filled with tears.

Elijah watched the puzzle of a woman in front of him. She'd just gone from warrior princess ready to kill him with a spoon to sad little girl about to cry in two seconds, and he hadn't done anything to her. Were there three witches in one body? Gods help him. He thought for a moment— no, there weren't three of them. She'd been fine until he'd asked her name.

"You don't have a name, do you?" Elijah asked.

Her eyes angrily flashed silver, and the warrior was back. "It's none of your business."

"I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I think you should put the spoon down before someone gets hurt," Elijah said, trying to say it so it was a request rather than a command.

"I think I should put you down." She raised the spoon higher.

Elijah smirked at her bravado until something hard smacked him in the back of his head then shattered on the floor. As he fell to one knee, more stunned than hurt, he saw the broken glass on the floor. A lamp. She'd distracted him with a spoon and hit him in the head with a lamp thrown from across the room.

He started to get up, but when he moved he was hit with something heavy that glanced off his shoulder and thudded to the floor. One of the books from the reading alcove. Fortunately for him her aim wasn't very good. He started to rise again but was hit with another book. This time it hit him in the back of his neck, and it actually hurt.

"Those are first editions," he scolded her. "Be careful with them."

"Stay down," she ordered.

Elijah had never counted, but he guessed there were about sixty books in the alcove. He stayed down, raising only his gaze. She looked tired. She had a lot of ammunition, but he suspected she would tire herself out before she ran out of books. He didn't want her tired from throwing books at him. He wanted her tired from fucking and feeding him.

"Where's the key?" she demanded.

Elijah deliberately let his gaze drift to the nightstand, and when her eyes followed his he leapt over the sofa, tackling her to the floor. He caught her arm as she stabbed at his face with the handle of the spoon, then flipped her over onto her stomach and straddled her. Seating all his weight on her hips, he held her down as he ripped her sweater over her head leaving it tangled around her arms. He tore her t-shirt up the back, then at the strap of her bra until he bared her back to him. Pushing her shoulders into the floor to hold her still, he let their skin to skin contact start to work on her.

"Calm, my pet," he murmured to her. "There's no need for you to go anywhere. We will have only pleasure between us." He ran his hands over her shoulders, joining his hands at her neck. He used his thumbs to stroke her throat, then massaged his way down her spine. Her silvery aura glowed.

Against her will, her body started relaxing into his touch. "I'm not your pet," she snarled, earning herself a chuckle.

"You will be, my pet," he replied, unperturbed. "You will be." He leaned forward, placing his chest against her back and rubbed his hands up and down her back and the sides of her breasts.

His touch felt so good. She wanted him to touch her everywhere. She could feel a fire start to burn in her and knew there was only one way it was going to get put out, unless she could put a stop to it before it got truly started. She tried to get to her knees and twist him off of her, but he knew to expect the unexpected from her now, and kept his place. He slid a hand over her stomach and into the waistband of her jeans, tugging on the button, then the zipper.

She knew if he touched her pussy she was lost. She was already wet. She flattened herself against the floor, stopping him from going any further.

A book flew across the room, but he saw it coming and batted it down.

"I just want to make you feel good," Elijah cooed at her, running his hands over all the skin he had uncovered. "Relax, my pet. Think of how good I can make you feel. Only me. Only pleasure for you with me."

A fogginess formed in her mind, and she was having trouble remembering to fight him. This is what he did to the Weak One. She was not weak. "I don't want you to make me feel good. Get off of me!"

"I'm going to get off in you," Elijah said, "but not quite yet. Patience, my pet. We'll get there."

Infuriated, she worked an arm free and tried to elbow him again, but he caught her arm and pinned it to the floor. He stripped the remains of her sweater, t-shirt an bra off her other arm and pinned that one down, too. With both her arms pinned to the floor, he leaned forward and drew a line up her throat with his tongue. She shuddered underneath him. "Stop it," she demanded.

"Stop me," he responded. He playfully nipped her throat, and a moan was ripped from her lips. Her silvery aura glowed brighter.

He drew back, picked a new place on her neck, and nipped her again. She went rigid and her aura glowed even brighter. He suctioned his mouth on her neck, drinking in some of her energy.

She felt him take some of her power and struggled to get an arm free. She threw another book, but it only flew for about a yard before it fell to the floor. "Stop," she shouted in desperation, knowing he would drain her.

"Stop me," he repeated, moving his mouth down her back. He sucked hard enough to leave marks on her smooth, creamy skin as he took in sips of her energy. He moved his mouth to a new place each time he'd made a suction mark on her skin.This was not his favorite way to feed but he could use it to subdue her until she was manageable enough for him to finish stripping her and spread her out for him to feast on. He stopped feeding to gauge the level of fight left in her. He hadn't fed much, her aura still glowed brightly, and his touch was probably working on her now.

He released her arms and sent a hand down her body, under her, and into her jeans again. She rolled as much as she could, trying to pin his hand. He slid his hand out from under her, letting her think she had the small victory. He'd already gotten her pants unbuttoned and unzipped, so he slid his weight from her hips, grabbed the waistband of her jeans from the back, and yanked her jeans down over her ass.

She yelped and tried to scramble away from him. He let her. He was still holding onto her jeans, and the further she wiggled away from him the further down her legs he pulled them. When her jeans reached her knees he grabbed her hips and pulled her up and back. He slid a hand up her thigh in between her legs. She was so wet for him he could have slid into her fully right then.

Trapping her legs in between his, he slid a finger into her, and she stilled. "Stop," she said again.

"Stop me," he repeated. He moved his finger, brushing over a place inside her that made her shudder and moan. "I've had days to learn everything about this body, my pet. Just give in to me. I promise I know what you need." He stroked his finger inside her slowly.

She felt her mind getting foggier, just like the Weak One. She thrashed, trying to pull herself away on her elbows. A book flew across the room and thudded into his chest. He made a satisfying whooshing sound as his breath rushed out of him.

Normally a woman submitted to him at the first touch, and when he made her come for him she could think of nothing but pleasure. But Elijah remembered their first encounter, and how quickly she had taken her orgasm and disappeared. He wanted her to stay with him for a while. He still had questions, and after a week with Nadya, it was clear she didn't have any answers. He had to get this witch under control, but not how he usually did.

"Your name is Nadia," Elijah said. She froze beneath him. He pushed down his pajama bottoms just far enough to release his aching, dripping cock and fisted himself with one hand, giving himself hard, jerky strokes. He preferred to feed from women when he forced them to orgasm, but his powers were at their strongest when he came. That was when he was able to put compulsions on women to make them do whatever he wanted.

He pushed a second finger into her pussy and stretched her a little, but not too much. He wanted to feel her stretch and shape herself around his cock. "Not Nadya with a y, you're not her," he continued. "You are Nadia with an i. That's your name."

She went still as Elijah gave her a name, causing conflicting emotions to roil through her. Elation. Arousal. Confusion. Hatred. Arousal. Gratitude. Disgust. Arousal. Fingers weren't enough, and he was moving too slow. She pushed back against him, needing more contact. She wasn't the Weak One. If she was going to be fucked, she wanted to know she was being fucked, not this teasing love making. "Am I supposed to let you take everything from me now that you've given me a name?" she snapped.

"Can you stop me?" Elijah asked.

"No," Nadia admitted.

"That's why you'll let me take everything from you," Elijah said, sliding his cock against her sex between her closed thighs. Her arousal coated his cock from tip to base as he rubbed against her.

"I'm not letting you!" Nadia protested.

"Aren't you?" Elijah asked, lining up his cock with her opening. "Stop me."

"I can't!" Nadia screamed as he slowly pushed his cock into her wet heat.

They both groaned as she stretched around his girth. He pulled back and slid into her further, bottoming out inside her. "As long as you think you can't stop me, you never will." He slid back and slammed himself back into her, fucking her with hard, fast strokes.

"You're strong, but you don't know how to be strong," he said. "That's why you are mine."

He didn't intend for this to last long, or to let her come. The chase, her resistance, pinning her down, putting the suction marks all over her skin as he'd sipped her energy from her, and now, seeing her on her elbows and knees, ass in the air, her pussy gripping and taking his cock, all combined in a heady combination that sent his arousal to a level he'd never felt before.

He felt her tightening around him, and bent over her, turning her face to his, catching her gaze. He thrust deep and held himself there, emptying himself inside her. Staring into her eyes, he said, "You, Nadia, will no longer hide behind Nadya. You will come forward when I summon you, and you will go back when I dismiss you until I summon you again."

Nadia fought the compulsion. She could feel it whirling around in her mind along with all the other conflicting emotions she was feeling. "No," she protested.

"Yes," Elijah said smugly.

"No," Nadia screamed. "I couldn't stop you fucking me this time, but you will never put me in a cage!"

Elijah's smug smirk disappeared from his face as all the books from the alcove flew at them, and he realized he'd made a mistake. She'd just discovered how to break free, and he had threatened her new found freedom. That hadn't been his intention. He wanted to spend more time with her to figure out what she was, but she was in a rage and wouldn't hear him now.

He covered her body with his and absorbed the impact of each book as it thudded into him. The other lamp crashed into a wall and the sofa scraped across the floor. Glass shattered and cold air blew into the room from the broken windows in the alcove. The table lifted itself up and flipped over, the bowls and plates breaking on the floor. Cupboards and drawers slammed open and closed in the bathroom, and mirrors shattered as things were thrown into them. The closet door flew open and shoes flew out to pelt him along with the books from the alcove. The massive bed floated in the air.

Nadia was fury itself. She drew on on a deep reserve of power she hadn't known she possessed and flung it out into the room as she screamed. She felt broken and she wanted to break everything. Elijah had given her a name. She'd liked him in that moment, in spite of the kidnapping and not being able to stop him fucking her. He'd thought of her as a separate person that deserved her own name. But then he'd ruined it and threatened to cage her until he wanted her to come out. She was no toy. She was no butterfly. And she would not be caged by him.

Broken pieces of glass from the mirrors, windows, dishes, lamps and bottles that had been broken swirled in the air among the books, shoes. They flew at him like arrows, slicing into the skin of his back and arms as he huddled protectively over Nadia. Most of the cuts were shallow, but a few went deep. She was going to kill him, or both of them, if she kept this up.

Elijah had found it interesting that he'd had to enthrall each witch with in the same body separately, as if their minds were completely independent of one another. Now he hoped even though their minds were separate they reacted the same way physically to the training they'd had. He turned his face into Nadia's neck as she struggled and screamed beneath him and bit her neck as hard as he could.

She made a sound that was a combination of a scream and a moan, and came hard around his cock, still lodged deep inside her. Her energy slammed into him, lashing out like a whip, and almost strong enough to throw him off her. For a moment he was worried she actually would stop him and escape. He couldn't let her. She'd never survive alone with vampires looking for her. Especially Mordecai.

He held her to him in a grip hard enough to bruise. He fed, but could hardly keep up with the rate her energy was coming out of her. He bit her again and she came again, this time moaning and moving her hips. Things were still flying around the room, but when the books and shoes hit him now the impacts weren't so hard, the sharp shards merely scratched, and the heavy furniture had stopped moving on its own.

Elijah felt energized, electrified, and full. He wasn't sure he could drain off much more of her energy and was glad to see her silvery aura was still there, but muted and fading. He was cut, bruised and battered, but his cock was hard again. He reared up and drove himself into her at a pace and depth meant to punish. Nadia grunted as she took him, her body jolting with the force of each thrust as she pushed back against him.

She gave herself over to his attentions and the pleasure he offered her, and the room returned to calm. He gave her randomly changing thrusts, some hard and deep, some shallow and short, some fast, some slow, not giving her a rhythm to push against or build on, forcing her to concentrate on chasing her orgasm rather than throwing things around the room. All at once everything still in the air fell to the ground in a cacophony of shattering glass and thuds.

His own orgasm was near, and he gripped her hips hard, pulling her against him as he came deep into her. He still felt the need to master her somehow. Having control over her her was the only way he could think of to avoid something like this happening again. He leaned over her back, fisting a hand in her hair so she couldn't turn away, and looked into her angry silver eyes. "You are my pet," he said, thrusting deep. "When I call you my pet, you will get on your knees and elbows, cheek down on the floor until I release you." He thrust again and held himself inside her as he finished coming.

Elijah felt her fight the compulsion. Knowing she was strong, but that she was also close to release, he reached around her and slid his fingers over her slippery sex, fingering her clit to distract her from the fight against him.