Midnight Eternal Read online

  Midnight Eternal

  by NJ Cole

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and events are fictional and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  NJ Cole does not claim to be an expert in BDSM. Any BDSM aspects of this story are fictional and based partly on her experiences and largely on her imagination.

  Copyright © NJ Cole 2014

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, nor stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission from the author.

  Cover art © bazil depositphotos.com

  © WebStudio24h depositphotos.com

  This book would not be possible without the support of my friends and family. I’d like to thank:

  My boys—once again you were terrific on this yearlong journey, even throwing out Bocaj anatomy suggestions for me.

  T.m. Franklin for the beautiful cover and for putting up with me. It’s amazing!

  My friends—Natalie, Ann, Jill, Rachel, Heather, Born, MK, Emma, and Elke.

  My fellow role-players—Simone, Amber Paradysz, Shem, Ramona, Kon, Jaime Caranza, and Embry for keeping my creative juices flowing.

  My extra special friends who supported me with this book:

  Megan Burger, who sat with me in docs and kept encouraging me when I’d all but given up on this project.

  Matthew Stadnick, who seems to be there for me all the time no matter what.

  Bobby Kim, who created my website and helped me promote my work, along with encouraging me every day.

  Carlo Giovanni, who created such an elaborate role-play world with me that I have endless stories to write, and for keeping my mind engaged with intellectual conversation.

  John Harkey, my Ven, for making me laugh, accepting me as I am, keeping me company in docs and on Skype, and showing me that there are people out there who really do drink out of jelly jars.

  Wil for sticking with me roleplaying, and patiently waiting for me all the time.

  PAD for the final read through, catching all the commas

  Becky Schmit, who supported me and did the final read through, giving it her stamp of approval.

  I need to thank Sally for being my friend and Jo Matthews for being my editor. The way we work together, what will one day be known as ‘Exhibit Q’ makes the editing process fun. I appreciate all that you do and I value you as a friend and a professional. Thank you so much for making me look like I’m so much better than I really am.

  Thank you all!

  To my Sir,

  Thank you for letting me fly.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  About NJ Cole

  Also Available by NJ Cole

  Sneak Peek at Landslide

  Chapter One

  Master

  Bec was beautiful—a goddess really—perfection in human form. She lay sleeping tight up against me with her forehead resting over the tattoo that was now displayed prominently across my chest. I was glad my kind didn’t need sleep so I could enjoy every moment of her in my arms. Though I’d seen every inch of her before, I spent the night memorizing the minute details of her amazing body.

  Each inch of skin brought back memories. Her fingers—which had fisted the sheets while I was ravishing her body—now lay limp and relaxed against the soft fabric. I thought back to the first time I’d seen those beautiful digits dipping in and out of her slick folds. I’d been with my former submissive, Gretchen, at the time.

  I was a Dominant with a long line of submissives, both human and Bocaj. Gretchen, like me, was Bocaj, a race that had migrated to Earth thousands of years ago. We were similar to humans in our physical appearance, but we differed from them in our biology. We were stronger, faster, and more in tune to our animalistic nature than humans. That animalistic nature was what made many Bocaj gravitate toward BDSM. Being a Dominant gave me balance, and I knew it gave my submissive a sense of tranquility. It was a codependent relationship, and although most of the time I relished every moment with my submissives, the relationship between Gretchen and I had become awkward.

  I hadn’t really felt like having her serve me then, yet there she was, on her knees with my cock in her mouth. She’d been blowing me for a while, and instead of being close to coming, I was having a hard time maintaining an erection.

  “Up against the glass,” I growled, pulling my cock from her mouth. She moved quickly, pressing the full length of her nude form against the window. I slammed into her without warning and began using her body. At that point, it was much more for her than it was for me. She had the need to serve, and as a good Dom, I took care of her needs.

  I thrust in and out quickly. Apparently she hadn’t noticed my lack of enthusiasm, because her pussy was very wet. With my hands on her hips, I continued to fuck her as I scanned the apartment building across the street out of boredom.

  A woman in one stood in the kitchen doing dishes. A man in another took off his tie and clicked on the television. Two kids in a third played a video game. Boring. Mundane. The late hour meant that most were already asleep. As I scanned dozens of dark apartment windows, something caught my eye. Two legs moved, knees bent, up and down like wings of a butterfly. There was no man between them, only fingers…beautiful fingers and a long, slender object.

  Although the apartment was dark, I could see her well. She was a brunette with wide doe eyes, and had a curvy yet slender body with legs that went on for miles. Her pussy glistened with moisture and I felt my cock instantly harden from its semi-stiff state into a raging erection. With each movement of her hand—thrusting her imitation cock in and out of her body—her legs rose and fell.

  I wanted to be there, touching and feeling her…making her body move like that. It looked as if she were going to take flight as her hand moved faster and faster. Matching my pace to hers, I continued to fuck Gretchen.

  She writhed on her bed wildly as I watched. I longed to tame her…to have her submit to me…to do things to her body that no man had ever done.

  Her left hand, which had been circling her swollen clit, moved to her loose fitting top. She tugged on it, and in an instant I was treated to a view of her perfectly formed breasts. One of her nipples, already hard, disappeared beneath her fingertips as she pinched it roughly.

  She fucked herself harder and faster with the rigid, vibrating object, her back arching off the bed as she tugged on her nipple harshly.

  My cock hardened further—if that was even possible—and I fucked Gretchen wildly while still holding her against the glass. I was pounding into her with such force that I heard a slight popping sound and a small crack appeared in the upper corner of my window.

  I would have been more concerned about the crack, but the beautiful creature across the street had me completely captivated. Her thrusts became wilder and it was obvious she was close to reaching her orgasm. I could see her panting and knew the exact moment she came, her body stilling with the exception of a small shudder as she reached her rapture.

  A primal scream escaped my lips as my release came only moments after hers, and I shot stream after stre
am of come into Gretchen’s waiting body. I was still filling her as the brunette goddess across the street collapsed into a relaxed heap and removed the dildo, slick with her arousal.

  I exhaled at the memory, my breath traveling across her body causing her nipples to pebble. The simple reaction reminded me of the first time I’d had had her kneel for me in her apartment. She’d thrust them at me, showing me that she wanted me and that she wasn’t afraid. I’d used the mistake on her part as a teaching tool, and was pleased at how she’d obeyed my command that she not pleasure herself that night as a punishment. It was a clear indication of how trainable she was.

  And I’d been right. Twelve hours after first inspecting her in her bedroom, she’d entered my playroom and shown me just how eager to please she was. That initial afternoon, I’d learned a few important things about my butterfly. First, she enjoyed spankings, which I thought would make reprimanding hard. Her desire to serve and please me, however, made for simple, effective punishments. All that I really needed to do was deny her my words of praise, my touch, or my attention, and she was willing to comply with anything I desired of her just to get back in my good graces.

  That led to the other thing I’d learned about her the first night. She wasn’t going to call red—or mum as I’d taught her—no matter how far I pushed her. That first day, I wanted to prove to her and myself that she wasn’t cut out for this. At the time, I’d been fighting my feelings for her, my body recognizing she was my mate, but my head not yet accepting the fact. I’d pushed her hard that afternoon, teasing, torturing, and fucking that pussy until her legs trembled. She’d orgasmed so many times I thought for sure she’d call mum, but she never did. She was covered in sweat and come when I had realized that she would pass out before she’d ever tell me to stop. That was when I knew that she’d be a submissive unlike any I’d ever trained before.

  There were a lot of things about her that were unlike any of the human submissives I’d had before—her mouth and the way I used it being one of them. Until I’d seen a fellow Bocaj and his human submissive doing certain things, I hadn’t known it was possible. Learning that she could serve me in that way had completely changed our playtime. Not only was I able to find immense pleasure from her mouth, but when I rewarded her with my come, she seemed to absorb characteristics of my kind. She became faster, stronger, and tougher, making her physically compatible with me.

  It wasn’t like Bocaj and humans couldn’t have sex, it was just difficult. I’d equate it to a tiger mating with a house cat. Sure, they looked similar, but the size difference and sheer strength of the tiger would be critical to the house cat. Even if the tiger didn’t mean to, he could easily crush the cat when instinct took over and he began to thrust into her small body. It’s the same with Bocaj and humans. Intercourse between our species was rare because, in almost all of the cases, the female had died. They would be found—pelvises sometimes crushed—with broken arms or ribs. It wasn’t known for sure if it was because the humans couldn’t withstand the size and strength of the Bocaj, or if it was because of another common trait Bocaj share with other animals, including tigers.

  When a male tiger mates with a female tiger, he bites into the back of her neck, holding her in place for the duration of the act. Similarly, when Bocaj males become aroused, they have fangs that elongate at times and inject toxin into the females. With female Bocaj, this is supposed to stimulate arousal and, at certain times of the month, the reproductive system. However, when a human is injected with the toxin, she becomes paralyzed and, more often than not, dies. For those reasons, I never thought I’d be able to have intercourse with any of my human submissives, especially my butterfly, whom I’d realized I couldn’t live without.

  It turned out that hypothesis was wrong. Human females could mate with male Bocaj, provided they had consumed enough come to allow compatibility. When I’d consummated our relationship last night after collaring her, she’d been almost as strong as a female Bocaj. I’d still been careful with her, but at no point in our lovemaking had she been in danger.

  I looked to her neck to where her collar lay. She was the first woman I’d ever given a permanent collar to. I’d never even considered it before her, yet when I placed it around her neck last night, I’d never been so sure in my life. Just her presence calmed me, yet there was more. My entire life I’d felt incomplete, restless. A few months ago my father, Gabriel—seeing me beyond uptight and stressed out—asked me if my butterfly’s arousal was working to calm me. It was after that conversation I’d learned of how a female’s sweet honey was like a drug to me. It calmed me, soothed me, and helped me focus.

  The first time I’d tasted her it had given me enough clarity that I was able to see that I loved her and that she was my mate. Each time after that, it had made it so that I was able think more clearly. Even now, though I’d covered her nude form with a blanket hours ago, I could smell it’s sweet tanginess calling to me.

  I wondered how much longer she’d sleep. It had been almost fifteen hours since she’d fallen asleep in my arms. I heard her stomach rumble and was glad I’d called Payton during the night to bring some food for my girl.

  Payton had encouraged my relationship with Bec, telling me to just let go and feel. Of course, she’d also suggested that I allow her to Top me, and while I recognized her skills as a Domme, I had no intention of submitting to anyone.

  I could tell that my butterfly was waking when her heart rate and breathing began to increase. As she stirred, the scent of her arousal became stronger, and I couldn’t take it anymore. Pulling the blanket aside, I ran my finger between her folds, gathering the sweet nectar my body craved. I knew soon hers would need nourishment like eggs, bread, and fruit, but mine needed her. Other than sunlight, I could live on the honey her body created for the remainder of my life.

  Bringing my finger to my lips, I groaned as her unique flavor rippled across my tongue and saturated my mouth. Sucking it clean, I then moved her thighs apart to allow me direct access to the source. She moaned softly in her sleep when my tongue first touched her, but she didn’t wake until she was panting and writhing beneath me.

  “Oh God. Oh my Sir—Master,” she quickly corrected as my mouth clamped down on her clit and sucked while my fingers pumped into her wet pussy. When I could feel her arousal on my hand, I released her clit and licked my reward in long, deliberate strokes.

  “Fuck…please,” she begged, her legs now trembling on either side of my head.

  “Come.”

  I drank from her in gulps as the nectar slipped from her body while she rode her high. Even after she stilled, I licked from her until there was just a hint of her delicious flavor left on her pink lips.

  Once again satiated, I had the clarity to know that she and I had to talk, and we couldn’t do it while in bed in the playroom. First of all, I’d get too distracted and want to claim her body again and again rather than having the discussion that I knew must take place. Second, she needed to be Rebecca for this conversation, not butterfly. As much as the thought sickened me, she had to know that she had the ability to question me, hate me, even leave me if she must. I knew enough about her, though, to know she wouldn’t do that if she were still acting as my submissive. And third, she had to be hungry, as evident by the continual growling of her stomach.

  “Are you hungry?” I whispered, kissing my way across her stomach.

  “Yeah,” she admitted as her stomach rumbled again. Then, surprising me she sat upright like her body had been on a spring. “Oh my God! What time is it? I’m going to be late for work.”

  “It’s just after two,” I said and she relaxed some.

  “Oh, it’s just hard to tell in here because there are no windows. I feel like I’ve slept a long time.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You have. It’s two pm.”

  Again she was in a panic. “How could I have? What will work think?” She was looking around the room in a panic, perhaps for her clothing or her cell phone. Neither w
as permitted in the room.

  “Please relax, butterfly. It seemed that you really needed your sleep, so I called us both in sick for the day.” Relief washed over her face.

  “Oh, Oliver, I still can’t believe it’s been you all along. Now that I think about it, all those times at lunch, that was you on the seventh floor?” I nodded. “And under the table that one time?” I nodded again, unable to hide my grin. Her eyes went wide. “OH! And when I wore the butterflies under my shirt and you were staring. You did know.” I nodded again and laughed.

  “You drove me insane that day. I wanted to just throw you on the table, tear your clothing from you body, and fuck you right then and there.”

  Her cheeks tinged with pink as she looked at the bed. “I wouldn’t have let you. I mean, I would have let you, but not Oliver, because…you know, I only wanted my Sir.”

  “I know,” I said, beaming at her. “You are such a good girl. I wish I could have told you sooner. I just couldn’t until you were collared. Do you know that you are the only submissive I’ve given a permanent collar to?”

  My words were supposed to make her feel loved, special, but the way her body went rigid and the instant glassiness to her eyes let me know she was terribly upset and on the verge of tears. Perhaps she regretted accepting my collar. That thought made me feel like I’d eaten a boulder.

  We had to talk—to make sure we were on the same page.

  “Is something wrong butterfly?”

  “No, Master.”

  I sighed. She was keeping something from me so I called her on it. “You are lying. I’ll repeat the question, and this time I want the truth. Is something wrong, butterfly?”

  Tears spilled from her eyes. “Yes, Master.”

  It occurred to me for the first time that she might be hurt from last night. She’d appeared fine, but I had no idea how she was doing internally. “Are you hurt?”