Chapter 31
31
T he challenge blazing in Grace’s eyes would knock the breath from me if I hadn’t stopped breathing the moment she started undoing my jeans.
Fuck, she’s hot when she’s pissy, and even hotter down on her knees, tugging my jeans and underwear down my legs while glaring up at me.
In all the ways I imagined Grace putting her mouth on me, it was never like this. How did we go from giving her my blood for pain relief to her grabbing my thighs, her pink manicured nails digging in enough to hurt a little as she pushes them apart?
Does she like taking control? She didn’t list it as something she wanted to try when she filled out the kink questionnaire. No, Grace is only doing this because she’s right—I’m a stubborn, dense fool who keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop and I find out this isn’t real for her.
Grace presses a tentative kiss to my inner thigh, and my head swims from desire and the unmooring sensation of not being the one setting the pace for sex.
It’s too much. I need to regain control for both our sakes.
I gingerly thread a hand through Grace’s hair and tighten my grip, not wanting to yank her head back and aggravate her neck issue, but needing her to feel the prick of pain in her scalp.
She gasps and pulls back, tilting her head up to give me a petulant look.
Grace isn’t a brat. She’s pissed for good reason. I don’t want her to be in that kind of headspace the first time she does this. Maybe I’m selfish, but I want it to be something she’ll remember with eagerness to do it again, not the memory of being angry at me. I’m already worried enough that she’ll hate it.
“If you want to negotiate a scene where you’re in charge, we can do that when our heads are clear. Until then, I say when you’ve earned my pussy, pet.”
Grace’s breath catches and her pupils expand at the shift in energy between us. She licks her lips. “I’ve been good. Please don’t make me wait any longer.”
I pretend to think, even though my clit is throbbing, seeing that she’s serious about wanting to go down on me. I release her hair and stroke her cheek, then graze my thumb across her kiss-swollen lips. “Pets don’t get to make demands. They take whatever they’re given.”
“Yes, Mistress,” she murmurs, the flame of frustration in her eyes shifting into yearning submission.
As much as I want to fist Grace’s hair again and hold her mouth against my pussy, I’m still concerned about her neck. She’s not in pain now, but that doesn’t mean I want to make things worse once the effects of my blood wear off. If she had a fresh injury, like a cut, it could heal that easily, but it doesn’t undo a disease that causes degeneration. It’s not a cure.
I gesture to the abandoned blood cocktail on the counter. “Drink the rest of that. When you’re done, go upstairs, take off your robe and underwear, and lie down on the bed.”
Grace’s mouth falls open, and her brow pinches, but no protest escapes. She stands and grabs the glass, bringing it to her lips. Watching her throat work as she downs the liquid reminds me of our first scene together, but this time I won’t be going home afraid of what my monster will do to her if I give in to my desire.
This time, I’m letting myself have what I’m desperate for.
She sets the glass down and wipes her lips, then turns to head toward the stairs, but I grab her arm. “You know what to say if you need to stop. Use it if you don’t enjoy something we do when we get into the bedroom or if it bothers your neck. I promise I won’t be upset. If I’m not allowed to be stubborn about this, then neither are you.”
She nods, and I let go of her arm, watching her cross the living room to the stairs and giving myself a moment to get my head on straight before fully diving into this impromptu scene. I pull my pants and underwear back up over my hips, smiling at how adamant Grace was when she tugged them down. As I’m putting the bottle of juice back in the fridge, I pause when I see the ingredients I’d brought for dinner sitting in there.
I didn’t come over tonight for sex. I came because I wanted to take care of Grace in any way she’d let me. I’d planned on making dinner and tidying up while she rested, and the thought of being able to help her like that made me happy .
But then she had to kiss me like she couldn’t live without my lips on hers.
I’d write it off as a side-effect of my blood, but I know from experience it doesn’t have that effect. I’ve given people my blood before and it makes them feel relaxed and floaty, but never forced arousal. That kiss was all Grace.
Now she’s waiting for me upstairs, naked and ready for my command. Her dinner will have to wait.
I head upstairs, and even though I expected Grace to be naked, I freeze in the doorway at the sight. She’s turned off the overhead light and put on the bedside lamps, casting a warm glow over the pale pinks and creams of her bedroom, a perfect compliment to her flushed bare skin and rosy nipples. She’s sprawled on her back, her blonde hair fanned across the pillow, looking like an angelic offering to my monster. Her soft stomach rises and falls with rapid breaths as she hears me in the doorway, but she stays still, waiting for me to use her as I see fit.
Every inch of her is tempting. I could worship and tease her gorgeous breasts, or pepper kisses and nips across the soft dips and curves of her stomach and hips. I already know how divine her pussy tastes, and the thought of experiencing it again as she begs for me to give her more makes my mouth water. But she wanted to try eating my pussy, so that’s what she’ll get. To start, at least. Who knows what my monster will want when I’m overtaken by pleasure?
“Such a good pet, waiting patiently for me,” I murmur as I move over to the bed.
“Thank you,” Grace says breathily, her head turning so she can look at me. There’s no sign at all of discomfort or pain, and pride surges inside me.
I helped her. I took away her pain. I may despise my vampiric nature, but without it, I wouldn’t have been able to give this to Grace. It makes my monstrous side slightly more bearable.
A shy smile curves her lips as I peel my shirt off over my head. I didn’t bother wearing a bra tonight, and the cool air of the bedroom makes my nipples stiffen. Or maybe that’s from Grace’s eyes on me. Does she like what she sees?
Unwilling to let myself get caught up in that question, I tug off my jeans and underwear unceremoniously and step out of them. It’s not a particularly sexy thing to do, but when I meet Grace’s gaze after, she’s staring at me like I’m something special.
“You are so fucking gorgeous,” she says, her eyes darting all over my body like she can’t decide what part she wants to look at the most. “I knew that already, but… damn, Blair. How are you so perfect?”
“I’m not,” I say with a shrug, trying to play off how much her praise affects me. I turn to show her the scar on the back of my leg from when I fell climbing a tree as a kid. My body heals injuries on its own now, but it doesn’t remove the marks of the life I lived before becoming a vampire. “See? Not perfect.”
She laughs, the sound breathy with her excitement. “How is showing me your amazing ass supposed to convince me otherwise?”
“There’s a scar.” I move closer and point directly at the puckered, jagged line.
I don’t expect her to bring her hand up to trace it reverently, her warm fingers ghosting across the back of my thigh, doing more to turn me on than anything I’ve done with past partners.
“Nope. Still perfect.”
The look Grace gives me when I turn back around is laced with a multitude of emotions. Many of which I’m scared to name, afraid that recognizing them will shatter what little remains of the barrier protecting my heart. I almost stumble backwards under the weight of it.
I swallow down my urge to panic at the mirroring cacophony of emotions inside me and focus on the heat pooling between my thighs.Pleasure is simple and infinitely safer than feelings. It follows my command.
I get on the bed and straddle Grace’s waist. Her body tenses for a moment, but then she visibly melts as my weight settles atop her. I can’t resist the urge to lean down and kiss her, consuming her little gasps of pleasure like I need them to sustain me.
She lets out a needy whine that almost makes me bite her right then and there when I pull back to let her catch her breath.
“What would you do to earn a taste of my pussy, pet?” I ask, my eyes locking on hers.
“Anything, Mistress,” Grace gasps.
“Anything? Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she replies with no hesitation.
Heat flares inside me and I rest a hand on her throat. Her pulse hammers beneath my fingers, calling to my monster. “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue. Take what I give you like a good girl and maybe I’ll consider it.”
Her eyes grow hooded at my touch and order, which she immediately obeys. Fuck, she really is a natural submissive.
I nick my lip with my fang and let my mouth fill with a mixture of saliva and blood as she waits, mouth open and pretty pink tongue presented to receive whatever I do. I lean forward, hand still lightly pinning her in place by the throat, and spit.
Her eyes flare wide in shock and she makes a garbled sound, but she keeps her mouth open.
“Swallow,” I command.
Grace follows my order, and I feel her throat work under my palm. Without my prompting, she opens her mouth and sticks her tongue out again.
It drags a low, dark laugh out of me, and my clit sparks seeing how much Grace wants to please me. “Mmm, you liked that, didn’t you, dirty girl?”
Grace nods, her eyelashes fluttering at my words. She’s stunning like this. There’s no worry that she’s not doing a good job. Only the beauty of her submission.
I lean forward and claim her lips again, the taste of my blood in her mouth making me moan. Enough playing around. I need some relief from the desire burning inside me before it immolates me.
When our lips part, Grace is panting. Her hands fist into the sheets beside her and I realize that she’s keeping herself from touching me because I didn’t give her permission. Her restraint is so goddamn sexy, it makes my head spin.
“Such a good girl. You’ve earned your reward,” I murmur. “Since you won’t be able to speak, tap my thigh twice like this if you need to stop.”
I demonstrate what I mean, and she nods.
“Thank you, Mistress,” she whispers, her voice threaded with a mixture of relief and desire.
Lifting off of Grace’s stomach, I move up until I’m kneeling above her face. I grab hold of her headboard to steady myself as I lower down until my pussy is just out of reach of her mouth.
“You want this pussy?” I ask, my eyes locked on to hers where they peek out from between my thighs.
“Yes, Mistress.” Her breath ghosts over my slick labia. I’m so fucking wet, I’m already dripping on her face.
“Go on, lick it. Once .” I lower down so that she can reach me and she doesn’t hesitate. Her tongue swipes a searing brand from my entrance up to my clit .
“How do I taste, pet?” I ask, backing off enough that I can see her expression better. I know I shouldn’t care, but I can’t help wanting the woman I’m obsessed with to not be completely repulsed by the taste of my pussy. It’s her first time doing this and if she doesn’t like it, we can stop.
But Grace surprises me, licking her lips and smiling up at me. “You taste like… sex. Like the desires I never knew I had until we met, hidden, but craved once I knew what it could feel like. I love it.”
Fuck me . She might as well have told me she loves me from how my entire being burns at her words.
I lower myself back down and guide her hands to grip onto my hips, which she squeezes with a grateful hum of approval. My thighs are going to get a workout from trying not to put too much weight on her neck, but I couldn’t care less. “Such pretty words from an even prettier mouth. Show me how well you can put that mouth to work.”