Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
Before the room even clears, James is scooping me up off the bed with effortless strength, carrying me away bridal-style with a burst of speed.
Air rushes past my ears, everything in my field of vision blurring into smears of color and candlelight.
He’s up the stairs and in my room in seconds, depositing me in the middle of the bed.
Not roughly, but not exactly gently, either– just firm, decisive. Like I’m a possession he’s reclaiming.
I catch myself on my palms, dress still hiked up around my hips, panties abandoned somewhere back in the lounge. My heart jackhammers against my ribs, head spinning. Adrenaline, mortification, and arousal collide while I try to process what the hell just happened.
James stands rigidly at the edge of the bed, a dark silhouette against the low light. His eyes are glacial, arms folded across his chest as if he’s holding himself back. Even the slow, controlled rhythm of his breathing is akin to a ticking bomb, each measured inhale a countdown.
I can’t take it– the silence, the scrutiny, the eerie calmness he’s exuding while my entire body’s sparking like a live wire and my skull feels as if it might detonate. I can practically taste the tension in the air, the metallic tang of restraint scalding my tongue.
It feels like I’ve done something wrong; like that scene in the lounge was a test I failed. But if it was, it’s his own damn fault, and I refuse to take the blame for boundaries that he never even set.
Ozzy pounces onto the bed and hisses fiercely at James, who brandishes his fangs in response.
The kitten jumps back in fright, leaping from the bed with another hiss and darting toward the door.
James follows him with a burst of speed, slamming the door behind Ozzy so hard that the hinges rattle.
Then he zips back over to the bed, chest heaving as his eyes land on me.
“Why?” I demand, voice coming out high-pitched and shaky.
James’ mouth twitches as he retracts his fangs. “I won’t have that thing clawing at me.”
“Not the cat,” I mutter, curling upright. “The party. Why’d you throw him off me?”
“Because you didn’t want him.”
I gape at James, incredulous. “I literally just let him eat me out in front of a room full of people,” I scoff. “I don’t know what that means in your world, but in mine, it’s a pretty clear invitation.”
“But it was my name on your lips when he made you come.” He tilts his head as he steps closer, shadows sharpening the hard cut of his cheekbones. “So tell me, darling, was the invitation for him, or for me?”
My mouth opens, but the words catch in my throat. He already knows the answer anyway. We both do.
“Why does it matter?” I snap, grasping for some footing. “Are you jealous now? Because you’re the one who told me to pick someone, to explore what I like.”
James barks a sharp, humorless laugh. “You think I’m jealous of a human?” he sneers, upper lip curling back from his teeth. “Please. He’s of no consequence to me.”
“Then what is it?” I demand, voice breaking on the edge of something raw and uncertain. “Was all that just some trick, some stupid mind game to see how far you could push me? Because I’m not some toy for you to jerk around, James.”
He looks down at me, and for a moment there’s a flicker of something behind the mask– something dark and desperate and just a little bit lost. Then it’s gone, replaced by the smooth, impenetrable calm I’m rapidly coming to hate.
“I didn’t force you to do anything,” he states flatly. “You were given the choice.”
I grit my teeth. “And then you took it away when you threw him off me.”
“Did you want him to fuck you?”
“Did you?” I fire back. “Because before that, you seemed perfectly comfortable getting your dick sucked while you watched him make me come.”
James’ lips twitch, the barest hint of a smile curling at the edges. “You’re the one who seems jealous, darling.”
“Well maybe I am,” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “The rules to this whole thing are a little murky, don’t you think? You put all that stuff in the contract, but tonight was the first time I’ve ever even seen your dick. And it was down someone else’s throat.”
His brow arches. “And that bothers you?”
“I…” my voice trails off. I could lie, save face, but that won’t get me anywhere. So, I go for honesty, hoping he doesn’t make me regret it. “Yeah,” I breathe, folding my arms tighter. “It does.”
His responsive smirk is far too smug. A rogue strand of pale blond hair catches in his lashes as he tilts his head, sharp gaze locking onto mine. “Do you want to suck my cock, little mortal?”
A small, indignant sound slips out of me– not a yes, but definitely not a no.
The low rumble that follows from him vibrates straight through my chest. Satisfaction.
Triumph. Pure, unrestrained dominance. He moves with a wicked kind of ease, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and letting it fall to the floor.
His chest is a landscape of taut muscle and swirling black ink, tattoos tracing the planes of his ribs and shoulders, dark and intricate.
I can’t help but stare, eyes drinking in every inch of his skin.
James drops to one knee on the bed in front of me, the movement so sudden and predatory that I jerk back a little on instinct.
He braces his hands on either side of my hips, pinning me down as he crowds into my space.
I can smell the aftershocks of whiskey and sex on him, with an undercurrent of something cold that makes my skin tingle.
“Say it, mea dulcis,” he drawls, low and dangerous. His mouth is close to my ear, voice raspy and edged with restraint. “Say you’re ready to take my cock, because I’m done waiting.”
I stutter, the words getting stuck in my throat, but then he’s unzipping his pants and shoving them down his hips.
His cock springs free– thick and long and already hard.
It’s even more intimidating up close, but the memory of Sylvie’s pale hand wrapped around it flashes through my mind and jealousy burns hot.
I put up zero resistance when he guides my hand to the base. My fingers curl around him, and for a second I just marvel at the weight, the thickness, the way my fingers don’t even touch. He’s watching me, and the intensity of his gaze makes my stomach clench.
“Go on,” he coaxes.
I should pull back. I should punish him for toying with my emotions, for the way he’s made me ache with want. But I can’t. His hardness presses into my palm, warm and insistent, and every rational thought evaporates.
I lean in. My tongue flicks over the head, sliding across velvety skin, tasting him.
Glancing up, I catch his eyes half-lidded, mouth set in a grim line of concentration. Something in me twists– desire, submission, challenge, all tangled together.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and the praise sends a bolt of heat straight to my core.
Suddenly, it’s all I want– to please him, to earn those words, to be the only one in the world who can arouse him like this.
I stretch my lips around the head, taking him into my mouth.
He’s so thick it’s a struggle, my jaw straining as my tongue flattens against the underside.
Panic flickers through me at the thought of how it’ll feel to have him inside me– if he’ll even fit– but the thought only fans the heat curling low in my belly, sparking to flame.
He groans, deep and rough, and the sound emboldens me. I take him deeper, wrapping my lips tight around his thick shaft and hollowing out my cheeks to draw him in. Salty-slick taste, velvety smooth texture, the heavy weight of him against my tongue– it’s overwhelming, completely intoxicating.
He makes a low, guttural growl that vibrates all the way up my spine.
His hand comes down to tangle in my hair, fingers fisting firmly to guide me up and down.
He doesn’t force it like he did with Sylvie, but he doesn’t let me set the pace, either.
His grip is controlling, authoritative, every small push a command.
Each time he urges me deeper, my eyes water, but it makes me dizzy with want.
I love it.
I love the way he takes the reins, the way he lets me surrender and just feel.
I start to bob my head, picking up speed, letting instinct and hunger take over.
The rhythm settles into something primal, a give-and-take as easy as breathing.
He begins to thrust– small, controlled movements, hips flexing.
I feel the tension coiling in his thighs, abs clenching as I take him all the way to the back of my throat.
Then he abruptly pulls me off, leaving me gasping for air, a wet string of saliva still connecting my lips to the swollen head of his cock. He looks down at me, pupils blown wide, jaw tight.
I meet his feral gaze, wiping my mouth on the back of a hand while eagerly awaiting his next directive.
He just smirks and eases me to lie back on the bed beneath him. My dress is a crumpled wreck around my waist, but he doesn’t even bother to take it off– just shoves it higher, exposing my bare skin to the cool air until goosebumps rise on my belly.
Then he’s on his knees again, palms pushing my thighs wide, spreading me open. He lowers his mouth to my pussy, licking into me like a man starved. I scream when his tongue flicks over my clit, the raw sound torn from somewhere deep within me.
His technique is nothing like Sam’s. Where the human was careful and sweet, the vampire is downright relentless. His tongue moves with supernatural speed and precision until my back bows off the bed, hands clutching at his hair.