Chapter 19
After we have taken our fill of his seed, we lay the naked knight on the bed and disrobe.
He is still under Darius’s power and cannot move a muscle, but his eyes track my movements. And when I slip out of my shift, his gaze lingers on my breasts, then moves lower to the auburn curls between my legs.
See, he is no longer angry. Your beauty has addled his brain. Darius’s sly voice pokes into my thoughts, and I look down at Sir Cyril’s manhood, which is miraculously engorged again. And Darius is correct: the knight’s expression is now desirous.
A pleasing sight indeed. By my hand, you will live to see another night, Sir Darius, I purr, enjoying my role as the queen. Oh, to have that kind of power! To have grown men wish to bed you but also fear you!
But this knight does not fear me. Yet. His deep brown eyes meet mine as I slide onto the bed beside him and stroke his thigh.
When I caress his length, his eyes hood slightly, and his breath catches.
It makes me smile. Perhaps I do possess a certain amount of power.
I lean forward and kiss Sir Cyril’s smooth cheekbone, the tip of his curled moustache tickling my chin.
His lips are attractively plump, and I press a kiss onto those too.
The tip of his tongue flicks out, and I suck on it.
A tingling throb erupts between my thighs, and I kiss him more deeply, our tongues twirling and stroking like eager snakes.
I have not yet encountered a man who can give me such pleasure with a kiss.
Hmm, perhaps I will keep kissing him for a while longer . ..
There’s a cough beside the bed, and I remove my lips from the knight’s to find Darius kneeling beside us with an amused expression.
Apologies, Your Majesty. But if you are quite finished sucking on his lips, I would like to sup from his neck.
My hand closes protectively around the knight’s firm shoulder. I am not sure if I want to share him with Darius now. I want to kiss him some more and then copulate with him in private.
Can you not find a tavern whore to dine upon tonight? I desire him for myself.
Darius growls, his lips stretching over large white fangs. The knight jerks slightly under my touch upon seeing them.
Calm yourself, sweet one. I will not let him hurt you.
The knight jerks again, eyes swivelling wildly to mine as my thought streaks into the black cave of his mind like white lightning.
I keep one eye on Darius as I kiss the knight’s lips again, running my fingers through his short tufted beard. After glimpsing those fangs, Sir Cyril’s heart is pounding in my ears; and Darius’s head tilts, hearing it too. His eyes narrow.
You are forgetting who brought you this prize, my queen. Move away from him. Now.
Darius is becoming frustrated due to hunger, and I do not blame him; the scent of the knight’s blood is permeating the air. Besides, I need him to keep bringing me men. If I do not appease him, my supply may dry up.
So I try to bargain. Will his wrist suffice?
No, I want his neck. As we agreed.
I nod reluctantly, outranked by his superior power and position at court.
While we have been silently arguing above Sir Cyril, Darius’s control over him has wavered.
It is only when I move aside that I realise how much.
The knight is clutching the dagger that Darius usually wears on a leather strap around his thigh and has forgotten to remove.
Unbeknownst to him, he is the one now in grave danger of shedding blood!
Before I can cry out a warning, Sir Cyril lifts his arm and plunges the dagger into Darius’s stomach.
Darius stares in shock at the hilt sticking out of him.
A look of glee passes over the knight’s face, and he uses the element of surprise to shove Darius over and leap upon him.
The knight takes out the dagger and sticks him with it again—this time in the heart, effectively pinning him.
He will not die this way, but Dimitri told me it is unimaginably painful and renders a vampire helpless.
Darius gasps like a drowning fish.
Fuck fuck fuck! he moans in my mind. Help me!
Release him, I say calmly to the knight. Darius has many friends at court, including one of the queen’s personal protectors. A powerful vampire. Even if you manage to escape, he will hunt you down and snap your neck.
I shuffle forward on my knees thinking this should do the trick, but Sir Cyril exclaims, ‘Stay back, witch or I’ll cut off his head!
’ and crouches over Darius’s body like a naked fiend.
I am quite impressed despite myself that he has managed to take him down.
He has cunning and agility; he would make a good vampire.
But the thought leaves my mind immediately.
He is too volatile. He may attempt to murder me if he joins us.
My eyes slide to his manhood, which is at half mast. But I do have another power that I have been refining of late: allurement.
Stroking my breasts and nipples, I create a feeling of sexual desire and send it to the knight, an invisible mist of rose perfume flowing from my pores. His eyes glaze as it twines around him sensually, exploring his body with damp sensual fingers, causing his rod to stiffen further.
I hold out a finger and beckon. Leave him. Come to me.
The knight clambers over Darius eagerly, thinking now only of his sexual satisfaction. I smirk at Darius, feeling pleased with myself, but his eyes have rolled back in his head. So I tell him: How easy that was! My powers are improving!
Darius (moaning): For God’s sake, bite him! Bite him!
Me: Shhh, I am concentrating. I can take no chances. Look at what happened to you.
I gather the knight into my arms, and we lie together, our bodies entwining.
By now, I am feeling the effects of my own allurement, which is overtaking my need to rescue Darius.
I could flip Sir Cyril off the bed and go to Darius’s aid.
But the knight is moving his hips against mine, and his firm length is sliding rhythmically against my cunny, so I am a little . .. distracted.
Darius: Arrrgh, what are you doing? Why have you not released me?
Me: I may want to copulate with him first.
Darius: Forsooth, I am in agony, and you wish to copulate? Drain that fuck-twoddle, or I will summon Dimitri!
That puts the wind up me. I have no wish to have my sire involved in this disaster. He may blame me.
Me: No! I will do it!
The knight buries his nose in my hair and breathes deeply. ‘You smell like roses. Most beguiling.’
He wraps his arms tighter around me, and I steel my nerve, pushing aside my desire and my doubt. I have to do this for Darius’s sake. I cannot trust Sir Cyril. He has to die.
I push him off me with one hand and gaze into his lustful eyes. Lie still, my sweet. This will be over quickly.
Darius (groaning): Hurry!
I plunge my fangs into the knight’s neck and take a few deep pulls. He moans and thrashes his legs, but I lie on top to keep him still and sup steadily, the taste of his blood overthrowing my lust for the moment.
Darius: Are you drinking?
Me: Yes!
Darius: How does he taste?
Me (moaning): Succulent.
Darius: Release me. I wish to partake before his demise.
Me (gulping): Wait your turn.
Sir Cyril’s arms loosen from around my waist and slip to the bed.
His heart is slowing, a dull thud as it struggles to move what blood he has left around his body.
I lick the seeping puncture wounds on his neck and draw back, staring at his handsome face as ruby drops fall from my lips and run down his smooth chest. His beautiful eyes are closed, his jaw slack, and his skin has a grey hue.
He is close to death, of that I am certain.
One good suck, and it will send him trotting up to the Pearly Gates.
(Of course he is going to heaven. He is pure and blameless, unlike I!) But something in me hesitates.
What a pity, and what a waste of a good man.
I stroke his cheek and mutter, ‘You were my best meal of the century. I will never forget you.’
Sir Cyril’s eyes flutter, and he gurgles something incomprehensible to the human ear. But I have vampire hearing.
‘Please, dear lady. Do not let me die.’
Something snaps in me; and I hurl myself at Darius, yank the dagger from his chest, and slice open my wrist. I thrust it at Sir Cyril’s lips, forcing the spurting wound between them.
Drink! Drink! Drink!
He sucks weakly.
More! More! More!
His mouth latches on, and he feeds more forcefully. Guzzling my blood now. The grey tinge disappears from his skin; one hand grips my wrist, pressing it firmly against his mouth. I smile in relief and brush his hair off his sweating forehead as he suckles like a babe.
What in seven hells are you doing, Hester?
I glance over to see Darius scowling, the wound in his chest already knitting together. Oh no!
I must do this. Do not stop me. I cower over the knight protectively.
He stabbed me with a dagger, and you reward him with eternal life? Darius bares his fangs and hisses, his expression incredulous.
I lift my chin stubbornly. I cannot explain it. I felt the need to save him.
The knight jerks and spasms in my arms as the venom in his body leads him down a different path. Namely not to a hastily dug grave in the forest.
You will regret that.
At first, I think it is Darius who has said it. But I look down to find the knight’s eyes wide open and locked on mine. There is a golden haze glowing from their depths. And something else. A darkness. A hatred. For what I have done to him.
I gulp and edge away, rubbing at my rapidly healing wrist, as he sits up and stretches his neck and flexes his fingers. Testing his strength. Then he slowly rises like a naked phoenix, towering over me, fists clenched and fangs bared.
Prepare to die!
Oh Lord, he is not grateful in the slightest. Biting this knight was a bad idea!
Before Sir Cyril can strike, Darius lunges and tackles him to the floor. Snarling and growling ensues, and I dare not look over the edge.
Then there is the sound of something being dragged across the floor, and I peek to see Darius’s forearm clamped around the struggling knight’s neck and his hand tight over his mouth.
Do not hurt him!
Darius rolls his eyes at me.
Worry not. I will take care of your mess. One way or another.
I bury my face in my hands as the secret door slams shut behind them. By those words, I suspect he will drag Sir Cyril down to the dungeon and inform Dimitri of my stupidity. Then they will behead him with a sword and drink his blood. He is doomed!