Chapter 16 #3
One was a large circle, with coconut flakes sprinkled over the chocolate icing. Another had three triangular tiers, slices of strawberry atop each, and pink icing. The last was a familiar yellow square, with spurts of cream lining the iced edges.
The cook walked in from the storage room. Rolling her blue eyes, she wiped her hands on a dish towel. “He speaks as if he made them.”
Brey’s smile wilted. “I helped.”
“Helped slow me down and make a mess.”
“Sampling is helping.”
“Not when the batter has yet to leave the mixing bowls.”
“We’ll need to agree to disagree, Hanna darling.” To me, he drawled, “Your timing truly is exceptional, lethal.”
A smile wriggled my lips. “Is it?”
“It is, for now, the real work commences.” Brey drummed his hands on the bench. “We inspect, we taste, and we pick our favorite.”
Hanna snorted. “I’ll leave you to the real work, then.”
Leaning against the arched doorway, I watched Hanna blow some hair from her face as she passed. The brown strands were stuck to a smear of chocolate, and the cook muttered a curse before pulling them from her flushed cheek.
I waited until she was gone, then said, “She’s human.” And a pretty one at that.
Brey collected a glob of icing from the benchtop and licked it from his finger. “Mm?”
“Hanna. Does she feed you more than food?”
He huffed. “She would rather leave.” Wiping his finger on his shirt, he said, “And she’s paid quite handsomely, so that’s saying something. We have feeders. During your visit, I told them to make themselves scarce.” Rubbing his hands together, he grinned at the cakes. “Where oh where do we start?”
It bothered me that he was more excited about sampling cakes than feasting on me. But his exuberance, the way he practically bounced on his bare feet as he eyed our options, replaced my irritation with something far warmer than arousal.
He wasn’t just excited to sample the cakes. He was excited about the reason they’d been made.
Our wedding.
He crooked his finger.
When I reached him, he immediately grasped my hips. A shocked laugh escaped me as he set me in the middle of the bench, where I was fed two mouthfuls of each cake and given a glass of water between to cleanse my palate.
Brey swiped buttery lemon icing from my lower lip, then licked it from his thumb. “Delicious.”
I nodded. “I think it must be this one.”
Delivering more cake to my mouth, he murmured, “I was talking about you.”
As soon as it entered my mouth, he dropped the fork and grabbed my face. He tilted it back to press his mouth against mine—and to smoosh the cake between our lips.
Laughing, I smacked at his chest and shook my head. All that managed to do was smear cake on our cheeks.
He chuckled and captured my face again to lick some cake from it. I did the same to him. As I drew back, our eyes met, and his searching of mine made me kiss him.
My slippers hit the floor as my legs wound around his waist. I used him to pull closer to the bench’s edge—until his erection pushed perfectly against my core and he was thrusting into my undergarments.
He murmured, “Good?”
“So good.”
He kissed me, tender yet cruel caresses as he continued to rock into me. Pleasure sparked and sparked until it burned, and I was clawing at his shirt.
I tore it open. My hands slid up his chest to his rigid shoulders.
Brey purred, mouth falling slack over mine. I kissed his jaw, and his hand left my face to crawl into my hair. My mouth roamed to his thudding pulse, then to where his throat bobbed with his harsh swallow.
He asked, “Are you trying to say you missed me, too?”
I hummed against his skin, then nipped it.
He hissed.
Fingers scrunching in my hair, he rolled into me harder—faster—until I was panting and reaching between us. I didn’t care that the ghost or Hanna or even one of those aforementioned feeders could walk in. I wanted him. Needed him.
But although he seemed just as desperate, he took my face in his hands. He tilted my head back. His nostrils flared as he surveyed me.
Confused, I glared at him. “Do I need to say it?”
His lips wriggled. Running his thumb over my icing-dusted cheek, he said quietly, “No, lethal. You needn’t say it.”
My heart seemed to float. The sensation rasped my voice. “Then show me just how much you missed me, Majesty.”
Before he could object, I grabbed his face and brought his mouth back to mine.
I kissed him hard. Over and over again, I fused my mouth to his with a desperation born from more than desire. I kissed him with both hunger and relief—unable to tire of his taste, his scent, and the soft shape of his lips.
It didn’t escape me that I was doing most of the showing. I certainly didn’t mind.
Brey didn’t seem to either. He cupped my breasts and gripped my hips. When his hands reached my thighs, he pulled me tight against his erection.
I gasped.
He took advantage. My head tipped as his mouth traveled to my throat. “I want,” he started. Swallowing thickly, he squeezed my thighs. “I need to feel how aroused you are.” A barely there kiss was given to my pulse. “With my fingers.”
“Yes,” I breathed.
“With my tongue.” Another kiss, right beneath my ear. “With my cock.”
I moaned.
But when I tried to inch back to move my skirts and free his cock from his pants, his hold on my thighs firmed. He tutted. “Not yet.”
“What?” I panted.
“I said…” His head rose. “Not yet.”
Staring into those drowsy eyes and noting the clenched state of his jaw, I glared at him, completely baffled.
“I need to know something, Ethel.”
My name and his unusually stern tone was a pail of cold water tossed over my head. Fear cascaded through me as I began to fret about what he might need to know. That fear sharpened my question into a blade. “Know what?”
A steely glint entered his eyes.
Wholly undeterred, he said smoothly, “Tell me why you were loitering outside your tower, looking like you’d just witnessed a massacre.”
“Loitering.” I scoffed. “I was hardly—”
A gentle kiss silenced me. Resting his forehead on mine, he urged, “Tell me.”
Knowing he wasn’t after the reason for my early and unannounced return, relief loosened my limbs. But only marginally.
Unsure how to escape explaining something that would seem foolish, that now felt very foolish, I lowered my gaze and lied, “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He tipped my chin. “You do.” Such soft words.
Yet coupled with the determined gleam in his emerald gaze, they tore into my chest like claws. My teeth scraped my lower lip as I stared at him, nervous. “The rooms,” I finally said—sighed really.
“The rooms,” Brey repeated.
I nodded. “I have my own rooms, which is to be expected. I know. And they’re quite lovely.” Wanting to be done with the subject, I smiled. “Now please…” I gripped his waist, pulling him firm against my core. “Put us both out of our misery.”
His brows lowered. “But?”
Exasperation almost made me growl, “But what?”
He took my hand from his waist and threaded our fingers. “But you never wanted to get married. Never wanted to end up like other born vampires.” With his other hand, he stroked my chin. “Living separate lives.”
Tears welled. I closed my eyes before he could see them.
Too late.
“Ethel,” he said—pleaded. “Look at me.” When I didn’t, he cursed. “Those rooms were prepared before you spent the week with me. Just in case you wanted your own space.”
My head was then tilted so he could kiss every inch of my face until I laughed and finally looked at him.
“I know,” I croaked.
He leaned back to search my features. “You don’t seem to.”
“No, I do. I just…” Gnawing on my lip again, I thought carefully about how to explain it. I couldn’t, so I released a tremulous breath and settled on, “I suppose it scared me. Seeing them.”
Brey nodded, as if he understood.
I didn’t quite believe he did. Then he said, “This scares me.”
I frowned. “This?”
“You.” He brought our laced fingers between us and stared at them. “Being here.”
“It does?”
“It does,” he said.
“Why?”
His lashes lifted. “Because it…” A slight laugh accompanied his admission. “You are a wish I never expected to come true.”
My heartbeat seemed to drag as I watched him laugh again. A forced laugh.
Color swept across his cheeks, and he released me to run a hand through his hair. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said—”
I snatched his hand and tugged him back to me. Before he could say another word, I pulled his face to mine and kissed him.
Brey inhaled a surprised breath but quickly softened against me.
I’d never been one for sweet words. They were usually nothing but lies to sneak beneath someone’s resolve and better judgment.
But honesty bled from this king’s rich voice like a song—into his actions and even his expressions—rendering me hopelessly helpless. And if it was all a ruse, then such talent deserved my surrender.
I gripped the waistband of his pants. “May I, Majesty?”
“Yes.” He kissed the corner of my mouth, my chin. “You fucking may.”
I untied the laces enough to slide my fingers between the material and his smooth skin. A hitched breath delighted me, and I kissed beneath his jaw. As soon as my fingers encountered his erection, he flinched.
Knowing it wasn’t from pain, I wrapped my hand around his cock and used the other to push his pants over his ass and free it. He was deliciously hot and heavy in my hand. My thumb swiped at the swollen head, earning me another hitched inhale as he lifted my lacy skirts.
My thighs widened, aiding his search for my sex. When he touched it, I gasped.
As he slid a finger through me, a purr rumbled. “You really did miss me.”
“A lot,” I teased.
But he heard the truth in those words, and his eyes rose to mine. Amusement wriggled his lips before he put his finger into his mouth.
Fighting a shiver, I watched him suck my arousal from the long digit.
“You know,” he said, a mischievous spark returning to his gaze. “Having a spare bed could certainly prove useful.”
My eyes refused to budge from his mouth. “Oh?”
He hummed. “Our bedding only gets washed once a week, and we have this uncanny ability to make it filthy within a few evenings.”
“Uncanny indeed.” My smile shook. “Our bedding?”
Tilting my chin, he kissed my lips. My nose. “Our rooms, lethal.” Then he stole his cock from my hand and slowly fed it to my body.
I dug my feet into his ass to take all of him.
His head fell back, a drawn-out groan cording his throat. As he straightened, he shivered. “How I was supposed to survive without this for another week…” His eyes collided with mine. “What have you done to me?”
“I’ve simply introduced you to sex, Majesty.”
He squeezed my thighs. “A grave mistake.”
I played along. “Why?”
He caught my mouth and kissed me hard before rasping, “Now all I think about is being inside you.” His next kiss was a soft graze. “Hearing your breath gain sound.” He rubbed his nose along mine. “Seeing you flush.”
I clenched him.
“Lethal,” he murmured. “I want to crawl beneath your skin and live there.”
My heart labored from more than the need to come. Stroking under his clean-shaven chin, I met his gaze. “Then how would I crawl beneath yours?”
His nostrils flared. “You’ve been there since the moment I first laid eyes on you.”
Then he moved. With his eyes fused to mine, he fucked me with slow efficiency. My breathing instantly increased. I’d been so thoroughly teased that it took a mere handful of deep plunges for me to teeter over the edge.
But although I gripped his forearms—urged him to fuck me faster—he didn’t.
As my orgasm crept through me to curl my toes and steal my breath, Brey maintained his cruel yet astonishingly perfect pace.
A wicked smile entered his eyes and curved his lips. “Good?”
He knew it was better than good. Also that I couldn’t answer. Cupping my face as if it were a delicate flower, he kissed me—then groaned when I clenched him tight.
Brey cursed. Unable to control it now, his pace quickened.
I would have felt smug. But all I could feel was dizzying pleasure, and a giddiness that made my pounding heart swell, as his mouth slammed over mine. He stilled, groaning as he emptied inside me.
I taunted, “Good, Majesty?”
He shivered, then dropped his head to my shoulder with a hoarse curse. A moment later, his nose dug into my hair, his heavy exhale stirring it. “So good I simply must have some more.”
I laughed.
He nuzzled my neck, and I laughed harder.
When I fell quiet, he whispered, “Thank you.”
Though he couldn’t see me, I arched a brow. “For the sex?”
He huffed. “Well, that too.” Rising, he captured my cheeks and kissed my forehead. “For coming back to me.”
I didn’t tell him that I was contractually bound to return to him. Evasion was impossible when I’d arrived a week before our wedding.
I just said, “You’re very welcome, Majesty.”