15. Licks and Bites
R ose looked captivating, Adrian thought, her pink eyes dancing with humor from her talk with the hawk, dewy skin flushed, and golden curls shining around her shoulders in the moonglow. She seemed soft somehow, less abrasive.
And utterly enchanting.
He seriously liked the look on her and made a mental note to plan more moonlit dinners.
And order more lavender bath supplies.
“Did you enjoy your soak?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Drinking more wine, he watched her do the same. And then she plucked a few grapes, eating them daintily. Raspberries were next, and then a thin wedge of cheese. While she ate, Adrian buttered a piece of the cinnamon bread and offered it to her. Their fingers brushed, and her cheeks went a delicate pink.
He liked that on her too.
“It is curious how you converse with Larkin.”
“I’m not sure it is conversation . I get . . . impressions. They may not be accurate.”
“He seems to understand you.”
Rose made a thoughtful sound as she took a delicate bite of the bread. Witnessing her savagery earlier had been unsettling. Her control now meant her hunger was manageable, for which he was pleased.
“You should finish your wine. It is from my favorite batch.”
“I imagine your wine cellar is quite impressive,” she replied.
“My father owns a vineyard in the southwest.”
“Your father owns more than I can imagine, I am sure.”
“Maybe. I own quite a bit as well and invest in more still.”
“You’re going to brag on your business acumen now?” she asked with amusement, the glittering pink of her eyes drawing him in.
“Has anyone ever told you that you don’t speak like a slave?”
“No one has ever conversed with me before, Your Highness. I have only ever been a number for sale, someone to do all the nasty jobs no one else likes and clean up everyone else’s messes. I’ve never been seen as a person, not even by other slaves. I am an oddity, for my skin, for my eyes, for my behaviors. I find it curious that you, of all people, would see past all that.”
“I find it curious,” Adrian said, “how no one else has seen the beauty in your uniqueness. I also find it curious how you can read and write and have a well-rounded vocabulary. You read your contract like you do so every day, and you negotiate with bravery.”
Shaking her head in instant denial, her curls swayed. Adrian watched them, still wondering if she was a secret witch weaving her spell on him. It explained his captivation, her communication skills with Larkin, and why she’d had special locks placed on her when she’d been sold for the first time.
He’d be looking into that, even if that Longhorn office had burned .
Draining his wineglass, he nudged hers closer to her again and was pleased when she lifted it to drink. His gaze was drawn to the garden, the moon shining on the shadowed plants, illuminating parts of them in silver. On impulse, he took her hand, pulled her to her feet, and led her into the grass, where the dew sparkled like diamonds at their feet.
But Rose was far fairer to look upon.
“Dance with me.”
“I don’t know how,” she admitted in a hushed whisper.
“I’ll teach you.” He set a hand on her waist, hers on his shoulder, and held her other. “Just follow me.”
She gave a short nod, so serious even with her cheeks stained with cheery color from the wine. Staring there, he began a slow dance with few steps—a simple waltz that was among the first learned by children. Though stiff as he led her through the moves, as the seconds passed, she grew more comfortable, her body relaxing.
Humming as her body went fluid, Rose closed her eyes as she followed his lead. She was either a very fast learner or she’d danced like this before. On a whim, he spun her, dipped her, enjoyed the way she laughed, and pulled her back to find her pink eyes dancing with merriment.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“My father.”
“Father?”
Rose nodded, her eyes lit from within, sparkling with an inner fire. It only added to her moonlit glow. “I think he taught me to dance when I was young. I enjoyed watching him and Mother. There is one . . .” Adjusting position slightly, she started a more upbeat dance with more steps in a wider square pattern. Adrian followed flawlessly and then took the lead .
They moved around the garden, Rose grinning brightly, laughing as he spun her out, pulled her close, and dipped her again. That laughter continued as she easily followed his transition to a swifter dance.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was positively radiant, and he wanted so much more. With his hands on her tiny waist, he pulled her closer, pleased when she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her warm fingers flirted with the short hair at his nape as she smiled at him.
He wanted to kiss her. The lavender scent of her was intoxicating, wrapping around his senses, muddling his brain. He recalled the taste of her blood and wondered how her mouth compared. His eyes dropped there, and her lips parted. He pressed his there, enjoying her little gasp. Easing away an inch, he ran the tip of his tongue along her bottom lip. She opened more, inviting him in, and part of him reveled in her acquiescence.
Finally, she was giving in to what he’d known all along that she felt. He was not alone in this crazy attraction.
Tilting his head, he delved into the heat of her mouth, licking along her tongue. She moaned, gripping his shoulders, and he slid a hand up into her thick curls, tilting her head more to deepen the kiss further. His tongue played with hers, silkily sliding, caressing, and then he lightly sucked, teasing until she was panting.
Hesitant and uncertain, she tentatively kissed him back. When she turned away to catch her breath, he kissed along the edge of her jaw. He nicked her shallowly with his fangs, licking up the slight blood he drew and sealing the little cuts with his venom.
It was selfish, taking that tiny taste of her, but it wasn’t enough for her to miss. Her flavor blasted through him anyway, an inferno igniting him from the inside. His fangs tingled with wanting more. Between his legs, his cock throbbed.
Never before had he been so turned on.
But she was still recovering, malnourished, and likely exhausted from the events of the day. She needed rest.
So, thinking of her welfare, Adrian lifted his head to examine her. She appeared dazed, her lips swollen from his kisses, and his need pulsed with greater urgency. Ignoring it, he instead ran a finger along her graceful neck, marred only by a pink ring where her slavery collar had been.
“You are healed,” he murmured.
“Am I?” Somewhat breathless, she cleared her throat and eased back. “It was Larkin, I think.”
“Larkin?” Another stroke with gentle fingertips elicited a shiver. “This would be the first he’s shown healing tendencies.”
“I felt it.”
Adrian wanted to ask more but focused instead on petting the column of her throat. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she tilted her head in invitation of more.
“You’re so chilly,” she whispered with another shiver, her skin stippling.
“And you are warm, delicious Rose.”
She giggled. “I’ve never been called delicious. I never let masters drink from me.”
“I have tasted you twice now and will do far more in the future.”
“So arrogant.” Rose sighed.
“Confident.”
She was so damn enticing he had to lean in and lick her throat. The tremor that shook her, the trembling breath she released, shot straight to his loins. Her head fell back, and he found himself nicking her as he had earlier, giving her shallow cuts that he instantly sealed with his tongue. It was a tease for both of them, especially as Rose’s breathing grew erratic.
“Do you like it when I lick you, sweet Rose?”
“Y-yes. ”
He opened a slightly deeper cut, licking the blood trail slowly. His eyes rolled at her flavor—and the low moan she gave. “Do you wish more?”
“N-not too deep,” she breathed, clutching him as he found a delicate spot just under her ear. Her hair fluttered as he breathed into the tresses, teasingly dragging his drinking teeth over her skin without breaking it. She panted in his ear, clutching him as if desperate to hold on.
And then she passed out, fainted dead away in his arms.
He cursed under his breath, easily lifting her, and took her into his resting room to lie on the sofa. He sat beside her, running the back of his hand along her face. Her breathing became slow and regular as he waited for her to wake. It didn’t take long, and she immediately became confused. She tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down with gentle hands.
“You will rest. It has been an eventful evening, and you need to recover.” He ran the back of his hand over her cheek again, feeling soft as her eyes drooped, and she tried to stifle a yawn.
“I fainted?”
“My fault.”
“Admitting guilt?” Rose reached up to feel his brow. “Do you feel alright?”
He pulled her wrist to his mouth for a kiss before returning her hand to her belly. “Sleep. I will have your things and a nice breakfast waiting when you wake.”
“We’ve been together all night. When is my shift?”
“Don’t worry about that.” He kissed her softly, just a gentle brush of his mouth over hers. She responded instantly and he loved that, though it made it harder to pull away. “Damn temptress toying with me when I can’t have you. ”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t prey on the weak,” she teased. And then her brows furrowed as she realized what she’d called herself. “Shouldn’t I go to my quarters?”
“Not in your condition. You will remain right where I put you.”
“So bossy.” But she made no effort to move. “Would it be too much trouble to ask for water?”
“Hardly.” He went back to the breakfast room to pour a glass from the pitcher that accompanied their dinner. He also took her another slice of bread and then sat beside her until both were gone.
“Thank you,” she said with a yawn.
“Sleep,” he said again, bending to kiss her forehead. He watched her eyes droop until she fell asleep, and then he left. In the hallway, he looked to the shadows.
“Watch over her, Timothy. I was careful, but word will get around. She is your new assignment.” He strode to his office without waiting for a response, knowing he’d be obeyed without question.
Javier was his most loyal employee—until lately—but Timothy was his most trusted bodyguard. He’d do well watching over his Rose.
Because she was his, he’d decided, and he would take care of her.
There would be a flurry over what he’d done, but he hoped to steer it beneficially as he had so far.
And he could always turn the focus to the still-rising werewolf tensions.
Or the marriage mart that was always a hot topic.
His work was stacked on his desk. His butler may have been disagreeable as of late, but he still did his job.
Before sitting, Adrian took off his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. Looking to the door, he eyed the attendant standing at the ready and then looked to Horace, who smirked as he dismissed the other male and closed the door. He knew Adrian wanted privacy and would guard him from the shadows.
The night had gone well, he decided, though it had ended too soon. He’d gotten to kiss Rose as he’d longed to for what seemed like ages. She’d been susceptible to his advances, even after maintaining she was immune. A surprisingly willing participant in the evening’s romantics, she’d pleased him, aroused him, so much that he undid his pants and pulled out his hard and aching cock.
He stroked himself to memories of their evening. The taste of her lingered on his tongue, the scent of her delicate lavender fragrance remained on his clothing where she’d pressed so close, and the needy sounds she’d made echoed in his ears. She’d wanted to share more just as he had. She’d clung to him, desperate as he was desperate. She’d panted as he was now panting, his wick getting wetter with each squeeze and twist of his hand.
Moon Goddess, he wanted more . More of those fiery eyes glimmering with humor at his antics, more of that witty humor that wasn’t intimidated by his crown, more of that hot mouth on his.
And her taste . He was addicted, and he’d had naught but a few drops.
Rose , his thoughts cried out as he stroked faster, hips pumping his cock in his fist as he pictured her smiling face, playful and radiant, those golden curls falling about her shoulders, and the pink of her irises staring into his.
“I can’t wait until next we meet, Your Highness. Will you lick me more?”
“Fuck,” he gasped, his head falling back, abdomen clenching as he came where he sat, seminal fluid jetting in spurts to coat his hand and splatter his belly in stripes. Spent, breathing shallowly, he went lax in his chair.
This female would be his undoing.