20. Unrestrained
W hen they came to the clearing he had in mind, they dismounted and Adrian pulled a blanket from Martinet’s saddlebags, spreading it in the shade. He then pulled out their meal—a bottle of wine, fruit that he knew Rose liked, and a nut muffin. They then let the horses wander a few steps away to graze on the short tufts of grass.
“They won’t stray,” Adrian said confidently while he sat and poured the wine into two silver goblets. Rose watched him, eating the strawberries which were only slightly squashed.
“Wine with breakfast?” she asked teasingly, accepting her cup and taking a sip.
“This is a very late dinner for me, so that’s your luck.” Adrian stretched out on his side across from where she sat on her knees.
She took another sip of wine. “What of your meal?”
“I am hoping you will allow me a real bite today.” Adrian watched her mouth as she ate a few of the luscious raspberries, also slightly squashed. She flushed as she reached for the muffin, picking off a small piece to nibble .
“Are you asking permission?”
“Would you grant it?” he asked with hooded eyes.
She looked off at the grazing horses, and he followed her gaze. It was a romantic sight, the pair of them in the lightening dawn, mist around their feet as they slowly ate the grass that would be hard to clean off their bridle bits.
Rose was far fairer to look upon as she sipped more wine and fidgeted her fingers on the stem of her glass. Adrian sipped, too, appreciating the acrid sweetness, before topping off their glasses.
“Would you grant me permission?” he repeated so she knew he was serious. Most females were more than willing, but Rose was different. She didn’t flutter at his titles or position or bend over backward to please him.
He appreciated that about her.
But he also knew she’d experienced cruelty with her past masters and wasn’t sure if that included biting or not. The wave of possessiveness that hit him, thinking of another’s fangs anywhere near her, had him seeing red.
Rose was his, and no one would dare touch her again.
After draining his cup, he sat up to set it aside. Noticing hers was empty, he took it as well. When he moved closer to her, Rose fiddled with the bottom edge of her coat.
“No need to be shy, sweet Rose.” He brushed her blonde curls off her shoulder, his fingers grazing her neck. “I won’t touch you without permission, but you should know I long to.” He leaned closer, whispering in her ear, “I crave you.” He kissed her neck, right over her racing pulse. “The taste of you”—he gave her a little lick—“the smell of you”—he inhaled the lightly floral scent of her—“the feel of you”—and he gathered her close. “Tell me I can touch you. Tell me you want me to.”
“Prince Adrian,” she breathed, the first time she’d said his name. It surged through him, fire in his veins that only grew stronger when she ran her fingers through his hair, gently pulling him closer until his lips met hers. She kissed him softly, tentatively, but grew bold as it drew on, as he stroked her jaw.
He took control, plunging his tongue into her mouth as he would his cock into her cunt. He reveled in the way she hummed, gripping his hair more tightly, and pressed herself to him. She met him, just as ardent, just as passionate.
He nipped her lip, opening a small cut, and though she whimpered, it was a sound of want. He sucked the plump tissue into his mouth, and she moaned. He dipped back into her mouth, the invigorating taste of her not nearly enough, but would not take more without her say-so. Withholding it was a way for her to keep control, he knew, when she felt like she had none.
Little did she know she had him by the balls.
Goddess, he wanted her to touch his balls. He wanted her to lick them, suck them, and take his cock deep inside her body. He desired her with a physical ache bordering on pain. It clouded his reasoning with a haze of lust so thick it was all he could think about.
If he could sink himself into her and sate his desire, maybe it would fade. Maybe the wild want he had would finally abate and he could go back to being the cool-headed Prince he’d always been.
But then she bit his bottom lip, copying what he’d done, and all his thoughts scattered. She dragged her teeth, scraping in a way that made his cock throb harder, and he groaned. She kissed along his jaw, nibbling along the edge, and then licked under the corner.
She was learning fast, the vixen, and he loved every second.
She kissed his neck, right where his pulse raced, just as he had hers. Did it make her crazy knowing the effect she had on him?
Maybe so because she said, “Bite me.”
“Pardon?” The clear order sent a shock through him. He eased away to stare down at her.
“Bite me,” she repeated, tilting her head to bare her neck. He focused there, on the beat of her blood. “You’re hungry,” she said in a sultry tone. “Feed.”
He didn’t need to be told again. He petted her pulse, watching her eyes flutter with the touch, and then slid his hand around the back of her neck. Leaning in, he kissed her where he’d just been petting, and then gently sucked.
“Prince Adrian, please.”
He chuckled against her skin. “So impatient now, sweet Rose, after making me wait so long. That just won’t do.” He licked her again. “I want to savor this.
“Please,” she begged, music to his ears. “Please, my Prince.”
His world went still at her claim of him, a moment frozen, and then his heart raced. His fingers began undoing the buttons on her jacket, frantic to touch. He dragged his fangs along her skin as he opened her outermost layer and ran his hand over her corset beneath.
“Say it again.”
“Please,” she begged breathlessly as he continued to prep her neck with licks and gentle sucking.
Finally, finally, he opened his mouth wide and tilted his head, positioning his fangs over her vein. When he punctured her, she made another of those whimpers that sang through him, her body stiffening at the pinch of pain, but then she went soft and pliant as he began drinking, his venom flooding her with euphoria.
He moaned, eyes rolling in his head as he drank deep. Having his fangs sunk in her was rapture; the heat, the flavor lighting his senses, the electrifying life that beat in her sustenance. He rarely let himself share this level of intimacy with anyone, but with Rose, he only craved more.
Sliding his hand up the fine boning of her corset to her chest, he cupped a small breast. She moaned in his ear, pressing into him, and breathed yes . The word shocked him and then made him feel almost frantic. He fed more aggressively, pulling deeper as she tilted her head more, and teased her nipple. It pebbled in his fingers, begging him to continue tweaking as her thick blood slid down his throat.
He didn’t want to stop drinking, but it would be so easy to take too much, and he couldn’t have her passing out again. He slowed his suction, eventually stopped even the small trickle, and gently licked her to seal the punctures. She’d likely bruise, and the bite would be visible for a day or so.
Another reason he preferred to drink from a cup.
But he liked the idea of marking her, even if it wasn’t smart for others to see. He’d have to find her some high-necked dresses. Or bite her somewhere less conspicuous in the future.
Still caressing her breast, he lifted his head, taking in her closed eyes and parted lips. She opened those eyes, dazed and unfocused, and he had to kiss her again. She didn’t seem to mind her taste on his tongue, and it was just another thing to fuel his fantasies.
Some females couldn’t stand the taste of blood.
But his Rose, Gods above, he was beginning to think she was perfect.
His hand drifted down to her waist and slipped under the waistband of her skirt. He urged her to part her knees, swallowing the sound she made, and brushed the heat between her thighs over the fabric of her underwear. She jerked as if shocked, fingers clutching him, and he bit back a moan at her responsiveness.
“Can I touch you, sweet Rose? Can I pet this pussy until you come all over my fingers? ”
She whimpered again, breath fanning his face as she panted. He brushed her again, a light feathery touch, and her fingers flexed on him, the needy sound repeating as she gave him a whisper of a kiss. She opened her legs wider in invitation.
“Yes. Please yes.”
With a low growl, he kissed her heatedly, his fingers sliding into her drawers, over the mound of her mons, and into her tuft of curls. She was soaking, and he moaned as he kissed her, sucking her tongue as he slid a finger through her folds. Her hips jerked, seeking pressure where she needed it. He parted the lips of her sex to expose the nub of her clitoris and rubbed her in small circles.
“Oh!” Fisting his hair, she kissed him harder as he sped up, and her hips began moving in time. His cock leaked, balls tightening. Her head fell to his shoulder, her hips stuttered, and he knew she was close.
“Come, Rose,” he ordered, his voice gravelly with need. He moved his fingers in a fury, pressing harder to give her more friction, and moaned as she shuddered, wetness soaking his hand as she cried out her pleasure.
Before she’d come down all the way, he unfastened his pants and let his cock bob free. With her dazed eyes taking in the sight of him, mouth dropping open in a gasp, he took himself in hand, his other cupping her sex with possession. With his eyes locked on hers on him, exalting in the way they widened, in the way she bit her lip, he stroked himself, fast and hard. Rubbing the heel of his other hand over her clit, he dipped the tip of his middle finger in and out of her channel.
“This is what you do to me, Rose,” he bit out, working himself faster as she rubbed herself on his hand, chasing another orgasm as she watched him chase his. “You make me fucking crazy. Come again. Your Prince demands it.” Heat gathered at the base of his spine, drawing up his balls and preparing for release .
“You come for me,” she rasped, grinding down, riding his hand like a wild thing. Her little shudder said she was just as close as he was. “Come, my Prince. Show me.”
“Fuck yes,” he growled as the pressure released. Turning slightly, aiming away from her, he grunted, continuing to stroke until every drop was drained from his cock, shot onto the blanket as more of her wetness drenched his hand as she came too.
“Oh, dear Goddess.” She slumped against him, breath heaving. “That was . . . I like seeing you like that.”
“Coming?” He chuckled when she tucked her face in the crook of his neck. She nodded against him and, after a deep breath, sat back, adjusting her clothing. He put his dick away, lips twitching as her eyes remained on him.
“I like seeing the unrestrained Prince under the regal mask.”
“Ah. Well, I appreciate the loose female who finally admits what she wants.”
Face clouding, Rose began picking up breakfast. “I am not loose ,” she grumbled.
Adrian snickered, gathering her close to kiss her nose. “Only for me.” He tipped her chin up, so she met his eyes. “I like you wanting, panting, and exalting. Let’s go for a gallop and give these horses a real workout before we return to the palace and have another round.”
They didn’t get that other round, however, because the stables were busy after their run. It was better for them to separate to avoid speculation. Adrian took a sweaty Martinet to the stallion barn and directed Rose to the larger barn that housed the mares and geldings.
She’d gotten nervous toward the end of their ride, withdrawing back into herself as she was prone to, and though he requested she meet him in his private quarters in fifteen minutes, he was not at all surprised when she didn’t show.
“Ah, Rose.” He sighed, relaxing into his bed in the comforting darkness of his bedroom. “My lovely, fiery little fighter. It’s so sweet when you surrender . . .”