Chapter 16 #2
Instead, I crawled into bed after two, no, three glasses of wine.
I left the doors to the balcony cracked slightly, allowing for a breeze that contrasted nicely with the fireplace and the fur blankets.
I tossed and turned, begging for sleep to come, but it would not.
What I wouldn’t have given for some sort of magic powder to knock me out and free me from the misery that consumed my thoughts.
Countless visions of those nude bodies would not evade me.
Each individual, of every shape and size, all stunning in their writhing and rhythmic lovemaking.
Their faces wearing pleasurable expressions.
Scenes of men caressing other men; women on their knees before other women.
Bodies of couples and trios, many sharing in one another’s ecstasy.
An astounding solution to boredom, I mused to myself.
But here, alone in the royal bed, I was beginning to feel awfully bored myself, and soon the throbbing ache I had ignored earlier began to surface again.
It wasn’t that I truly longed for Vastion, but I was beginning to pine for his presence, for his familiar face.
For the way he was curt with me, which somehow made him even more attractive.
For the way I intentionally pushed him to his edge to see his dominance surface.
The way his chiseled jawline looked by the glow of the fireplace.
It wasn’t long before all these memories of him and the way he utterly infuriated me gave way to my nails scraping across my skin, applying the kind of angry force a man displays when claiming what is his.
I squeezed my breasts again, this time harder than when I was in the Falls, and I let the traitorous moan escape my mouth freely.
My back arched into the soft sheets, and for a brief moment I found myself inhaling the inescapable scent of him in this bed.
My legs and body twisted and stretched as I pushed my fingertips in further, granting myself all that I had desired only hours earlier.
In the safety and comfort of my solitude, I let myself think of their fangs, the sharp tips piercing that woman’s supple flesh and the way the crimson liquid had dripped down her navel.
The way her lover lapped it up greedily, something sensual in the sickness of the act.
Something I hated myself deeply for craving. A curiosity I could not reconcile.
I writhed against my hand and continued the rhythmic motion till my orgasm came roaring forth and a meek cry left my lips.
Quiet enough that no one would rush to my aid thinking I’d been injured.
My taut muscles went limp, and my body relaxed into the soft mattress beneath me.
Tired from my depravity, I rolled over onto my side, cradling a pillow against my body and finally feeling the tug of sleep, and the dreamland awaiting me.
Hours later I awoke abruptly to the sudden weight of another body pressing down on me, eclipsing my entire length with the dense mass of a male form. I started to scream, but my mouth was quickly covered by a hand and a voice, a familiar voice, speaking in a husky growl.
“Do not scream.”
I felt his hand soften across my lips.
“You will not scream in this bed, unless it is from pleasure. Do you understand me?”
I nodded fearfully below his grasp, and he gently removed his palm from my mouth.
“Vastion?” I said, exasperated from how he’d awoken me. “What are you doing here?”
“You,” he said, his voice a staccato, “You invite another man to my table. You take breakfast with him. You traipse up and down my city at his side.” His anger was indicated by the pressure of his hand around my wrist where it rested beside my head.
“You visited the House of the Dreamless. And, against our advice, dear Esiree, you dared to visit the Icaria Falls.”
I felt his hips pressed against my thin nightgown, his strong form weighing me down, and this was not how I had imagined this encounter.
I went to speak, to make an excuse, anything to quell his anger, but he removed his hand from my wrist and tightly grasped my neck just beneath my jaw.
It wasn’t painful at all—but it bound me to his whim as his face hovered close to mine.
He ran his nose along my neck, inhaling my scent deeply.
“And as if that wasn’t enough to ignite my fury, then know this: The next time you touch yourself, it will be by my permission, in my presence or by my hand. Do you understand?”
I felt his cock stiffen between my thighs and the sheet separating us as he made his bold threat.
“I didn’t—” He cut me off before I could make even the slightest excuse.
“Brave. Little. Liar. Don’t test me. I am going to have to take a much firmer hand with you.”
Now that I was indeed awake, my senseless bravery was threatening to rear its ugly head again. I quipped, “Your firm hand was unavailable.”
He growled once more, low and steady. I could feel the vibration of his chest against my breasts.
“Is that an invitation, wife?” He enunciated the last word while removing his hand from my throat, sliding it slowly along the top of the sheet and down my side, causing my skin to tingle.
“I will never fuck a vampire,” I swore through gritted teeth, my voice shakier than I’d have liked.
But now his hand was pressed firmly against my hip bone and still making its way lower.
“You may not want to fuck me, but you’re dying to fuck my hand.”
His fingers crept gently atop the sheet, now cupping my sex fully, and my chest began to swell in anticipation. There was no denying how enticing he looked, leaning over me with his hand between the two of us. Just waiting, daring me to deny him.
“You’re already wet for me. Tell me you don’t want this,” he taunted, pushing a finger against my entrance then pausing.
I hated him. I despised him for putting me in this position.
His absence. His crazy Vampyr bathhouse.
The entire thing was maddening and messing with my sensibilities.
Suddenly I felt a sensation unlike any I’d ever felt in my entire life.
Like the vibration of riding a horse but a hundred times faster.
I tried to utter, “I…I don’t…want!” But the arousal it caused between my thighs forced a traitorous cry from my lips.
He leaned in and whispered beside my ear, “You don’t want what?”
“This,” I panted, unable to ignore the orgasm that was quickly climbing its way through me. And just as the thought passed my mind, so too did the feeling vanish. Vastion removed his hand entirely, leaving me wanton with unmet desire.
He then lifted himself up off me, and even in the dim firelight I could see the outline of his rigid form beneath his trousers.
He began to walk away from me, towards the exit, then declared boldly, “I do so look forward to the day my wife begs me for pleasure. I’m more than obliged to be at her whims when that day comes.
” He slammed the door behind him, leaving me speechless and enraged.