CHAPTER 3
Aimee
Those first chords of music, coming from the live orchestra placed behind the stage, are always such a rush.
My skin is buzzing with excitement as I hum the sensual piano notes I know by heart.
My number starts with me unfurling slowly from the ceiling, my legs wrapped in golden aerial ribbons.
I turn in the air once, twice, before stopping mid-air in a perfect split.
I look at the crowd of Fae males and vampires gathered tonight, sitting at various tables draped in pink crushed velvet, sipping on faerie wine or blood, and watching my movements with hungry, transfixed eyes.
Next, I glide my hands up my torso, almost touching my breasts, before I playfully blow some kisses to my audience.
The huge, luxurious crystal chandeliers hold golden candles that give the space an ethereal glow.
Everything screams opulence at The Twinkling Meadow, from the plush cerise and buttercream sofas, to the translucent quartz flutes they serve the faerie wine in, or the walls covered in actual little gold leaves.
The server girls are gliding effortlessly between the tables, like sensual dancers caught in perpetual movement.
They balance on their delicate limbs, the shimmering trays filled with the best wines money can buy, as well as freshly bled human essence for our vampiric patrons.
We serve pleasure and decadent splendor here, and every little detail has to look and sound the part. Even the music. Especially us.
The beautiful, haunting sound of a cello joins the piano, sending a strong vibrato cadence through my bloodstream.
I unhook my legs from the silken wraps and gather all my upper body strength to do a double cartwheel.
The move is so fast; it looks like I’m floating for a couple of seconds.
I grip the wraps once again and slide down a few more inches towards the ground.
The release has my heart beating faster, and the crowd roaring in glee.
I let myself hang upside down from the ribbons, my chocolate locks swaying in rhythm with the music.
I love seeing the crowd from this tilted viewpoint.
Their hungry gazes glide down my body, from my toes to the ends of my wavy curls.
Securing my legs in the ribbons, I unhook my arms so I can unfasten the shimmering veiled skirt from my waist and throw it to the audience.
A vampire jumps from his seat with lightning speed and catches the garment before it touches the ground.
He pockets it unabashedly. I’ve lost count of how many pieces of clothing I’ve misplaced that way throughout the years.
I throw him a playful wink before using my upper body strength to return to a normal position.
Aimee might be wary of vampires, but Celestia has a show to perform, and she doesn’t treat the patrons differently based on their race.
I swing back and forth towards the edge of the stage, preparing to jump, just as the music reaches a crescendo.
When I land with grace on the wide table closest to the stage, the males erupt in vigorous claps and loud whistles.
I stalk on all fours towards the male in front of me, a blond Fae with deep, forest-green eyes, who holds his breath while I climb into his lap.
Winking playfully, I roll my curvy figure on top of him, and I can feel his body’s reaction almost instantly.
It gives me such a power trip to have control over this interaction, knowing full well how devastatingly attracted he is to me, but that he can’t do anything about it.
Look, but don’t touch.
That is the one cardinal rule of the Twinkling Meadow, and the patrons know better than to disobey it.
In a smooth movement, I detangle myself from him and continue my prowl around the room, looking for the perfect target for my performance’s ending.
I spot Khain a few tables in the back, his turquoise eyes drinking me in. I make my approach seem random, although I know his powerful frame well, having taken the White Shadow-bringer to my bed a few times already.
White Shadows are the most common type of shadows a Fae can possess, looking like a foggy mist that envelops one’s senses, being wielded by the kingdom’s army as a diversion tactic.
I slide languidly into his lap, making a show out of spreading my legs wide as I straddle him.
“Hi, baby,” I say in his ear as I drag my fingertips up and down his bulging biceps.
“Hi, gorgeous.” He throws me a crooked smile. He knows what’s coming, and he is more than happy to oblige as I angle his face towards me and give him a ghost of a kiss, as the last melodic notes of my performance die out.
The crowd goes wild around us, the thundering applause drowning out all other noise. I can hear several males begging for my attention, promising me the world on a silver platter, and riches beyond my wildest imagination. I ignore them all.
“Come meet me upstairs in ten,” I say to Khain as I slide off him and sashay towards the exit.
I climb the last few steps to the first floor, a bottle of the finest champagne in hand. Being the star performer of the establishment has its perks, even if they are not monetary.
I enter the dim hallway, sultry shadows dancing on the rose gold walls from the few candles burning, perfuming the air with sandalwood. Ten intricate doors lay on both sides of the hallway, and I direct my steps to the second room on the left, where I know Khain is waiting for me.
Downstairs the men are not allowed to touch us, but if they get lucky enough to be chosen by any of the girls, they can rent one room upstairs for a night of bliss.
I twist the doorknob and slip inside the room.
The walls are painted a rich plum color, and a massive four-poster bed stands in the middle of the chamber.
Khain sits on the velvet couch on the right side, his legs kicked up on the small wooden table in front of him.
His chestnut locks are tousled, as if he’s been dragging his fingers through his hair, and his crisp white shirt is already half unbuttoned.
He’s a fine specimen, as Sariah would say, with toned muscles and long legs.
I can almost see my roommate giving me the thumbs up for following through with her advice, and choosing Khain as my lover for the night.
“Finally, gorgeous. Never had ten minutes seemed like a lifetime,” he says as he throws me a lazy smile and motions me to close the distance between us with a come-hither gesture.
“Oh, baby, don’t tell me you’ve missed me?” I say flirtatiously as I make my way to him begrudgingly slow. I place the bottle on the table and stand in front of him, waiting for his next move.
“You know damn well I did.” He makes a low growl sound that sends shivers down my spine, and grabs the back of my thighs, bringing me on top of him on the midnight black sofa.
“Good thing, then, we have all night to remedy that.” I purr in his ear as my hands find their way under his shirt, feeling every bump and ridge of his muscular torso.
Khain wastes no more time and grabs a fistful of my hair, crashing his soft lips against mine, his tongue prodding immediately.
I part my lips and let the kiss deepen as his tongue explores my mouth, eliciting a low moan from me.
Our tongues swirl around each other, and I nip at his bottom lip, his fingers tightening in my hair in response.
“Gods, Aimee, I want you so fucking bad,” he rasps and pushes his hips upwards, letting me know the truth of his words. And what a glorious truth that is.
“Then have me, Khain,” I murmur between kisses. “I’m all yours for the remainder of the night.”
Khain takes his time unhooking my leather bra, exposing my plump breasts to his inquisitive eyes. He pauses for a second to drink me in before latching his mouth onto one of my taut nipples. He teases me by licking and sucking while grabbing the champagne bottle from the table and uncorking it.
“First, I want to taste this delicacy,” he says as he pours the bubbly liquid onto my chest. He laps the champagne from my breasts, his tongue twirling, tasting, biting, and a gush of wetness pools between my thighs.
I luxuriate in the heady feeling deep in my belly as I start rolling my hips on his hardness.
The friction is exquisite, and we both moan in unison as he flips us on the couch, settling himself between my thighs.
His movements become frenzied as he slides my glittery thong down my legs and starts unfastening his pants.
To be wanted with so much fervor, yet to have the power to end it all with a simple word, makes my blood boil in a way that nothing else does.
I am the one in control here.
The knowledge that he could overpower me in an instant, but that he would never in a million years do such a thing, makes me feel invincible.
Unstoppable.
Almost magical.
I promised myself a long time ago that I would never again feel powerless when it came to this. Sex is a double-edged blade, and I would not once be on the wrong side of that blade ever again.
Not like when I was barely entering womanhood and… No, no, no! I push the unwelcome thoughts away, slamming a heavy mental door against them. I will not let the dreadful echoes of the past ruin the heady pleasure of this moment. They’ve sullied enough already.
I grab his rock-hard cock and press the crown of his erection against my glistening folds.
“Take me, Khain. I want to feel you inside me now!”
He crushes his lips against my own as he angles his body just the right way and enters me in one swift thrust of his hips. The fullness is absolutely delicious, and I meet him halfway, thrust after thrust, as he pins both my hands above my head.
“Heavens above, gorgeous! You’re so wet for me.”
Khain grabs my thigh and pushes my knee towards my chest, driving into me frantically.
The scorching need in me bubbles to the surface, and I know I am moments away from my climax. I moan and writhe against him, chasing my own pleasure with urgency.
His mouth clamps down on my nipple, and the sting of his bite takes me overboard.
I explode in a rush of tingles that wash over me from head to toe.
My inner walls squeeze him in a death grip, and the tensing of his muscles lets me know he’s almost there too.
His movements become sloppy, and with two final, powerful thrusts, he spills into me as my name falls repeatedly from his sweet mouth.
He makes me come twice more throughout the night, with his mouth and his cock.
Each release is sweeter than the last, and I feel my mind finally unwinding.
I can almost agree with Sariah. Sex is a potent remedy for my anxiety.
Drowning my brain in endorphins is therapeutic as hell. Too bad it doesn’t last.
Hours later we lie spent, our limbs tangled in the satin sheets of the bed.
My head is on his chest as his arms wrap around me almost protectively.
I am sated and content, and as I’m drifting to sleep, I hear him whisper into the silence of the chamber.
“I desire to do this for real, Aimee. To hold you every night, for the rest of our lives. To get lost in each other on our own terms. I want to love you in the daylight.”
“Mmm” is my non-committal answer, before slumber takes me under.
Such a pity, though. Unbeknownst to him, this had been our last night together. With just a few tender sentences, he has brought our time together to an abrupt end.