CHAPTER 14
Aimee
Another two days pass, and I swear the lecherous dreams are turning preposterous.
I just woke up from one, and I palm the back of my head, my skin hot and clammy.
I kick the covers with my feet, the red slip on satin nightgown clinging to my overheated body.
My nipples are taut to the point that it’s painful, and I rub together my drenched thighs.
Dream Killian overpowered me in the hallway, pushing me against the stone-cold walls and discarding my flimsy panties before I could even gasp. He pushed his rock-hard cock in between my ass cheeks, while pinning my arms above my head with one hand, and pushing my legs further apart with his knees.
Unlike my usual nightmares about the gangly youths forcing themselves upon me, this time around, arousal coursed through my veins instead of dread. I pushed my ass into his erection and moaned, while he grabbed the sides of my dress and pulled roughly, tearing it at the seams.
His wicked tongue lapped languidly at the pulse point at my neck, and his other hand found its way between my legs.
“So drenched, little umbra,” he all but purred in my ear. “Are you ready?” I whimpered in response, lost in the avalanche of sensations flooding my body.
At the same time his fingers found my entrance, pushing three inside at once, crooking them almost instantly to hit that sweet spot at my core, the crown of his cock slipped past my cheeks and into my ass, filling me in a throbbing, excruciating slow manner.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” I panted, losing any semblance of composure.
I was burning up; my skin felt like one thousand degrees, and only his smoldering touches could soothe the fire within.
He started a punishing rhythm, his fingers crisscrossing relentlessly, while his cock pushed and retreated, only to push harder and farther inside.
I could feel the pleasure gaining traction, up, up, surge after surge forming a tidal wave of violent rapture that threatened to drown me. I was on the precipice, about to crest the surface, when the dream shattered and I woke up a sweaty, hyperventilating mess.
It’s been like this for over a fortnight now, my erotic night encounters dissolving into thin air before I can succumb to the ecstasy and find release.
For the first week, I tried to chase my sensual euphoria with my own fingers, but any meek climax I could bring forth was more dispiriting than anything else.
It all left me ravenous, to the point of breaking.
I had put all my hopes into Blaise fulfilling that need, but since that idea went up in flames, I have nothing else left up my sleeve. If that imperious rake won’t touch me, what chance do I have to find a willing body in this damned kingdom?
I’ve even started to consider taking Killian to bed once, just once, to flush him out of my system. Once can’t hurt, right? It’s probably not even going to live up to the hype that I’ve concocted in my head.
Who the fuck am I kidding? There is no way that male won’t shatter me into pieces to such a degree that no amount of magic I don’t even possess could mend me back together.
I am usually all in when it comes to instant gratification, but exploring this side of him would damage me to a point of no return.
I can feel it in my bones. And if you add on top of this, whatever cruel torture my sister would put me through if she ever found out that I got tangled up with the Crimson One, it’s blatantly obvious why I have to control these ridiculous urges.
Aurora will not take kindly to my sampling her cake, even if she loathes the flavor, having been raised to defeat the Vampire King.
He is hers to kill or to fuck, according to the prophecy. It’s as stark as that.
I toss and turn in bed for another half an hour before I accept defeat. Sleep won’t come back so easily. I glance at the pendulum clock on the far right wall, and it’s a little bit over midnight. The castle seems asleep, with no sounds coming at all from the hallway.
I crave the liquid relief that a bottle of Fae wine can bring me, so I saunter to the door, not bothering with covering myself with a shawl. The trip to the kitchens and back shouldn’t take me that long, and maybe getting drunk is the solution. A temporary one, but a solution nevertheless.
I open the door and stumble upon the object of my desire himself, all disheveled and dripping carnal intensity, his fist halted mid-air, poised to knock.
I take in his rumpled appearance, his dark shirt unbuttoned halfway, exposing his tanned chest and crimson tattoos that swirl on the edges of his frame, creating the optical illusion of slight movement.
Must he always look this infernally mouthwatering?
“You’re up,” he says at the same time I whisper, “You’re back.” I take a step back into my room. My pulse is fluttering in my neck. This is the opposite of steering clear of him.
Don’t come in. Don’t come in. I chant like a prayer in my head, as I cling in desperation to the last remnant of my lucidity.
He crosses the threshold and closes the entrance behind him.
Of course, there are no Gods, holy or unholy, to listen to my pleas and grant me a little leniency.
It’s much more entertaining to let me squirm and anguish myself.
They probably have bets going on about how fast and how hard I am going to fall. Omnipotent jerks!
“I arrived a few hours ago, and got updated on the latest reports.” His gaze lingers lazily on the crook of my neck, lowering to my shoulders, my cleavage and my still taut nipples.
His jaw ticks, and his fingers clench at his side.
“I heard you gave Blaise a run for his money, jumping on him like that. He had to nurse that boner for a whole day after. His words, not mine.” He regards me in a way that raises the hairs on the back of my neck. No fucking way!
“He… he told you? That conniving busybody! That… that obnoxious tattletale!” I take another few steps back, and he matches my retreat with steady strides.
“Well, what did you expect, little umbra? That you’ll attempt to seduce my second-in-command, and I won’t find out?
” he snorts in disdain. “I know everything that happens in my domain. And more so, everything pertaining to subjects of my utmost interest.” A lone shadowy tendril creeps out from under his open shirt and caresses softly the outside of my right arm.
The gesture is so tender, so intimate, that I shudder in response.
“You… you’re not mad?” I feel like a kid caught with his hands in the cookie jar, expecting a punishment that never comes.
“A bit stunned, sure. But not mad, no. Nothing really happened, did it? And my best guess is, it was your way of coping with whatever this is between us.” I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, chewing anxiously. The lone tendril moves upwards, gently tugging my lip free.
“Do you know why I call you umbra?”
I shake my head no. I’ve imagined it’s some sort of meaningless endearment in the old vampire language.
“Umbra means shadow in our long-lost tongue.”
“But I have no shadows. No powers,” I mumble, confused.
“You have no outward magical shadows, yes. But I see your inner ones, Aimee. Every time I glance into your golden eyes, I see the shadows staining your soul. Maybe one day you will let me in enough to share what caused them with me. Although I suspect that’s not a tale you disclose to anyone.
” His sorrowful smile touches a part of my brokenness that it has absolutely no business affecting.
Why does he have to be so considerate, on top of being drop-dead gorgeous?
Can’t a horny girl get a break around here?
“Besides, my ego is not so inflated that I couldn’t comprehend you finding Blaise attractive. At least you chose my second-in-command, and not the cook. That would have been rather embarrassing for me.”
I burst out laughing—a full-on, deep belly laugh I haven’t experienced in ages. “You’re definitely not what I was raised to expect.”
His shadows skim the outline of my jaw tenderly.
“You’re quite unforeseen too, little menace.”
The yearning in his eyes threatens to melt away all of my last-standing bastions of good sense. I fake cough, taking a side step away from him. “Yes, right. It’s getting late; I believe I will turn in for the night.”
His gaze hardens abruptly, and his shadows halt my retreat. “You can’t evade this forever, Aimee.”
“There’s nothing to evade.” I lift my chin up defiantly, but it’s the wrong move, as he leans impossibly close, his stubble prickling my skin as he whispers in my ear.
“You can lie to yourself all you want, little umbra, but your body can tell no lies. Not when I can hear the hummingbird beats of your heart. Not when I can sense the thrumming speed with which your blood courses in your veins in my presence. And definitely not when I can smell your maddening arousal, gathering between those biteable thighs of yours.”
“It’s called fear,” I say in a meek tone. My voice sounds unconvincing even to my own ears.
“It’s craving, and you know it damn well. Don’t insult me!”
More shadows are coming off him now, enveloping both of us in bloody darkness and scorching heat. I pray he doesn’t lose control because I’m precariously on edge, and this is about to get ugly in the best possible way.
“You long for my body just as devastatingly as I ache for yours. There is no denying this attraction between us,” he all but moans, pushing his hips against my core. He’s painfully hard, and I feel my resolve slipping away.
“I do,” I murmur, turning my face towards him, our breaths intermingled.
With each inhale, I take a lungful of his smoky, spicy scent.
He smells of leather and blood, like danger and vice.
With each exhale, I push my scent into him, his nostrils flaring, taking me in.
His lips close the gap between us, and I snap my eyes shut, unwilling to witness how I lose this battle.
I’m ready to surrender to the most intense insanity I will probably ever get to experience in my brief life.
Because Aurora will most definitely murder me for it.
“Your Highness!” The doors burst open, and several guards came running inside the chamber, effectively shattering the tension between us. Thank goodness! I was about to get fucked, both literally and figuratively.
“What?” His tone is icy, stopping the guards in their tracks.
He doesn’t even make a move to untangle himself from me, just turns his head to the side, revealing his impatience and displeasure.
I wince on behalf of the sentries. This better be good, or someone’s going to lose a head.
And as much as I appreciate the interruption, I don’t want to have anyone’s death on my conscience.
“One of the prisoners brought in earlier escaped, my liege,” a guard says. “Blaise is already hunting him down with his best warriors. He sent us to inform you about this development.”
This gets his attention completely, and he leaves me to bark orders at the guards, heading to the doorway. “He cannot escape. We must apprehend him at all costs. Alive for interrogation, preferably. You all come with me.”
Before he steps out, he turns and gives me one last lingering look.
“This conversation is not over, my umbra. Stay inside, and lock the doors. You’re safe on this floor, but don’t wander about tonight. I’ll come back when it’s done.”
And then he’s gone, disappearing in an outburst of shadows.