Chapter 9 #2
I slope back inside the nightclub to find Penelope standing with Morrigan, not Daria.
They look like they’re having an intimate conversation.
And I know all too well about those sorts of conversations between sisters.
But the fact she’s disobeyed me hasn’t gone unnoticed.
I don’t want to get in the way, but also, I am self-aware enough to know I am nosy and stand close enough I can just about hear what they’re saying.
Besides, I am her bodyguard. It’s a legitimate need to be close enough to her so I can protect her if necessary. Especially after whoever that was lurking about just now.
Morrigan rolls her eyes at Penelope, who stiffens in response.
“Let’s stop bickering for a second,” Penelope says.
“I didn’t start it,” Morrigan snaps.
“Would you shut up a minute, I am trying to do something nice here.”
Morrigan huffs in response but dutifully closes her mouth. “Sorry.”
“Thank you,” Penelope says. “Let me start by saying, I’m sorry. Okay?”
“I beg your pardon?” Morrigan steps back, her eyebrow raised at Penelope, and my heart sinks. I can tell Penelope is being genuine, and Morrigan isn’t making it easy. But as soon as I recognise that, Morrigan must too because she softens and says, “Really?”
“Yeah, really.” Penelope hangs her head. “It’s just that I’ve always dreamt of having a princess wedding. You know? Like a real one with a poofy dress and all the attention on me.”
Morrigan cups Penelope’s hand. “You’re aware you actually will have a princess wedding one day…”
Penelope shakes her head and frowns at her sister.
“First of all, you literally are a princess, Pen. So, of course, when you find the right person, you’ll have the full-blown wedding of your dreams.”
Penelope stands a little straighter then nods slowly.
“I guess. I hadn’t really thought of it like that.
Anyway, I know we’ve had our issues, but if it was my wedding, I would want it to be perfect, and I suppose what I’m saying is that this is a peace offering, and an acknowledgement that I’m not going to do anything to fuck this up for you, okay? ”
“Okay?” Morrigan says, her tone mildly disbelieving.
“Look, I don’t want to make a big deal of this, but I learned about this tradition from a different city. It’s where the bride has something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue. And given yours and Stirling’s house, I just thought… Well, I thought that you may want these…”
She pulls a little velvet box out from her purse and hands it to her sister. Morrigan opens it and her eyes immediately well up.
“These were Nana’s,” Morrigan whispers, her voice all choked.
“Yeah, they were. They’re old, and blue, new to you and borrowed from me. I thought maybe you would wear them. Given, I’m sure, that everything else you wear will be black, I thought they’d be a cute flash of colour.”
“Oh, Pen,” she says and closes the box and pulls her sister in for a hug. “They’re beautiful. Are you sure you don’t mind me wearing them? I know she gave them to you before she passed.”
Penelope shrugs. “I’d like you to wear them, I think it fits the pair of you. Just keep them safe for me and give them back when you’re done.”
Morrigan nods, and I take that as my cue to go and escort Penelope out.
I sidle up to the pair of them. “Evening, Dahlia,” Morrigan says.
“Good evening, I think it’s time for the princess here to leave for the evening.”
“Hell, no,” Penelope says. “I was just getting started.” She snatches her glass from the table where all Morrigan’s friends sit and glugs the rest of it.
Great, so now I have to deal with an increasingly drunk and bratty princess.
Morrigan’s mouth presses into a thin line as if she’s trying to squash a laugh. “Now you see what I have to put up with?” She laughs.
“Exhausting.” But I sling my arm around Penelope and drag her back into the crowd where no one is listening.
“Who was it?” she says as she takes my hand and ducks under it, swinging herself around me in some kind of odd pirouette.
When I’m stone-cold sober, I don’t dance, and unfortunately, I’m still unnerved by whoever that figure was earlier.
“I should speak to Daria.”
“Did you actually catch anyone?”
“No.”
“And they’re gone?”
I nod.
“Then why don’t you chill out for a minute and dance with me.” She shoves her arse into my crotch and gyrates on my pussy.
Fucking hell. My self-control up and dies. My fingers grip her hips as she grinds harder and harder against me. I want to slip my hand under her dress, push my fingers inside her pussy and fuck her on the dance floor.
Actually, that’s not a bad idea. I spin her to face me. I pull her in tight and waltz us around the dance floor.
“The waltz? Showing your age, aren’t you?”
“I’ll have you know this dance is the dance of noble vampires, and you should be thankful I know how to lead.”
“I’ll let you lead in the bedroom too, if you like…”
My nostrils flare. She grins at me, knowing exactly what she just said. “You’re drunk.”
I hold her hard enough to bruise and pull her around the floor. “Need I remind you, you don’t let me anything. Do I need to teach you a lesson?”
Her eyes glimmer with just the faintest hint of rebellion.
I pull us to the heart of the room where the dance floor is thick with bodies.
We’re a mass of hot flesh and sticky booze.
The lights are low, and everyone is drunk enough we won’t get caught for what I’m about to do.
The music shifts, dropping to a more rhythmic beat.
Around us people couple up, spinning in slow circles.
Kisses are swapped, hands caress waists, tongues push inside mouths.
I lower my voice. “How disappointed would the queen be if I finger fucked her daughter into a quivering mess at her sister’s hen do?”
Penelope’s lips quiver. She sucks in her bottom lip, those fucking deliciously long blonde eyelashes fluttering at me.
“I suspect the queen would be devastated if she caught me cavorting with a dirty vampire.”
“Dirty? Oh, Princess, you have no idea how filthy I can be.”
I wrap her arms around me and slip one hand between her legs.
When I reach the apex of her thighs, I gasp. I expected to find the scrap of underwear, but my fingers brush freshly shaved skin.
I shake my head. “When did you remove those? Do you have no decorum?”
“Maybe I was out looking for someone to fuck. Someone who could actually give me what I wanted.”
My jaw ticks, I grip her tighter against me and without warning, push a finger inside her pussy. To my surprise, there’s no resistance. Apparently, backchat and disobedience are foreplay for her because her pussy is more than wet and accommodating enough for me to slide a second finger inside her.
She gasps, but it dissolves into a moan as I pull my fingers in and out. In and out. In and out.
“Don’t make a sound, Penelope. You wouldn’t want to alert Mummy to the fact there was something wrong, would you?”
Her eyes are hooded, drugged with the pleasure of me fucking her.
I lean in and whisper as I curl my fingers to find that spot on her inner wall, my palm grinding against her clit.
“You wouldn’t want to let Mummy find out what a slut her little princess is, being fucked in the middle of a nightclub, would you? ”
“Oh gods,” she moans and rocks her hips against my fingers. Her legs quiver and she wobbles, but I hold her tight against my body. I’m not going to let her go until she comes on my fingers.
“Harder,” she breathes.
I go slower, dragging out the pleasure, letting my palm apply just the right amount of pressure to make her squeak.
I grin.
There is nothing more satisfying than controlling someone’s pleasure.
“Please, Dahlia. Fuck. Please…”
Just when I was having fun, too. I can never resist a woman begging me. I sigh and shunt my fingers inside her, hard this time.
She moans, her head falling back. “Oh gods,” she says as her walls tighten against my fingers.
I pull out and shove my way back in hard and fast. Over and over.
Her nipples rub against my chest, the buds tightening against the sheer fabric of her dress.
What I would give to take one in my mouth and suck it until she screamed my name.
Her pussy clenches around my fingers so tight I can barely thrust them in and out to tip her over. “Relax, Princess,” I say, trying not to weave compulsion into my voice.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up again. I lose my focus, my eyes instantly scanning the room instead of fucking Penelope.
“Dahlia,” she whines, “What the fuck, I’m so—”
“Quiet,” I snap and pull my fingers out. I scan and check the room. There’ are too many dark spots, too many corners covered and too many places someone could hide and only one fucking exit.
I’m done.
We’ve had enough fun in here. If Penelope were actually attacked and I didn’t stop it, I can’t imagine what would happen to Octavia’s peace talks.
“We need to go,” I say and use the hand I didn’t fuck her with to drag her to the side of the room and towards the door.
Queen Calandra appears, her face a mesh of confusion. “Where are you going? The night is young.”
“I am not comfortable keeping her here,” I say.
“Do you have any evidence of an intruder?”
“I do not. I have my gut and my vampire instincts, and they’re telling me it’s time to leave.”
She presses her lips together. “Most unconventional. But I suppose you are her bodyguard, and you are doing your duty to protect her. So be it.”
She holds out her hand for me to shake. My eyes widen. But she’s already moving closer to take my hand…
The hand that just fucked her daughter.
Mother of Blood.
As if in slow motion, Calandra slides her palm against my still sticky fingers and shakes my hand. I dare a glance at Penelope, who is now as crimson as Octavia’s eyes with her lips pressed so thin I think they’ve vanished.
“Good evening,” Calandra says and pulls her palm away, her brow crinkling ever so slightly as she looks at her hand.
Penelope drags me to the doorway. “I will never live that down,” she says.
“Lucky for you, she didn’t seem to notice.” I bring my hand up and lick the remains of her pussy off my fingers. Which, might I add, tastes fucking divine. I can’t wait to shove my face between those long legs of hers and feast all night.
Penelope turns a lovely shade of green as I laugh to myself, and we head for the exit.