Chapter 24 Arabella ‘Then’ #3
“Gideon, you beautiful, generous, magnificent specimen of manhood,” he finishes for me. “May I…?”
“Make me come now, you bastard, or I will force you to eat your own—”
My threats become a scream as he thrusts a second finger inside me and sucks my clit into his mouth. My body explodes with sensation, sparks flying through my limbs as I ride out my pleasure on his face.
“Such lovely manners. You’re so beautiful when you come, ma petite déesse,” he growls against my pussy.
“Then let me do it again on your cock,” I command, gripping the back of his golden hair.
“Mmmmm, but what if I want to taste you again? What if I want to feast between your legs until the sun rises?”
“Gideon Rougon, give me your cock now.”
The snap in my voice makes him sit up, his darkened eyes hooding with lust. The air crackles between us, heated by the clash of our wills and scented with the headiness of blood and sex.
My jewels feel heavy around my neck, cutting off my air.
Or maybe that’s the way he makes me feel when he looks at me like that – breathless and choking on things I dare not say.
“Since you ask so nicely, ma petite déesse.”
I’m not opposed to that name.
Gideon stands up and leans over me, kneeling on the bed, fitting his knees between mine. His forearms cage my face as he crushes my lips with his. I taste my pleasure on his tongue, sharp and sweet. My fangs itch to slide down and pierce him, to taste him as he’s tasted me, but I refrain. For now.
Between our frantic kisses, I strip off the rest of his clothes, letting my fingers roam over the hard planes of his body and down to his cock.
He’s as big as I guessed, his shaft thick with a pleasing halo of veins.
Gideon shudders as I rake the tips of my nails down his length, touching the bead of precum gathered at the swollen head.
Normally, a man has to pay extra to have my mouth anywhere near his cock. These days, I make Catherina get on her knees for them. That woman has a mouth like a steam injector.
But for Gideon… I cannot wait to taste him.
It takes no effort at all to throw him beneath me. He cries out in surprise, but I hold him down as I slide down his body. I don’t give him time to protest as I lick his shaft, tracing the thick veins around his head before laying a trail of feathery kisses that leave him panting.
He sucks in sharply as I take him into my mouth.
He tastes exquisite – warm and fresh and so very human.
His blood pulses just beneath the surface as I slide my lips down him, taking him deep into my throat.
My fangs slide down and the hunger gnaws at me.
It’s been so long since I tasted fresh human.
And if I pierced him here, now, he’d probably faint from the ecstasy of it…
But as much as I want Gideon at my mercy, I don’t wish him unconscious. I have plans for this cock.
So I stamp down the hunger, curl my lips over my fangs, and stroke him slowly until he wriggles and moans and grabs my shoulders, his fingers digging into the collar.
“Arabella,” he breathes, his fingers sliding through my hair and down to my neck. “If you keep that up, you won’t get your cock. I want to be inside you. Please…”
I laugh, my lips vibrating around his shaft before I pull back, running my fingers down my breasts and stomach.
“Since you asked so nicely…” I shuffle up his body, lining up my entrance with his shaft. As much as I’m shaking with the need to sink down onto him, I like teasing him more, so I rub myself along his tip, enjoying the curses falling from his lips as he tries to hold himself back.
“Wait…” A line appears between his eyes as he grips my hips, holding me. “I want you bare for me, you have no idea how much, but aren’t there rules…”
I assume he’s talking about the sheaths us grandes horizontales are expected to wear by the brigade des m?urs to help prevent diseases and unwanted pregnancies. But I don’t need to use them, as he can’t give me any vile human disease nor make me pregnant, not even with a Dhampir.
“I am bare for you, Gideon. Trust me, it’s safe.”
The cruel grin tugs at his mouth. His fingers slowly lift my hair, grazing the clasp of my collar. His eyes drop to the bright jewels.
I stiffen.
“I want you completely bare.”
I swallow. My fingers tremble. I’ve never taken it off. Never. Not since the night I lifted it from my sire’s cold, bloody fingers. The magic has kept me safe and helped me build a life for myself. If that magic goes away…
“Why?” I ask, running my fingers over the scarab.
He leans forward, his breath on my lips as he splays his hands on my thighs, his fingers rubbing against my sensitive skin. “I told you. I want all of you.”
Yes.
I trust you.
Yes.
Keeping my eyes locked on his, I slowly unhook the collar. My fingers tremble. Cleopatra’s jewels fall into my hands, heavy and cool to the touch. I imagine I can feel them humming against my fingers. I lean over and drape them over a velvet jewellery box on my vanity.
I swallow. Without the heavy collar of jewels, I’m naked in a way I haven’t been in a long time. I’m used to men seeing me without my clothes on. I’m used to faking intimacy to get what I want.
I’m not used to being so exposed.
“You’re even more beautiful without those heavy stones,” Gideon murmurs before running his tongue down my neck as his hand slips between my legs.
A deep, unsteady breath fills my lungs and I gouge deep welts down his chest with my nails as he uses his fingers to rub my already punished clit.
But if he can torture me, I can just as easily torture him. I hover above his waiting cock, sinking down just enough to tease his tip with my entrance.
He groans, gripping my hip with his free hand while he rubs harder. “Are you trying to torture me?”
“Yes,” I say with a smile, sinking way down so he fills me completely. “It’s all part of the La Petite Mort full service. Afterwards, I’ll drink your blood.”
“I’d like that.”
He shouldn’t say that to me, not when he smells so delicious and the veins in his neck pulse with excitement. But not now, not this first time. I want him to be fully in charge of his faculties when I break him apart.
He feels amazing inside me, hot and hard and so big that I ride on the edge of pain.
Gideon lets out a ragged breath but I don’t move, just sit there, letting my body get used to the feel of him.
It takes all the strength I have to hold back. I only break when he reaches up, wrapping his hand around my bare neck, and crushes his lips to mine.
I rock my hips to meet his over and over again.
He drives up into me, desperate and wild, whispering sweet words of longing as he punishes me with his cock.
He’s a mess of contradictions, this human who loves life yet tethers himself to a king of the undead, this man who hates opera and loves art, who craves wealth and yet wants me even without my jewels.
We’re more alike than I care to admit.
Our breathing and our bodies were always meant to meet this way. We match each other, every piece of him designed by the bountiful gods to fit perfectly against me. And when he thrusts into me… I see stars behind my eyes.
His thumb rubs my clit in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. His cobalt eyes never leave mine, always calling me back from my pleasure to focus on him, on us, on the dance of our bodies.
My orgasm builds slowly. I savour it, moving against Gideon’s body, drinking in the intensity of his gaze as blood and red cherry swirl inside my skull.
He must sense my body clenching because he grips my hips in his hand and whispers, “That’s it. Fall apart for me, Arabella. We’ll come together.”
At his words, my whole body shivers then explodes as I cry out his name, riding my orgasm on his cock, clawing at the skin of his shoulders.
“Oh, Arabella.” He cries my name like a prayer as he digs his fingers into my hips and spills inside of me.
He pulls me against him as the throes of pleasure leave his body. I rest my head against his shoulder, breathing in his scent as we lie together, a tangle of limbs beneath the watchful eyes of the goddesses on my bed, our breathing as one.
“May I stay with you tonight?” he whispers before leaving a trail of kisses down my ear and bare neck. “May I keep you safe and warm?”
“That is acceptable,” I murmur.
Safe and warm.
The last time I was safe and warm was in my mother’s arms, before she was cruelly taken from me, before I followed her into a life of sin, before my sire stole the warmth from my veins and I was forced to break the most sacred vampire law.
I never thought I’d be safe or warm again.
But now, for the first time in decades, I’m warm, inside and out.
My body senses the sun approaching the horizon, even though I cannot see it.
Soon, I will fall into the dreamless sleep of the Upyr, the sleep of death.
I’m not afraid of Gideon seeing me in my most vulnerable state.
I almost relish this knife edge I walk with him.
I wonder if I could become addicted to the intoxication of trust, as I’ve seen so many others fall under the spell of opium.
Weariness clasps my limbs. I settle into his body, his cock still wet and warm inside me. He kisses my ears, his fingers trailing over my naked throat, whispering words I barely hear, as I slip into sleep…