Chapter 15 #3
“Mine,” James growls fiercely, drawing me in closer. His grip isn’t comforting– it’s a claim, a warning. “Her blood is mine.”
The room seems to go still around us, whispers dying midair. Guess that settles the question of whether anyone was eavesdropping. James seems completely unfazed by the spectacle he’s making– his claim is evident in his grip on my body, in the way he curls his around mine.
Lucien dips his chin in a respectful nod. “Of course, sire,” he replies quietly, tone apologetic. “I didn’t…”
James lifts a hand and Lucien suddenly snaps his mouth closed, the rest of his words left unsaid.
“You’re dismissed,” James mutters.
Lucien blanches, then immediately turns and walks away, disappearing into the crowd. The whispers resume, the party coming back to life around us now that the confrontation has ended.
I look up at James, arching a brow. “Sire?” I whisper, voice tinged with amusement. “You’re that kind of king?”
“My title has nothing to do with it,” he grumbles, fingers loosening their hold on my hip. “I’m Lucien’s sire. I made him vampire.”
My mouth drops open in surprise at the revelation.
James frowns, shaking his head. “So much to learn, little mortal,” he mutters, his hand pressing to my back to guide me across the room.
He brings me over to the buffet table, which doesn’t have much to offer considering the size of this event. Then again, I suppose most of the attendees don’t require food for sustenance.
“Eat,” James directs.
I’m tempted to refuse, irritated at how he thinks he can order me around. I haven’t had dinner yet, though, and hunger always trumps pride. Loading up a small plate, I nibble on appetizers while James hovers close, sharp eyes sliding over the ballroom.
The next hour is a blur as he steers me through the crowd and exchanges casual conversation with a few acquaintances, never leaving my side.
Other donors watch me with thinly veiled envy or suspicion, vampires leer with predatory curiosity.
This isn’t like the donor gala, where I had the luxury of anonymity.
As James’ date, I’m on display, and I feel the scrutiny wherever I go.
The noise fades behind us like smoke when he finally leads me out of the ballroom, leaving the glittering crowd, the whispers, and the heavy weight of everyone’s attention in our rear view.
The cool night air washes over us the moment we step outside, and for the first time since the evening started, I feel like I can finally breathe.
James opens the car door for me, his hand brushing mine in a deliberate, controlled movement that makes my pulse skip.
I slide inside, heels clicking lightly on the floor, and he follows, sliding in beside me.
The driver’s partition is closed, sealing us off in the cavernous back seat of the limousine.
James’ thigh presses against mine just enough to remind me that this is his territory, his control, his world– and I’m along for the ride.
I sit stiffly with my hands folded in my lap, spine straight and knees pressed together. Meanwhile, James is relaxed, impossibly composed, one arm resting lightly along the seat behind me.
“Did you have fun?” he asks as the car begins to move.
“I…” I glance down at my lap, twisting my fingers together. “No,” I reply honestly, looking back up at him.
He arches a curious brow. “No?”
I shake my head, stifling a nervous giggle. Too much champagne. “I guess swanky parties like that aren’t really my thing,” I admit. “A bunch of people making polite small talk, silently judging everyone they meet. It’s all just so… fake.”
The corner of his mouth lifts in amusement, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “I agree completely,” he murmurs. “Unfortunately, I have to attend given my position, but I prefer to socialize in more intimate settings.”
I swallow thickly, pulse taking off like a rocket.
By intimate, does he mean…?
“Did you get enough to eat, or should I have the chefs to prepare you something for our return?” he asks, thumb brushing along the curve of my bare shoulder.
“I’m fine,” I breathe, my temperature spiking. It’s ridiculous how the faintest touch from this man elicits such a visceral reaction. I know that, and still, I can’t help but chase each one.
“You can… if you want,” I mumble, lifting my wrist and extending it toward him in offering. “You can drink.”
James’ eyes darken; hunger, amusement, and restraint wrapped in one unreadable expression. He leans in closer, and the press of his firm body against mine is enough to make my knees go weak. “Not my preferred vein, darling.”
The tension coiled in the small space between us thickens. I shift my weight, thighs brushing leather and the firm muscle of his leg.
“Then show me,” I taunt, voice cracking with nerves.
In a blur of motion, he twists my body sideways on the seat, my back pressed to the door and my heart in my throat. He wastes no time in pushing my dress up my thighs, fangs extending with a distinctive pop.
“Wha…” I stammer, even though I know damn well what’s coming.
James positions himself between my thighs, hooking one of my legs over his shoulder for better access.
I’m completely exposed to him, the delicate fabric of my panties the only thing keeping me from total indecency.
The first scrape of his teeth against my inner thigh sends a shockwave of sensation rioting through me.
I suck in a sharp gasp, arching against him, every nerve on fire and every inch of skin alive with awareness.
The confined space of the car magnifies everything– the weight of his body, the press of leather beneath me, the vibration of the engine beneath our feet.
He groans low in his throat as he bites down, fangs sinking into my sensitive flesh, and an electric thrill shoots straight to my core.
My muscles tense and quiver at the pain, then scream with sharp, exquisite pleasure.
My body reacts instinctively to the venom, hips tilting, back arching, as though it knows exactly how to give him what he wants without thought.
His hands press firmly against my hips, anchoring me to the seat as he drinks.
The bite isn’t just about feeding, I’ve realized– it’s about control, dominance, claim.
My breaths saw from my lungs in ragged bursts, chest rising and falling uncontrollably.
Every brush of his lips and tug of his teeth drives me higher, and when his fangs finally retract, his mouth remains.
“Do you need relief, darling?” he murmurs against my skin.
“Y-yes,” I pant, too strung out to know any shame.
A smug grin curves his lips moments before he reaches for my panties, the fabric shredding like tissue paper in his grip. Before I can even blink, his face is buried between my legs, a strangled cry ripping from my throat.
“Oh fuck!” I scream, head falling back against the car window.
His tongue is talented– inhumanly so. When he licks into me, it starts vibrating like his damn thumb did and I almost come right then and there.
His fingers sink into my hips, holding me to the seat as he licks and sucks until my thighs are shaking.
He doesn’t rush– every movement is deliberate, precise, expert.
He teases, flicks, and even nips my clit with his teeth, driving me right to the edge over and over.
My hands clutch at his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto as pleasure rolls through me in slow, grinding waves. He’s relentless, each lick and suck designed to ruin me.
“James…” I moan his name breathlessly, reduced to a writhing, trembling mess on the back seat.
He responds by suctioning his lips over my clit and vibrating his tongue against it while he sucks, the sensation so intense that I’m hurtling toward release within seconds. My body begins to quake, riding the edge he controls so effortlessly.
James groans low in his throat as he sucks harder, and a shudder rips through me as I freefall into climax.
The world tilts, colors blur, sounds muffle.
I come so hard I feel it everywhere– from the tips of my toes to the top of my head, so far gone that I know nothing but the white-hot pleasure consuming me.
When I finally come back down to earth, he lifts his head to gaze up at me. His mouth is slick, expression predatory and smug, like he’s proud of what he reduced me to. My lungs drag in shaky breaths, body still humming with residual heat, every muscle wrung out and utterly sated.
His eyes lock on mine, holding me captive in their intensity and pinning me more firmly than his hands ever could. For a moment, I can’t tell if I want to shrink away or sink into him further.
I barely notice when his hands leave me– not until I feel the deliberate, careful way he smooths my dress back down over my thighs.
The simple act feels like both a claim and a kindness as he returns me to some semblance of decency.
The low hum of the engine vibrates through the leather seat beneath me, amplifying every lingering pulse, every residual tremor in my body.
James slides an arm behind my back and guides me upright with unnerving gentleness, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “We’re home,” he murmurs, lips tilting into a sinful smirk. “Thank you for the meal, mea dulcis. It was divine.”