Chapter 8 Rhianelle #2
Svenn shuts the door. He remains near it, watching me through the mask. I stand in the center of the room with my arms wrapped around myself. The sheer costume feeling thinner than it did on stage.
This mask is supposed to hide me completely. Every trace of who I am should be undetectable. Yet the way he keeps staring makes my heart pound. Does he know?
Impossible.
The fae enchantment is too strong.
I can hear laughter and music outside. Life continuing while my world cracks apart.
My husband is cheating on me.
Svenn circles the perimeter slowly, checking corners and shadows the way he always does in unfamiliar rooms. Some broken part of me wants to understand.
Maybe this is about me. Perhaps there is something I lack and some need I'm not fulfilling.
I want to know if the man who promised to stay forever has been lying the whole time.
So I wait for him to speak first.
"You can remove the mask now,” he says quietly, his back to me.
"House rules," I say. "It stays on."
It’s a lie. But I need this thin barrier.
Svenn turns around. His eyes narrow slightly as he studies me. My pulse quickens at that look.
The silence stretches. He runs a hand through his hair, then sits on the chaise. I remain at the table, frozen.
“I’m not good at—never mind." He stops.
We just look at each other.
"Come here," he says quietly. He pats the space beside him on the chaise, then changes his mind.
"No. Here." He indicates his lap.
I cross the room slowly. Each step feels like a betrayal of myself. I lower myself onto his lap, hating him for this. I hate myself too for wanting to be close to him despite everything.
"Are you afraid?" he asks.
I shake my head.
"You should be." He moves closer, each step deliberate. "Do you know what I am?"
My stupid husband who is cheating on me.
But I can't say that. “A vampire.”
"Most people run when they learn." His thumb traces my lower lip through the mask's edge. "You're still here."
I can't breathe.
His hand comes up to cup my face, thumb tracing my cheekbone where the mask ends. "You really can't remove this?"
I shake my head quickly.
"You're trembling." His mouth moves to my ear, his breath cold against my skin. “Are you nervous?”
“I’m not,” I say.
“Liar.” Then his lips are on my neck, *open mouth kisses and the world tilts.
He licks the spot where my pulse flutters wildly. I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning his name. His hands frame my waist, pulling me against him. I feel the evidence of his want and my body responds instantly, betraying me.
This is torture.
Having him so close, feeling his desire. He pulls back to study me, and something shifts in his expression. The hunger is still there but beneath it is something softer. “Why are you sad?”
Of course I'm sad. My husband is here in a brothel about to make love to a stranger.
"Does someone have a claim on you?" he asks carefully. "A lover who'd object to this?"
I almost laugh at the irony. Yes, I have a lover.
"No," I whisper. "I have no one."
Svenn goes still.
Then his hands are in my hair, tilting my head back. He’s studying my face like he's trying to see through the mask itself. “May I kiss you?"
The question breaks my heart. My husband, asking permission to kiss his own wife. Emotion builds behind my eyes.
But I nod, and his mouth claims mine with desperate hunger.
The kiss devastates me.
It's nothing like our kisses at home. Those are tender, knowing, built on trust and love. This is wild, seeking, the kiss of a man drowning who's just found air. I need to stop him before this goes too far.
"This isn't part of the offer," I manage.
He pauses. "What was the offer?"
"A conversation and a drink." I'm trying to keep my voice serious despite the want coursing through me.
"I see." He pulls back slightly. "My apologies. But we are having a conversation."
No, we’re not. I glare at him.
His eyes darken."But I suppose we haven't gotten around to the drink part yet."
He guides me backward until my legs hit the table. "Sit."
I do as he bids, the cool wood beneath me a stark contrast to the heat of my skin.
"What are you doing?" The question comes out breathless.
"Getting my drink," he murmurs against my skin.
What?
His mouth moves lower, trailing kisses down my stomach, and I grip the silk tablecloth beneath me. He grabs my thigh and drapes it over his shoulder.
A whimper leaves me when he kisses my inner thigh slowly and pulls the soft material down my shaking legs.
"Wait—" I don't finish because he feasts on me.
The first touch of his tongue steals my breath. Another whimper slips free. I dig my fingers into his hair, holding on as pleasure rolls through me. He devours me like a man starved. Every stroke, every circle sends shockwaves through my body.
My back arches off the table and my thighs tremble on either side of his head. The orgasm builds fast and hits harder. I seize and buckle on the table, my body convulsing.
The devil gives it all when he goes down on me.
But he doesn't stop. His mouth continues its work, drawing out the pleasure until I'm shaking. He's doing that thing where he plays and tugs at my sensitive skin with his teeth, pushing me higher again.
I can't even form full sentences anymore. Just broken gasps and whimpers.
A loud moan escapes me. I slap a hand over my mouth. Garrett and Aelfric might be in the same building. I’d die of shame if my knights walked in on us.
He lifts his head long enough to smirk. "Let them all hear you.”
Pleasure builds like a storm in my spine, but beneath it runs a river of sadness. He's here. I'm here. We're together but playing at being strangers.
I gasp when he pushes a finger into me. "You want more, don't you?"
The rumble of his voice against my most intimate part nearly pushes me over the edge. Of course I want more. I want it all. The truth of it surprises me. Even thinking he's betraying me, even as I'm drowning in this horrible charade, I want him. "Please."
He pushes a second finger into me and I can't breathe.
No, no, no, please gods. I can't last when he uses his fingers and tongue together. I grip his hair, fingertips digging into his skull.
He thrusts his fingers in a steady rhythm while his mouth works me relentlessly. The combination is devastating.
He brings me to the edge and over. It all feels too much and not enough at the same time. I see stars as the orgasm barrels into me, shooting up my spine. My legs twitch and my mind goes blank.
His fingers plunge into me again and my hips nearly levitate off the surface. Stars pulse behind my eyelids as pleasure hits me in hot pulsing waves. I try to pull away but his hand presses down on my hip, holding me in place. Not allowing me to escape.
"Too much," I'm sobbing and shaking and thoroughly undone. "I can't—"
He shows me the moisture coating his fingers, then licks them clean. "You taste like everything I've ever fucking wanted."
Before I can recover, he plunges his fingers back into me. He doesn't stop.
The sensation crashes through me even harder than the first. My vision whites out. My entire body seizes.
Svenn's eyes soften at the corners as he watches me fall apart.
As I scream out my release, his lips cover mine, sealing my moans in our kiss.
I can taste traces of myself all over his tongue.
My body settles as the aftershocks fade. He soothes my trembling legs with gentle strokes, his touch tender now where it was demanding moments before.
"More," I whisper against his mouth, surprising myself.
"Patience, sweetheart. I want you to come while you're riding me."
The endearment makes my eyes sting behind the mask. He calls me that at home, in our bed.
This evil, evil vampire. I’m holding back the urge to scream, and cry and hit him all at the same time.
My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath, and Svenn just watches me like some dark god. The smirk curling at the corner of his mouth tells me he knows exactly what he's done to me.
Something hot and vicious coils in my chest. He thinks he can unravel me and walk away unscathed.
“This isn’t over,” I whisper, still a little breathless from what he did to me.
I press on his shoulder until he sinks back against the chaise. He goes willingly, staring at me with those dark eyes. “My move now. So watch closely.”
He grunts in response as I crawl into his lap. My hand explores the hard planes of his chest trailing it lower. I flatten my palm and trace the defined ridge of his abs.
I let him ensnare my lips in another vicious kiss that steals my breath away. Being kiss by Svenn is a beautiful torment. It feels like being torn open and ripped apart but your body craves the sensation.
But I won't let him lead this. Not this time.
I bite down on his lower lip, hard enough to make him growl and pull back. His eyes flash with surprise, then something darker, hungrier.
Good. Let him feel what it's like to be on the edge of losing control.
I straddle his hips properly and reach for the laces of his breeches. My fingers work them loose, holding his gaze the whole time. I wrap my hand around him, feeling the weight and heat of him in my palm.
“Bold little thing, aren't you?" he rasps.
The real me wouldn't have dreamed of doing this. But I'm Fawn now.
I can do this.
I give him a slow, deliberate stroke, watching his jaw clench.
His hips jerk beneath me and a low sound rumbles from his chest. His breathing grows heavier, rougher.
I can see his arms straining, muscles coiled tight as his lust wars with his self-restraint.
But he's letting me take control. For now.
Heat pulses against my palm as I guide him between my thighs. I hover there, poised against him, letting him feel how close he is to what he wants.
He smirks at my confidence.
My hand trembles as I hold him there, heart hammering painfully in my chest. The blunt heat of him presses insistently against me. One more inch and I would take him inside.