Chapter 14
Rêver
CLAIRE
Ilay on my back, staring at a sky peppered with a million shimmering stars.
“It’s so beautiful,” I whispered.
The deep voice of a vampire answered. “Yes, it is.”
I could see him watching me from the corner of my eye, and my cheeks burned with heat. Pointing to a constellation, I told Bastien all about the brave witch the sky, a story I’d been fond of since I was a girl.
When I was done, he captured my hand and drew it against his chest, holding it there.
The gesture drew my gaze away from the sky to tangle with his.
Ice-blue eyes stared back at me, inviting despite their usual coldness, drawing me in like all the heavenly bodies above us.
. Captivating and alluring—just like the curve of his lips.
“You are an exquisite creature,” he said, thumb stroking the back of my hand in a way that made me feel like I was sinking into the ground.
Slowly, he pressed a kiss to the top of my hand before rolling onto his side and drawing me to him, molding our bodies together.
His hand fit against the small of my back.
I felt so feminine in his arms and welcomed the press of his body.
He brought his lips an inch closer. My back arched, and my chin tilted up, closing the distance between us until we were barely an inch apart.
Anticipation of what would happen next had me trembling.
I didn’t just want him to kiss me. I needed it. Needed him. Needed to be closer.
There was a question in his eyes, and I answered by snaking my hand around his neck, stroking his skin with my fingers.
The air was alive with the passion crackling between us.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Bastien lowered his lips to mine, and the chaste touch of our mouths shattered everything inside me, like the sky exploding with stars.
He parted my lips, urging them open, and I invited him into my mouth, tasting him as he slowly mated our tongues together. Deepening the connection between us until I was so far into him I thought I might get lost.
I welcomed the feeling. I wanted to get lost with him.
His hand traveled up my waist to cup my breast, teasing my nipple between his fingers until I moaned inside his mouth.
He swallowed the sound, devouring it like it was the only thing he needed to live when familiar voice sliced through the balmy night air.
Mama. She was angry. I could tell by the way she was calling my name.
Breaking off our kiss, I dug my nails into Bastien’s chest and pushed him away. I shouldn’t be kissing this man that I hated. And I really shouldn’t be liking it so much. This was wrong. But nothing about kissing Bastien felt wrong.
As I looked into his eyes, a strange pressure built in my chest, like the air had gone thin.
The stars overhead blurred, then reformed into a thousand gleaming points that all seemed to aim at me.
Pain unlike any I’d ever experienced lanced through my throat.
And when I looked down, the lace choker was glowing red-hot—burning through my skin.
Smoke curled from the wound, and when I opened my mouth to scream, no sound came out.
Bastien reached for me, but his hands turned to smoke before they could touch me.
The ground cracked beneath me and I was falling—falling into a pit of shadow that swallowed the sky, the stars, and him.
Everything. I sat up straight, trying to catch my breath.
My chest tight, and my cheeks flush. My hands wrapping around my throat.
The vampire appeared at my bedside in an instant. “It’s alright, Miss Donadieu,” he said. “You are safe. You were having a bad dream. That’s all.”
His silky voice wrapped around my shoulders, calming and reassuring, and I tried to settle my nerves. The kiss, Mama, the starry sky, the smoke—it was just a dream. No, not a dream. A nightmare.
Bastien eased himself onto the edge of the mattress and sat beside me. “Do you often have such vivid dreams?”
I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “No, I don’t. I sleep relatively light…”
Suddenly, I realized what caused this dream. The sleeping draught. Nightmares were a side effect. The dream had nothing to do with my lust for the vampire, but from the potion. This was all chemical. But if that was the case, why couldn’t I remember anything after getting into the bath?
“How long was I asleep?” I asked.
He canted his head to the side, regarding me with a strange look in his icy eyes. “What do you remember about the bathhouse?”
I blinked, shifting my gaze to the fire. Trying to recall what exactly transpired, but every time I reached for a memory, it vanished.
“It’s fuzzy,” I admitted. “I remember you yelling at me, and I remember getting in the tub, but past that… nothing.” He grunted thoughtfully but said nothing else. “Did I fall asleep when we got back to the room?” I asked, trying to fill in the blanks.
The vampire shrugged. “More or less.”
I studied his face, trying to puzzle out his meaning, and realized how gaunt and drawn his features were. His cheeks were hollow. His eyes rimmed red and bloodshot. His lips paler than they’d been at dinner. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look so well, Your Grace.”
His face remained impassive as he said, “Occupational hazard of being in charge.”
No, that wasn’t it. He wasn’t overworked. He was hungry. Starving. A memory materialized. Last night, I’d asked him to eat, but he hadn’t. Instead, I’d fallen asleep. “Last night,” I said, slowly, as if trying to recall a dream. “You were supposed to feed from me.”
His look somehow darkened, smoldering hotter than the fire. “You’re tired. It’s the middle of the night.” His attention dropped to my neck. “I am capable of waiting.”
Even now, when he was nearly ill with hunger, he offered me a way out. It was thoughtful for a bloodthirsty vampire. I wanted to help him if only to lull him into a false sense of security around me. “I can handle it,” I said stubbornly.
“As the lady wishes,” he replied cooly. I watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed. “Lay back,” he instructed. “I have an idea.”
“What kind of idea?”
“One that might make feedings easier on you. I don’t want you to swoon again.”
Slowly, I reclined back against my pillow with my brows pushed together, wondering what he had planned.
As soon as I was comfortable, he positioned himself at the foot of the bed, sitting on his knees, staring at me with longing in his eyes.
The force of his attention was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
Except in my dream, when he’d devoured my mouth.
It was such a real feeling that I could almost taste him. I shook my head to clear the thought.
“Do you trust me?” Bastien asked, shifting forward.
That was a complicated question. But the answer that rose to my lips felt simple. “Yes.”
“Then I’ll feed from your femoral artery this time. It should be easier on you.”
For a second, I blinked at him. My femoral artery? “You’re going to bite me… there?” My eyes shifted to my thigh as I said it. His gaze followed.
“Yes.”
His hands slid under my knees and dragged me closer. I yelped, startled. “Wh-what are you doing?”
“Elevating your legs so you don’t pass out.” His voice was so calm, so matter-of-fact, as if this was the most ordinary thing in the world.
“Oh.” My heart thudded so hard I was sure he could feel it. The position was terribly intimate, leaving me open to him in a way that made heat flood my cheeks.
He leaned in, close enough that I felt the brush of his breath on my inner thigh, and I swallowed hard. “Is this alright?” he asked, his pale eyes flicking up to mine, waiting.
A thrill of excitement tore through my body, but I told myself this was just business.
He was hungry, and it was like deciding whether to use a spoon or a fork.
It made no difference to him, neck or thigh, so why should it matter to me?
I nodded, understanding his plan, and Bastien eased both my legs over his shoulders.
As he did, the icy blue color of his eyes disintegrated into blackness, and razor-sharp fangs peeked from between his lips, the monster inside him awakening.
A part of me was terrified of his transformation.
The part that hated him for who he was and what he was about to do to me. But another part of me was not.
Bastien’s lips moved to my thigh, dragging across my skin in a way that sent me reeling.
My back arching. Fingers twisting into the sheets.
His tongue followed, wetting my skin with one long stroke.
I squirmed, and my thighs clamped around his neck before I could stop myself.
He gave me a wicked grin, showing off his sharp teeth, and then twined his fingers with mine as he gripped the bedsheets.
“Breathe, Miss Donadieu,” Bastien said in a silky voice. “I haven’t even done anything yet.”
Lies. He knew exactly what he was doing to me.
“Spread your legs a little wider for me, chérie. I promise I’ll be gentle.”
The command went through me like lightning, and my body obeyed before my brain could catch up.
My knees parted another few inches, baring more of me to him, and heat flooded my face.
I tipped my head back against the pillow, dragging in a deep breath, then slowly exhaling—anything to keep my head clear while he was this close.
“Good. Very good. You’re doing so well,” he whispered. “Seeing you like this makes me so hungry.”
There was some monstrous part of me that wanted this. It chased away the part of me that was afraid, until I was hungry too. Hungry for him. I hated myself for even thinking such a disgusting thing. Hated my body for reacting this way.
“You don’t have to watch. In fact, it might be better if you closed your eyes.”
Maybe. But I found I couldn’t look away. Seeing his face between my legs like this only intensified my need for him. For him to touch me, to kiss me. All he’d need to do was turn his head a few inches and…My breath was short and tight, my chest rising and falling as I imagined just that.
“Tell me you want this,” Bastien murmured, his breath teasing my inner thigh, each word a stroke of temptation. “Tell me you need to give yourself to me as badly as I need you.”
“I thought you didn’t need me, Your Grace.”
He growled low in his throat, a sound that vibrated through my entire body as he pressed his lips to the tender flesh of my thigh. His right hand slid higher, holding me exactly where he wanted me.
“I lied.”
My breath stuttered. His confession broke something inside me wide open. My body demanding more of this.
I barely felt his teeth as they pierced my skin. Nothing more than a prick of a thorn. But after a few seconds the pain melted into a sense of… release. Of… pleasure. Intense, unyielding pleasure snaked through me, seeking out new places to tantalize.
My skin pebbled with gooseflesh. My nipples peaked. One hand twisted in the bedsheets, the other tightened in his. Squeezing his fingers as my back arched off the mattress and a moan tore from my throat. His name trembled on my tongue, and I bit it back, terrified he’d hear the truth in it.
I shouldn’t be acting this way. Not at all. Bastien was drinking my blood. It was unnatural and disgusting, and I was a terrible person for even liking it.
As soon as the word blood entered my head, I had to remind myself to breathe as a wave of dizziness rolled through me. But just as I was feeling flush, Bastien’s teeth retracted, and he pulled back an inch, licking my thigh to catch the warm drips that rolled down my skin.
His tongue, so close to that sensitive place, made me shudder. Our eyes connected as he lifted his chin an inch, staring at me hungrily over the mound of my sex. The shadows around his eyes had retreated, and he looked like the beautiful man I’d seen across the ballroom once more.
I’d done that for him. I’d helped him. No, I’d… sated him.
Bastien dragged his tongue over his lower lip. “I’ve never tasted anything half as delicious as you.”
The compliment struck at some dark chord inside me.
The part of me that wanted to be desired and devoured by this man.
The part that wanted him to touch me. I shoved that feeling to the side once more.
Attraction had nothing to do with reality.
I was on a mission. Feeding him was the price I had to pay to collect information.
“And to think,” I said, trying to sound witty to cover up how needy I felt, “you almost died just to get out of this arrangement.”
He made an amused sound before removing my legs from his shoulders and pulling the hem of my shift down, covering me. “How are you feeling? Dizzy?”
The way he asked the question almost made me feel like he cared. Almost. But I knew better. Bastien could never care about me. Nor I him.
I was a spy. He was a killer.