17. Primal Instincts
Primal Instincts
Matilda’s teeth chattered as she traversed through the frozen forest. It had been at least an hour since her feet touched down in the snow, and she’d yet to come across her vampire admirer in the woods.
The delusional king was concerned about her suffering from indigestion when he should’ve been worried she’d catch a sickness of the chest.
She continued deeper into the forest, following her nose.
They had bedded each other so much that she realized the vampire king had a distinct smell.
He smelled of clovers mixed with iron from the copious amount of blood he consumed.
His scent was comforting—marginally addictive—reminding her of gingerbread, mulled wine, and a toffee apple treat she had devoured as a child. It reminded her of a simpler time.
Matilda perked up a few minutes later when his scent threatened to bombard her.
“He’s close,” she whispered, readying the carving knives she had swiped from the tender meats she consumed at dinner. Her breath caught when she discovered Luka relaxing in a natural hot spring. His clothes lay folded on a nearby log, with his boots placed beside them.
Soundlessly, she crept towards him, carefully avoiding any troublesome twigs that would give away her location.
She hoped the freshly fallen powdery snow didn’t give away her position.
She couldn’t hear her footfalls, but she also didn’t have supernatural hearing like the vampire who recently found refuge between her thighs.
“You would be so cowardly to attack me while my back is turned?” he asked suddenly, stopping her in her tracks.
“I’m still holding out for five thousand gold coins.”
Luka snorted and ran his fingers through his damp hair.
“I should’ve known better. You hunters have no morals.”
Matilda lowered her knives to the snow.
“Ironic that someone without a soul can speak on morals.”
“Fair point. Will you join me?”
“I don’t appreciate your ruse. I assumed I would be streaking vampire blood across the bleached snow when you ordered me to hunt you.”
Luka’s head fell back, exposing his Adam’s apple to the full moon. He wanted to take in his future queen as she disrobed.
“I’m sorry to disappoint. Strip for me, huntress.”
Matilda was unaware the horny vampire was gently palming himself beneath the steamy water as he watched her shimmy out of her dress.
He loathed himself for not telling her earlier how beautiful she was in her evening gown.
Black and gold complemented her best. She had a natural regalness that couldn’t be taught, bought, or replicated.
Again, he found himself comparing the future queen to his past love.
Anastasia was a timid wildflower, and despite her title, she struggled to make eye contact when she spoke to most. He adored her timidness, but Matilda’s confidence intrigued him in a way he’d never been moved before.
He licked his bottom lip as he caught sight of the curly thatch of hair blanketing the triangle above her womanhood. Her hair was impossibly soft, and he loved burying his nose in it whenever he feasted on her.
Luka wasn’t a public exhibitionist, but he loved fucking her outside in the snow.
Her nipples hardened, giving him purchase when he sucked and nipped them.
Her lips would tint blue, and he’d kiss them until they were pink from their exchange of heat.
There was something strangely intimate about watching warmth return to her, as though he were coaxing life back into something the coldness had stolen.
He’d use his outstretched wings to protect her from the harsh elements—the bite of the blustery wind, the icy rain, and the snowflakes that loved to cling to her lashes.
His vision trailed her as she hissed and cursed under her breath about freezing to death and losing her toes as she tiptoed toward the spring.
He grew harder when she sighed as she slid into the hot water.
It was the same sigh she’d release when he impaled her.
Her head always fell back, exposing her carotid to him.
The blood rushed through her veins, pumping and beckoning him to have a bite.
The huntress always tempted his restraint.
She had no idea how close she’d been to having her throat ripped out or how he could crush her skull with slight pressure when he cradled her close to him.
He could burst through her cervix if he thrusted as hard as he wanted.
She had no idea that when it came to her, he treated her like a delicate butterfly—fearful that he might rip a dainty wing.
“Why must you sit so far away, huntress?”
“Matilda,” she said, then reconsidered. “You may call me Tilda.”
His brows shot upward in surprise. The huntress was warming up to him.
“Very well, Tilda. Why must you sit so far away?”
“Because I wish to speak, and I know that won’t happen if we’re in close proximity.”
Luka scoffed. “You didn’t speak enough during dinner? I figured you’d want to give that mouth of yours a rest.”
“The last thing you’d do if you got your hands on me is let my mouth rest.”
He shot her a slow lopsided grin. He couldn’t argue—it was the truth.
He was always sticking something in her mouth—his tongue, fingers…
his dick. His shaft throbbed in his palm as he thought about all he wanted to do to her beneath the stars.
His memories stole him away to their carriage ride and how she rode him hard while sucking on his fingers that caressed her uvula at the back of her throat.
“You speak the truth. Talk, woman. I have a mouth to fill.”
Silence fell between them now that she had the floor.
She half-expected the vampire king to reject her refusal and distract her with sex.
Instead of snapping at her, Luka remained patient and examined her soft features from across the heated pool.
He noticed the scarring at her hairline when the cold wind tousled her curly bangs, and he couldn’t recall if he thoroughly apologized for smashing her head in the window.
“Feel free to deny me, but you never talk about Queen Anastasia.”
Luka’s eyes narrowed.
“Why would I?”
“I-I don’t know. I’m curious. What were her assigned duties?”
Luka took a moment to think.
“To be happy and bear my heirs.”
“That’s it?” she asked incredulously.
“That’s it. She wasn’t great with the public due to her timidness.”
“So, all I have to do is be happy and pop out a babe for you?”
“Not exactly. You will become my vampire-human liaison.”
“Essentially, you want me to convince the humans that you’re an exceptional king and that you only want the best for them, and they should follow you like sheep to the slaughter?”
“Essentially.”
“And I’m supposed to tell you if they’re planning a coup to remove you from power?”
“You’re catching on.”
“Perhaps I’ll keep that last one to myself,” Matilda teased as she crossed the pool.
“Is that so?” he asked, almost breathless as she traversed towards him.
She sighed as he gathered her in his arms. “I can see it now,” she declared, straddling his lap. “I’ll restore power to the humans, and we’ll live happily ever after.”
“They’ll behead you for being a traitor, you foolish woman.”
“Mhm, yes. Thank you for the reminder,” she whispered, tracing a finger along the jagged scars David had left across Luka’s chest. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“For saving my ass from the werewolves.”
“No need to thank me. I had ulterior motives.”
She giggled. “Your honesty is always refreshing. I’m curious. How did the fight go? You’ve rebuffed me every time I’ve asked.”
“Why won’t you let it go?” he said, groaning into her shoulder.
“Can you blame me for wanting a full account?”
“You’re expecting some fantastical story, but there’s not much to it. He was mid-shift when he barreled into me, sending us both crashing through the door. We attacked each other in the hall, both exchanging blows—”
“Get to the good part where you got this,” she demanded, tapping a finger to his chest.
“Be patient. I’m getting there.” She pouted.
He found it adorable and tried to kiss the frown off her lips until she pinched his nipple.
He hissed from the brief pain, but her message was received.
“I was distracted when Prince Lykaon dispatched more wolves to find you. That’s when I earned this,” he said, motioning to his scar.
“At that point, I was livid and disemboweled him.”
Matilda’s expression went slack.
“Is—”
“Unfortunately, he still lives, and I’m certain we will be going to war with the wolves once they’ve found their balls.”
“All because of me?” Matilda squeaked out.
“You’re self-absorbed. Are you aware of that?”
“It’s my middle name.”
Luka rolled his eyes and turned her away from him. She moaned when he began to massage her tense shoulders.
“You were the tipping point but not the sole reason. We’ve had ongoing skirmishes with the wolves for—”
Luka froze.
“What’s the matter?” She received her answer a second later when a vicious howl rumbled through the forest. It was followed by at least nine other howls.
“Wolves? How did they get here?”
“Get dressed. Quickly!”