26. Midnight Picnic
Midnight Picnic
Luka cleared his throat behind Matilda.
“What ails you, Luka?” she asked as she packed the provisions for their midnight picnic. She was still recovering from their bath and the immediate bedroom activities that followed, prompting Luka to cancel their hunt in the woods and settle for what he hoped would be a romantic picnic instead.
“I have something for you.”
Matilda glanced over her shoulder to find her lover cradling a white nightgown in his arms. She recognized it as the same ethereal gown in the back of her wardrobe.
She never wore it because she knew it belonged to Anastasia.
The white one had a faint perfumed scent unlike the other robes and dresses.
She sighed, knowing he would ask her to wear it for him, and she’d have to let him down gently.
“What is it, Luka?” she asked, giving him her undivided attention. Luka swallowed harshly, unsure where the sudden spike of anxiety came from. He cleared his throat again before proceeding.
“Would you do me the honor of wearing this tonight?”
“Is there something wrong with my dress?” she asked softly.
“Of course not. I—”
“No,” Matilda replied firmly. Luka stared at her, momentarily stunned by the rejection.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not her.”
Luka clutched the dress in his fingers. “I know you’re not her,” he remarked through clenched teeth. “You are far from her, but—”
“No, Luka. I—”
Matilda jerked in surprise when Luka threw the nightgown onto the floor and barreled out of the cottage. She peeked out the window and watched him storm off through the woods in a huff.
“He is too old to be throwing tantrums like a petulant child,” she fussed, retrieving the evening dress.
She folded it neatly, placed it on the bed, and knelt at a clothing trunk.
Matilda smirked when she pulled out the hidden gown.
“This is more fitting, and I think Luka will have no choice but to agree.”
***
Luka sat alone on a stump as he worked through his emotions.
He wanted to tell her that he wanted her to wear the dress because he thought it would make her look like an angel.
The soft white would clash against her sepia skin under the moonlight, blinding him with her unrestrained beauty.
He wasn’t utterly unreasonable; he could see how Matilda thought he might be trying to live in the past, but she couldn’t be further from the truth.
He had laid his grief to rest as soon as he tasted her.
He loved Anastasia immensely, but she was his past, and Matilda was his future.
He inhaled deeply, catching her changing scent as she entered the forest. Their child’s scent was beginning to mix with hers; a good sign that their offspring was healthy and strong.
“Oh, where art thou, my King? Is he hiding from me?” she called out.
Her voice reached him like a whisper in the wind.
“Call out to me, my King, for I am only a defenseless maiden.” Luka snorted.
Defenseless? He’d wager his crown she had a few concealed daggers on her person.
“My King, will you not save me? Will you allow me to cruelly perish in these treacherous woods?”
He smirked. “I thought sirens only existed in the sea.”
“We grew weary of waiting for our victims to come to us. We prayed to the gods and were granted legs.”
Luka laughed under his breath. “It seems I’ve fallen out of favor with the gods.”
“It’s presumptuous of you to believe you were ever in favor of them,” she whispered, placing the edge of her blade under his Adam’s apple.
“Will you not have mercy on me, sweet siren?” Luka queried with his back still turned to her.
“Feast your eyes upon me and see.” Luka turned and was rendered breathless at the sight of her beauty. “What do you think?” she asked with a spin.
He stood and ran a finger over her exposed shoulder, kissed by the moonlight. “I think I do have a soul after all because surely I must be in Heaven,” he whispered. Heat flooded Matilda’s cheeks as her beloved circled her and drank her in like a full chalice of the purest blood.
“Why is that?”
“Because there is an angel in my midst.”
“An angel dripping in crimson? I never heard such a thing.”
Luka became insatiable with need for his cunning queen.
Unbeknownst to him, she enlisted the assistance of a seamstress to have his fallen queen’s gown replicated in the color of blood.
He stopped behind her and gently cupped her throat, pulling her to him until her rounded ass was flushed against him.
A low moan slipped from Matilda’s lips from the feeling of him.
“My dear, what you fail to remember is that angels are fierce fighters who are no strangers to blood and death. I apologize, my love. My intentions were not to associate you with Anastasia. I wanted to appreciate your beauty, but this…this is so much sweeter,” he whispered as his fingers skimmed her minuscule baby bump.
It was starting to form, softening her taut abdominals.
“You’re forgiven. Shall we feast?” she asked, lifting the basket.
“Only if you allow me to feed you.”
“You may at your own risk. You’re not the only one who likes to bite.”
***
Matilda gasped as he licked the cherry juice from the corner of her mouth.
“Delicious,” he murmured before his tongue caressed hers. He followed that with a firm stroke that made both of their toes curl. It only took one “accidental” curl of Matilda’s tongue around Luka’s finger for their picnic to become something more.
“Let me take you, my King,” Matilda requested, smiling against his lips when he obediently flipped them over, handing her the reins of control. His fingers clenched her ass under her nightgown, offering assistance as he rolled his hips, hitting the spot that made her mouth drop.
“Are you taking me, or am I still taking you?” he taunted playfully as he continued to pleasure her from below.
Matilda screwed her eyes shut and ignored him as she chased her release. Her inner muscles squeezed around his girthy length, slicking him with her arousal. She was nearly embarrassed by how she gushed on him, but that shame became fleeting once she reached her climax.
Luka sat up with his queen still straddling his lap. He sliced his neck with a sharp nail and guided her parted lips to him.
“Let this prove my dedication, commitment, and love to you. Drink, my Queen.”
Matilda’s tongue trailed the blood without hesitation until her lips wrapped around the wound.
Luka’s head fell back, taken by surprise.
He had forgotten how euphoric it felt to be fed from.
His dick pulsed inside her as she greedily took from him, and he generously emptied in her.
He noticed when it happened—when their hearts synced and started beating as one, confirming they were fated mates.
Her tongue flicked against the wound before she pulled away. Her eyes searched his, wondering if he felt what she did—a binding that tethered them together for as long as she had breath and blood ran through her veins.
Luka smeared the blood across her lips with a thumb. “You are mine, huntress.”
“As you are mine, vampire.”
***
Confusion crossed Luka’s features as he flew toward the castle. From a distance, he could see Ezra pacing the courtyard, awaiting their arrival. He touched down and gently lowered his bride to her feet.
“You two look sated,” Ezra complimented.
“Not nearly enough,” Matilda replied with a teasing smile.
“I expected nothing less from our deviant queen.”
“Ezra, what has happened in our absence?” Luka asked.
“Nobles from the House of Marquis have made an unexpected arrival.”
Luka hesitated. An unannounced visit from the nobles never brought tidings of good news. “And what do the Nobles of Marquis want?”
Ezra’s eyes guiltily shifted towards Matilda before landing back on Luka.
“The town is still abuzz from the public announcement, and the nobles are incensed that your chosen mate is a human. Lawrence Marquis is offering his daughter, Alaria Marquis, hand in marriage.”
“I deny it!”
Ezra dipped his chin in acknowledgment. “Noble Marquis foresaw this and is declaring a challenge for the queen’s throne.”
Luka instinctively clutched Matilda to his side. “I deny it!” he repeated, anger and resentment toward the nobles growing by the second.
“What does this mean, Ezra?” Matilda asked cautiously.
“You must fight to the death to remain by King Alesi’s side.”