16. Pussies Love a Prince
Chapter 16
Pussies Love a Prince
CINDER
T he door creaks loudly when I open it to my apartment. It’s time to jam our feet into those glass shoes and get back to Midnight. After I grab a few things to take with me.
My heart skips a beat with excited anticipation. That surprises me.
There is certainly dread coursing through me. There is danger and past pain, but a bigger part of me truly missed the Midnight realm. The kingdom has been irrevocably woven into the fabric of my being. Even those traumatic years after my father died couldn’t change that.
But I also love the Common World.
I’m tired as all fae fucks from straddling two worlds, two time zones, and two lives. But it also feels so right, as if two halves of myself are coming together.
This time I’ll be packing even more iron supplements and snacks to offset my anemia which is acting up like a bitch. The constant stress of swirling ballrooms, the shocking bombshells about my father’s supposed murder, and enduring an unexpected public proposal have nearly put me on my ass multiple times now.
It’s no wonder my anemia has decided to rear its ugly head. The sheer exhaustion and emotional rollercoaster have drained me to the point where my hands tremble and my vision blurs at the worst possible moments. I hate the reminder I've had so much strength sucked out of me. Literally.
A clatter from our tiny kitchenette explodes in the apartment. It only takes a half step around the corner to see what’s going on. Snow is in sweatpants and a tank top with her hair in a messy bun, making her behavior look all the more wild. She wields the bristle side of a broom at the hissing fluffy cat inside our cabinet. Lucifer pushes a glass off the shelf. It shatters on the floor next to even more shards of glass.
“Damn you, demon kitty from hell,” Snow cries out.
“What are you doing?”
The question comes from behind me, where Kaison’s chest brushes my shoulder blades, sending a shiver through my body.
Snow’s head whips around. “This cat is out for blood. He won’t be satisfied until he’s burned this apartment to the ground after pissing in all our shoes.”
As if to confirm, Lucifer hisses and swipes a clawed paw at Snow from his perch. My roommate shakes the broom back at the feline with menace.
Strong hands move me aside as Kaison walks into our kitchenette/living room, observing the scene closer.
Then without a care in the world, he gets between the two battling enemies, reaches into the cabinet, and gingerly pulls out the demon cat from our cupboard.
Snow’s mouth drops open with the disbelief I feel.
In seconds, the fucking Satan cat is purring in Kaison’s arms.
“What in the fae fucks is happening right now?” Snow asks in equal parts awe and disgust.
Kaison rubs the cat’s ears and the purr double times. “What can I say? Pussies love me.” Then he throws us that cheeky grin of his.
The broom hits the ground with a clatter as Snow stomps out of the kitchen. “That’s it, I’m out.” The door to her room slams shut behind her.
I grab the dustpan, pick up the broom, and start to clean up the broken glass. “Stupid ass cat.”
Kaison puts the cat down in the living room and crosses over to crouch beside me as if to help.
I reach out and grab a large chunk of glass, but Kaison’s proximity throws me, and my thumb slides across the sharp end, splitting the skin there.
I curse and suck the split digit into my mouth.
Kaison stiffens next to me. My heart thumps erratically, fearfully.
I’m bleeding.
In front of a vampire.
Slowly, I raise my gaze to meet his.
His pupils have swallowed his irises, and he stares at me with blatant hunger. Kaison's Adam's apple bobs in a slow, forced movement.
Fear skitters down my spine like a rodent on the run.
I bite on my thumb with my blunt teeth, as if to force the pain to drown out the sudden terror that grips me.
“Cinder,” he says slowly, as if afraid of spooking me.
It’s already too late.
Adrenaline pumps through me. Any second he’s going to lunge at me. Tackle me to the ground and sink his teeth into me. He won’t stop even when I’m screaming in agony, begging him for mercy.
“Cinder,” he repeats, voice thick with emotion.
Faintness threatens to pull me under, fighting with the adrenaline.
“I’m not going to bite you.”
It takes my rioting senses a minute to register what he says.
“I’m not going to bite you, Cinder,” he repeats.
Even as he says it, he inches closer to me slowly, painstakingly. One hand pulls my wrist, removing my thumb from my mouth. But he doesn’t go for my broken flesh. His dark eyes remain fixed on mine, trapping me in this moment.
I should whack him with the dustpan. I should scream. I should run like hell.
Instead, I remain perfectly still as his lips brush against mine.
My thumb disappears into my fist where I squeeze it tight to staunch the bleeding.
I’m not sure who releases the shuddering breath, him or me, but it mingles between us. Another light pass of pressure and my fear recedes as something else rises up inside me. Raw, powerful desire.
Neither of us close our eyes, the visual contact somehow important, vital to not ruining this.
Kaison doesn’t lean in again but licks his lips. He’s waiting for me to make the next move. Despite the fact I see the bloodlust clearly stamped on his face, he is in complete control, proving it to me.
His expression repeats his words, I won’t bite you.
There is something under that message, something I’m missing, but I can’t pull it out because there is too much swirling inside my body, my head, whispering across my lips.
With a hard swallow, I cross the distance this time, pressing my lips against his in a real kiss.
His mouth yields to me, letting me take control. Kaison’s lips are firm and soft in all the right places. His hands frame my face gently, still letting me direct this. Something hot and burning passes between us that is almost painful.
I test the texture, the drugging delicious taste of him until my mouth opens, letting his tongue slide in. A low groan rips out of his throat and my body responds with swirling hot liquid in my lower belly.
There it is again. The fear. The arousal.
Fearousal.
Fingers slide into my hair, gripping tightly as he licks at my tongue. He must be tasting the blood there. He samples then devours my mouth with sensual expertise until I’m gasping, panting, and needy.
The burning intensifies. I must have got his lips with my teeth because I taste the metallic slickness of blood and it’s not mine.
Kaison’s eyes flutter closed as he kisses me more insistently, plundering my mouth. The piercing on his tongue swipes in passing mine. I test pressure on the hoop on his lower lip until we are more certain of each other. The kiss becomes more intense, confident, and intoxicating.
Though any traces of my blood must be gone by now, Kaison still ravages my mouth as if it’s the most addicting thing he’s known.
He breaks with another needy moan. “You taste like if heaven and hell combined for a smoke-infused ambrosia.”
His words come out thready, needy, and though he’s the one with the fangs, able to rip out my jugular, for the moment it feels like he’s at my mercy. Like I own him utterly and completely.
Then I see the blood on his lip. My silver tongue ring. That’s what the burning is. Where the fresh blood is coming from. The silvers seared his flesh, yet he kept kissing me. He bled for me .
Something shifts inside me. As if an old, stagnant part of myself is dislodging and reorganizing. The block of intense emotions—terror, anger, fear, pain—that once anchored me begins to shift. Suddenly, there are two punctures in this block, allowing light to filter through the darkness.
My hands find his shoulders, using them to steady myself, hold on, or test the muscle underneath. Or really, all three.
“Fae lords, what you do to me,” he says like a prayer. Kaison dips his head toward my throat.
His lips barely brush my jugular before I slam him back. He hits his ass and I’m across the room, panting, fear back at the forefront again and exploding like fireworks in my head.
“Sorry, sorry,” he rushes to say, lifting his hands. “I forgot. No fangs near your body. I know.”
My black lipstick is smudged over his mouth, adding a new layer of confusion and fear. Fear of how much I like my mark on him.
I fight for breath as if I’ve been running for miles. The erratic beat of my heart begins to drain my energy and I press to the wall, using it to keep me upright. Fae fucking anemia.
Twice in one night. This is some bullshit.
What he tried was bullshit.
That’s what I try to tell myself, but the look of anguish and apology contorting his handsome features is difficult to ignore. The way he burned himself, bled for me just so he could kiss me.
You can’t trust him. He’s a vampire. He’s one of them.
Pushing himself to stand, he grabs the broom and dustpan, gaze averted from mine. “You should go bandage that up. I’ll clean this up.”
My mouth opens but nothing comes out.
Too much, too much, too much.
Overwhelmed, my heart beats too fast in fluttery panic.
So I turn and leave, closing the door to my bedroom behind me. Putting a physical barrier between us instantly makes me feel more secure. My forehead rests against the mottled wood, hand still on the knob. A wave of exhaustion sweeps over me.
Words filter through the door as I catch Kaison presumably speaking to the cat. “I know, I know. I fucked up. Don’t look at me like that. I know. I want to do it again, but I can’t.”
A sigh escapes me.
I know the feeling.