Chapter 27 Valen
VALEN
My little Princess is an accident waiting to happen. I worry about her getting so close to the fire—she’s flammable, especially her long, golden-brown hair—in a way I’m not. Of course, if we were Bonded, she’d get my immunity to flame but we’re not.
And we won’t ever be, I remind myself. The woman sitting in my lap is my enemy—she’s declared that she will be my Mistress, and she has power over me because she wears the ring and I wear the collar.
But she seems so fragile, sitting in my lap.
So easy to wound. I can’t help remembering how I felt when I walked into the Common Room and saw that bastard trying to drag her away while nobody did a Goddess-damned thing to stop him.
When I saw that—saw his filthy hands on her and the look of fear on her face—a bright flame of possession flared to life in my heart—a feeling that he was touching someone who is mine.
And somehow, I haven’t quite gotten over that feeling yet.
I can tell that being close like this is making Irena uneasy…but it’s also making her hot. The warm feminine scent of her desire tickles my nose—it’s even stronger than the sour scent of the shirt she’s wearing. Goddess—that thing has got to go.
“Hey, what are you doing?” she demands, as I start pulling it off her.
“Taking this off you—it fucking stinks,” I growl.
“But I’m cold!” she protests. But I don’t think that’s the only reason she wants to hold onto the shirt.
When I peel it off her and toss it to one side, I can see her full breasts, barely contained by the thin material of her white shift.
The tight points of her nipples poke at the fabric, making my cock surge.
“I’ll warm you up,” I tell her. I pull her closer and put my arms around her, surrounding her small, curvy body with my own. “There, isn’t that better?” I murmur in her ear.
I feel her shiver and I don’t think it’s because she’s cold anymore. Her sweet scent gets stronger—oh yes, she’s warming up all right and not just in the temperature sense.
Thinking of that makes my throat ache with thirst. Before I bit her the other night, I hadn’t had blood in almost a year.
Because that fucking bastard, her brother, wasn’t about to send me a woman to drink from.
That means my Drake is still depleted—I need to build him up again.
Even summoning him enough to light the fire tonight was an effort.
I need to be at peak strength before we enter Thornmere.
“You know, Princess, I’m getting awfully thirsty,” I tell her.
A little shiver runs through her and a touch of panic spikes the scent of her desire.
“Must you drink from me every night?” she asks in a small voice.
“Every night,” I assure her. “But it doesn’t have to hurt like it did last night—I was too thirsty to be careful with you. Tonight, I’ll make it easier…less painful,” I promise.
“It…it didn’t hurt that much.” She shifts in my lap and her soft, round bottom rubs against my aching cock. Gods, I love a woman with curves!
“Don’t try to be brave about it,” I tell her. “I know it’s painful when I bite you—I’ll try to make it easier tonight.”
“All right.” She straightens her spine and turns her head around to look at me. “Let’s get it over with then.”
“Oh, no, Princess,” I murmur. “Have you forgotten? First, I need to heat you up a little—cold blood is no good to me.”
“My blood isn’t cold!” she protests, wiggling in a most distracting way.
“You know what I mean. I’m not talking about the temperature of your blood—it’s your desire I need. You have to be hot before I drink from you.”
I pull the long, silky hair away from the side of her neck and allow my fangs to come out. I kiss the vulnerable skin just under her ear, letting her feel them prick her just a little.
She shivers and I smell the spike in her desire—oh yes, we’re getting there. But I don’t want to rush things…I like to savor this time before I bite. I want to drive her wild with need before I sink my fangs into her inner thigh.
“What…what are you doing?” she asks, when I slide my hands around to cup her full, heavy breasts. I love the way they fill my palms—love the fact that she’s got curves to spare.
“Just heating you up, Princess,” I tell her as I begin to tease her tight peaks with my thumbs.
Many males have the idea that you ought to just grab a woman’s nipples and start pulling or twisting, but that’s almost never what she wants. You need to take your time—tease her, caress her. Make her moan for you. And that’s exactly what I plan to do with my little Princess.
“You…you shouldn’t do that,” she pants, but she’s not trying to pull away. In fact, she arches her back, pushing her breasts further into my hands. I respond by tugging lightly on her tender tips. I pull the front of her shift down, baring her tits to the firelight.
“Oh!” she protests breathlessly. “Oh, you…you can’t!”
“Relax, sweetheart,” I murmur and kiss her neck again, which makes her moan softly. “I’m just warming you up.”
“But…but it makes me feel so…so strange when you do that,” she protests. “When you touch me.”
She squeezes her thighs together as she talks and I know exactly what she means.
“Is it making your soft little pussy wet?” I growl in her ear. “Is that the problem?”
“I…we don’t talk about things like that where I’m from,” she says primly.
“Well, maybe it’s time to start talking. Or maybe we can skip to something else.”
I pull up her shift and let my hand slip down to cup her soft little pussy through her thin silk panties.
“Oh!” She gives a little cry and nearly bolts out of my lap.
“Relax, sweetheart,” I say, tightening my grip on her. “I touched you here last night—remember?”
“Yes, but you shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have let you!” she protests.
“I have to touch you in order to make you hot,” I murmur. I have a sudden inspiration. “Or, if you want, you can touch yourself.”
“Touch…touch myself?” She twists her head around to give me an incredulous look. It’s as though I suggested she fly to the moon. “I would never—” she begins.
“Don’t lie to me.” I let my voice drop to a growl. She’s not telling the truth—I can tell by her scent. “You know you touch yourself—you slip your hand into your panties and stroke your soft little pussy at night when nobody’s looking, don’t you?”
Her cheeks go red with shame and I know I’m right.
“How…how did you know that?” she whispers.
“Because you’ve got a hot nature—you’re not like those cold, skinny women you grew up around,” I tell her. “You’ve got needs, sweetheart—and there’s nothing wrong with meeting those needs any way you can.”
“I…I know I shouldn’t do it but sometimes I can’t help it,” she whispers, arching her back restlessly. I’m still cupping one of her tits, teasing her nipple as I rub her pussy through her panties. She’s getting really wet—wet enough that I can feel a damp spot growing on the silk.
“Why don’t you show me?” I suggest. I’m intrigued by the mixture of shame and desire I hear in her voice.
“Show you?” she asks uncertainly.
“How you touch yourself,” I say. “Look…” Taking my hand from her pussy, I take her by the wrist and slide her own hand down between her legs.
“Slip your fingers into your panties and pet that soft little pussy for me.” I let my voice drop to a soft growl as I kiss the side of her neck.
“If you don’t want me to touch you, you need to touch yourself for me, Princess.
You need to get nice and hot for me before I bite you. ”
“You…you want to watch me touch myself?” Her voice is breathless—horrified and yet intrigued by what I’m suggesting. And her scent is getting so hot it makes me want to flip her over and sink my cock to the hilt inside her.
But that’s not part of the plan—at least not for tonight.
“Yes, touch yourself,” I growl. “Pet that sweet little pussy for me.”
“I…I shouldn’t…” But her soft little fingers are already slipping into the waistband of her panties.
“Good,” I murmur. “Now spread your pussy lips open and slip your fingers inside.
“I…I can’t…” But she’s doing it. I can see how wet she is, how the damp white silk is clinging to the tight little pearl of her clit.
“Good girl,” I murmur and lick the side of her neck, making her shiver. Her skin is salty-sweet—fucking delicious. “Now stroke yourself,” I tell her. “Pet that sweet little clit—make yourself feel good.”
“Oh…ohhhh,” she moans and her hips are thrusting as she obeys my orders. I can see her fingers moving under the damp silk of her panties and the scent of her desire is making me fucking crazy. Not to mention the way her round, plump bottom is rubbing against my shaft.
My fangs are aching but I know I have to be patient—I want her to come before I bite her.
“That’s right, sweetheart—stroke your little clit,” I say, my voice coming out in a hoarse growl. “Make yourself come for me.”
“I…I don’t know what…what you mean,” she pants.
“You don’t know what I mean when I tell you to make yourself come?”
I’m surprised, though maybe I shouldn’t be.
It sounds like she was raised in the most prudish environment possible.
The women in her Court are expected to be ice maidens—skinny and sexless.
But my curvy little Princess has hungers and needs—she doesn’t fit into that mold.
She just needs someone to help her break free.
“It means you reach the peak of pleasure,” I explain. “Where you feel so good you sort of explode.”
“Is…is that what happened to you in the bathtub?” she asks. “When all that white cream shot out of your, uh, equipment all over your chest?”
Her innocence makes me want to laugh, but it’s a serious question.
“Yes, baby—that was me coming,” I tell her. “Did you like watching me?”
“I…yes. Yes, I did,” she admits in a soft voice. “But…I don’t know if I can do that. I’ve had that feeling before—like I was building to some kind of peak—but I always feel too guilty and stop before I reach it.”
“You’re not stopping tonight,” I tell her. “Keep stroking your pussy, sweetheart. I want you to come for me.”
“I…I’m trying,” she moans. “Oh, Goddess—it feels so good! Why is it so wrong?”
“It’s not, Princess.”
Despite the fact that we’re enemies, I can’t help feeling for her—being raised with guilt around your own body is a heavy burden to bear.
“It’s all right to make yourself feel good,” I tell her. “It’s your body—you should do what you want with it.”
“It’s my body,” she repeats and I can see that her fingers are flying between her legs. “It’s all right to…to feel good.”
“That’s right,” I murmur. Cupping both her breasts again, I tug on her nipples as I kiss and lick her neck. “That’s right, baby, pet your soft little cunt for me…make yourself come.”
“I…I think I’m…I’m doing it!” she pants, and her curvy body stiffens in my arms. “Oh Goddess, Valen—I think I’m coming!”
Her hips buck and her back arches as she gives into the pleasure flooding through her. I think I feel an echo of it as she rubs against me, her curvy ass right against my aching cock.
“Fuck, baby—look at you!” I growl in her ear. “Look how hot you are when you pet your little pussy and make yourself come. That’s a good girl—come for me—come hard!”
“I am…I’m coming!” she nearly wails, writhing against me. “Oh, why does it feel so good?” she gasps, as she collapses back against me, panting.
“Probably because it’s your first time—the first time you let yourself reach the peak.”
Reaching down, I pull her hand out of her panties. Her fingers glisten with her juices and her scent is so strong and delicious it makes me fucking dizzy.
“What…what are you doing?” she asks, looking at me with wide eyes.
“Tasting you.” I duck my head to capture her fingers in my mouth, sucking away all her salty-sweet honey. Gods, I love her taste even more than her smell! “Fucking delicious,” I growl, when I finally let her go.
“I…you…” She looks bewildered and confused…but also intrigued. “You…you like the taste?”
“Yes, I fucking love the way you taste, Princess,” I tell her. “But right now, what I need to taste is your blood.”
Coaxing her through her first orgasm has made my throat dry as a desert and my cock is throbbing. I need to drink from her and then I need to come—in that order.
“Be a good girl and lay on your back and spread your thighs for me, Princess,” I tell her. “I need to bite you now.”