Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
There’s something inherently thrilling about being the object of someone’s desire.
Even more so when that someone is a rich, powerful, and devastatingly gorgeous vampire.
I crook a finger to beckon Vincent closer, and he doesn’t waste time.
His hands wrap around my legs, and he slides my panties down in one smooth motion, tossing them to the floor.
I arch a brow in challenge, but the effect is ruined by the way my breath catches as he presses his palms to my inner thighs, spreading me wide.
He doesn’t dive in all sloppy and eager like most human men do. Instead, he takes a moment to just stare between my legs, seemingly savoring the view. It’s intense, but I refuse to squirm beneath the weight of his gaze, even as my heart beats a riot in my chest.
“See something you like?” I pant, trailing a hand down my stomach, then lower. I tease a fingertip along my seam, then spread myself open with my fingers, giving him an even more obscene view of the goods.
He hums in satisfaction, his teeth sinking into the pad of his lower lip as his gaze flicks up to meet mine. “Naughty girl,” he tuts, chuckling to himself.
The corner of my mouth ticks up. “So I’m told.”
His fingers close around my wrist, lifting my hand away as he leans in closer. I suppress a shiver as he trails the tip of his nose up to the apex of my thighs, inhaling deeply.
“Let’s see if your cunt’s half as delicious as your blood is, Tiffany,” he purrs, his tongue sliding out to lick a long, slow stripe from the bottom of my slit all the way up to my clit.
A shiver rattles through me, my hips jerking as my back arches off the couch.
It feels way too fucking good.
Vincent gets to work like he’s been starving for this, but he’s infuriatingly disciplined about it.
Each movement of his tongue is perfectly controlled, alternating between quick flicks and long, languid strokes.
He’s mapping me, I realize– learning exactly where to touch, how much pressure to apply, and what rhythm drives my hips up off the couch to chase more.
I try to keep quiet at first, but every time I clamp my lips together, a new surge of pressure cracks my resolve until I finally give in and let it all out. My cries and moans fill the air in a shameless cacophony of pleasure, Vincent humming against my pussy like he’s savoring the taste.
His tongue does inhuman things that quickly drive me to the brink of ruin. I don’t know if it’s the vamp super-speed or just decades of practice, but when he starts circling my clit with those impossibly fast, precise little motions, it’s like having a high-powered vibrator pressed against me.
“Fuck,” I gasp, my head tipping back as my hands scrabble uselessly against the leather cushions behind me. I barely notice when one of his hands slides beneath my ass to lift my hips higher, or when the other clamps down over my belly, holding me perfectly still so he can devour me.
He makes low grunts and soft, desperate groans, like the taste of me is making him lose his composure.
It’s hot as fuck, rapidly driving me closer to climax.
My body goes electric, every nerve ending rioting.
My mind goes blank to everything except where his mouth is locked on me, how good it feels, how close I’m getting…
When my thighs start to shake, he doubles down, tongue flicking impossibly fast as he sucks my clit between his lips.
I lose control, release crashing through me in a hot, blinding wave.
My vision whitens as I cry out– loud, shameless, and zero fucks given.
My hips buck so hard that I almost knee him in the face, but he just firms up his grip, licking me through every last spasm until I’m wrung out and shivering.
As I start to come down, I hear him groan, low and guttural. I blink my eyes open to find him still kneeling between my legs, his eyes glazed, mouth glistening… and a wet spot blooming on the crotch of his perfectly tailored slacks.
Holy shit… did he just come from eating me out?
I prop myself up on my elbows, still half-delirious and twice as bewildered. “Uh, do you need…?” I ask, gesturing vaguely at the situation between his legs and letting the question hang.
Vincent smirks, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand.
“No, I’m quite satisfied,” he says, his voice thick.
His eyes never leave mine– not even as he tugs a handkerchief from his jacket and dabs at the mess.
I feel like I should be grossed out or something, but somehow, it’s strangely… flattering?
“Uh, cool,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant as I push myself upright. I fumble for my panties on the floor, pulling them back on before smoothing my dress down over my trembling thighs.
He stands and straightens his suit, then sits down beside me again, close enough that I can smell his expensive cologne.
“So, business concluded?” I ask tentatively, trying to keep things professional even though I’m still a little flustered from the way he just worked me over.
He smiles, flashing a hint of fang. “Actually, I was hoping to chat for a few minutes. If you’re not in a rush.”
I hesitate. I’m never in a rush to leave a penthouse, but there’s something about the way he says it that instantly puts me on edge, the little hairs on the back of my neck prickling in warning.
“Sure,” I breathe, settling back against the couch. He’s paid for a half hour of my time, after all, so he’s technically still got five minutes to burn. “What’s on your mind?”
He studies me for a long moment, eyes bright with intrigue. “I hear that you’re acquainted with Taylor Holt.”
My heart stutters in my chest.
Not only is it alarming that he knows about my connection to Taylor, but my bestie has secrets. Big ones. The kind I’ve sworn to take to my grave.
“I am,” I say slowly.
“I’m interested in learning more about her,” he murmurs, swiping a hand over his chin. “Perhaps you can shed some light on how she came to occupy her current position at the king’s side?”
“Why do you ask?” I reply, keeping my tone light.
He smiles, but there’s nothing friendly about it now. “There are certain rumors circulating in my circles. About the king’s sudden and unusual attachment to a human.”
“So not even immortals are above gossip,” I snort, maintaining my composure even as my pulse picks up speed. “Good to know.”
His eyes narrow on me, his polite mask slipping. “Do not mock my kind.”
“Sorry,” I quickly amend, picking up on the abrupt shift in his demeanor. There’s a weird tension in the air now– something heavy and predatory, like the moment just before a dog bites. “I should probably go,” I mumble, pushing to my feet.
His hand darts out lightning fast, latching onto my wrist and yanking me back down. “Are you sure you don’t know something?” he presses, his gaze boring into mine.
My heart thuds against my ribs as I try to pull my hand back, but his grip is unyielding. “Taylor was a donor through Bite, same as me,” I grit out through clenched teeth. “She and James hit it off and fell in love. That’s all there is to it.”
“Love,” he scoffs, his fingers tightening around my wrist to the point of pain. “Vampires do not love.”
“You’re hurting me,” I whisper.
Vincent releases me instantly, his polite mask snapping back into place. “My apologies, Tiffany,” he drawls, his lips curving into a practiced smile. “Old habits.”
I draw my wrist in against my chest, scowling at him as I rub out the sting.
“Come,” he huffs, rising to stand. “I’ll walk you out.”
He offers me a hand, but I ignore it, getting to my feet on my own and quickly stepping past him. He follows me all the way to the elevator, looming behind me as I jab the call button to summon it.
Luckily, it arrives in a matter of seconds.
“Thank you again for your company,” he says as I step inside, voice smooth as silk. “I hope to see you again soon.”
I flash him a brittle smile, holding my breath as the steel doors glide closed between us.
All the air leaves my lungs in a whoosh once the elevator starts to descend. My mind’s racing, my pulse galloping, and when I reach the ground floor, I can’t get out of the damn building fast enough.
The black car is still waiting at the curb, the headlights flicking on the moment I emerge. I slide into the back seat, and the driver’s eyes dart up to the rearview mirror, concern painted all over his soft boy face.
“You okay?”
“Peachy,” I lie, leaning back against the leather and staring up at the condo building as the car pulls away.
My pulse doesn’t level out until we’re five blocks away, and even then, I’m still jittery.
Not with post-orgasm bliss, but the hair-raising sense that I just got way too close to something dangerous.
If he’s fishing for information about Taylor, he picked the wrong fucking pond. I know what it means to keep your life on lockdown; to choose survival over everything else. I’d sooner bite off my own tongue than betray someone I love.
The city slides by in a blur of neon and steel as nausea curls in my gut. I close my eyes, letting the hum of the road lull me for a second as my mind races to piece together how the hell to handle what just happened.
Maybe it was a one-off that’ll blow over.
Or maybe the game just changed.
Only time will tell.