Chapter 28
Esiree
Iused to think the King of Devana was the most selfish monster in the world.
I used to think all Vampyr took and took at their whim—pillaging humans like resources.
My opinion couldn’t have been further from the truth.
At least, not about him. Not anymore. As he gazed back at me, there was anything but selfishness behind those dark eyes.
Every ounce of lust and desire a male could muster would never cloud the selflessness that sat below the surface.
Begging to be acknowledged. Seeking my approval.
My resolve lay broken, whether from witnessing the suffering in Muir, or the moment he entered that tent covered in blood, I knew not.
It was exhausting to hate him. He was so undeserving of my hostility.
Even hating his kind became more difficult with each passing day.
I did the only thing I felt I could—I surrendered.
I had surrendered twice and did not regret it, because in his embrace I swallowed not just my narrow frame of mind, but all my deceitful intent and guilt along with it.
When he looked at me, I felt cherished and protected.
What judgement awaited me for being a pawn in a greater plan, one Roxelana’s father would not let me soon forget?
My emotions felt like a storm at sea, his affections steadying the violent sway of my vessel.
I wanted Vastion and the Parcaetes to succeed more than anything.
I wrapped up all my hope in their quest, giving little thought to my father’s progress.
Soon enough we’d visit Leto, and I’d have no idea how to convey any of this to him in a way that would influence them to stand down.
Upon my arrival here, I had felt differently.
I had wanted to infiltrate the Heart, find its weakness, exploit it and make Vastion and all Vampyr suffer. How would I ever make them see?
Vastion’s words tugged me from the well of thoughts of which I descended. “I’ve not been selfish in a very long time.”
“Then perhaps the time has come. Have you thought about how you might indulge?” I taunted, flying perilously close to the sun.
He positioned himself in front of me and slowly dragged his finger along my neck, down my collarbone and across my breast where it crested above my dress. The moisture from the steam in the air gathered like dew on his fingertip, sending a tingle down my center.
“When I’m around you, restraint seems impossible.” He circled me slowly. “One wrong move, and I might act on these urges and lose my entire kingdom.”
My breath hitched as my imagination conjured visions of him biting me and committing the highest crime.
“You really think you’d lose control? That you might actually bite me?
” I questioned, fearing the answer but knowing my mind had danced along this ledge many times.
Sometimes I feared it, but lately I’d almost come to covet it, ignoring the permanence of such a rash decision.
Embracing the idea of eternal life and all its mystery.
Vastion smiled as he returned to my front, flashing his perfect, fangless teeth. But would they remain concealed? He let out a small, amused laugh.
“No, my darling. I jest. I am completely in control when I’m around you.” He ran his hands along my arms, holding them gently. “I would push myself to the edge, but I cherish you too deeply to ever risk losing you.”
Vastion took my hand again and escorted me farther into the cavernous space.
A rising pressure in my chest told me I was about to experience the true essence of the Falls, the possibilities of what lay ahead constricting my very breath.
Would I allow myself to go any further with him, or would I make some quip preceding a hasty escape? A blurred line I’d often toyed with.
He led me beyond the private shower that Lord Tempus had presented to me and guided us toward a room I’d not yet discovered.
In the corner, water raced from a rocky opening above, plunging melodically into a modestly sized pool.
Torchlight everywhere illuminated the crystal-clear water, accentuating its blue-green hue.
Most uniquely, there was an exquisite stone daybed in the shape of an S that sat in the middle of it, hovering just above the waterline.
It was the centerpiece of the space, a milky pale-colored stone.
Smooth and carved, not naturally formed like the walls and ceiling.
Someone must have placed it there when the spacious bathhouse was established.
“This is called the Throne Room,” Vastion said, an undeniable smirk forming across his lips as he looked in the direction of the stone chaise. But there was a shift in his tone. It was not playful like our normal banter; it was heavy with intent.
He walked slowly toward the wall and began removing his jacket and undershirt, revealing his bare chest. The last time I’d witnessed his physique, he was covered in dried blood, and I had given in to my desire to kiss him.
Now he was clean, and every ripple of his well-formed muscles were on display for me to appraise.
And appraise I did! Wrought by the Gods intent to create a masterpiece.
His defined obliques, smooth and solid as marble.
His eyes shining like jewels, radiant with lust. There was no shame in admiring him—after all, he was my husband.
“What does one do in the Throne Room?” I inquired, innocently enough. Vastion’s state of undress continued as he removed his boots then walked toward me in nothing but his trousers.
“Why, worship the royals, of course.”
I scoffed. “Ha, I do not plan on worshipping you!”
In one abrupt motion, Vastion lifted me up and threw me into the pool. I rose from beneath the water, my gown and hair fully drenched, gasping for air. Anger rushed through me.
“How dare—”
Vastion blurred across the room, entering the water with impossible speed and pressing his lips to mine, cutting off my words. He cupped my face in his strong hands and consumed my astonishment with a passionate exchange.
When he pulled away to let me catch my breath, he declared with a charming smile, “I never said anything about worshipping me. Have you so easily forgotten your own station?”
“Do royals also get thrown into a pool against their will?” I complained, tucking wet strands of hair behind my ear and feeling the weight of my wet gown tugging at my ankles.
“If I hadn’t, you’d still be thinking about how you’re going to deny me once again, or how nervous you’d be removing all those layers. Either way, I’ve successfully distracted you.”
I fumed at his audacity. “And now I’m the only person to bathe in these falls fully clothed. What a tragedy.”
“We’ll remedy that—if you allow me,” he added while moving his fingers toward the ribbon nestled between my breasts at the center of my corset.
He gently pulled, loosening it, allowing for a better view of my cleavage, and I didn’t stop him.
He slid one side of the gown down my shoulder and began to place gentle kisses along it and up my neck, lapping up droplets with his lips.
The warmth of the water cocooned me against the shivers he caused, leaving goosebumps across my exposed flesh.
“The sound of your heartbeat when you desire me is perhaps my favorite sound of all,” Vastion revealed, reminding me that I was in the arms of more than a man.
“And the sound of you desperate for me is perhaps my favorite,” I taunted, grabbing his neck to brace myself and wrapping my legs around his waist. The layers of my dress lingered in his wake as he led me through the water to the bed at the center, before lifting me up like I weighed nothing.
My shoes had already fallen off the moment he saw fit to throw me into the pool.
My heels locked beneath the flexing curve of his buttocks.
Water rushed out from the fabric clinging to my body as he placed me atop the throne.
Though the stone bed was wide enough for us both, he did not join me.
Content to admire the shape of my form beneath the wet garments, Vastion just stood there.
Beneath the drenched fabric, he traced a seductive line that began at my ankle and wound its way up my leg.
My flesh was cold and damp, yet it seemed to ignite under the winter chill of his touch, generating a fierce, betraying heat the higher his fingers climbed.
There was a small, fully submerged platform beneath the bed, creating a walkable ledge on all sides.
Vastion knelt down beside me and turned my chin to face him.
He placed a soft kiss on my lips, probing for protests that might stifle his progress.
I did not begrudge him these moments of doubt.
My behavior had been the cause of them. My wanton expression granted him permission as he moved his hand farther up my thigh, squeezing it tightly before gently grazing my sex along the wet undergarment.
He kissed me again, this time deeper, more possessively, while increasing the pressure from his fingers. My back arched against the stone beneath me, longing to feel more. Our kiss became breathless, and in the haze of my want I whispered, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
Knowing my words lacked any real reluctance, he said breathily, “This is the only thing we should be doing,” and pressed his mouth to mine.
Vastion moved to the end of the bed and pushed my skirt all the way up, uncovering my legs, and positioned them in the most unladylike way, exposing me but for the thin fabric of my underwear. He stood where I could admire the outline of his thick erection concealed beneath his wet trousers.
“Who claims this throne?” he asked, delaying my gratification.
“I do!” I answered, offering the words as a prayer, desperate for the Gods to let them be the right ones. Every passing second was a refined torture, and I feared the frayed remnants of my resolve would finally snap.