Chapter 15 #3
She’s right, I told myself, so why let his pesky little brother’s taunts bother you?
“I just have to know though.” She spun to face me, twirling a curl around her finger. “Has he tasted you yet?”
My cheeks warmed. “Excuse me?”
She giggled, although her smile did not reach her eyes. “Oh, not that! I meant your blood. Is that a weird question to ask a human? I don’t usually hang around your kind, I guess.”
I frowned. Even with Vesper, who rarely, if ever, minced her words, I had never broached this particular subject.
“I’ll take that as a no,” said the vampiress. “I completely understand though. It’s not something you would do with just anyone.”
I had the distinct feeling that I was being toyed with. “King Mordric isn’t just anyone to me.”
“Of course not. My mistake. If you’ll excuse me.” She exited as quickly as she had entered.
I caught sight of myself in the mirror, my reflection blinking back at me, my expression utterly bewildered. That must have pleased her. I cursed under my breath before slinking into the corridor.
The rest of the evening passed without incident, apart from a vampire and a human drunkenly challenging each other to a duel.
Something about an alleged affair between the vampire and the human’s wife, I was told later.
The nobility were seemingly used to this kind of brawl as the conversation barely stopped when swords were drawn.
That is, until the Captain of the Royal Guard broke it up and escorted the pair to their guest chambers.
I, meanwhile, kept my wards tight, refusing to allow the prince’s velvety voice to slip between the folds of my mind again.
The evening ended at daybreak, with attendees either piling into their elaborate carriages to return to their manors or stumbling into one of the many guest chambers throughout the palace.
I leaned against Mordric’s shoulder as he bade farewell to a gaggle of drunken revelers.
Vesper pulled me into a tight hug before taking her leave, making me promise to come visit her soon.
I sighed as Mordric wrapped his arms around me, more than ready to finally retire as the last carriage rattled away. “Shall we?” he asked.
I nodded. My feet were lifted off the ground as he carried me back to my bedchamber, tossing me lightly onto the bed. I sank into the down comforter as he removed my shoes, running his hand along the length of my leg.
“Did you have a good evening?” he asked, his fingers caressing my inner thigh.
“Yes,” I whispered, my breathing growing shallow as his hand crept slowly upwards.
“I’m happy to hear it.”
With a groan he pulled me roughly toward the edge of the bed, hiking my skirts above my hips before he nosed his way between my legs.
The silk sheets were cool beneath my skin, which was pink and warm from drink.
He slid his hand between my thighs, moving his thumb rhythmically against me as he explored me with his mouth.
I whimpered as pressure began to build feverishly inside me with every lash of his tongue.
I wrapped my legs around his neck, grinding against him.
It didn’t take long before I threw my head back and released a feral cry, pleasure rippling through my body. I tugged on his hair and he rose, bringing his mouth to mine. I ran my tongue along his bottom lip, tasting myself on him.
My hands fumbled at his waistline as I loosed the laces of his breeches, my fingers closing around him as I reached my hand beneath them. He moaned at my touch. It was my turn to tease him, I reasoned, running my hand along the length of him.
As I pumped my fist, bringing him closer and closer to release, his head fell back, his eyes closing. When neither of us could stand it any longer, I guided him into me.
He was hungry and unyielding as he rocked against me.
The seams of my bodice ripped shortly before he put his mouth to my breast, lulling a carnal moan out of me as he whipped his tongue against its hardened peak.
His movements became hurried as the bed rocked beneath us.
I cried out shortly before his entire body shuddered, surrendering to release.
He steadied, resting his forehead against mine.
A short while later I pulled myself reluctantly out of bed.
Making quick use of the washroom, I pulled on a flimsy black slip inlaid with lace.
It was nearly as beautiful as the silver gown that now lay at the foot of the bed.
I dove back beneath the sheets where Mordric lay waiting for me, and nestled into the crook of his arm.
The curtains were drawn, but light seeped in through the gap at the floor.
“Did you take your tonic?” he asked, gesturing at the sharp-edged vial sitting on my nightstand.
Dr. Murrows had instructed me on its use some weeks ago: a few drops of valerian root into the glass of water that had been left out for me, and I would fall into a dreamless sleep. I’d used it before bed ever since.
“No,” I said, burrowing into the sheets beside him. “Not yet.”
“I don’t want you to have nightmares,” he said, pulling me into his side.
“I’ll take it later,” I replied, running my hand absentmindedly along his taut chest. “I had an interesting conversation with Lady Genevieve tonight.”
“Lady Genevieve,” he said thoughtfully. “The one who’s been trailing after Enhart?”
I suppressed a grin. “Yes.”
“What was your conversation about?”
“She was asking me about you,” I began.
“That’s nice.”
“And telling me about something that vampires … do together.”
He shifted, propping his head up with a muscled arm. “And what, pray tell, did she tell you exactly?”
“She implied that blood is considered, erm, an act of intimacy between vampires.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched.