Chapter 28
Laurent swept into my room, a tray in hand. Part of me had wondered if he’d stop this ritual now that we’d kissed at the cove, now that everything between us had shifted. But here he was. Tonight, there were two mugs of hot chocolate.
I closed the door to Cinna’s crate and made myself comfortable on the couch, instantly shy but trying to hide it.
After returning from the beach, most of my mind had been occupied with thoughts him.
His kiss was seared into my memory. I reached up and brushed my fingers across my lips. They’d been swollen for hours.
I caught Laurent’s gaze. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Hope you don’t mind an old favorite,” he said, handing me a plate with a cinnamon roll.
“Never,” I breathed, all but snatching it from him.
I ignored the fork, lifting the roll to my mouth and taking a bite, getting sticky frosting everywhere. It was warm and gooey and delicious. I groaned.
Laurent watched, unblinking, as I devoured the whole thing. I was beginning to like his undivided attention. I began licking my fingers clean. His pupils blew wide. Did he enjoy the way my tongue felt against his skin whenever I fed from his wrist?
The stray thought made my toes curl. The craving hit me then—not just for his touch, but for the taste of iron and spice that had become my obsession. I pushed the thought away, but my mouth watered anyway.
“What’s that look for?” His voice was soft.
My cheeks flushed. “Uhm. Nothing?”
He hummed. “You’ve got—“
I froze as he leaned toward me. His tongue darted out. My breath caught as he licked the tip of my nose, cleaning away frosting.
“Oh.” My body tightened everywhere.
He pulled away, gazing into my eyes. “Delicious.”
I couldn’t breathe.
He sat back looking relaxed—the opposite of how I felt—as if that hadn’t just happened. But it had. He’d licked my face. My freaking face. Licked it.
I clumsily reached for my hot chocolate, gulping it down. He picked up the other plate and used his fork, eating his cinnamon roll far more elegantly than me.
“Will you tell me more about the vampire season?”
“All right.” He set his empty plate on the tray, took a quick sip of hot chocolate, then leaned back. I tucked my feet beneath me, angling myself to face him.
“The vampire season is an age old tradition. An opportunity for the heads of our great houses to gather. Italy is where it all began, where we first came to be, so that is where we return. More than that, Italy is a vibrant place, culturally rich, filled with history. We vampires like such things, no? Beautiful, precious things.”
The way he said those last words made it clear he was no longer talking about Italy. His hungry gaze traced my face, eyes dipping to my lips before settling on my throat. For a moment, he looked every bit the vampire. Then he blinked and met my eyes again.
“Every year, our kind converges on the city, each house in attendance.” He continued speaking, painting a vibrant picture of vampire aristocracy, wealth, and power.
Days spent strengthening old friendships, promenading down city streets, enjoying all the city had to offer.
Nights spent indulging in parties, balls, and other more questionable activities.
All the while, plotting behind closed doors, forging new alliances, and strategizing against enemies.
“It sounds like a competition,” I said, setting my empty mug on the tray.
“It is. And this year, I plan to win.”
“Oh? How do you suppose that?”
“I’ve got a few ideas. You, little flower, will be my crown jewel.
” My lips parted. “Come here.” He reached for me, pulling me onto his lap until I straddled his thighs.
Shivers raced across my skin. Beneath the thin fabric of my leggings, I could feel him hardening against me.
That alone contradicted so much of what he’d claimed.
It also made me bold, giving me a boost of confidence.
I placed my hands on his chest, leaning in to nip at his lips.
He hummed, holding still. I did it again, then smiled.
He was letting me lead, and leading felt like the most indulgent treat.
I went in for the kill, kissing him in earnest. I pressed my tongue against his mouth and relished in the way he opened for me.
I stroked and licked, exploring his mouth.
His fangs began to grow, making me hungrier.
“Lily,” he warned, his voice rumbling. His hand squeezed the back of my neck, holding me in place. “You’re not making this easy for me.”
“I’m not?” I innocently tilted my head, then rolled my hips, pressing myself more firmly against his hard length. This time he growled. “You told me to come to you for my pleasure. I distinctly remember you being very...insistent about it.”
It had only been earlier that day, after all.
He huffed. “Yes, but—“
“But, what?”
“I had intended to take things slowly. I… I made a grave mistake that hurt you deeply.”
“You did…”
“So, how can you desire sex with me? To make yourself vulnerable in such a way?” His jaw ticked. I caught the flash of something raw in his eyes—want warring with guilt. “It’s only my blood making you like this. I… We will take this slow.”
“Fine, but there are other things to enjoy before jumping straight into sex.”
A wicked grin accompanied a rumbling chuckle. “You think to school me in the ways of pleasure, little flower?”
“Well, if you’re going to be stupid about it.”
“You naughty little siren.” His grip on me tightened, holding me in place while his free hand slipped between us, between my legs.
I gasped as his thumb pressed firmly against my clit.
“You want to play? Let’s play,” he said, moving his thumb in teasing circles.
He watched me. Watched in a way that built me up, making me feel bold and beautiful.
“I want to hear those sweet little sounds you make when you’re coming. ”
My core turned molten. I rocked my hips, dragging my center against him, against the delicious ridge in his pants. It wasn’t enough—this wasn’t—I needed—
“More,” I demanded. “If you’re responsible for my pleasure, then do your job.”
He barked a surprised laugh. “I do love when you boss me about. All right. Up.” He took my hips and lifted me off him, then reached for my leggings. His fingers hesitated briefly, waiting for me to stop him. I didn’t, and he slowly slid them down.
My lower lip caught between my teeth.
He stared at me, eyes fixed not at the curls just visible between my thighs, but at the witch brand.
Heat flooded my cheeks—not the good kind from desire, but the burning shame of being marked, branded like cattle.
The ugly reminder of what I’d endured because of him.
I almost reached for the waistband of my leggings.
Almost succumbed to the urge to cover myself.
“Lily,” he rasped.
“What?” I whispered.
“When you get embarrassed, your scent changes.” He glanced up at me, holding my gaze. “It turns…murky. Please, you have nothing to be embarrassed of. This was my failing, not yours.” As if he couldn’t help it, his eyes returned to the mark, glaring at it offensively.
“I forgot to shave,” I blurted, reaching for the first random thought.
He blinked, seeming to come back to himself. “I don’t care. Come here.” He pulled me onto his lap. It was a vulnerable position. He was clothed but I was naked from the waist down.
None of that mattered the second his hand slipped between my legs.
He found my slick folds and groaned. The sound made my belly swoop.
“Astonishing, little flower. You are dripping for me.” The rough edge of his words made me shiver, which turned to trembling as he stroked his fingers along my slit.
He massaged and teased. He split me wide, but didn’t enter.
A complaint rose in my throat. I bucked my hips, searching for relief. He laughed, his voice low and rasping, but held me in place with one arm banded around my waist, his face buried in my neck.
Was he going to bite me? The thrill of not knowing heightened everything.
I lowered my head until my nose pressed into the silky strands of his moonlight hair. Was I allowed to touch him? His hair was braided down the back of his head. I sank my fingers into it and groaned. It was so soft.
His fingers dipped into my opening, first one, then two. My lips parted as he filled me, stretching me in the most delicious way. I rocked my hips, feeling the press of him everywhere. The room blurred as his warm palm pressed against my clit, grinding circles over it.
“Oh, God,” I breathed.
“Good—yes?”
“Yes!” I cried, each breath coming faster. “Yes.”
“Good. Ride my hand. Take your pleasure.”
I did exactly that. My hips bucked, turning wild. He made a hungry sound, then began sucking on the skin around my pulse. I was overly aware of his lips, caught up in every sensation.
Tingles built at the base of my spine.
Laurent scissored his fingers in and out, putting the perfect pressure against my inner walls. Little sounds escaped my lips. I didn’t care. I chased my pleasure, letting him bring me to the brink. He growled every time I responded to something I liked.
“Why are you holding back?” he demanded, scowling.
“I don’t… I… I…”
I never wanted this to end. I tried to keep the pressure from exploding—tried to fight it. I wanted this to last forever.
But my body betrayed me.
“Give it to me,” he commanded. “Come for me.”
My core tightened, tingles shooting up my spine.
“That’s it, little flower,” he crooned. I detonated, riding his hand shamelessly. Stars burst across my vision. I twisted my fingers through the strands of his hair, gripping him hard.
“Perfect. Just like that.” His movements slowed as he guided me through each wave of pleasure. Each breath was a gasp. I found myself clinging to him as he slid his hand free, lifting his fingers to his lips, licking them clean. I could only stare.
“Almost the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“Laurie!” I hesitated. “What’s… What’s the best?”