Chapter 30
Laurent stood behind Lily, mesmerized as her fingers tapped along the piano keys. The others had slowed their activities. Even the card game had temporarily stalled. They listened. Vampires loved music as they loved all fine arts.
Her music was a deep inhale, something that breathed life into everything it touched.
It was a selfish thing, to want her playing for himself alone.
To wish it was just the two of them. But this was his family, so he could share, if only for that reason.
After a few minutes, the others returned to their activities.
Even Kian’s frown disappeared. He hadn’t warmed to her the way the others had, still frustrated over Henrietta’s death.
Laurent didn’t feel a morsel of guilt. Why should he?
His fingertips brushed Lily’s shoulder before he could stop himself, a simple caress.
Her playing faltered, just a note, then continued.
He wanted to rub his hands over every inch of her, touch and taste her.
Remove that frustrating dress shielding her neck from him.
She’d done it on purpose. He hadn’t missed the smug tilt of her lips. He’d have the damn thing in shreds by the end of the night if he had any say in the matter.
Earlier that afternoon, he’d found a recipe on the internet for snickerdoodle cookies.
Much simpler than anything he’d made thus far.
But considering the time, he wanted something quick.
He’d snuck into the kitchen while Vittorio prepared dinner, relieved that Lily hadn’t been in attendance, and mixed up the dough.
All that was left was to slide the sheets into the oven.
When Lily finished at the piano, he said, “It’s late, perhaps you’d like to retire for the evening?”
Her eyes flared with his unspoken meaning. “Okay.”
Cinnamon snoozed by the fireplace. She scooped up the dog and said goodnight to everyone. Out in the hall he said, “Why don’t you go upstairs and get Cinna ready for bed? I’ll be along in a bit.”
“Okay,” she said again, eyeing him with curiosity.
“And don’t change out of that dress,” he added.
A flush crept across her cheeks. He loved that he could make her react like that.
Once she disappeared from sight, he rushed to the kitchen and set to work. Twenty minutes later, he knocked at her door. Her pulse was erratic, but not because she feared him. Not anymore. Somehow this had worked, his effort to win her over. The gradual transition had crept up on him.
He inhaled, unnecessary but grounding.
Lily opened the door wide enough to reveal her body. She leaned against the door frame, one arm extended along the door. He took in her sultry curves, fitted perfectly into that dress.”Snickerdoodle cookies?” she said, studying the tray.
“Cost of entry?”
She hummed, her hand shooting out to snatch one. He growled, which went ignored. She took a bite and let out a soft moan. “Payment accepted,” she decided, opening her beautiful blue eyes and pinning him with her smile. “On one condition.”
“And what might that be?” Everything in him tightened with anticipation.
“You’re not leaving this room without giving me what I want. Everything I want.”
He knew what she implied—where this was going. Despite what they’d discussed last night. So much for taking things slow.
And because he could deny her nothing, he said, “Very well. I accept your condition.”
“Good. That’s...good.” She stepped back.
He strode into the room and deposited the tray, noting Cinna sleeping in her crate. Lily stood in the middle of the room, finishing off the cookie. He went to her, capturing what remained and using her hand to guide the last bite into his mouth. She huffed, watching him with heated eyes.
“Mmm.” He pulled her closer as he chewed, until the press of her was everywhere.
Cinnamon sugar coated her fingers. He grabbed her hand, licking her fingers clean.
Her breath caught, pupils blowing wide. He gently bit the pad of her finger and she gasped.
“So delicious. I could gobble you up. Speaking of which…” He dropped her hand, eyeing the collar of her dress. “Do you delight in vexing me?”
She gave him a coy smile. “You like?”
“Very much—so much that I want to peel it off and discover the treasure beneath.”
“Oh.” Her lips parted.
He did not waste another moment. He reached for her, cupping the back of her head as he brought their mouths together. The taste of cookies lingered on her tongue, mixing with the taste of her. He groaned, devouring her, kissing her the way he wanted to fuck her, thoroughly and relentlessly.
Her hands traveled over his chest, across his shoulders, to finally tangle in his hair. The feel of her touch was divine. He couldn’t wait to have her hands on his bare skin—everywhere.
He nipped at her bottom lip, then pulled back, eager to see the glazed look in her eyes.
Eager to see his effect on her. She was dazed, lips swollen, breaths labored.
If he didn’t stop now, he’d have her against the wall, his cock buried so deep she’d never forget the feel of him. In fact, that wasn’t a bad idea—
He dropped his arms and took a giant step back.
“What…?” She blinked, her confusion evident.
“Let’s not get carried away,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Cookies are best enjoyed right out of the oven.”
“I already had one.” Her tone was petulant.
“Hot chocolate is also meant to be consumed hot.”
Her breaths slowed. Fuck. He was ready to strip that dress off now. Ready to—
“Come.” He held out his hand. This was a ritual now, and he was determined to see it through each and every night. A small price to pay for his fuck-up.
“Fine.” She slipped her hand into his, letting him lead her to the sofa.
He pulled her onto his lap, then reached for her mug, ignoring his completely.
He took a sip, sighing before he handed it over.
It was a test of his self control, waiting for her to drink her fill.
His hands roved over every part of her, relishing in the firm feel of her stomach, muscles honed from years of swimming, to the softness around her hips.
He cupped her bare ankle, then slid his hand along her calf, enjoying the feel of her skin.
“Aren’t you going to have a cookie?” she asked.
“The only thing I want on my tongue tonight is you,” he murmured against her ear. “As soon as you finish that, I’m going to strip you out of this dress and devour you, starting with your cunt and ending with your blood—if you’ll allow me that.”
A small whimper left her mouth. Everything in him heated. He kissed her ear. “Finish your hot chocolate, Lily. Don’t keep me waiting.”
A sigh fell from her lips and she seemed to come back to herself.
She lifted the mug and sipped. He ran his hand up and down her bare calf, keeping the other gripped on her hip.
The feel of her ass on his lap was almost too much.
Every minute movement created friction against his cock.
It was all he could do to keep from taking her hips and grinding her against him.
He’d stopped questioning it, this unexplainable need for her.
That she turned him into a mess of desire when no one had for centuries.
He wanted to argue it was her blood, nothing more.
But even now, with no taste of iron on his tongue, she consumed him completely.
This wasn’t about blood anymore—hadn’t been for some time.
Lily set the mug against her thigh. “I’m done. Any more and I’ll have a tummy ache.”
“We cannot have that.” He set the mug on the tray, keeping a tight hold on her. “Kiss me, little flower. I want to feel your mouth.”
Her eyes flared. She turned and pressed their lips together. Something hotter than lust slipped beneath his skin. Something more lasting. He didn’t allow himself to think about it, or what it meant.
He let her lead. Her movements were slow, thoughtful.
Perhaps even a little shy—which he found endearing.
Her tongue darted out, licking along the seam of his lips.
He groaned, blood rushing straight to his cock as she pressed into his mouth.
His breaths came faster, because he was breathing unnecessarily, dragging in the scent of her with each inhale.
She licked at him, running her tongue along his teeth.
His control began slipping.
When his fangs elongated, she licked and explored them. Her sensitive treatment of them pulled a deep, desperate sound from his throat. He tasted her blood when she clipped her tongue on the point of one.
He surged upward, lifting her to her feet, pressing her backwards, nearly stumbling toward the bed. “Remember what I said, little flower. Remember your control, because I’m going to fucking devour you, and that’s the only thing that will bring an end to it.”
Her panting was his only answer.
He took the hem of her dress and dragged it up her body.
The sight of her black lacy panties and bra, all her beautiful skin, made his muscles weak.
He dropped to his knees before her. She gasped, reaching for his head, twisting her fingers into his hair.
“Yes,” he breathed when she tugged. The feel of it, her fingertips scraping against his scalp, had him pressing his face into her bare skin, groaning.
She shivered in his hold. “Are you cold?”
“No. Just…nervous, I think.”
“You want me to stop?” He looked up along the length of her, between the beautiful planes of her breasts.
There was unfettered desire in her blue gaze. She wanted him. “Don’t stop,” she breathed.
He hesitated only a moment longer, then peppered her skin with kisses, luxuriating in the softness beneath his lips. He hooked his fingers into her panties, sliding them down. The mark was there, the sight constricting his throat. He swallowed against the ache.