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Asher
Her heart is racing like a stampede of wild bulls. I can hear it clear as day. The steady thumping rhythm makes my cock harden in my trousers. I run one hand over the practically invisible silver scar tissue created by Weylen just hours ago. To the human eye, they are nearly undetectable, but vampires can see them unfailingly.
Weylen’s scent is intrinsically mixed with hers. Just thinking of him taking her on the dining room table has me nearly releasing like some untried human teenager. A growl rumbles in my chest as I grip her head and neck tighter, my fangs elongating with anticipation.
“Weylen says your blood is like smooth whiskey,” I murmur against her skin. Thalia’s arousal rolls off her in gentle waves, an intoxicating perfume that has the monster inside me salivating.
Without preamble, I sink my fangs into her neck on the opposite side of my comrade’s. Her hands push at my chest before fisting in my shirt. Rich, coppery seduction teases my tongue, and I retract my fangs. My lips remain sealed over the bite, and I drink deeply, unable to keep the satisfied groan to myself.
Thalia lets out a small whimper, her body going limp in my grasp. I hold her tightly to me, as if she is the last life raft on the boat to hell. Releasing her neck, I splay my hand on her lower back, pushing her softness into my hardened member. I feel her tense beneath me as my arousal presses against her soft core, and I grind against her, eager to one day sink my cock into her wet pussy as well as my fangs.
Reluctantly, I pull away, no longer suckling at her neck. I lap at the puncture wounds with my tongue to promote her healing, as well as clean her neck of any blood that might tempt our men tonight.
My brothers and I will be the only ones to ever drink from her.
“You taste like fine wine,” I tell her as I pull away, completely sated. Her eyes are glazed with pleasure, the scent of her arousal hanging in the air around us. Her violet eyes find mine, and damn, I’m tempted to give in to the seductive look. The one that begs me to sink my cock deep into her wet cunt.
But I won’t. Not yet. When I take her, it will be with my brothers, and she will be begging for us. I pull my hips away from hers, watching as the desire slowly fades, and she’s left wondering.
I fix her robe, pulling it closed and tying off the sash. Tonight, we are making a point, but that doesn’t mean they need to see any more of her than necessary.
“Come.” I take her hand in mine. “Drystan wants to see you.”
Gently, I lead her from the room, aware that she may be weak from being fed on. It has been a long time since we’ve had a human in our care. Even if there is more to our little lamb than meets the eye, she is still mortal. Breakable.
She’s a curious thing. I watch with interest as she takes in her surroundings while I lead her deeper into the house toward Drystan’s office. It is likely farther than she has managed to explore, and I don’t miss the way her eyes light up at the paintings adorning the hallway that leads toward our destination.
Every painting in this house has been specially curated for us. Most of them we have collected ourselves over the years directly from the source. We have everything from neoclassicism to impressionism. Abstract art done by Picasso himself as he was sitting in our foyer and romanticism done by Francisco Goya after he partook in one too many bottles of wine on our trip to Spain in the late 1700s.
Thalia’s muscles tense when I open the door to the office. Drystan is sitting behind his desk, while Weylen is in a dark wingback chair to his right. A few of our men are seated across from Drystan, their eyes turning to us as we enter. I lay a reassuring hand on Thalia’s lower back when a small tendril of fear wafts through the air.
We won’t let them touch her.
Drystan’s eyes hungrily watch our little lamb as I take my own seat on his left, dragging Thalia onto my lap. She shifts uncomfortably for a moment, her hands clasping the edge of the robe to keep it from sliding open.
She glances over at Weylen, who smiles almost imperceptibly. A blush of heat spreads up her neck. Is she remembering how Weylen made her come on the dining room table? I place my hand possessively on her inner thigh, the thought of bringing her to orgasm on my tongue right here for everyone to witness causing my cock to stir in my pants.
I won’t have to wait much longer for that.
And when it comes, I’ll have her begging me for more.
Chapter 16
Thalia
Isit perched on Asher’s lap, listening intently as the three Kings talk business with the men in the room. Except, they’re not just men; they’re vampires, just like them. They are nothing like the boozy and crass humans that graced their dining table the night before, and I recognize none of their faces.
I’m acutely aware of Asher’s hand on my inner thigh, his thumb making lazy circles on the sensitive skin. No doubt everyone in the room can smell my heightening arousal, and the thought has heat creeping up my neck.
“We’ve managed to lock down all the warehouses,” one of the vampires states. He’s a beast of a man, with long black hair and startling hazel eyes. He towers over his compatriots, making them look like nothing but boys.
What are they feeding these vampires?
Ogres?
“Good,” Drystan commends them, his dark gaze turning toward Asher and me. I resist the urge to straighten myself. Instead, I lean farther into Asher, allowing my body to relax against his. There’s a flash of hunger in Drystan’s eyes when his penetrating stare lands on the place on my neck where Asher recently bit me. We’re close enough for him to reach out and run his fingers along the sensitive patch of skin.
Goose bumps erupt at his touch, and shivers of pleasure skate down my body. Until this moment, Drystan’s only interaction with me has been that of a brooding host or a diligent taskmaster, meting out my punishment. If it wasn’t for the other vampires in the room, this moment would feel intimate.
