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A loud moan penetrates the air, and I look over to one of the Saint Andrew crosses to find Garren, one of my vampire regulars, with his flavor of the night. She’s spread eagle on the cross, her naked body on full display as he strikes her breasts and sex with the leather riding crop in his hand. He doesn’t pause his strikes as he shifts his gaze to me, sensing my stare. He licks his lip and motions toward the blond woman spread out for him like a meal.
I shake my head, uninterested. The only woman getting my dick up is safe in her bed, locked in her tower. A dark smirk spreads on his lips as he shrugs just before striking her wet sex with a rough crack. The woman screams before he silences her with a ball gag in her mouth. The crowd watches in utter fascination as he shoves his pants down to his knees and takes her, hard and without mercy.
Arousal floods the air around me, but my dick doesn’t even stir.
The witch has too much control over me.
I haven’t even tasted her blood, and yet the thought of drinking someone else’s makes me cringe.
With a low growl, I rise from my chair, abandoning my glass of whiskey, and leave as fast as I came. There’s only one woman I want to watch come undone, and she isn’t here. Maybe I will take her tonight. Fill her pussy with my cock, pound into her without mercy until she’s begging me to stop. None of us have fucked her yet, and my brothers know they aren’t allowed first dibs.
It doesn’t take long to reach the mansion. There’s barely anyone on the roads this time of night, and traffic speeds have always been more of a guideline than anything else to those like me. The house is silent, nothing stirring. Not even Weylen or Asher. Vampires don’t sleep much, but it doesn’t mean we don’t take advantage of it when we can. I stalk through the dark house and up to the tower, taking three to four steps at a time.
I ease her bedroom door open, silent and smooth, so I don’t disturb her. Lavender and sea salt rush from the room, assaulting my senses. My eyes land on her sleeping form. She looks restful, but I can hear the rapid rhythm of her heart and the rush of her breaths. I idly wonder if she’s having another nightmare, but then I smell it.
Her arousal.
So my little lamb is having a sex dream.
Interesting.
I can feel my fangs elongating as the scent grows stronger and a small moan fades from her lips like a whisper, a secret only the night air can hear. Clenching my jaw, I shed my clothes until I’m left in nothing but my briefs and carefully lay them over one of the chairs in the corner of her room. Silent as a panther, I climb onto the bed and lean over her, drawn to the lush scent between her thighs. My cock stirs, my blood heating as her arousal thickens.
Darting my tongue out, I taste her, allowing the tip of my tongue to catch a glimmer of the aphrodisiac. Satisfaction rumbles through me when I hear her utter my name and then my brothers’. Our little lamb wants us.
There’s an old saying about catching more flies with honey than vinegar. I think back on my sister’s advice. That Thalia’s abilities might not have manifested because she lacked the one thing needed to bring it to the surface.
Love.
Without disturbing her, I slide under the covers next to her. She shifts slightly, as if sensing my body, and curls into the crook of my arm, her hand resting on my chest. I wrap my arm around her, ignoring my throbbing cock.
I’m not capable of loving a woman. Not in the way Thalia needs, but that doesn’t mean she has to know that. If love is what she needs to feel in order for us to get our revenge, then love is what we will give her.
Even if it’s all pretend.
We will have our revenge.
No matter what I have to do to ensure it.
Even if it means sacrificing our little lamb.
Chapter 24
Thalia
The air is cold, the icy greed of winter slipping in through the cracks in the windowsill. Despite that, however, I’m warm as I wake. As consciousness comes back to me, I feel something heavy around my middle. I freeze, my eyes snapping open as the scent of whiskey and bergamot fills my senses.
Swallowing back the lump that has risen in my throat, I attempt to keep my breath even and my heart from rocketing to space. There’s a large hand cast over my exposed midriff, rough fingers splayed across my skin possessively.
Drystan is lying on his stomach, his face turned toward me. His eyes are closed, but it’s the shallow movement of his back that tells me he’s still asleep. My heart stutters for a moment at the sight of him so at ease and vulnerable.
The leader of the Kings doesn’t look like the intimidating and brooding vampire I’ve come to know. He looks…soft. He’s shirtless, and a blush rises to my cheeks at the thought of him being naked beneath the comforter. I fight the urge to trace the hard lines of his back and face as I gaze at him. He looks peaceful. Rested.
Why did he come back?
His hurtful words from last night slam back into me, causing my eyelids to shutter as anger and humiliation burn through me like a volatile matchstick. But still, even with the anger coursing through me, there’s something soft beneath it. Something that draws me to the three Kings like a moth to the flame. I shouldn’t want him so badly, but I do, more than I want to admit.
Since I’m trapped beneath Drystan’s embrace, I take the time to study him further. Or, more aptly, the ink that wraps around his body. The ink is old and has started to fade. This is the first time I’ve seen him without his clothes on. Even in his office, he merely lowered his zipper. I’ve never once seen an inch of skin below any of the Kings’ clothing.
