“You made your point,” Felicity said. It was good that she’d worn another of Vincent’s trousers, as her crinoline would never have fit inside the passage. She strode forward with her chin held high and lifted her leg to enter. In the process of maneuvering through the ragged hole, something scratched her inner thigh. She winced at the pain but shoved herself through. The walls were as tight as she’d feared, but she focused on shuffling along the space until she reached what was clearly a spy hole. When she lifted the flap and peered through, the room on the other side was dimly lit, but she could make out a woman and a man, both of whom were naked.
She slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from gasping. She should have expected it, given the nature of the establishment, but it was still a shock to see a man’s flabby backside and a beautiful woman with breasts exposed and black hair loose around her shoulders. The man was on his knees on the bed behind the woman, driving his cock into her quim. The accompanying groaning and wet slap of bodies made something inside her wind tight. For a moment, she saw herself in place of the woman and Jonathan as the man.
She pinched her wrist to dispel the thought. She might have started out willing to become Jonathan’s mistress, but that had been before she’d known he was the enemy. When she completed her mission, their partnership would end with his death… unless she discovered a better use for him.
“Well?” Jonathan asked.
She forced her gaze away from the place where the two figures were joined and examined the woman. It took only a second to confirm. “Not her.”
Jonathan gestured for Felicity to continue.
She did so, sliding along the passage until she reached the next hole, which was much lower. This time, the sight that greeted her was even more shocking. Instead of one, there were three nude people, two women and a man. One woman was on her hands and knees with her lips wrapped around the man’s engorged cock. Her pale breasts swayed as she bobbed her head up and down. The other woman had her fangs buried in the man’s neck while he worked his fingers between her thighs. The proof of her enjoyment was evident in the translucent liquid coating his knuckles and the way she rocked her hips.
“Anything?” Jonathan whispered. He wrapped an arm around her waist.
Neither of the women was the one she was looking for, but she couldn’t tear her gaze from their exposed bodies. How wouldit feel to have Jonathan copy the movements of the man in the room? Something warm dripped down her leg.
“I smell blood,” Jonathan whispered.
“It’s nothing,” she said, even as her scratch burned. But as she moved her hand to steady herself, her fingers landed on Jonathan’s crotch. The moment she felt the stiffness beneath his trousers, she froze.
He was as aroused as she was.
“Move your hand,” he whispered.
“I—I apologize.” She whipped her arm up and whacked her elbow against the wall.
The noises coming from the other side of the wall quieted.
“What was that?” a woman inside the room asked.
Felicity froze.
There was a shuffling, a loud sniff, and then the woman spoke again. “I smell blood, and not from you, Mr. Gallaway.”
Felicity’s wound felt like it was on fire. She met Jonathan’s penetrating gaze and whispered, “I-I scraped my thigh.”
His irises swirled with blue. “Squeeze my shoulder if you want me to stop.”
Then he dropped to his knees and squirmed between her legs. He hardly made a sound, while she had to hold her breath to keep from screeching when his freezing fingers tugged her trousers down.
That was only the beginning, though, as the next thing she felt was his tongue sliding along her skin.
Her knees wobbled, and her heart pounded in her chest. He waslicking the bloodfrom her thigh. She pressed her hands against the wall and concentrated on remaining silent. It was tremendously difficult because each rasp of his tongue sent tingling sensations through her core. As he got closer to her quim, she almost wished her monthlies had started so that he’dhave a reason to put his mouth on the part of her that ached more fiercely than her scratch.
She squeezed her eyes shut. He was a vampire. She should not have longed for his touch. Yet she could not help imagining him gently spreading her nether lips apart and penetrating her with his long—
“You’re wasting time, Daliah,” Mr. Gallaway said. “Come back here and let me taste that fancy bit of yours.”
Jonathan restored her trousers to their previous state, wiped the blood from his cheek, then gestured at the peephole.
She obligingly checked, then had to choke back a squeak when a bare arse appeared in front of her. Thankfully, the woman possessing the impressive rear didn’t seem to hear and soon rejoined the vigorous activity that had resumed atop the bed.
When Felicity was confident that the trio was sufficiently distracted, she scurried along the corridor. Her abdomen still throbbed from Jonathan’s ministrations. Even the slight friction of corduroy between her legs made her shiver.
She reached the next set of holes and peered through, but the room was empty. She was about to move on, if only to create more distance between her and Jonathan, when she noticed something that made her blood go cold. Hanging on the walls were walking sticks, swords, and canes, including the one she remembered from the night of her parents’ murder. It was exactly the same, down to the chip in the golden dog’s ear.
“What is it?” Jonathan asked.
