Page 67 of Imprisoned with the Vampire King

I wanted to avoid syrup drips on my map, so I stole the fork the next time he acted like he was going to force-feed me.

I worked on the map.

He made me eat until the plate was empty.

I eventually stood up, stepped back, and took in the map.

It was missing things. So many things.

But it was a good start.

I finally nodded, and looked at Dante.

He was studying it, too, but he was still sitting on the floor. The empty plate of pancakes was at his side and his legs were sprawled out in front of him.

His locs were still up in their bun, I noticed. I liked the look a lot, especially with his button-up shirt.

The sweats were still better, though.

"I know it's missing things. I'll figure it out after I sleep," I said, crossing the room and sitting down on his lap. "Bite me."

His hand immediately went to my lower back. "You need to sleep before⁠—"

I grabbed the back of his head and dragged his face to my throat. He inhaled deeply, and a guttural groan escaped him.

My body flushed in response.

Maybe he liked how I smelled, even if my blood's taste wasn't top tier.

His fangs sank in, and I took an unsteady breath, digging my fingers into his shoulder and the back of his neck. He pulled me closer, dragging me against his erection a little harder, and any desire I had to leave distance between us had officially shattered.

I had his belt undone in a clumsy heartbeat. His zipper followed while he tugged my overalls down my hips, lifting me long enough to push them down my thighs—and rolling me to my back so he could tear them away.

He released my throat, dragging his tongue over the wounds, and worked his way down to my belly button.

And lower.

His eyes met mine, blazing, and I nodded.

My bright red boyshorts met the same fate as my overalls, tossed aside as he lowered his face to my core, and licked me.

A loud cry of pleasure burst through my lungs.

I hooked a leg over his shoulder. He lifted the other one to join it while he devoured me the way he had in the prison, but better.

So much better, because we weren't trapped, and because every time his fangs nicked me—and they nicked me so fucking often—it sent a bolt of fiery pleasure blazing through me.

I came.

And came again before I was yanking on his hair, wrecking his bun as I pulled him closer.

"I want your knot," I breathed.

"We don't have time," he growled back.

"I thought you were the king."

"I am."