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Zephyra settles back and rests her hands in her lap.

A young female vamp with dark hair appears from the shadows. She’s holding what looks like a bundle of folded clothes. “Here,” she says, inclining her head hungrily as she looks at me. “Mistress asks that you change into these before your meal.”

I take them from her.

Zephyra watches me.

I strip slowly, holding her gaze while I reveal my body to her. Relishing in the fact that I know she wants me and that I’m never going to let her have me again. Never going to let her use me again.

When I pull down pants, she waves her finger at my boxers. “Those too,” she says. Then she glances at the girl. “You do it, Cherry.”

Cherry blinks at Zephyra, then grins. She nods and scurries over to me.

“You know,” she whispers as she bends in front of me and peels down my boxers. “I was a virgin when I was turned.”

I glower down at her. “Is that so?”

She nods, licking her lower lip, face and lips so close to my cock that they should be making me hard except they won’t because she’s not Nova.

And ever since I met Nova, she has been the only woman who can do that to me.

“Do you know what that means?” She stands up. Her hands are hanging down between us. She wants to touch me, but she won’t unless Zephyra tells her to.

If she does, I will rip her arms from their sockets.

“It means I will always be a virgin. Again, and again, I’ll lose my virginity. Because it grows back.” She flutters her eyelashes at me. “Every time.”

“You may play with him if you like.” Zephyra drawls from her throne.

“Touch me, and I'll kill you.” I meet Cherry’s eyes, but she giggles as if it’s a joke.

She reaches for me.

Before her hands make contact with my cock, I grab her, spin her around and, while she is staring at Zephyra, I snap her neck.

She crumples to the floor.

It’s not easy to kill a vampire this way, but I’ve done it before.

There’s a knack to it.

I step over her body and march up to the throne, then I make a show of putting on the clothes she gave me. A suit.

A fucking suit.

No shirt.

Zephyra is practically salivating.

I should have known my display of strength would drive her crazy rather than make her mad or upset. She rubs her hands together and laughs loudly. “I never liked her. Stupid choice. A virgin freshman.”

I stretch out my arms, examining how far the jacket sleeves come to my wrists.

Zephyra stands and skims her pale ice-cold hands over the tattoos on my chest. “New ones,” she says, almost purring. “Beautiful. So very beautiful.”

I grab her wrist and hold her still.

She is breathing heavily. She leans in toward me. “Fuck me,” she says, emphasizing the harshness of the word fuck. “Like you used to, Ink Heart.”