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He smirked. “Yes. Keep saying my name.”
And that was the music that filled his room as he plunged his fingers inside her, thrust to a beat they both knew, and brought her to her climax, too.
It became harder for Nate to stay away from Winter after that night of torrid touching and feeding, so his retaliation was to avoid her even more than he already did. What was difficult once became unbearable, his hunger egging him on and craving her taste day in and day out. Then there was his body, longing for what didn’t happen that night, wishing he could just damn it all to hell, climb in her bed, and screw her until her brains were fried and his name was the only word she could utter.
But responsibilities couldn’t take a back seat, and his days became preoccupied with meetings, sneaking, and making sure that House Chatterley was compensated and the identified assailants paid for their crimes. Nights were then spent monitoring the listed houses and Stephanie, who was being smarter and bringing escorts with her wherever she went. Then it was the winter party, and for the first time, he didn’t have to make an appearance as Nicholas was prompt for his favorite season.
“I didn’t see you all week, Nate. I’m assuming it has a lot to do with that scenario I walked into before. Are you keeping it in your private quarters now?”
Anyone else’s teasing, like Matthew’s, would have been in good jest, but something in Nicholas’s tone set warning triggers in Nate’s brain. Still, he was calm when he answered.
“Yes. It’s not a scenario meant for others to see.”
“I didn’t mind seeing. Or watching.” Slyness wrapped around Nicholas’s voice along with smugness. “It was quite an entertaining sight.”
“It wasn’t for you to see.”
“I don’t blame you. I didn’t think she was anything special until that moment. It must be very addictive blood. She must be a fantastic lay, too. I wouldn’t mind testing it out for myself when you are done with her. You know, drink all that blood and that tight ass and puss—”
Before he knew it, a hand was on Nicholas’s arm and digging deep. Nicholas glanced down, a smirk forming on his lips before noting Nate’s face. It couldn’t be helped, not when the very idea of this man doing things to Winter sent a rage forming in his soul.
“I’m not done with her. I’m never going to be done with her.”
It was meant as a warning to turn the man off completely, but the hint of truth slapped him hard and had him freezing. Nicholas took note of this, too, but Nate yanked the rest of his emotions in until he could let go of his brother. Casually, Nicholas dusted his fur sleeve off and shrugged.
“You say that now until you had your fill. Either way, I’m glad to see you happy.”
The mocking tone rang in his ears before the man left and grinned his way through the rest of the crowd, who didn’t hesitate to shower his all-white attire with praises. The crown prince basked in the attention, a man who could do no wrong in most unaware eyes. When another person walked in dressed in all-black, Nate grinned, watching the spectacle of his sister sashaying toward Nicholas.
“Black isn’t part of the theme. The theme is white, silver, and gray tones. Light tones,” Irma Galloway berated, eyeing her with a frown and clinging to Nicholas’s arm.
Opposite the woman, Nicola smiled, framed by a backdrop of fake falling snow and trees packed with even more powdery white.
“Is there a reason for black not being part of the theme?”
Irma blinked, taken aback. “It just doesn’t look good.”
“Oh, I get it now. White and all those light tones look good, huh?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Especially since it hides all darkness lurking underneath all our little souls.” With a smirk, Nicola patted the woman’s shoulder, emphasizing her all-white outfit matching the crown prince’s and what she meant. Irma frowned, anger careening. Nicola raised a brow, challenging a response.
Before things could take a turn, Nate inserted himself into the group, swooping in to excuse Nicola at the pretense of needing her to see a very nice Christmas-themed tree. That included removing Irma from trying to cling to his arm, too, and ignoring his brother’s frown as they walked away. When they were out of earshot, he lightly elbowed his sister.
“And here I thought you would be singing praises to our brother when you arrived, not offending his friends.”
“His friends are jerks,” she replied with a shrug. They stood before the Christmas-themed tree, a human tradition in their library’s record books but one Ostrov Krov didn’t practice—unless there was a winter party. “He is, too.”
Something in her tone sent him on alert. “What did he do?”
“Invited my maid and I to a party where I didn’t know humans would be the main snack. His asshole friends got insulted when I refused to hand her over.” But a smile played on her lips, coy and mischievous. “Naturally, I had to do something.”
“What did you do?”
“Oh, nothing much.” Her smile turned into a smirk. “Just a few altered drinks here and there, so partying would be the last thing on their minds. I took their human guests, too, and got my maid to make them free dinner—better than any of their lousy parties.”
Pride shifted in his chest. He tilted his head. “I take it you are not a fan of blood hunts?”
