27
VALEN
My little Princess is an accident waiting to happen. I worry about her getting so close to the fire—she’s flammable, especially her long, golden-brown hair—in a way I’m not. Of course, if we were Bonded, she’d get my immunity to flame but we’re not.
And we won’t ever be, I remind myself. The woman sitting in my lap is my enemy—she’s declared that she will be my Mistress, and she has power over me because she wears the ring and I wear the collar.
But she seems so fragile, sitting in my lap. So easy to wound. I can’t help remembering how I felt when I walked into the Common Room and saw that bastard trying to drag her away while nobody did a Goddess-damned thing to stop him. When I saw that—saw his filthy hands on her and the look of fear on her face—a bright flame of possession flared to life in my heart—a feeling that he was touching someone who is mine.
And somehow, I haven’t quite gotten over that feeling yet.
I can tell that being close like this is making Irena uneasy…but it’s also making her hot. The warm feminine scent of her desire tickles my nose—it’s even stronger than the sour scent of the shirt she’s wearing. Goddess—that thing has got to go.
“Hey, what are you doing?” she demands, as I start pulling it off her.
“Taking this off you—it fucking stinks,” I growl.
“But I’m cold!” she protests. But I don’t think that’s the only reason she wants to hold onto the shirt. When I peel it off her and toss it to one side, I can see her full breasts, barely contained by the thin material of her white shift. The tight points of her nipples poke at the fabric, making my cock surge.
“I’ll warm you up,” I tell her. I pull her closer and put my arms around her, surrounding her small, curvy body with my own. “There, isn’t that better?” I murmur in her ear.
I feel her shiver and I don’t think it’s because she’s cold anymore. Her sweet scent gets stronger—oh yes, she’s warming up all right and not just in the temperature sense.
Thinking of that makes my throat ache with thirst. Before I bit her the other night, I hadn’t had blood in almost a year. Because that fucking bastard, her brother, wasn’t about to send me a woman to drink from. That means my Drake is still depleted—I need to build him up again. Even summoning him enough to light the fire tonight was an effort. I need to be at peak strength before we enter Thornmere.
“You know, Princess, I’m getting awfully thirsty,” I tell her.
A little shiver runs through her and a touch of panic spikes the scent of her desire.
“Must you drink from me every night?” she asks in a small voice.
“Every night,” I assure her. “But it doesn’t have to hurt like it did last night—I was too thirsty to be careful with you. Tonight, I’ll make it easier…less painful,” I promise.
“It…it didn’t hurt that much.” She shifts in my lap and her soft, round bottom rubs against my aching cock. Gods, I love a woman with curves!
“Don’t try to be brave about it,” I tell her. “I know it’s painful when I bite you—I’ll try to make it easier tonight.”
“All right.” She straightens her spine and turns her head around to look at me. “Let’s get it over with then.”
“Oh, no, Princess,” I murmur. “Have you forgotten? First, I need to heat you up a little—cold blood is no good to me.”
“My blood isn’t cold!” she protests, wiggling in a most distracting way.
“You know what I mean. I’m not talking about the temperature of your blood—it’s your desire I need. You have to be hot before I drink from you.”
I pull the long, silky hair away from the side of her neck and allow my fangs to come out. I kiss the vulnerable skin just under her ear, letting her feel them prick her just a little.
She shivers and I smell the spike in her desire—oh yes, we’re getting there. But I don’t want to rush things…I like to savor this time before I bite. I want to drive her wild with need before I sink my fangs into her inner thigh.
“What…what are you doing?” she asks, when I slide my hands around to cup her full, heavy breasts. I love the way they fill my palms—love the fact that she’s got curves to spare.
“Just heating you up, Princess,” I tell her as I begin to tease her tight peaks with my thumbs.
Many males have the idea that you ought to just grab a woman’s nipples and start pulling or twisting, but that’s almost never what she wants. You need to take your time—tease her, caress her. Make her moan for you. And that’s exactly what I plan to do with my little Princess.
“You…you shouldn’t do that,” she pants, but she’s not trying to pull away. In fact, she arches her back, pushing her breasts further into my hands. I respond by tugging lightly on her tender tips. I pull the front of her shift down, baring her tits to the firelight.
“Oh!” she protests breathlessly. “Oh, you…you can’t!”
