And just like that, they went from slow and easy to hard and fast. She screamed her way through three moreorgasms before he finally came deep inside her, his hips jerking, hands gripping.
And, being the gentleman he is, there were soon baby wipes in his hands, cleaning her up before he lifted her, sat in the chair, and arranged her in his lap.
She rested her cheek against his shoulder, feeling the steady thrum of his contentment, the faint pulse of afterglow shared through the quiet intimacy they’d built. And the not-so-quiet.
“I wonder what the Renaissance scientists would think about our current understanding of genetics,” she mused.
He chuckled. “Some would argue with you, others would say they knew it all along. Idooften wonder about Da Vinci, whether he was actually precognizant, with limited access to a future he tried to make sense of.” He stood with her in his arms and settled her back into the chair.
“If you can put whole sentences together, it’s time for more wine.”
“Wine is never going to get me drunk. Besides, you’re smart enough to know you don’t have to seduce me to fuck me.”
“And yet, a little seduction never hurts. I value the time we spend together, and I figure that time should be as enriched as I can make it. I don’t eat food; you don’t drink blood. Wine, however, is something we have in common.”
He moved across the room, selected a bottle, and asked, “Sweet, or something with a bite?”
“Sweet, I think.”
He returned with an opened bottle, filled their glasses, and sat in front of her once again.
One topic led to another, and an hour later they were discussing genetic buffers and theoretical ways to get out of a bottleneck. Chase asked sharp questions, poked at her assumptions, and offered connections to medieval texts she hadn’t considered. She challenged him back, teasing out details from centuries-old debates on natural magic and philosophy.
Hours passed. The wine bottle emptied, then another. Eventually she stretched and sat up.
“I should head upstairs.”
“Probably. You daywalkers never last much past around two in the morning.” He stood to help her up. “You’re on my schedule again in four days, but you never stay as long on school nights.”
She grinned. “All the more reason to convince Spence to slot me in on the weekends.”
He gave a slow, lingering kiss, and walked her up the steps, since she wasn’t authorized to be in this part of the underground by herself. Most vampires fed from her in the feeding rooms, but Chase was different. Not with all of the flock, just the ones he wanted to spend time with.
Or, as he put it, the ones who didn’t make him want to rip their tongues out to shut them up.
She cut two apples into a bowl, threw a handful of grapes into it, and carried it up to her room for some final calories before she fell asleep.
Felix was such a lovely submissive, an extreme masochist who craved the pain she needed to dole out. But Chase gave her the other parts of what she needed — good sex from a dominant who didn’t require her submission and in fact respected her dominance, even if he was never going to submit. And along with that, excellent conversation and zero emotional complication. Just two friends who understand each other perfectly, in bed and out of it.
Chapter 7
Spence went into the suite he shared with Zander and pulled his sweater off, his dick already hard in anticipation of the belting he’d earned for a job well done.
Things were always tense when Lucien was on the premises, and Spencer had managed to get Kendra off to Fairbanks to handle some naughty bear shifters while finding a reason to house Lucien with Roman, a vampire who made Spence’s spine vibrate, but he’d been part of the deal when Zander had signed the paperwork to take over the territory.
And really, Kendra spent more time in Fairbanks thanshe did in Anchorage, these days.
But that was beside the point, which was that she wasn’t here at the same time as Lucien.
Also, that Spence wouldn’t have to deal with Lucien too much, with Roman housing him.
Roman owned three slaves. Actual slaves, with shock collars around their necks to disable them if they got too close to the outer wall of Roman’s massive estate. Two slaves managed the upkeep of the grounds and cleaned the inside, while the other acted as Roman’s personal assistant. All were sex and blood slaves, which was why Lucien opted to stay with Roman rather than the coterie house when the offer was made.
Lucien and Roman are the kind of sadist who don’t want their victim to enjoy the pain. At all. Both gave Spence the heebies. He’d encountered entirely too many vampires like them while living in Maryland, before Abbott had acquired him.
To convince Roman to house Lucien, Spence had offered the vampire a sweet deal to go to Mordnik the following year for thirty percent off, and another twenty percent off if he’d provide two of his three slaves to be used in the slave pool for feeding and balls. It totaled forty-four percent off, enough Spence had needed the okay from their accountants before he could make the offer, but it worked okay because the slaves’ costs were less than they’d have to pay a no-limits shifter. Plus, they would be housed in Roman’s suite, and he would be responsible for them when they weren’t working.
The asshole had lived in Alaska for nearly a hundred years under three names because he’s a recluse who rarely goes out. He owns a fleet of fishing and crabbing vessels, and the largest privately owned seafood processing plant in Anchorage, along with other shipping contracts to move things — both legal and illegal — on and off the coast of Alaska.
