Emmy felt her throat tighten. “So if I say I only want you and Spence…”
“Then at the Harvest Gala next week, you dance with me and Spencer, and if anyone else touches you, they’ll answer to me.” His thumb brushed her cheekbone. “But that has to be your choice, not mine. I won’t make it for you.”
She looked up at him, this ancient vampire who treated her like an equal even when he could have demanded anything he wanted. “I choose you,” she whispered. “Both of you. Just you.”
“Then that’s settled.” He pulled her into his arms, and she felt the tension drain out of her. “No more fighting with yourself about obligations and contracts. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
Spence’s voice came from the bedroom doorway. “Thank goodness. With your permission, Sir and Ma’am, I’d like to go to bed now.”
Emmy laughed despite herself, and let Zander lead her back to the bedroom, where Spence was already pulling back the covers.
Chapter 16
The following week, Emmy made more time for the workout room, with texts going back and forth so she worked out with some combination of Rhea, Felix, and Toby nearly every day. She heard about Toby’s research, about Felix’s new favorite sadist, andallthe flock gossip from Rhea and Maren.
And then it was Thanksgiving. One might think the Harvest Gala is named for the fall harvest, but these are vampires, so Emmy couldn’t help but logic her way to the fact the daywalkers would be harvested of their blood at the end of the evening. Vampires love their double entendres.
Earlier in the day, the daywalkers were fed a traditional Thanksgiving meal, and Spence went up with Emmy to eat with her friends — an hour of gossip and ribbing along withpossibly the best tasting Thanksgiving meal Emmy could remember having.
She went with Rhea and Felix to the media room after, to hang out with the other daywalkers while their food settled, and then worked out hard with the weights in the workout room before heading down to get dressed in her deep burgundy gown.
She put her hair into a French twist, and Spence secured it with extra bobby pins to be sure it stayed put. He donned his fancy tux while she stepped into her gown, and she didn’t realize until after he’d zipped her gown and was stepping away that his ass was completely bare. From the front, it was a normal tuxedo with a short jacket, but from the back, it made her want to wiggle the shiny butt plug Zander had inserted a few hours earlier.
The two went up to her room on the flock’s floor, gathered up Rhea, Felix, and Toby, and the group made their way to the ballroom.
On this night, there was no mark to show her as level one. Instead, she wore an armband denoting her as off limits. Technically, without the tattoo, no one would touch her, but the staff wear an armband as well, and Spence had put it on her after she was dressed.
He didn’t need one. Everyone knows better than to touch Spence without Zander’s invitation to do so — and she’d seen the sidelong glances when she kissed Spence or patted his ass.
The ballroom was stunning, the guests as much a part of the decoration as the opulent chandeliers and marble columns. Gowns of burnished orange, golden yellow, ruby red, and rich burgundy swirled across the polished floor like autumn leaves caught in a whirlwind. Opera gloves sheathed arms to the elbow, satin and velvet whispering with every gesture, while tuxedos cut sharp lines on the men, the air humming with chamber strings that started the evening in elegant restraint.
She spotted Zander right away, and his gaze turned to her the second she looked at him. His midnight black tuxedo fit him like a second skin, and his cool hand settled at her waist as he drew her onto the dance floor. The chamber music swelled, and he led her in a slow waltz with effortless grace, their bodies brushing in controlled intimacy, his gaze locked on hers with that familiar intensity that made her breath catch.
“You are breathtaking.” His lips barely grazed her ear, sending shivers down her spine despite the room’s warmth. Raw emotion flooded her, heat and magnetism drawing them together with every step, every turn.
Later, he passed her to Spence for a lighter, playful spin when the orchestra played a jazz piece, sensual rhythms that gave her an excuse to let her hands roam lower, teasing the curve of his bare ass.
He groaned, and she laughed into his shoulder, heart swelling with the easy joy of him. When Zander reclaimed Spence for a dance, Emmy stepped aside with security,watching them move together. Zander’s cool dominance guided Spence’s fluid grace, the love between them a palpable force that twisted her chest with longing and pride.
Her gaze wandered, drawn to the night’s excesses unfolding near the outer ring of the room. Felix stood free in a cleared space, pants folded neatly on the floor before him, legs spread wide, bent forward at the hips, body parallel with the floor. His hands were laced behind his head while he stared at the wall a few feet in front of him, and his ass and thighs were striped a deep burgundy.
Standing to his side, holding a thick belt, or perhaps a strap, was Vexare. He lifted his arm and let the belt fly again, creating yet another deep red stripe across Felix’s ass.
Weights dangled from Felix’s balls, swinging with each impact. A mirror was leaned against the wall, forcing Felix to watch himself while he was belted. She could see his reflection — eyes glazed, mouth parted on breathless moans, lost in the exquisite torment.
Nearby, Rhea was leaned over a bar, two vampires double-teaming her, and the arch of her back told Emmy all she needed to know: her friend was deep in the throes of ecstasy, wanting more and more.
Zander returned to her, studied her face, and then walked her behind a curtain on the opposite side of the room. He walked her to a bar, then turned her to him, kissed her forehead. “I can smell your arousal. Bend over the bar, Emerald.”
His voice was velvet, his hands were firm, and her stomach did a somersault, but she turned and leaned over the bar.
Emmy’s pulse thundered, heat pooling low as he lifted her gown in rustling folds. When she was bare from the waist down, cool fingers teased her slick folds, circled her clit, and dipped inside just enough to make her hips buck. She teetered on the edge of begging or demanding, unsure which was more likely to get his cock inside her instead of his fingers fuckingteasingher.
No sooner than she had the thought, he shoved inside her in a single brutal thrust.
He quickly found his rhythm, stretching her wide, thrusting with a delicious force two dozen times before pulling out slick and pressing into her ass without warning.
The burn hit fierce, pain spreading sharp and intense as he opened her, inch by relentless inch, the contrast of his cool length against her heat overwhelming. Raw, visceral pleasure twisted with the hurt, her body alternately yielding and clenching.
