I grunted, hating to acknowledge yet again that he was right.
“Give him the chance to screw up a little. That’s how we learn. And don’t take everything so personal.”
It was difficult with you. Always had been.
“You should wean your pet off the wine,” I said. Not to mention Stefan was certainly drinking up our profits. “And keep your eye on him.”
“That’s all I ever do,” Lucian said dreamily. “Perhaps I should visit the baths. He said he’d be spending the morning there rejuvenating. I wouldn’t want any of those lecherous old demons to lay hands on him.”
I counted Lucian among them but held my tongue. I could only imagine the bloodshed that youth could inspire with his seductive poses and liberal disregard for clothing. “Don’t let your cock-teasing incubus breed more discontent amongst the tribes,” I warned, still not convinced he hadn’t been sent here by Azrael as a plant.
“Be nice to him, Henri. I’m quite enamored.”
Obsessed was more like it. I shook my head at Lucian’s tendency to go after the most impossible of conquests. They were always unavailable in some way, which only drove Lucian to distraction. As a result, his trysts often met violent ends. “Perhaps you won’t want to bleed this one to death,” I said as encouragement.
“But I would like to have a taste,” he said with more than a little longing. Rather than pursue Lucian’s carnal fantasies, I told him we’d be down in a few hours. “Make sure you shower.” Lucian turned up his nose at my musk. “You reek of sex.” He sounded bitter. For all the hedonism he’d inspired, Lucian’s well was bone dry.
While you slept, I contemplated this budding relationship between you and Stefan. I wished that I could chalk it up to your similar ages as the reason you’d struck up a friendship, but nothing with you was an accident.
You fussedat me when I tried to wake you, then made an admirable attempt to lure me back into bed, then snarled when I put you under a hot shower. The only time you weren’t sour was when I let you bleed me. Then you were sweet and lovable as a puppy, your big brown eyes staring up at me with adoration.
Cucciolo.
It made me long for the time when you were mine, alone. When we weren’t surrounded by our enemies on all sides. If only I could construct a shield around my islands and keep you there as my one and only. Damn Azrael and his insatiable thirst for power. Damn Lena for dragging us into this foolish campaign. And damn the other tribes for foisting the future of our race upon your shoulders.
“You’re brooding,” you said as you carefully licked the fresh wound on my forearm.
“That’s just my face.”
“Your broody face.”
“Do I have any others?”
You smiled. “Yes, there’s your hungry face and your sleepy face and your grumpy face.”
“How is grumpy any different from broody?”
“Grumpy is general discontent. Broody includes an element of concentration. Much more disturbing.”
I grinned. “Do I have any pleasing faces?”
“Oh yes. Your sexy face and your about-to-come face are very pleasing.”
“What does my about-to-come face look like?” I asked, knowing I was going to regret it.
You sat back on your heels and licked your lips. “It’s, like, one hundred percent pure focus and determination. When you look at me like that, it feels like you’re peeling me apart, trying to get at my soft, nougaty center.” You moaned and pressed the heel of your hand against your groin. “I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”
“You’re getting hard because you just fed.”
“I can get hard for multiple reasons.” You batted your eyes. “Will you get me off before we go? Pretty please?” You began rocking into your hand, and I wished we didn’t have this damnable appointment to keep.
“We’re late already.”
“But you make me so horny. Please. I’ll be quick.”
I didn’t doubt it. I patted my thighs and you clambered onto my lap with a gleeful expression.
“As fast as you can,” I said and reached into your pants.
