I’m here on a mission.
Frolicking can come later.
I gulp as she lands on the table adjacent to mine, and she wastes no time in curling her body lasciviously around a wide-eyed Fae male that looks as if he’s about to piss himself from the attention.
What a buffoon. A girl like that needs a male who will bring her to the peaks of pleasure repeatedly, not a scared little boy who wouldn’t know what to do with her.
She needs a dominant. Someone like me.
She giggles, the sound so crystalline and pure that my pants tighten instantly down there, before she jumps from the tabletop, blowing the dazed male a kiss.
As she passes by my table, a whisper of a barely-there touch caresses my shoulder, and luminescent sparkles linger way longer after she disappears in the throng of exuberant patrons who clap and chant her name.
Sariah.
Sariah.
Sariah.
I adjust my straining cock, and watch as she vanishes out of sight in an explosion of pastel hues.
What the fuck did I just witness?
There is a time for spying out in the open, gathering intel about your target, and there’s a time when you make yourself one with the shadows, waiting to strike when they least expect it.
That’s what I’m doing right now. Leaning in a dark corner of the Twinkling Meadow’s facade, I await my clueless little prey. She should be out any minute now, ready to call it a night and go back to her home that she previously shared with Aimee.
I contain my wandering thoughts about that tight body of hers as I scent the crisp night air around me. Winter is well upon Annerough, not as blisteringly frigid as in Wrahta, but not much warmer either. It’s a good thing the cold doesn’t affect us vampires like it does humans and Fae alike, or I’d be freezing my ass out here, waiting to snatch her.
A wave of tingling trepidation sings in my blood, and it has nothing to do with the kidnapping.
She’s a slim pixie Fae girlie with no fighting skills. This mission is as easy as they come. Nothing to trepidate about.
No.
The adrenaline coursing through my body has much more to do with the prospect of getting my hands on that alabaster skin and wrapping my fist around those pale locks in a tight grip.
Aimee asked me not to be brutish about this endeavor, yet I’m feeling anything but gentle right now.
After all, a little bit of roughhousing is good for the soul.
Extraordinary in the bedroom.
I lick my fangs as I imagine just how well she could take me.
Boisterous laughter breaks the midnight silence as light spills onto the street from the personnel entrance of the cabaret, and a group of gorgeous females steps out of the building.
Sariah is among them.
“Babe, are you sure you don’t want to come with us tavern-hopping?” a petite brunette asks, and Sariah shakes her head no.
“Not tonight, Brea. But next time the faerie wine’s on me,” Sariah answers, and I lose my focus for a second at the sound of her sultry voice.
Fuck.
Is there anything about this female that I don’t find enticing?
I hope she has crooked toes or an ugly belly button. Something to even out the playing field. But probably every inch of her scrumptious body is deliciously perfect.
