I am indeed softening toward her to levels I used to believe as inconceivable, but her mocking tone keeps the confession at bay.
I lift the lid off the plate full of roasted meat and honey-glazed vegetables before taking my seat across the table.
“I just thought we’d replenish our energy for all the stamina-consuming activities we’ll endeavor to later,” I say with a wink.
“Is that apromise or a threat?”
She impales a succulent piece of meat with her fork, bringing it to her parted lips and sucking the juices that dribble down her chin. My cock instantly hardens at the sight.
“Both.”
“Such a thoughtful vampire you’re proving to be,” she chuckles wickedly, her tongue darting past her pouty lips to lick her fingers.
“I’m afraid I’m more selfish than you presume, moonlight. Having you well-fed and satiated is as much for my benefit as it is for your own.”
“Is it now?” she asks before taking another bite of the food. “Then tell me, pretty boy, what flavors my blood nicely for you?”
Sariah leans down the table, reaching two fingers into the honey bowl and taking a blob of the sickly sweet nectar on her fingertips, before bringing them back to her mouth. She hovers the fingers just above her lips, sticky honey gliding down her knuckles.
“Honey, perhaps?” she asks before licking the fingers clean, her tongue swirling around her digits just as masterfully as it does around my dick.
“Or maybe strawberries and chocolate?” she continues, picking up a plump berry and dipping it into melted chocolate. I watch enraptured as she slowly, lazily moves the fruit to her lips, smearing the chocolate against her mouth before she nibbles on the juicy tip. I gulp, feeling the blood in my body rushing down south.
How is it that this electrifying female flips the script on me in every situation? It’s like she thrives on bringing me down to my knees, and I’m discovering that I enjoy being at her feet a little too much.
“Dragon got your tongue, pretty boy?” Her grin is full of mischief as she coats her finger in more chocolate and leaves a sinful trail down her neck. “Or maybe you prefer it directly on your snack?”
That does it. I fling myself over the table, platters full of food toppling over and clattering to the ground.
My left knee is smashing a tray of roasted potatoes, the grease staining my leathers, but I couldn’t care less.
My intention was to have a romantic dinner with Sariah under the starry sky, but the air between us is too heavy with arousal and immoral promises.
It’s a miracle in itself that I lasted as much as I did.
I grab her by the throat and bring her mouth to mine, licking the mess she made before plunging my tongue deep inside. She tastes like pure, unadulterated vice, promiscuous and decadent. I never want to sully my tastebuds with anything inferior ever again. I wonder furtively if she would ever agree to be my sole source of sustenance. To drink any other blood feels like a capital sin at this point.
She grabs my braids and fists them around her knuckles, taking—not asking—control of our kiss. I relinquish it way too greedily, letting her guide me onto my back on top of the table, her smooth legs straddling my hips. I’m pretty sure my hair is sticky with the syrups and sauces staining the once white linen, and a fork is definitely pricking my ass, but fuck, this is one of the hottest encounters of my centuries long existence, and I’ve been having plenty such moments as of late, with her.
“Let’s see how my good boy tastes,” she says in a sultry tone, ripping my shirt open and pouring wine directly on my chest. I hiss when her tongue makes contact with my skin, lapping up the burgundy liquid with slow strokes before peppering open-mouthed kisses down my abs. Wine has pooled in my navel, and she sips it torturously slow before continuing her path toward my erection. She frees me with one hand, giving me a languid once-over through fluttering lashes before taking me into her mouth.
I groan, letting my head fall back on the table with an audible thud.
“Eyes down here, pretty boy. I want you to know exactly who’s giving you the best orgasm of your life.”
As if there’s any doubt about that.
I prop myself up on my elbows, watching her head bob up and down on my shaft. She hollows out her cheeks, picking up her pace and sneaking a hand between us to graze my balls with her sharp nails.
A rush of air tumbles out of me as she takes me to the hilt, and it takes only two more times before I release with a roar into the night.
I’m still as hard as the steel of my scimitar, but my body goes entirely limp and my thoughts scatter like snowflakes in the wind.
“What’s the verdict?” I ask in a voice two octaves lower than usual. “How do I taste?”
“You tell me,” she answers with her mouth full, wiping her lips and pushing her tongue into my mouth. There’s a certain earthy tang mixed in with the sweetness of strawberries and her signature floral scent. Tasting myself on her sends a shock of galvanism through my system, bringing my frayed nerves to a tipping point. I haul her up from me and in a rush of heightened speed I jump from the table and plant her ass on the stoned crenel, parting her legs and ripping her undergarments. Her dress is next, torn from her body with no remorse and floating airily to the ground on the outside of the castle walls.
Her bubbly giggle turns into a throaty gasp as I bury myself into her in a frantic movement, gripping her waist as she leans back over the precipice, holding on to me only by my braids. Her hair is flapping in the wind and her moans rise to the sky like profane prayers. I lock one of her legs around my waist, the other resting on my shoulder, and the new angle brings me deeper inside, pushing into her inner walls in a punishing rhythm. Sariah releases her hold on my locks, throwing her hands above her head into the abyss behind her.
