Page 25 of Alaric's Hidden Gem

“A bit like your dick,” she added with a smirk as she took another bite.

I scowled at her impudence but decided it would be fun to remind her of her words when I made her choke on said dick.

∞∞∞

It took eight days for her collar to arrive. I locked it away in the playroom for the appropriate time to present it to her. The craftsmanship on the collar was exquisite and reflected the price it cost to have it made.

Gemma spent a few hours a day working in the office. I monitored her internet use, but she never tried to contact her family, work colleagues or the authorities. She wouldn't lull me into a false sense of security. I remained on guard. She was knowledgeable in all things art, and Damien mentioned that her assistance was of value to him.

He had taken eleven of my paintings from various periods and artists with him, but he was sending close-up sections of these to Gemma. After staying with her in the office for the first few days under the pretence that I was working, I eventually relaxed when their interactions were friendly but business-like.

What I did learn about was the human fertility cycle and pregnancy process. It astounded me what a woman’s body was capable of. I grudgingly admired their physiology in creating and carrying another human. My part was to fuck her senseless during her fertility window. I’d been diligent in checking her temperature with my cock for days. Her secretions should change, but I would check that with my mouth. The main aspect was to ensure I fucked enough of my sperm against her softening or opening cervix. I was armed with knowledge, and tomorrow was day one.

She walked towards the printer and took a sheet of paper off it but went to stand beside the window as she studied it under the sunlight. She scrunched her eyes up before her face cleared, took it to her laptop, and began tapping away on the keyboard.

I checked on my computer to see what she was typing.

It's an ancient Greek occult symbol. Some are hidden, and some are painted into the pictures, but they aren't the main focus. The artists are all either pagans or modern-day witches, but I believe the correct term is Wiccans. I would need to research the root of who they follow or worship.

Yeah, fuck that.

I picked my phone up and messaged Damien to tell him that Gemma wouldn't be available for a few days. His response was instant.

Don't be a selfish dick.

I ignored his message because nothing was coming between my blood mate’s sweet pussy and my seed.

Chapter 20

Gemma

When I followed the beautiful aroma of coffee, I was shocked to find Alaric cooking breakfast in the kitchen. He looked freshly showered, with his dark hair slicked back. He wore a white T-shirt and grey shorts. I rubbed my eyes as he looked up from the cooker.

“Am I dreaming, or did we have a role reversal during the night?” I asked because he hadn't attempted cooking again other than his meat and veg toastie.

He didn't need to say any words for his face to show his disdain at my suggestion.

“Sit outside, and I will bring you your breakfast?”

I nodded and walked outside. It was a little cooler since the sun wasn't shining on the patio or garden area yet. I rubbed my arms and walked to the small section where the sun shone. It didn't matter what the weather was like because I loved being outside first thing in the morning—the fresh, crisp air, with the sounds of the various birds and the ocean. There was no city smog and no noise. Other than the blood-sucking kidnapping vampire who enslaved me, the island was a paradise.

Alaric’s body pressed against mine, and his hands came around and cupped my breasts. My nipples instantly hardened when he rubbed his thumb over them. My thin cotton vest top had little protection against his wandering hands.

“Eat, but there is no walking or working in the office today,” he said with one hand sliding between my legs.

When I tried to turn to face him, his hand gripped me by my throat to hold me in place as he rubbed my pussy through the material of my shorts and knickers.

“Why, Master?” I asked, worried that my new restrictions might be permanent.

“It’s breeding day today,” he whispered in my ear. “We’re going to the red room, and that's where you will remain for the next few days until I’m certain my little fuck slave’s cunt is full of my cum and bred the way you were always meant to be.”

“Do you expect me to be a mother or a slave, Master?” I asked him quietly.

The question played on my mind since he told me the significance of blood mates. We were rare and the only ones vampires could procreate with.

“Both, we will always have our playroom.”

I released the breath I’d been holding because, from the beginning, he’d made his expectations of me crystal clear. His dominant Master side was a difficult adjustment initially, but he had mellowed out since Damien’s second visit.

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