Page 34 of House of Crimson Kisses
The Chief lowers her hands, and the amulet floats down through the air to hover above the lectern. Cordelia grasps it and turns to the audience.
Octavia’s finger circles my entrance. My breathing increases. Xavier’s gaze snaps to Octavia. He must be able to smell my excitement.
He raises his brows at her and then mouths, “Really?”
“What?” She shrugs.
My cheeks flame hot with shame and excitement because he knows exactly what we’re doing. My pussy throbs. I should note that neither of them acknowledges me in this conversation. In fact, Octavia leans forward to rest her other elbow on the table and her chin in her hand like I don’t even exist. Fuck. The fact she’s ignoring me while she pushes her finger inside my pussy drives me fucking wild. I have to swallow down the yelp of excitement.
“This. Doesn’t. Mean. Anything.” I pant as quietly as I can.
“I know,” she whispers.
Cordelia finishes examining the amulet and turns back to the audience. “I can confirm that the amulet has chosen one of the offerings. It has sealed an item inside of its protective casing.”
The audience draws in a collective gasp and then a round of oohs and ahhs follow. It allows me a moment to pant audibly and for it to sound like everyone else. Which promptly makes Octavia slide another finger inside me.
Fuck. Me.
She moves agonisingly slow, her fingers drawing in and out of my slickness. The hole in my trousers is only small, so she doesn’t have a lot of room to manoeuvre, but that doesn’t seem to stop her.
“Would the winners of this round please now step forward,” the Chief says.
There’s a shuffling of movement as the audience full of humans, hunters and vampires alike all glance around to search for who will stand up and claim their prize.
There’s a couple of muffled coughs, and the temperature in the room rises—and not just because Octavia is fucking me under the table.
“Come now,” Cordelia says, a slight hitch in pitch in her voice. “Present yourselves.”
No one moves and the room descends into silence, no one even reaches for a drink glass. I grit my teeth and clench down on Octavia’s fingers and prevent her from moving. There’s so little sound and I am so fucking wet that everyone will hear what we’re doing.
She curls her fingers until she finds my G-spot.
Oh gods.
She doesn’t need to move in and out. She curls her finger and rubs over that glorious spot that has heat flushing my cheeks and me struggling to control my breathing and sit still.
“We have other things to be doing this evening. Children?” Cordelia says.
“Hunters?” the Chief calls.
But still, there’s nothing. No movement, no sound, no one claims the win. It’s a mutiny against the process, against the trials. This is not how she expected it to go. It wasn’t in her plan—well, mine either.
The Chief’s expression changes, shifting and morphing. The lines of her porcelain face harden, her expression narrows, a seething tremor rumbles through her eyes. Someone is going to suffer as a result of our keeping the win a secret.
“What is going on?” Cordelia snaps. “Come forward at once.”
The room breaks out into murmurs and the chatter of growing confusion. I release Octavia’s fingers, and she continues fucking me, harder, faster now. I grip the table with one hand and try to keep my face as neutral as I can.
But I’m so close. I’m going to spill over. She thrusts harder. Shifts her arm position to keep her body motionless and only the feverish movements of her wrist and fingers under the table would give us away.
My pussy clenches and relaxes as I climb higher.
Xavier shifts in his seat, clearly aware of exactly what is going on. Octavia looks at me, stares me right in the eye and mouths, “Do you want to come?”
I nod feverishly. My nipples are so hard against the fabric of my sports bra, every nod of my head ignites a tiny sizzle of pleasure that goes straight to my pussy.
“Eyes on me,” she whispers.
