Page 41 of Fated to the Vampire Prince
Clearing my throat, I responded with the most basic yet honest answer.“I was looking for you.”
There was a beat of silence.
That ache between my thighs crested to new heights when he released himself to grab a handkerchief and began wiping off his thighs, allowing me to look at him fully. At how hard and long he was. How thick this part of him was.
He tossed the soiled handkerchief on the floor, his gaze never leaving my face. The line of his dark blond brows pushed together in question.“Why?”
“You’re in a feeding tent, and considering I am the one you are supposed to be feeding from, I thought you would want to see me.”
“Feeding tent is nickname we use for tents designated for fucking.”
“Oh.”
He glanced down at his hard length, then back up at me, nonplussed.“When you saw I didn’t require a feeding, why didn’t you leave?”
The question needled me, and an embarrassed flush rushed back into my cheeks. Maybe he didn’t want me here. Maybe he hadn’t meant to open our connection and say those things.
I twisted my fingers together and looked over his shoulder at the brazier hanging in the corner—it was the only thing warming the small tent, except for the fire in my cheeks.“I-I don’t know.”
He said nothing, and neither did I. After a moment, my curiosity got the better of me. If he wanted me to leave, he wasn’t making a show of it or even moving to cover himself.
He was simply questioning me, like he always did.
“What were you doing in here?”
It was the first time his lips moved—one corner lifting into a smirk. I would’ve been irritated that he found my questionfunny, but he had the most beautiful lips I’d ever seen, and they were rather distracting.
“I’m assuming this is a rhetorical question,”Bastien drawled,“because you saw what I was doing.”
Another fresh flush of embarrassment filled my cheeks, and it was so frustrating that I had been as sheltered as I was. I’d never been given the words to articulate myself properly.
“You assume I have a name for it.”
Bastien quirked a brow this time.“You don’t?”
“I’m assuming that must be a rhetorical question,”I began, mocking him,“because you know I grew up in a convent. And that,” I pointed in the general direction of his stiff length,“wasn’t covered in my lessons on worshipping the Moon Goddess.”
He didn’t laugh like I thought he might. No. He raked his teeth over his bottom lip and rubbed at his long chin. Contemplating me. His silence did nothing to stop my desire for him. If anything, itintensified, and I had to shift my weight, needing to move some part of me.
His smirk fell flat.“You’re curious.”
Curiousdidn’t quite cover what I was feeling, but I supposed it was close enough for his understanding.“Yes. I am.”
“You stayed out of curiosity? Nothing more?”
No.
“Yes.”
I bit my lip. It was one of the few outright lies I’d told him, besides, of course, about my upbringing at the Nightfall Convent and Mama’s choker. But those lies were necessary to my espionage. This onewasn’t.
“And what are you curious about?”he asked. His hand slowly inched up his thigh, closer to the part of him that held all my attention.
My breath came out in a stutter.“I-I’m curious about a lot of things, Your Grace.”
“Like what?”
My brain went momentarily blank when his hand found himself again. Slowly massaging his length as he watched me.
