Page 39 of Fated to the Vampire Prince
The Duke pressed his lips together, nodding once, then set aside his sketchpad and graphite and scooped me up like hehad the first night we’d met. Surprised, I gasped, wrapping my arms around his neck to steady myself.
Our eyes connected, and my mouth softened for him. I knew if he kissed me now, I wouldn’t stop him. I’d fold like a house of cards. Desire and anticipation had my skin tingling with need. But it wasn’t my kiss that he wanted. It was my body.My blood. That’s why I was here.
Gently, he lay me on the pile of furs that served as my camp bed. My hands reluctantly left his neck, gliding down his shoulders and grazing his chest before tucking them back at my sides. He stared at me for a long moment as I lay there. His hungry gaze trailed over the swell of my breasts, continuing down to my navel. Down, further still. Lingering around the place where my sleeping shift had ridden up, showcasing my bare thighs. I guessed what he wanted. And if truth be told, I wanted it too.
Without looking away, I spread my legs apart, watching him as he watched me. I was so needy for him. So vulnerable. Spread open wide and exposed. Ready to be licked and kissed and nipped at in the only way I’d ever been. “Eat, Your Grace,” I said in a thick voice I almost didn’t recognize—spreading my legs wider, ready for him to crawl between them and drink from me as we’d done every other night in this twisted, dark exchange I’d come to thirst for as much as he. “I don’t want you to go hungry.”
Bastien grabbed my wrist, stopping me from pulling my shift up around my hips. My eyes grew wide with surprise. “No,” he said sharply, even though the shadows under his eyes had appeared, and his transformation was imminent. He drew a measured breath and released his grip on me, then said, “I mean,not tonight. I’ve kept you up too late.”
His denial stung more than I thought it would. My body ached for him,for his touch. And it didn’t like being told no. Amillion thoughts tumbled inside my head, all of them screaming at me for being a failure.
He covered me in furs and sat beside the bed reading. Leaving me alone and frustrated. I turned away from him. When the anger and shame twisting inside me finally let me sleep, I closed my eyes and curled beneath the thick furs like I was retreating into a cocoon.
My sleep was fitful. Marred by dreams that felt too real. Of kisses. Of hands pressed into the bedsheets. Of that hardness between his legs pressed against my soft middle. Then, the scene shifted to a chilly autumn night, a full moon, and the shrill howl of a wolf.
I awoke the next morning feeling shameful and made the no-nonsense choice to rededicate myself to my mission. It was time to take things to the next level. I needed information about the relics he was stealing from the Lawless Lands.
Another gust of wind blew through the tent, bringing me out of the reverie and back to the present. I sat fully up, holding the furs against my chest. “Your Grace?” I called again. But only the wind answered.
I frowned. Had he gotten sick of me? Had he found another’s tent to warm him? What if he was there right now? It would make sense. I was just his sanguine partner, and it wasn’t my job to see to any of hisotherneeds.
Maybe my plan to woo him had been stupid. Jealousy like I’d never felt before sprouted in my stomach, and suddenly I didn’t want to be sitting here, waiting for him. I forced myself to leave the warmth of the bed, wrapping my arms around my middle as I strolled through the expansive, multi-room tent, only to find one of the ties had come loose.
I went to refasten it when I saw Bastien’s nephew, Tyson, staring at me from a few paces away. He looked resplendent in his royal blue cloak with gold stitching. His dark hair pulledback, and his bronze skin shining under the glow of the moon. He ran a thumb across his lower lip, looked both ways, then made his way over to where I stood.
I braced myself, unsure what to expect. Bastien had allowed him and Okeri to ride with the guard the past few days, allowing me some alone time, and we hadn’t said much to each other except to exchange pleasantries.
“Good evening,” the vampire said, bowing at the neck.
I curtsied politely, giving him the honors he was due as a viscount, but I felt uneasy speaking to him alone.
“I couldn’t help but hear you calling for my uncle.”
I closed the folds of my robe as tendrils of embarrassed heat raced up my neck.
Tyson offered me a charming smile then he tapped the side of his ear. “Us vampires have very good hearing, as I’m sure you know. A blessing and a curse, if truth be told. Especially in a camp this small. We heareverything. Every stubbed toe, every moan of pleasure.” He pursed his lips and leaned conspiratorially in. “Be grateful for the limits of your mortal hearing.”
“Oh,” I said as heat crept into my cheeks. He’d heard our whispered conversations in the dark. And my moans of pleasure as he fed.
“Is there something you wanted? From my uncle, that is?” Tyson asked, and I couldn’t tell if he was fishing for information or trying to be helpful.
If his hearing was as good as he boasted, he knew things I didn’t. Perhaps forming an alliance with the young vampire wasn’t a bad idea. “That is very kind of you to ask, My Lord.” I shivered from the winter chill, and Tyson unfastened his cloak and offered it to me.
“Please. Take it. I can’t stand to see a woman shiver.”
I accepted it hesitantly, setting it over my shoulders andsighing into the warmth it provided. “Has the council meeting finished yet?”
Tyson raised a mischievous eyebrow, and a smirk settled on his face. “It has.”
That jealous snake in my stomach started writhing once again, and I looked over Tyson’s shoulder, hoping to see a hulking, stoic blond vampire stalking through the night, making his way toward me, but he wasn’t.
Tyson leaned in closer and cupped a hand to his mouth, inviting me in for a secret. Nervously, I bent forward, allowing him to whisper in my ear. “My uncle has secluded himself in a feeding tent. Just over there.”
I followed his finger to a cluster of small tents. Why would he be in a feeding tent? We had our own tent that we’d been making good use of. “Should I?—”
“Join him?” Tyson offered, finishing my sentence.
I nodded.
