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She cupped my cheek and pressed her lips softly to mine, whispering against my lips. “Yes. I will show you exactly how much you mean to me.”
Pulling away, she leaned back onto the chaise, reclining on the cushions. Her hair spilled over the arm and back of the chaise like a silken waterfall, down over her shoulders, trailing across the floor.
Tightening around my throat. A thick, black collar of silken hair.
Nevarre tossed a pile of her hair in my direction. Hitting me in the chest, her hair slipped down over my groin. “This section is all combed out, my queen.”
I shuddered at the exquisite sensation. Long tendrils slithered over my cock. Winding around my shaft. Tightening around my balls. Throat and cock bound. For her.
Her lips curved into a wicked, knowing smile. “You’re not getting very many tangles out, Tlacel.”
“Sorry, my queen.” I picked up another thick coiled strand so I could comb it out, but the entire section slithered around my arm. It climbed up around my shoulder. Across my nape. Then down my other arm. Binding my arms together. Pulling tight enough my breath shuddered out.
“Tell me what you want, my Blood.” Ever so slowly, she began to reel me in closer. “How do you want me to love you tonight?”
“Take everything, my queen, and make me bleed.”
“Would you be okay with?—”
I nodded immediately. “Yes. Anything. Use me as you see fit, my queen.”
She dragged her gaze away from me, tipping her head to look up at Nevarre. “How do you feel about fucking Tlacel for my enjoyment?”
Nevarre leaned down over the back of the chaise and nibbled lightly at her lips. “I thought you’d never fucking ask, my queen. But first I’d love to unwrap you so your beauty will torment us both.”
She let her head drop back over the arm of the chaise, arching her neck and breasts up toward him. Lightly, he stroked his fingertips down her throat to the folded edges of her robe. Followed by his mouth while he slowly untied the belt. He pressed a kiss to the puckered scar over her heart, where the heart tree in the center of her grove had pierced—and killed—her.
Silk whispered against her skin. Opening, baring her body to our gaze.
A rough growl tore through the room, then shut off suddenly.
We all knew it was Vore. But not a single Blood looked in his direction.
We were too busy drinking in our queen’s glory. The Dauphine could have resurrected herself and walked into the room, and I wouldn’t have been able to pull my gaze away from my queen’s beauty.
Even though I’d already worshiped at her feet several times, I had to bite back the same sound of desire. We all did.
The long, elegant curve of her throat. The swell of her breasts. I’d memorized every hollow and line and curve, mapped by my fingers and lips and body. My fingers itched to paint her like this. Her eyes shining and dark, her mouth parted. The tips of her fangs glistening as her hunger rose. Her tongue moistening her lush lips.
Dipping his head, Nevarre kissed his way down her stomach, letting his own long hair slip and slide to torment her. She planted her foot on the chaise and lifted her hips, opening her thighs for him. An invitation no Blood would ever in a million years refuse.
It wasn’t my tongue pressed against her slit. Thrusting inside her. Drinking her desire. Feeling the pounding pulse of her blood in her clit. So close, only feet away, yet so very far. Close enough to breathe in the musky scent of her rising need. Hear the way her breathing caught in her chest. The quickening of her pulse.
She fisted her hands in Nevarre’s hair, holding him close.
Even while she pulled me closer with her hair.
Inviting me to join the feast.
* * *
VORE
I wanted.
Taste. Drink. Swallow. Feast.
Like these two Blood.
