The men at my sides and back come with me, showering me with their hot seed. Uriel thrusts through my orgasm, dragging it out until the sensation is almost painful before he falls over the edge as well, shouting my name in the process and sending delicious aftershocks of desire through me. I fall against his chest, my breathing hot and heavy, body twitching from the lingering pleasure coursing across my skin like lightning. When he pulls out of me, I can’t help but cry out at the loss, whimpering softly. The sound was uncontrollable, but it sent a wave of embarrassment through me anyhow. Jesus, Blair! Get a hold of yourself!
Someone gets off the bed and pads into the bathroom before returning with a warm wet towel. They clean me off with loving strokes, kissing along my body as they go, sending goosebumps down my arms and legs. I sigh when multiple sets of strong hands replace the towel, giving me another massage. This part is almost as beautiful, if not more so, than the sex. That’s what frightens me, this closeness, this intimacy. It’s the whole reason I haven’t completely submitted to them, why I’m still holding back a piece of myself.
I don’t want to give in to it just for it all to be ripped away again.
So, instead, I lift my head and look at Uriel. His eyes are closed, a small, satisfied smile lifts his lips. With a start, I realize they’re massaging him too. It’s a testament to their closeness, to their love for each other and it makes me wonder whether or not they’ve ever gotten close in other ways, sexy ways. The thought sends a flush to my cheeks and I bat it away. No! Of course not, they’re brothers, I think, still studying Uriel’s content expression. But on the other hand. . .
“Why have I suddenly become an uncontrollable horn dog?” I blurt out in an attempt to get my mind off the subject.
Uriel blinks, eyes focusing on me, a lazy smile on his face that sends a pang of happiness through my chest. God my lords are beautiful to look at, especially when they’re smiling. And it nearly shatters me when he rolls me gently off of his chest to lie on the soft sheets. These men, with all their muscles and talons and sharp teeth treat me like fine china. It’s truly humbling, the feeling of being cherished. I look between all of them, giving them my best smile. A cute blush comes to their cheeks as they stare, nearly opened mouthed, back at me. Their reaction makes my smile widen as I giggle, eyes dancing from one man to the next. I’ve struck them speechless with my smile.
“Is anyone going to answer my question?” I ask, humor lining my words.
Michael shakes his head. “Oh, it’s the bond strengthening. Until it’s solidified, we will be drawn to each other by a powerful physical attraction, almost as if you’re in heat. I know that’s a shifter term, but it works here too. Between a vampire and their chosen bonded human, this is the courting stage filled with lots of love making.”
My cheeks flush. I’m in heat. “Oh,” I squeak in reply.
“So, it’s best if you’d stop being so stubborn and let us in, Blair. Then you might not be so sore all the time,” Gabriel says, a wicked grin on his face.
Raph slugs him, pretty hard if Gabriel’s answering flinch is any indication. He turns to me after scowling at his brother. “Don’t listen to him, Blair. Take your time.”
I laugh, even though my face is beet red. “It’s true though. Don’t worry, I’m not offended,” I pause, considering my next confession carefully. The lords lean in as if hanging off my every word. “In all honesty, I’m just scared. Physical relationships have always been easy for me, but emotional ones? I’m not a big fan of them after what happened with Carden, but I’m trying my hardest to change that. To let you in.”
By the time I finish speaking, I’m staring down at my fingers, picking at a hangnail mercilessly. There. I laid all of my baggage out for them to see, I was completely and embarrassingly honest with them. Hopefully they’re not weirded out by it, or worse, exasperated that Carden is holding me back yet again. That prospect makes me lift my head, chewing on my lip and looking at each of them in turn. Their expressions are a mixture of compassion and guilt, well, compassion from the three oldest lords, and guilt from Gabriel. When we lock eyes, he sits up on his knees, grasping my hands between his warm, calloused ones.
“I apologize, Blair. My words were simply a jest, I don’t mean to rush you. We will wait as long as you need,” he says, voice hoarse.
“It’s okay, really,” I reply, patting his hands before climbing out of the bed. “But I think I’d like to take a shower by myself this morning. Will you call for breakfast to be brought here? I’d like it to be just us.”
“Of course, whatever you want,” Raph murmurs, eyes roving over my face.
I turn away from him when tears threaten and clutch my hands to my chest. Not falling in love with these men is going to be harder than I thought, and I’m starting to wonder why I’m fighting it at all. They watch my every movement, trying to figure out how I feel as I inch toward the bathroom, nearly flinching at the soreness between my legs. It’s not painful, per say, but it’s not comfortable either. All it does is make me walk a bit awkwardly across the bedroom, thighs apart to reduce the friction. My skin prickles when I stop in the bathroom doorway, knowing full well that they’re still looking at me with wounded puppy dog eyes; wishing that I’d invite them into the shower with me. To be honest, I don’t know if I could resist going for a third round if they’re all slick and soapy against my skin, but I also don’t know if my lady bits can handle it. So, I close the door behind me with finality, sealing my hot as sin lords out.
***
Today’s the day of the party, but I can’t bring myself to feel any sort of stress after the sexcapade I just had with my lords. They also appear much more relaxed, laughing and talking over breakfast in front of our fireplace. It’s incredibly homey, I realize, as I snuggle deeper into the cocoon of blankets I’ve made in the armchair closest to the fire, taking a sip of my coffee. Again, they were miffed when I decided to sit by myself rather than on the massive leather couch with them, but I had decided that we need some distance.
The more sex I have with them, the more I want it again and again. And despite their claims that all that ends when the bonding is complete, I’m not sure how true that is. This desire feels all consuming, a raging inferno that can’t be doused no matter how much water you throw onto it. So, to think that it will just go away when we complete the bond doesn’t seem right to me. It’s all I can think about right now, and every time our skin touches, no matter how platonic it is, my insides light on fire.
So yeah, I had decided to sit over here by myself if only to get a break from the sexcapade.
“Would you like another piece of toast, Blair?” Uriel asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
I look up at him, smiling. “No, thank you. I’m just going to sip on my coffee for a little longer before Scarlet finally finds me and drags me away to get ready for the party.”
They all chuckle, knowing full well how demanding Scarlet can be. It’s what makes her the perfect maid for me. I need someone to kick me in the rear every now and then, without it I might never rise from the solace of my very expensive, very comfortable, bed in my private suite. I try not to think about how the lords knew to pick someone like her to be my lady in waiting. Had they done research on me? Observed me? Or had it been intuition?
I have so many unanswered questions that I’ve simply brushed aside in favor of sexual desire. But no more! Time to ask them everything and anything I need to know about this bond and my role and their past. . . lovers, I think; and the word leaves a sour taste in my mind. I don’t know when thinking of the other women turned from distant knowledge into raging jealousy, but it has. It probably has something to do with me being in heat, as Michael said it. My cheeks flush again at the word. It sounds so. . so carnal. Which, if I’m honest with myself, is exactly right. That’s what I’d call this never ending pit of lust in my chest and between my legs, carnal.
“Sooo. . .” I drawl, pulling their eyes to me. “I have some questions now that I’m, uh. .
.” I trail off, cheeks flaming.
“Sated?” Gabriel adds, that stupid grin back on his face.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Why do I like you again?”
The others laugh, throwing their heads back in a near identical fashion. It sends a shiver down my spine. That’s the second time something like that has happened, like they’re simply copies of each other with slightly different personalities. Almost cult like in nature, a group so tightly knit that no one besides their bonded lovers can become close. It’s strange, really, but that’s not what I want to focus on right now despite how much it both creeps me out and draws me in.
“Anyway,” I continue, shooting Gabriel one last scathing look. “I want to know things about you, about this bond, and whether or not I can do anything about it.”
Michael’s brows pull together. “Anything about it?”
My cheeks color once more. “Yikes, that’s not what I meant. I guess I was referring to the curse, not the bond itself.”
He sits back, crossing a foot over his knee. “Ah, I see. Well, I suppose we can tell you about the origin of the curse, though I will warn you that it does not paint us in a flattering light. It began before we rose to power, actually, when we were living on the streets to learn. . . humility.”
The last word is practically spit from his mouth, an obvious amount of animosity for his time on the streets present in his heart. He holds my gaze, eyes boring into me with a deeper meaning to his words, trying to convey something. I’m not exactly sure what he means by it being unflattering. Raph had told me they lived on the streets for a while, but not about anything horrible happening.
“Okay, I’m ready to hear it.”
As if I failed the test, Michael looks away, mouth twisting. Uriel glances at his brother before scooting forward and placing his forearms against his knees. Even he looks nervous, which in turn makes me nervous. Uriel is the happy go lucky one of the group, so seeing him like this sends a pang of worry through my chest. Gabriel is silent, as usual, that self-satisfied grin of his nowhere to be found. His face looks haunted, almost, and when I glance at Raph he has an identical expression lining his features.
“We were feral at the start of our lives,” Uriel begins, shame coating the words. “We took human blood whenever we wanted it. Our father hated us for it, warning us over and over again that he’d disown us if we didn’t get ahold of ourselves. Obviously, we ignored him, believing him to be a simple minded old man. He threw us out a month later, claiming to be teaching us a lesson.”
Raph rubs a hand over his mouth before taking over. “It didn’t change our behavior, at first. We continued to take what we wanted when we wanted, but never killing, never that. That is, until we came across the first woman to have your ambrosia blood.”
Gabriel closes his eyes, turning away. “We couldn’t stop ourselves, we fed and fed from her and fucked her until she died.”
The silence is deafening, and I clamp a hand over my mouth to hide the horrified tilt of my lips. So, Melisandre wasn’t the first one, not technically. Whoever the poor woman was that they killed was the first, the true bearer of the curse. So that’s why they’re being punished. . . because they killed someone. My blood chills at the thought, and I refuse to meet their eyes. But it was years ago, I tell myself, years.
But still.
“Ah, I see. Then what happened?” I ask after the silence stretches on for an uncomfortable amount of time.
Michael looks up at me from the fire as if surprised, like he had become so lost in his past that he forgot he was in the present. The others don’t move, and guilt swirls in my stomach at the haunted air in the room. This is my fault, I’m the one that asked them to elaborate. . . maybe I shouldn’t have. But on the other hand, I feel like I need to know.
“We didn’t feed for thirty days and thirty nights, nearly killing ourselves in the process. We had crawled away to a cave to die, our despair a heavy blanket on our shoulders,” he replies, mouth turned down in a deep frown. “But our father found us somehow, giving us his own blood to sustain us long enough so we may live.”
I pull my brows together, trying and failing to see how they were cursed. “So, how’d you find out about the curse?”
Uriel shrugs, eyes still trained on the dancing flames in front of us. “The women found us, over and over again. We met them no matter what, even when tasting their blood that was so like the first brought us utter despair. That was the first time I’ve ever felt love, when meeting Melisandre, no matter what she’s like now.” He pauses, finally turning his eyes toward me, and I suck in a breath at the tortured look on his face. “I’ve never felt something so horrendous and perfect in all my life, and we’ve been forced to endure it, to cherish it, ever since.”
“And you’ve never taken another life?” I whisper, our eyes still locked.
“Never,” he utters like a prayer, lips barely moving.
Relief swoops through my chest so strongly that I collapse against the back of my chair, coffee sloshing in my cup. I don’t know why that tiny detail was so important to me, but it is. No matter who they are, royalty or not, I don’t condone the killing of anyone or anything for blood. Especially when we have such an easy solution now with the blood donation centers in every coven. The men turn to stare at me, worry and nerves plain on their face as they await my next words. My mouth goes dry, and I lean forward to set my cup down in an attempt to give myself more time to think. What am I supposed to say to that? That I forgive them? That I love them despite it? I have no idea what to say, so I opt for total honesty.
“Thank you for telling me the truth,” I murmur.
“Of course,” Michael replies, eyes darting across my face as if he can work out some hidden meaning between my words.
“Is this love?” I blurt out, confusion swirling in my chest. “This odd connection and my every waking nerve ending craving your touch?”
Raph scoots forward to grasp my hand in between his own. “No, that’s the curse. Love comes after if you allow it to. If you want it to.”
That’s the question, isn’t it? Do I want it to?
Chapter Six
Four hours later I’m squeezed into an overwhelmingly large ball gown the color of fallen leaves with makeup to match. This time, standing outside the grand double doors of the main hall, I don’t feel the urge to vomit onto the marble floor. I’m beginning to get used to this life, even only after a month. Probably because I was destined for it, or rather, cursed for it. The thought sends a pang of unease through my chest, especially when I think about what Raph told me after the original story.
We’ve tried avoiding it, embracing it, even refusing to drink from them for lifetimes. Nothing changed, nothing worked, we still fell in love over and over again only to lose them.
The complete sadness in that sentence, in the tone of his voice when he said it, will haunt me until the day I die. If they’ve tried for over a thousand years to break the curse, who am I to think I can break the curse? Just the thought of all the human lifespans they’ve lived leaves me feeling small and insignificant. I know that’s not how they were trying to make me feel, but it’s still the result of that conversation. Now that I know more about it, about their past, I feel less sure not more. What a mess.
“Ready?” Eden asks, shaking me out of my thoughts.
I nod, squaring my shoulders. “Ready.”
The doors open as if on a phantom wind, creaking slightly in the deafening silence. Next come the trumpets, blaring my arrival so all know to turn and watch me descend the staircase. The vampires of Raphael’s coven are more subdued in nature, older, almost if the town landscape I saw when we arrived was any sort of indication. They watch silently, eyes level, almost bored. Someone announces me as I begin to make my way down the steps, holding up the heavy folds at the front of my dress so that I don’t trip and die.
My eyes rove over the patrons, looking for any sort of familiar face. Jade is there with Carden, standing close to the
dais, looking regal and beautiful in an emerald green gown. Carden dressed to match her, a brilliant tunic in the same shade that brings out his eyes. It sends a pang through my chest, closing up my throat, so I look away only to find the eyes of Melisandre. Shock flows through me at the fact that she made the trip here as well, seemingly following either I or the lords from place to place. Her gown is a striking shade of silver that shimmers with each of her movements. It’s a stark contrast to the fashion around her, but in an elevated sort of way, as if she’s timeless in a room full of spinning clocks.
Our eyes burn into each other until I’m on the floor and can no longer see in the sea of people. Once the spell is broken, I shake my head, curls bouncing from side to side as I approach the bottom of the dais, not hesitating to climb it once I arrive. Raph steps down to help me up the stairs, ever the gentleman. I shoot him a small smile that he returns, squeezing my hand for good measure. Then he turns to the crowd, a broad grin surfacing.
“Welcome precious citizens of Scionset! Thank you so much for coming to celebrate the arrival of our glorious new queen. Now, revel in the drinks and music, for I am feeling especially generous tonight,” he booms, his voice ringing with a level of authority that I’ve never heard in his tone before.
The crowd roars, raising their glasses in salute as the music begins again. This time it’s not classical, it’s a rock band. Perhaps I was wrong when I assumed that these vampires are older and more refined. Raph leads me to my throne right next to his, but before allowing me to sit, he spins and dips me to plant a chaste kiss on my lips for the crowd. They scream with glee at the display, further proving just how rowdy they are.
When he lowers me to my chair, my head is spinning with desire and a zing of adrenaline. I’ve seen Raph flirty, even coy, but never like this. Never outgoing and full of mischief. Is this the type of ruler he is? It’s strangely alluring to me. We lock eyes as he sits down, and I finally notice the crown atop his head. It’s golden and brilliant, a tangle of carved gilded leaves around his head. I nearly gasp at the beauty of it, wishing that my own tiara was similar.
Blood Deception: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (Royal Covens Book 2) Page 5
