by Bella Klaus
The other girl crawled under the table and gave me a nudge on the arm. “I normally just go with the flow. Can you share some of your advanced fellatio tips?”
I shook my head. “Sorry, I only know what works on Valentine.”
Martika settled between Kresnik’s spread legs and slid her hands up his thighs. I snatched my gaze away and crawled into position, resting my palms on Valentine’s legs.
He reached down, placing a comforting hand on my head, and stroked my hair like I was his cat. Whatever Kresnik said next made them both laugh, and even more heat bloomed across my cheeks.
If I choked or clamped my jaws around Valentine’s dick, Kresnik would figure out he was lying to protect me and—
Shaking off those thoughts, I settled myself onto my knees and reached a trembling hand towards Valentine’s crotch. My fingers brushed against the hot organ straining against the fabric of his tuxedo pants, helping me relax a fraction. At least I wouldn’t have to work hard to get him excited.
I pressed my lips against his clothed erection, trying to work out a game plan and recalling every porn video and juicy detail Beatrice had tossed my way over the years. Valentine threaded his fingers through my hair and slid further down his seat.
My interpretation of the action was that I needed to get to work. Now. I slid my fingers to his cummerbund, pulled up its pleats, and unbuttoned Valentine’s fly. His hardness lengthened and thickened with my fumbling, making me struggle to pull down the zipper.
“Fuck!” Kresnik bellowed from the other side of the table, making my heart jump to the back of my throat. I glanced up to find Martika already bobbing her head up and down his crotch.
“Shit,” I muttered.
How much did I want to bet that the old pervert had already pulled himself out of his pants before she’d even gotten under the table? I shook off that thought and focussed on Valentine, who seemed to expand with each passing moment.
With the most careful of movements, I unzipped Valentine’s fly, and his erection sprang free. It was long and thick and rigid, with prominent veins that radiated heat. A bead of precum glistened from his bulbous red head, making my mouth water.
Heat pooled between my legs. Pushing my thighs together to curb my arousal, I licked my lips. A hot breath fanned over his arousal, making Valentine hiss. I glanced up, meeting his red eyes though the glass tabletop. He swallowed, his lips parting, and nodded for me to continue.
I leaned forward, taking in his masculine scent, and traced the tip of my tongue over his glistening slit. His bitter tang coated my tongue, making my folds slick. Was this what he meant when he said I would get something savory? Valentine’s powerful thighs tensed and tightened around my shoulders, sending a thrill through my core. Maybe this wouldn’t be so difficult.
Wrapping my fingers around his hot and hard and heavy length, I ran my tongue along its underside and swirled it around the tip, making sure to lap up every ounce of moisture. I’d watched enough pornography to know what to do and listened with rapt attention to Beatrice’s juiciest tales. Technically, I knew what was expected, but if Kresnik was inspecting my technique, I hoped he wouldn’t find it lacking.
His bulbous head felt like velvet over my lips, and I parted them to swirl my tongue where it met the shaft. Valentine pulsed and shuddered under my touch, stroking his fingers through my scalp, encouraging me to keep going.
The striptease music played on, and the audience clapped a steady beat. I tightened my grip on Valentine’s length and slipped his thick head into my mouth. His legs trembled around my body, and a tingle of excitement settled into my core.
Gripping him tightly around the base, I pumped up and down his pulsing shaft while taking him in inch by expanding inch.
Valentine’s precum continued flowing, making the pulse between my legs pound harder than my heart. I hummed around my mouthful, and Valentine groaned, sending a rush of heat and moisture to my folds.
Even with my hand around the middle of his shaft, his thick head bumped against the back of my throat—he was that big. Valentine held still, allowing me to set my pace.
“She’s far too slow,” Kresnik said, his voice dampening the mood faster than a bucket of cold water.
“I trained her to draw out the pleasure, My Lord,” Valentine drawled.
Kresnik scoffed.
In my mind, I told him to bugger off and focus on his own blowjob. Pushing his presence aside, I bobbed my head up and down, making sure to give the underside a firm lick as I rose. Each time I swiped my tongue over that spot, Valentine made a tiny shudder, so I continued laving at him until his legs trembled.
Out of the corner of my eye, Martika picked up her pace, and Kresnik let out a low moan. I exhaled a long breath, finally able to relax and work on my technique.
After a little experimentation, I worked out a rhythm that suited us both, with the occasional pause on the upstroke to lap around its magnificent head.
Valentine moaned.
The tingle between my legs returned with an intensity I couldn’t ignore. My core heated to a boiling point, and my nub throbbed for attention. Parting my thighs, I slipped my fingers beneath my dress to ease my aching need.
I was hot and wet and aching for Valentine, with a clit that wouldn’t stop pulsing beneath my fingertips. Not breaking my stride over Valentine’s arousal, I stroked firm circles around the needy bundle of nerves, bringing Valentine deeper into my throat.
Pressure built around my core, and my fingers strummed a frantic beat in time with my galloping heart. I was so close, and from the rocking movement of Valentine’s hips, so was he.
As I caressed myself to orgasm, Valentine shuddered, releasing jet upon jet of creamy, warm fluid. My throat convulsed, trying to swallow it all, but a few drops spilled from my lips.
Afterward, I rested my head against Valentine’s thigh, breathing hard and swallowing all traces of his cum. He continued to stroke my hair as though I was his pet. The striptease music changed to a ballad about a woman rejecting the advances of her returning ex, telling him she would survive.
My heart sank. Valentine’s soul would be mortified to discover what his body had just made me do, and horrified to know that I’d enjoyed every moment of it.
Dipping my head, I pressed both hands to my cheeks and squeezed my eyes shut. What on earth was happening to me, and what would people think?
A deep moan from the other side of the table set my teeth on edge. I raised my head to find Martika’s head still bobbing up and down between Kresnik’s legs. He grabbed the back of her head, holding her steady, and he jerked in and out of her at a violent pace. My lips pressed into a tight line. Everything about this man was violent and ruthless. No wonder he’d been dragged into Hell.
Valentine’s fingers threaded through my hair and massaged my scalp. Maybe it was a sign to mind my own business. I didn’t particularly want to see the Light Lord slamming himself down a girl’s throat, so I let my eyes flutter shut and placed my head back on his leg.
Kresnik’s howls drowned out the singer’s insistence that she would survive, making me clench my teeth. What a show off. Everyone in the club was probably wondering what was going on behind the privacy charm and which poor cow was servicing his needy dick.
A shudder ran down my spine. What if they thought it was me? I knew how rumors worked. Karsten and Ellora would conveniently forget Martika’s existence and tell everyone that I sucked off the preternatural Vampire King before moving on to his extra-loud companion. Then every taunt they’d ever made about me would be true.
I shook off those thoughts. Valentine was under Kresnik’s control, who had just turned a dozen innocent people into preternaturals and was building a zombie army from human prisoners. This was no time to worry about my reputation.
The woman stopped singing, and the pianist played the final bars of the song, leaving Kresnik moaning and panting over the audience’s polite applause.
Martika poked me in the back. I turned and m
et her laughing gray eyes. She moved her clenched fist back and forth in front of her open mouth, miming a blowjob. I jerked my head away and frowned. Did she think this was the first year of the Academy?
“That was a pleasant evening,” Kresnik said as the applause died. “We should do it again.”
“I look forward to the next encounter, My Lord,” Valentine replied in his smoothest voice.
Clenching my teeth, I scrambled up to the seat to find an opaque bubble around the booth. There wouldn’t be a next time because I intended to do everything I could to restore my magic and be long gone from the cult of Kresnik.
His chair scraped back, and he rose from his seat. Martika turned to me and wiggled her fingers in a wave. I gave her a tight smile and waved back, wondering if she would feel so pleased with herself if she’d seen what Kresnik had done earlier in the infirmary.
A long sigh escaped my lungs. I needed to save all my animosity for Kresnik and for those who knew his plans and decided to resurrect him anyway. And for the members of the Supernatural Council who had persecuted fire users so they had no choice but to join the Flame.
Valentine eased me out from under the table and back into the dazzling red lights of Gourmande. I stumbled to my feet, my head spinning and my legs still shaky from my climax. He placed a hand on my hip, holding me steady as I regained my balance.
“Has he gone?” I glanced over my shoulder to find the singer, an ebony-skinned woman wearing gold lamé, stepping off the stage and into the booth of a pale man who reminded me of the Mage King. A new set of girls walked onstage, clad in top hats, coattails and sparkly bikini bottoms.
“Don’t look around.” Valentine pulled me onto his lap. “Our Lord is now sitting at the other end of the room.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Doing what?”
“Canvassing supporters.” Valentine placed a kiss on my left cheek, then on my right before sliding his hands down my back.
Squirming, I tried to ignore his gentle touches to focus on what Kresnik might be doing in a place like this. “You said this place was just a burlesque bar.”
“It is to the humans, but the supernatural dining room is where human and supernatural performers are on the menu.” He adjusted my legs so that I straddled his lap with my back facing the stage.
“The patrons are vampires?” I asked.
“Every type of supernatural who consumes humans is welcome,” he replied. “Our Lord believes they will be our biggest supporters.”
My gaze darted from left to right, but all I saw were walls of the other booths. Supernatural vampires fed on small quantities of blood. Depending on their species, faeries and demons fed on emotions and sexual energy and life-force. I guess shifters that could turn into predators could technically eat human flesh. The thought of all those dangerous beings in such close quarters sent a shudder running down my spine.
Valentine reached across the table and produced a glass of a sparkling champagne-colored liquid that released citrus-scented bubbles. “Drink this.”
I took a tiny sip, and the taste of lemon flooded my mouth. The liquid slid down my throat, filling me with a burst of sparkling magic. It was some kind of energy drink, which was exactly what I needed to be alert in a place like this.
“What is it?”
“Quell,” he replied. “A substance supernaturals use against others to stop them from fighting back when it’s time to feed.”
I drew back and wrinkled my nose. Why on earth would he give me a magical suppressant? Valentine cupped the back of my head and brought the glass to my lips. I gulped down the rest of the drink, and rolled my shoulders, feeling like I’d just downed four shots of espresso and a bar of Green and Blacks.
“Can we leave now?” I asked.
His eyes sparkled, looking like they reflected the lights of a disco ball. “Not until I’ve eaten.”
My stomach dropped. “What?”
Valentine’s lips spread into a grin of lengthening fangs. “You’ve had your meal. It’s only fair that I get one, too.”
Heat rose to my cheeks, and my heart thudded hard enough to rattle my ribcage. I dropped my gaze to his bowtie. How did he know I had swallowed? I placed my hands on Valentine’s chest to give me the leverage to launch myself off his lap. His chest rumbled in a purr. Struggling against him was only inciting his predator instincts.
“You can eat in the limo,” I said.
His nostrils flared. “Your scent has changed. Are you nervous about being taken where everyone can hear you?”
“Valentine,” I hissed.
“Relax.” He brushed a lock of hair off my face and tucked it behind my ear. “No one can see you ride me while I feed.”
My throat dried, and I shifted on his lap, only to brush against something hard and pulsing. I glanced down to find his erection protruding from the pants of his tuxedo. Heat flooded my core, and I snapped my gaze to his smirking face.
“This isn’t your first time in a place like this,” I snarled.
His grin widened. “I haven’t visited since meeting you, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Don’t make me sound like I’m being jealous,” I said.
The arm around my waist tightened, and his free hand slipped beneath my dress and snaked up my inner thigh. “When my fingers reach their destination, what will they find?”
I shook my head. “An involuntary reaction. They probably pumped pheromones in the air to make people like me—”
“You enjoyed taking me in your mouth, admit it,” he murmured into my ear. “Mera likes to suck Valentine’s cock.”
My nerve endings caught fire. How dare he talk to me like I was a porn star? I raised a hand to strike at his face, but he caught my wrist and placed a kiss over my pulse point. He circled my hot flesh with his tongue, sending the sensation where my body needed him most.
“There’s a time and a place for these things,” I snarled from between clenched teeth.
“Yet I smelled your arousal the moment you realized what was happening,” he drawled.
“That was…” My tongue darted out to lick my lips, making the corners of Valentine’s mouth tremble. “That was unavoidable.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “The more I push your boundaries, the more delightful you become.”
My breath quickened, and I tried to unpack the implications of his words. Valentine thought I was a prude, and all the time we were together, he’d been frustrated that I didn’t perform like other girls. Alarm tightened around my chest, making my breath shallow. While we were courting, Valentine never asked me to do anything, even when I’d offered, and even when I had asked to learn. What was his preternatural version suggesting?
“I never once refused you,” I said.
Valentine brushed his lips against the column of my neck. “Apparently, my former self was mistaken about you. Beneath your pure and virtuous exterior is a very dirty girl who wants to play.”
“I don’t.” I pushed against his chest, but Valentine held me in place.
He slid his fingers over my sopping slit and released a satisfied hiss. “You’re even wetter than I had imagined.”
There was absolutely no way I could explain my arousal. As his fingers circled my opening, I buried my head, breathing hard into his collar. Of all the predicaments I’d gotten myself into, this had to be the most ridiculous. The pulse behind my clit thudded faster than the tapping feet of the women on stage, and blood roared between my ears, demanding that I shift my hips and bring that finger closer to my swollen nub.
Valentine’s fingers glided a slow path toward my clit. Each time he got to within millimeters of my sensitive spot, he lowered them back to my opening. My nipples puckered, my skin tightened, my jaw clenched.
I knew exactly what he wanted—to make me ache and hunger for him so badly that I stopped caring about being in public and rode his fingers to a climax. Afterward, he could lick them clean and say something taunting. Well, I wouldn’t play in
to his hands.
When I didn’t take the bait, the pad of his finger made agonizingly slow circles over my clit, sending the most pleasant sensations up my belly and down my inner thighs.
It was frustration, torture, ecstasy and, insanity in a single touch. Whatever was happening onstage had to be exciting because the audience clapped in time to a beat. It sounded like a tap solo, with a frantic set of feet dancing in counterpoint to the drums.
Valentine’s slow fingers ignited a frenzy of need between my legs. My core pulsed and clenched, needing to be filled and stretched and pounded. I wouldn’t give in to his teasing. His slow fingers would have to be enough. As soon as my breath quickened, he would get tired of the game and speed up.
I bit down hard on my lip, trying to stifle the urge to buck against him, but his fingers stopped, making my eyes snap open.
Red light filtered through the opaque bubble, bringing out the copper undertones of his skin and exaggerating his high cheekbones, full lips, and strong jaw. He smiled, revealing gleaming fangs that sent a tingle of excitement between my legs.
“What are you doing?” I snapped.
Amusement danced in his eyes. “Waiting for you to participate.”
I clenched my teeth. “Take me somewhere private, and I’ll do anything you want.”
His deep chuckle made my nerve endings sing. “By the time I count to five, you’ll be riding me to the sunset and damning the consequences.”
My eyes narrowed. “You were listening to my conversation with Beatrice in the jacuzzi?”
“One.” His thumb glided down my slit and settled over my opening.
I sniffed, acting like preternatural vampire kings brought me to climax in public every day. “You may as well finish.”
“Two.” His grin broadened. “Get on top of my cock.”
Why was he being so annoying? Kresnik was long gone, probably deep in conversation with some demon or another with Martika perched on his lap. There was absolutely no reason to stick around when we could leave this place at any time.
