“It’s none of my business,” I said, feeling stupid for vomiting my thoughts all over him.
“You’re holding my cock. I think we’re past worrying about keeping out of each other’s business,” he said dryly.
I allowed a corner of my lip to curl up, but I couldn’t quite muster a smile. “So you haven’t been with thousands of women?”
“No, I have not.” He didn’t offer me further clarification, and I was left to wonder if that meant he’d been with hundreds or dozens then.
“And I’m not going to hurt you?”
There was a pause followed by the ghost of a smirk. “I’d say it’s doubtful.”
“I still don’t know what I’m doing,” I whispered.
Julian’s hand closed over mine and guided it up and down.
“That’s it,” he encouraged me.
That couldn’t be it. It was too easy. “What else?”
His eyebrow rose as he cast a glance down at me. “You can use your mouth.”
A new throb started between my legs as I considered this advice. I had a lifetime of licking ice cream cones behind me. That had to count for something.
I ran my tongue over my lower lip, then wrapped my mouth over him. Julian sucked in a sharp breath, and his hand shot out, gripping my hair in a loose hold. I flattened my tongue and drew it up his hard shaft, circling it over his tip before looking up at him. “I don’t know if I’m doing this right.”
“It feels fine,” he said in a strained voice, peeking down at me with one eye.
“Fine?” I repeated.
“Christ, it feels fucking amazing, okay?”
I took that as a sign that I should keep going. It was easier than I thought to take his full length in my mouth, so long as I focused on what I wanted most at this moment: to please him. I wanted to make him feel as good as he had just made me. I wanted to cool the fire that blazed in our veins.
He groaned, the sound catching the attention of the space between my legs. I wished he hadn’t refused to sleep with me. What would it feel like to have this powerful man inside me? I swallowed at the thought, my mouth closing hard over his dick, which earned me another strangled groan of pleasure.
“Oh my god, how are you doing that?” he asked. His fingers were massaging my head, encouraging me. “I’m going to come in your sweet mouth if you don’t stop.”
But I didn’t want to stop.
Still, I knew very little about what to expect. When the first heat of his release hit my throat, I responded with a rough, choked swallow. I struggled to keep up as he emptied himself, his hips bucking slightly with his climax.
When I finally sat back on my heels, my eyes were wet with tears from the effort. Julian looked down, his rapture quickly shifting from bliss to worry.
“Are you all right, pet?”
I was taken aback by the concern. My mind couldn’t understand it, but my body seemed to understand something I couldn’t, sending the desire building in me bubbling over. I nodded, barely stopping myself from reaching out for him again. I didn’t want his blood to cool. I didn’t want to leave this bedroom or his body.
He dropped to his knees, mistaking my silence, and took my face in his hands.
“I’m fine,” I whispered, worried that saying more might betray the turmoil I felt. Our arrangement was temporary. No matter how good it felt to be here with him, I knew there was a deadline for our relationship. “I’m tired.”
His eyebrows knitted as if considering my explanation before his face relaxed. “Let me help you sleep.”
He drew my body up into the bed, tugging my gown off entirely and exposing the parts of me he’d yet to discover. Then he spent the night sucking and kissing, as though he couldn’t sate the longing between us. He was always careful to keep our bodies separate, even as I offered myself to him over and over, until sleep finally claimed me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
JULIAN
I watched her sleep from the shadows, waiting until her breathing slowed to languid waves. I stayed there for moments–or hours. Time ceased to interest me. Given how much I’d screwed up tonight, it was reassuring to see her at peace. But I didn’t trust myself to let her sleep if I stayed in bed. A naked Thea was far too tempting a thing to resist. Instead, I lingered, not wanting her to wake up alone. Then again, finding a vampire hovering over the bed and watching you sleep was creepy. In the end, I opted to slip out and deal with my mother.
The lights in the corridor had been dimmed to mimic the flickering glow of candlelight. My mother, not fond of having to find matches, had never relinquished her preference for firelight. Even with the modern heating and cooling systems that had been installed decades earlier, hearths could be found blazing day or night, summer or winter. It wasn’t a matter of warmth, since vampires required none. It was a matter of habit, a nod to our past lives. But despite the remnants of the past, I wouldn’t consider my mother sentimental. She didn’t have time for it.
Tradition was another story, as I’d been reminded earlier. I’d left that conversation enraged, which, in hindsight, might have made my blood-lust a bit worse than usual.
When Sabine found out Thea had stayed the night she was going to be livid. It was better I told her, before a member of the household staff. There were still partygoers lingering about in various states of undress as I made my way to the lower levels, unwilling or unable to waste even a minute before sunrise. By dawn everyone would leave. It would be safer to speak to my mother when the house was empty, but I couldn’t risk waiting.
I found her sitting quietly in the morning room, watching the world through her window. Sunrise was still a ways off, so the sky felt heavier and darker than when I’d taken Thea to bed a few hours ago.
She didn’t look up. Sabine had traded her party attire for a silk lounge set and had taken off her makeup. Even without the added glamour she was beautiful. When we were children, she used to tell my sister and me that at least three wars had been started over her–before my father won her heart. Now I knew better. She hadn’t been at the center of those wars because of the choices of other men. She’d been there because she started them.
“Good morning,” I said, staying near the door and out of Sabine’s immediate reach. Keeping a room between us–or preferably a country or two–when disagreeing was a wise tactic. A servant misinterpreted my pause and hurried over to offer me a selection of breakfast items ranging from pastries to fresh blood. “No, thank you.”
“You should eat,” Sabine announced as the man disappeared from the room. “Or have you found other ways to sate your thirst?”
“Thea is my girlfriend,” I reminded her. “I attended with her.”
“Girlfriend? Cortigiana? Gold digger? It’s all the same thing.”