Summers, Jordan (11 page)

“I shall see you there,” he murmured, his voice husky. “I’ll
send my carriage around to pick you and your family up.”

Lily opened her mouth for what was sure to be a
protest. Before she could utter a single word, Richard released her and
strolled back to his carriage. His heart pounded in his chest. Tonight he’d
moved one step closer to having Lily for himself. He recalled the kiss in the
conservatory. Richard had been so enthralled, utterly frenzied, that he’d been
unable to stop himself from taking a tiny taste, and nicked her bottom lip with
his fangs.

The puncture brought forth a single drop of blood,
setting his insides on fire, confirming his most fervored hopes and fears—she
was his bloodmate. He’d sucked her lip between his own, before quickly sealing
the wound with a swipe of his tongue. She’d tasted like everything he’d
imagined, sweetness, life, utter ambrosia to his senses. For a few moments he’d
been sated and at the same time utterly intoxicated. He hadn’t felt that
sensation since he’d been mortal.

For a moment he’d feared losing control. He shuddered
as he recalled that very thing happening ten years ago. Richard had practically
attacked one of his lovers after accidentally nipping her mouth. His fangs
lengthened, triggered by the blood. The sight sent the woman into screaming
fits. She’d gone around town declaring him a monster, before Richard had a
chance to distort her memories.

It had taken him two years before he’d been ready to
return to
London
and the high
season. He couldn’t afford to make the same mistake with Lily. He had to keep
his fangs off her long enough to get her to the chapel.

Despite folklore, if invited, he had no problem walking
into a house of God.

With her blood zinging through his veins it would be
difficult if not impossible, to be in her presence without being tempted for more.
She’d succeeded in merely whetting his appetite. He licked his lips reliving
the erotic taste in his mind. He had to feed.

* * * * *

Lily’s head spun as Sims, her family’s butler, opened
the door for her to enter. She swept into the foyer and straight up the stairs
to her room. Lord Lyon seemed to have the ability to seep into her mind, her
body, overwhelming her senses to the point she didn’t know where she ended and
he began.

He’d been exceedingly polite during their ride this
evening making no untoward moves. Yet he did press subtly forward, not allowing
her to decline his offer of the use of his carriage for tomorrow night’s ball.
Though she knew she should not, part of Lily really wanted to like the rogue.
His touch had brought tingles to her skin, igniting in her feelings that she’d
kept buried away. Richard’s daring behavior spoke to the chained woman inside
her, who longed to break free of the prison that was fast becoming her life.

Lily pressed her fingers to her temple. Her thoughts
were nonsensical. There would be no breaking free, nor agreeing to his proposal
or lack thereof. What had he thought her reaction would be? That perhaps she’d
drop to her knees, thankful that someone wanted to marry her. Lily railed at
the thought. She had spent a lifetime being manipulated by a rake, otherwise
known as her father, she wasn’t about to continue forward into married life
with one. Tonight she was definitely going to need Tildy to fix her a sleeping
draught. Without it she feared she’d find no rest. Lily entered her room and
shut the door.

A welcoming fire glowed in the hearth warming the
sudden chill that had crept upon her skin. She let out a long sigh and slumped
against the door, her mind a whirl of emotion. A tap from the other side caused
her to jump. Lily spun and opened the door, half expecting to see Lord Lyon
standing on the other side. Which was ridiculous, a gentleman wouldn’t dare be
caught visiting a lady’s bedchamber.

Tildy stood wide-eyed, staring at Lily, an innocent
expression masking her face. “Beggin’ your pardon, my lady. I’ve come to help
you turn in for the night.”

Lily’s face warmed as she recalled her previous
thoughts. “Of course, do come in. I’ll be sure to fill you in on the details.”
Lily covered the short distance to her mirrored vanity and sat.

Tildy giggled. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to, I know you well enough to
recognize that look. You’re practically bursting to find out how the carriage
ride went.” Lily laughed, as Tildy nodded her admittance. “Tonight I think I’m
going to need one of your special sleep draughts.”

Tildy bobbed a curtsy. “I’ll help you out of your gown
then go to the kitchen to fetch you the tonic.”

“Very good.” Lily smiled. The bit of the tension she’d
been feeling earlier had started to fade at the thought of getting a good night’s
rest.

“So,” Tildy asked, as she unlaced Lily’s gown.

Lily pursed her mouth. “He acted a gentleman.”

Tildy frowned. “So nothing happened.”

Lily’s lips quirked. “I didn’t say that, exactly.”

“Ooh,” Tildy squealed, her gaze glued to Lily’s
reflection. “Tell me all.”

“There’s not much to tell really.” Lily pulled at the
pins holding her hair up as she tried to decide how much to tell. “We had a
lovely carriage ride. He kissed me and then told me he’d announce the banns
signaling our wedding.”

The laces fell from Tildy’s hands and her mouth dropped
open. “That’s nothing? You’re engaged and you call that nothing.”

Lily shrugged. “I have no intention of marrying Lord
Lyon. It’s just going to take more time than I’d anticipated convincing him to
withdraw his suit.”

Tildy smiled. “The kiss was that good, eh?”

Lily shot her a look in the mirror. Her cheeks heating
to a raging glow. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I’ve seen that look before.”

“What look?” Lily stared at her reflection, trying to
discover what Tildy thought she’d seen. Other than a slight flush to her
cheeks, a bit of a faraway glimmer in her eyes, she appeared no different.

Tildy patted Lily’s shoulder, then nodded knowingly.

“Are you going to tell me about the look or not? I’m
counting on your council.”

Her maid’s smile widened. “I think it’s best if you
discover it for yourself. That’s the way things are meant to be.”

“Ugh! You are impossible.” Lily narrowed her eyes, but
couldn’t hold the scolding expression.

“As you say, my lady.” Tildy slipped the gown from Lily
and hung it in the armoire. “I’ll get you that tonic now.”

* * * * *

Richard turned his carriage down the familiar street
leading to Madam Josephine’s. He’d call on Rose again tonight, to assuage his
need. But he longed for the day when he could approach Lady Lily and she’d bare
her neck willingly, accepting his fangs and his cock with ease. The thought of
drinking deeply from Lily had Richard shifting in his seat, his shaft thick
with arousal.

Richard growled, if he was anything but a gentleman he’d
pay her a visit tonight. But he was a gentleman, so he wouldn’t. At least not
yet. She needed time to adjust to him. Richard would have to take it slow when
handling the lady. She was innocent in every sense of the word and needed to be
broken in. He smiled. He lived for the day he’d be able to take her in his
arms, make love to her all night, and feast upon her senses.

Hopefully he wouldn’t have long to wait.

* * * * *

Rose was on her hands and knees with her ass in the air
when Richard entered the room. He stopped to admire the view, then he imagined
Lily in the same position on the bed and his breath caught in his throat. She’d
be a vision of ivory. The globes of her bottom would be nicely rounded and
firm. Her golden curls would glisten between her parted thighs, awaiting his
thick cock. Richard shifted, trying to alleviate the tightness in his breeches.
He stepped forward and ran a finger along Rose’s crack.

She moaned, spreading her legs even wider.

Richard swallowed hard. “You like that don’t you, Rose?”

She bucked her hips in response. He smiled, knowing
exactly what she liked. He’d made sure he’d brought her pleasure each and every
time, considering it a fair exchange for the blood she supplied him.

Richard continued to stroke, drawing moisture from her
cunt, while circling her brown puckered back entrance with one finger. Rose
trembled in anticipation. He dropped to his knees behind her, spreading her
cheeks wide, and then began to lick her moist folds. She groaned and pushed
back, greedy for his touch. Richard plunged his tongue into her pussy at the
same time as he pushed a finger inside her muscled orifice. Her back hole
gripped him, drawing him deeper.

He started a steady rhythm of in and out while he
sought Rose’s clit with his mouth and tongue. She screamed when he found it,
her body shuddering. Richard increased his speed matching stroke for stroke.
Rose writhed in front of him, whimpering with need, her juices running from her
body. He closed his eyes and pictured Lily.

What would her delicate pussy taste like? Would she be
musky and warm or sweet and tender? He imagined the soft petals of her woman’s
lips as they flushed with blood from arousal. Richard groaned and felt his
fangs elongate. His cock damn near burst a button on his trousers as it grew
impossibly harder.

He imagined the feel of his tongue sliding into her
tight channel, preparing it for the invasion to come. He’d make sure her juices
oozed from her pussy before deflowering her. She’d be rocked by so many orgasms
she’d beg him to fuck her. Richard growled in frustration, vibrating Rose’s
clit, as he envisioned slipping inside of Lily’s feminine vise.

Rose sobbed, then leaned back, driving him deeper into
her body.

Soon the room filled with Rose’s panting moans and the
sound of him tonguing her. Richard’s cock was close to bursting, if he didn’t
get to bury it inside of Lily soon, he’d go insane. He continued his movements,
imagining it was Lily’s body he plundered, pleasured. Would she let him do
something like this to her? Or would she refuse? Richard looked forward to
finding out.

Rose came on a keening cry, her body quaking and
shuddering, but Richard kept lapping. He nipped her clit and sent her into a
second orgasm. She collapsed on the bed face down.

Richard scooted closer, feeling the familiar aching
sensation that came from his fangs when he’d gone without feeding. He spread
Rose’s thighs wider, licked her twice, then sank his teeth in deep. Once again
her blood washed down his parched throat, but the life-giving elixir wasn’t
quite as satisfying as it had been before. Richard continued to drink his fill,
trying to figure out exactly what had changed. Rose seemed no different to him,
yet he couldn’t get past the feeling of dissatisfaction.

He frowned. Had his feelings for Rose changed? No. She
was still his friend, yet discontent lingered. His chest clenched. What if Lily
denied him? Could he continue seeing Rose, if he felt no interest in continuing
with their agreement of pleasure for blood? Richard didn’t think so.

Then it hit him, stopping his heart. The reason Rose no
longer quenched his need was because he’d tasted Lily.

Lily’s sweet blood now flowed through his senses,
drawing him away from all others, luring him back to the sanctuary of her body.
Richard closed the pinpricks on Rose’s leg and then quickly paid her. Stirrings
of guilt flitted through his mind. He was no longer being fair to his old
friend. He wished more than anything Rose would leave this place and find
someone special of her own, a man who could not only pleasure her, but love
her. He’d buy her a house and anything else she wanted as long as she released
him from the agreement.

Richard didn’t wait around for Rose to recover. He knew
without fail she would. Instead he left Josephine’s in haste, only one thing on
his mind—getting to Lily. He had to have her, taste her innocence. Could wait
no longer. Without her knowledge, Lily had inadvertently started a fire in his
blood that only she could extinguish.

Chapter Six

Richard drove past Lily’s home, his nerves riding near
the surface of his skin. He’d promised himself he would not interfere with her
decision-making when it came to accepting his proposal or him, but he hadn’t
said anything about using a little gentle persuasion. Richard knew he split
hairs but he didn’t care. He needed to be near her, feel her skin, touch her
lips, and taste her essence.

He stopped several blocks from her house and tethered
the horses. Richard faded into the darkness, his movements a blur. He reached
the back of Lily’s home and began to levitate, an ability that took much
concentration. He was sure beyond a doubt which window was hers, because he
could smell her sweet blood through the slight crack. Richard entered the room
like silence itself. Scanning the home for sounds, he detected nothing but the
cuckoo clock in the library below.

Lily slept cocooned in thick white sheets, behind heavy
navy bed curtains. Richard pulled back the material to better view his future
wife. Her expression remained peaceful and relaxed. Long golden hair framed her
face giving her an almost angelic- like appearance. He reached for her thoughts
and found none.

Richard frowned, and then picked up the glass on the
cherry wood table at the side of her bed. He sniffed. The remnants of a sleep
draught assailed him. He put the glass back on the side table and smiled. If
she was under the influence of a tonic he wouldn’t have to use any kind of
control on her.

He slid the covers from Lily’s still form, slowly
revealing her body to his hungry eyes. She murmured and stretched, pulling her
night rail tight over her plump breasts. His breath caught. Richard’s gaze
riveted to her rose-colored nipples protruding beneath the nearly sheer
material. Before he could stop himself he leaned over and flicked his tongue
across first one crest and then the other. They beaded even tighter.