Thrall of the Vampire King (Blood Fire Saga Book 4) Bella Klaus (little red riding hood ebook free .txt) 📖

“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 into 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