Thrall of the Vampire King (Blood Fire Saga Book 4) by Bella Klaus (elon musk reading list .txt) 📕

I bristled at the implication that there were other girls, then mentally slapped myself upside the head. He was still a preternatural vampire, still hungry, and still wanting to drain me of my blood. Who cared if he talked about women in the plural?

Valentine was under Kresnik’s control. Kresnik, who was now inhabiting the body of my birth father and had just handed me to Valentine as a reward for good work. By anyone’s rules, I was his to do with as he wished. If I was going to survive this encounter, I needed to give Valentine an incentive to keep me alive.

“Alright.” Licking my lips, I shifted on the bed and pulled out my gown from beneath my calves.

Valentine’s eyes tracked the movement, and excitement rippled through my insides. Right now, he was the right kind of predator. With a bit of dirty talk, I might be able to get through this without being bitten… much.

“Are you going to help me out of this gown?” I said with a pout.

He climbed onto the bed and slipped his hands beneath the cotton fabric. His fingers brushed over my bare thighs, sending tingles of pleasure to my sensitive bundle of nerves. A whimper caught in the back of my throat as my core muscles clenched. Why did his touch have such a seductive effect in the face of danger?

Why couldn’t I just stop trying to analyze things and focus on pleasing the vampire? His hands were now halfway up my thighs. With fingers that wouldn’t stop trembling, I unfastened the buttons on his enforcer jacket.

Satisfied rumbles reverberated across his chest, sounding halfway like purrs. Some of the tightness around my lungs loosened, and I slid my hands over the cotton of his uniform shirt. The flesh beneath my fingers yielded at my touch as I skimmed over the contours of his chest and the curve and dips of his tight abs. Valentine was magnificent, even in death.

Sending his soul a silent apology for what I was about to do with his body, I pulled the shirt from the waistband of his pants and slid my fingers over his abs.

“You feel so good,” I murmured.

By now, Valentine’s hands had slid to the top of my thighs, and he pulled me up to rise to my knees. His hands kneaded the globes of my ass, and he sucked the flesh around my jugular vein between his lips.

“Open your legs,” he growled. “I want to feel your arousal.”

I melted into his touch, parting my thighs a little further. Valentine’s fingers slid between my slick folds and glided the short path from my opening to my clit, which swelled and pulsed with need.

His fingers made tight circles over my sensitive bundle of nerves, and pleasure swirled around my core, making my muscles clench and twitch. I shuddered against his chest, wanting more, needing it, but I bit down on my bottom lip and whimpered.

For the next few moments, he pleasured my clit with touches light enough to stoke the flames of my desire but without the pressure to set me alight. I slid my hands beneath his shirt, over his abs and up his nipples, making him hiss in pleasure.

Those clever fingers continued to tease, squeeze, make me yearn for release until my core quivered and moans spilled from my lips. Never once did he increase the pressure, and he continued the sweet torture until moisture trickled down my inner thighs.

I rested my head against his shoulders, panting and quivering with a mix of frustration and pleasure. What was he doing to me? The Valentine I loved always gave me exactly what I needed. Apart from this one. Was he pushing me to offer my blood in exchange for relief?

“Valentine,” I said with a moan. “Please.”

“Tell me what you need,” he replied, his smoky voice curling within my core.

Warm triumph filtered through the frustration and inflated my chest. Despite everything, Valentine still held me as precious. Or maybe this slow pleasuring was just muscle memory and his predatory instincts would eventually rise.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I said through panting breaths, “Make love to me.” I licked my lips. “I need you, now.”

“How much?”

My hands slid down to his crotch, where a thick erection pulsed against my fingertips. I slid my fingers over the huge organ, swearing that it swelled even further under my touch. “I’m aching for you. I need you inside me right now.”

His laugh rumbled against my chest. “Be careful what you wish for, Morata.”

Before I could ask what he meant, the tearing of fabric filled the air, and the gown that he’d gathered around my hips fell off my shoulders. A draft swirled around my naked body.

Valentine’s gaze dropped to my nipples, and he ran the tip of his tongue over his fangs. “Those look good enough to bite.”

Alarm spiked through my chest. “Don’t bite—”

The air shifted, and I landed flat on my back, sinking into the mattress as Valentine delved between my folds. His growls rumbled over my trembling thighs, and I bit down on my lip, hoping he’d just been teasing.

His tongue delved into my core, traveled across my folds and over my clit, where it made circling motions that mirrored what he did earlier with his fingertips.

An onslaught of sensations swept my senses as he licked and sucked and flicked his tongue over my nub, pushing me toward a precipice of pleasure. I dug my heels into the mattress and shuddered. This wasn’t so scary. Actually, it was fantastic.

Valentine quickened his pace, treating my sex to a flurry of open-mouthed kisses that made my eyes roll to the back of my head. I bucked and shuddered under his touch, crying out for more.

“So delicious,” he murmured from between my legs. “So wet.”

Another moan slipped from my lips. “Please!”

He parted my legs as far as they would go, laying me completely bare. Valentine’s satisfied growl made my spine tingle, and the muscles of