Your Coffin or Mine, page 7
“Why didn’t the coercion work on her?”
This has never occurred before, and pondering it leads to several more questions. Why, when I have never cared for humans, do I want to know everything about her? Why does she make my cock stand at attention with hardly a look, and how could she almost make me come in my pants like an untried lad?
I come to the conclusion that she is some sort of siren.
I must get her out of here.
Chapter 10
VLAD
“How hard can it be to withstand one human?” I grumble.
Doyle’s advice of remaining away from her replays in my head, and it frustrates me to no end. The smell of her, so strong in my rooms and the hallways, as if it follows me, caused me to flee to the library. I close my eyes and inhale, grateful her scent is dulled here from the smell of old parchment and books. What has she done to me? The fireplace crackles and pops as I stare out at the falling snow through the arched stone window, brooding over one slight and impudent human.
It has been hours, and my cock is still hard from her kiss, but I refuse to be broken by her.
Never again will I let myself waste away if one human can have this much control over me. It’s been more than a hundred years since I have felt the soft flesh of a woman beneath me, and I can’t argue that Doyle is right.
It would be much simpler to resist her and find some other willing woman to slake my lusts on—at least until this one leaves, returning to wherever the fresh-sunshine hell she came from.
My will of iron is close to crumpling, much like the drained and discarded blood bags at my feet. It would be bearable if the smell of her didn’t permeate the castle, adding fuel to the flames of my foul mood.
I sit scrolling through the hundreds of photos of Aubrey with another man on this Instagram, allowing curiosity to get the better of me. The most recent photo has my back straightening with rage and a growl rumbling from my chest. There are so many of them with Aubrey in his arms, laughing and smiling.
This pathetic human is begging for forgiveness with seashells? I find it even more immature that he would do so publicly.
The buffoon is pouting like a child, and clearly women of this era have no idea he has no manhood to speak of. It is disgraceful that Aubrey was ever involved with such a male. Is this what women want these days?
That she could possibly forgive him because of one infantile gesture is infuriating. I force myself to put the phone down before I break the fragile contraption. The aggravating jealousy filling my brain is swiftly followed by confusion. Why should I care? She is one insignificant human plaguing my peace. I should be able to withstand her.
Frank insists the blood bags are enough, but if that’s true, then how can she cause me to react this way?
The thought annoys me as I rise and stalk across the room to the piano half shrouded in darkness. I collapse onto the bench and pour out my frustration onto the keys. I haven’t touched the instrument in decades, but I could play this piece blinded and half dead. The familiarity of the music is a balm to the want raging in my chest.
Footsteps sound on the wood floor down the hall and I grit my teeth, holding back a snarl. My gaze lands on the predicament I find myself in. Her scent grows stronger, right after I escape it.
“Damn and blast it.”
Swiftly I scoop up the empty blood packets I left from the night before, and toss them into the fire, cursing the smell of burning plastic that rises. Fuck. This woman will be the death of me . . .
I hiss out a sharp breath when a strange light blinds me and she screams, waving her arms about like a startled animal out of its wits. Her phone clatters to the floor, sliding across the worn wood.
“Hello, Aubrey.”
Her hand curls into her chest and the shock bleeds from her face. “Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me.”
The light from the fire bathes her in a soft, cozy glow, and I move to turn on a lamp. “Decided to explore the castle, did you?”
She’s wearing new clothes. Clothes I know I purchased. Satisfaction swells in my chest at the thought that she would choose to wear them, even knowing she has little other options.
The black leggings stick to her like a silky second skin. Her white blouse cuts low, tickling just below her breasts, revealing the inside of her cleavage and the black lacey bra keeping them contained. I swallow down a groan, instantly salivating for a taste of her.
My cock hardens, straining within the confines of my pants, as the sound of her heart thunders in my ears. I bend down a tad awkwardly and pick up her little mobile device, then set it down on the nearby table.
“I-I heard music from my room and came to investigate.” Her pretty brows wrinkle with confusion before her nose does. “What is that smell?”
I step into her space and reach out to toy with the blonde silk of her hair. “It’s nothing. A mishap with the fireplace.”
Her soft panting breaths and her melodic pulse roar in my ears. My gaze drops to the white blouse, the fabric pulling taut over her covered breasts. I grin in delight. Her blonde locks are a mess, and I want to rake my fingers through them. The succulent scent that seems to follow her around blooms into the space between us, and I barely stop myself from groaning aloud.
I force myself to step back and arch a brow. Daring her to stay and not flee like her heart rate tells me she wants to. I push my will into my voice when I tell her, “Stay with me a moment. I apologize for my earlier manners.”
Her arms fold over her chest and she tilts her chin up and to the side. “Why should I?”
Why indeed. Doyle did say I should try to be less of a dick, and I would rather she didn’t put me in the same category as the seashell fool.
“Because I have been a cad, and as Doyle so recently reminded me, you are a guest in my home.” Those kissable lips of hers purse together, and I want to haul her into my arms. “Come, I’ll play something for you.” I gesture over my shoulder at the piano.
“Oh, no thank you, I was just looking for Doyle.”
“Why?” My hackles rise. “What is it you need?”
She rubs at the side of her cheek, suddenly looking exasperated. “I tried to take a bath, but there isn’t any hot water. I was on my way to find him and heard the music. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“I am sorry. The renovations to the castle have been a difficult undertaking, to say the least. The castle is an old one and was a keep for far longer before that. Doyle may have given you the best view of the garden, but we hadn’t quite finished with all the renovations before you arrived.”
“I thought everything seemed a bit unfinished. Is that why I haven’t seen any staff yet?”
“Yes. So, come have a drink with me. I haven’t played for anyone in years.” I gesture to a wine cabinet before drifting my hand toward two cushioned chairs with a table separating them. “Besides, Doyle is otherwise occupied at the moment.”
Indefinitely, as he’s most likely dealing with Frankenstein.
She shrugs, and my eyes track her movements as she heads toward the piano seat instead, leaning in to squint at the music. At least she didn’t immediately storm away.
I grin when she cautiously sits down on the edge of the cushioned bench. She looks like prey who is ready to scamper away at a moment’s notice.
“Mozart?” she asks, and I move to sit beside her, delighted that she seems content to stay by my side and doesn’t shy away. She pushes down a key with a delicate finger, then the one next to it.
“Do you play?” I ask, noticing her interest. Her hair shimmers in the light and my palms begin to sweat with the need to touch her.
“No, but I used to listen when my grandma would play. I only know one tune.”
I curl my hands into fists, needing to know what has caused the happy expression on her face. “Play it for me then.”
She snorts. “No way.”
“Why not?” I ask, cocking a brow when her shoulders turn inward nervously.
“Because it’s silly.”
“Why would anything you play be silly?”
Her blue eyes flick to me before looking away once more. “You know the movie Big?”
I frown and shake my head.
“Yeah, it’s kind of old. Anyway, this kid gets turned into an adult and he goes to the mall and plays this song on a keyboard. You know, like this piano on the floor in this massive toy store.” I stare, mesmerized, as she talks with her hands, light infusing her face as she remembers this film that she’s obviously enjoyed many times. “The guy is really like twelve or something and ends up sleeping with this girl.” Her eyes catch on mine and her face heats. “Not that that’s important.”
The irony isn’t lost on me. I wonder how she would react to knowing exactly how old I am. Would she run in fear?
“Play it for me then,” I repeat, sliding over to give her more space while waving at the piano keys.
“What?”
“The song from the movie.”
She looks at the keys to avoid me. “No way. I heard you. You sound like a freaking maestro or whatever.”
I start to roll my eyes but catch myself. I place my hand over the back of her slender wrist, soothing her skin with my thumb, and her heat sends a tingle through my fingertips. “Please?”
Her lips part in surprise, and I just know someone somewhere is cackling with glee. Me saying please is absolutely unheard of.
“Fine,” she finally says, yet the smile on her face is at odds with the way her brows are furrowed.
Her fingers shake slightly, but they move along the ivory keyboard, playing a light, cheery tune. She giggles in delight, and I find myself drawn under her spell, craving to watch her eyes crinkle again and again.
Wanting her to fall under that spell with me, I chuckle. “So, you’re a maestro yourself.”
Those blue eyes of hers widen and her head tilts back. Her arms wrap around her middle as she laughs, and I have never seen anything as beautiful as she. Maybe that’s what it is: she truly is full of life. And I cannot look away.
“Your turn now.” She slides over for me this time, and I frown, shaking my head.
“Play yours once again?” She smiles and plays it once more. “Very nice, and see? Not silly at all, not when it makes you smile like that.”
My fingers brush over the top of hers and her lips part, eyes dilating immediately. Interesting. I pick up her hands in mine, noting how fragile they feel, how soft and pliable.
“Let me show you how to play a different song.”
I stroke the keys with her hands lightly, playing a soft tune that most likely hasn’t been heard in centuries. It’s a simple one, but it always makes my chest full.
Her eyes go soft. “That’s beautiful.”
“Yes, it is,” I reply, staring at her, admiring the way the fire makes her hair shimmer like gold. She catches me and her teeth nip at her bottom lip, and a new aroma floods the air. Oh fuck me.
“Come here,” I beckon and catch the subtle movement of her swallowing.
I wait a moment for her to voice her choice, enchanted by her continued resistance to mind control.
“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”
“And why’s that?” I cup her cheek and run my fingers over her soft skin, my thumb raking across her bottom lip. I’m enraptured by the soft tongue that peeks from her mouth as I push my thumb slightly in, and her eyes darken.
She pulls back, and I let her go. “Because of this. Whatever this is,” she says, gesturing between us.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re rude and sometimes say things like, ‘Make sure you wear proper clothes.’” She says all this while shaking a finger at me, her voice overembellished and obnoxious. “And then you kiss me like before, is what I mean. You make no sense.”
I give her a broken smile, trying my hardest to not let my usual ire get in the way of this. “I do not sound like that.”
“Yes, you do.” She shakes her head and laughs.
The sound touches something in my chest, and the way the firelight kisses her eyes, combined with her luscious scent, makes her more alluring than a witch’s magic. At the thought, I breathe her in fully, but there is no witchcraft on her, not a hint—just her addictive aroma.
I feel my control slipping and reach out to trace her cheek lightly with the tips of my fingers, unable to resist touching her in some way. Her full and pouty lips are so tempting.
“I want to kiss you. May I?” The words are out before I can stop myself. Nor do I want to, if I’m being honest. I need her lips on mine.
She shudders as I trail my hand lower, asking for permission. But when she leans her body imperceptibly into me, tipping her lips, I lose control. She wants me as I want her.
My lips crash against hers and the swelling of my cock becomes painful as she moans. I growl into her mouth, and she opens, allowing me to delve inside. Her tongue toys with mine, and I snake both my hands down to grip each perfect globe of her ass, groaning at the feel of her.
Something comes over me. This was only meant to be a kiss, but I find myself wanting more. I want Aubrey closer, to feel her heat, her arousal, and have it consume me.
She pauses our kiss to squeak in alarm when I deftly pick her up and stand, only to settle into one of the chairs closer to the bookshelves, away from the light, with her secure in my lap. Her fingers clutch the fabric of my shirt.
I rock her hips into my hardness, and she shudders, a whimper escaping. Her lips descend on mine, and she sucks my tongue into her mouth. The aggressive maneuver has my body freezing in place, the blood in my veins suddenly scorching. I wrap my hand around her throat and squeeze lightly, pushing back and forcing her to break her onslaught.
“Aubrey.”
Her face is flushed, and her eyes are heavy with lust. I keep her pinned with my gaze and reach between us to rip the fabric of her leggings between her thighs. Her eyes widen and I can feel the quiet gasp escape her throat underneath my hand.
I try to remind myself she’s human and a guest in my home, but the tastes and sounds she makes drive me to insanity. I can’t stop touching her.
Running my fingers along her soaked panties, I watch the emotions evolve and play across her expression. Her thoughts are written on her face, and I could read them for hours, never becoming bored. They tell me she doesn’t want me to stop. The way her body responds to mine is unlike anything I can ever recall experiencing.
When I slide my other hand up from her ass to one of her perfect breasts, grazing her nipple, her thighs quake and her body trembles beneath my hands.
“So responsive,” I purr out in appreciation.
She bites her lip in reaction. I shove the scrap of lace to the side and grin as her breathing turns erratic and broken.
“Oh yes, please.” Her voice is low and breathy, and music to my ears.
My fangs are stabbing into my gums, and I have to fight their release, digging deep to keep my awareness on her and maintain the leash on my control. There are a thousand things I want to do to her in a thousand different ways.
“Look at you. So needy. Does your pretty cunt need attention?”
Her face turns a beautiful shade of red, but she nods slowly. I stare into her eyes as I reach down, snipping her underwear with a claw as easily as scissors before looking at my handiwork. Her sex glistens and my nostrils flare at the sight.
She slams her eyes shut and trembles, but I want to see her. I want to look into her eyes and watch her break. I sheath my claws in preparation.
“Open your eyes.” I gaze into the bottomless blue depths and her face contorts into one of pleasure when I rake the back of my fingers across her pussy. I growl at the feel of her. She’s shaved bare and slippery wet. “Beautiful.”
“I have a condom,” she says, her heart beating fast, her eyes dilated with arousal.
“A what?” Wait. A condom? I blink in confusion until it dawns on me. She means a prophylactic. I grin in delight, elation fills me at the realization that she wants me as badly as I do her.
“It’s in my pocket.” She’s carrying one on her? It appears I am not the only one who was hoping for more.
“Shhhh.” My cock head throbs in my pants, my underwear sticking uncomfortably.
If I told her it has been more than two lifetimes since I felt a woman beneath me, she would call me a liar. That may be a bit much for her to process at the moment, so telling her I’m impervious to disease and she will bear me no children could cause bedlam.
“I’m also on the pill, but you know . . .” She licks her lips nervously, like she hadn’t meant to say that.
Her eyes take on a vulnerable sheen, and I lift to kiss her. Thankfully, she melts and rocks against me, and I cup her breasts, teasing and pinching her nipples beneath her shirt.
She moans, her head tilting back wantonly. I let go of her and clap my hands, bathing us in darkness, knowing she will be the only one of us unable to see. Releasing my fangs so I can relax fully, I flip her body in my lap, pulling her back to my chest to remove what’s left of her leggings. She sighs when I cup her throat in my hand and slip my fingers through her folds to play with her clit. When she groans and grows wetter, I slip a single digit into her pussy. My jaw grinds when she clasps her hands around my wrist, holding me to her.
I play inside her sweet pussy, twisting and curling my finger, loving the small sounds she makes. Her hips roll as she attempts to ride my hand, her body demanding more. Fucking hell.
She shifts against my erection, and I groan against her nape. “Be still.”
She rolls her hips again. “I can’t,” she whines.
My palm slapping her inner thigh rings out over the crackle of the fire, and she gasps.
She turns her head and I get a perverse sense of pleasure from the confusion and irritation on her face. Oh yes, my Aubrey is a little she-devil and will demand everything I can give, then come back wanting more. I rub my fingers across her clit and squeeze her nipple lightly, humming with approval when her head falls back on a sigh.
“Good girl.” I slide my finger through her wetness before dipping back inside her warmth. Her body is like a furnace on mine, and I can sense her temperature rising.
