Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
It isn’t a question—he knows. And he’s right. There’s nothing left but a deep, boneless satisfaction and the fading echoes of a pleasure so profound it feels like I’m a whole different person.
“Yes,” I breathe. “It’s gone.”
He smiles, a slow, predatory curve of his lips.
“Good. Remember this, my darling—any pain you have, any need…you bring it to me. I will always turn it into pleasure.” He kisses my forehead, a strangely chaste contrast to where his mouth has just been.
When he finally gathers me back into his arms, I feel lighter…looser. The ache is gone, replaced by a pleasant warmth that settles deep and soothing inside me.
“There,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my hair. “All better.”
“Yes,” I say softly. “Much.”
He smiles, just a little—I can hear it in his voice when he speaks again.
“Would you like to have breakfast with your friend? I have business to attend to, but I will come meet with you after you’ve eaten.”
“That sounds… really nice, actually,” I say. The thought of sitting somewhere calm and normal with Hanna feels like the perfect way to start the day. I hesitate, then add quietly, “Thank you. For making me feel better, I mean.”
He tilts my chin up, dark eyes intent as he studies my face.
“My blood magic should last five or six hours. If you feel any discomfort before then, you will tell me.”
It’s not a request—there’s a proprietary look in his eyes that should probably worry me. But somehow it makes me feel warm inside instead.
“I’ll tell you,” I promise.
“Good. And you needn’t worry about bleeding through your clothes,” he adds matter-of-factly. “The magic will prevent that until I can tend to you again.”
So I’ll be wearing the magical equivalent of period panties. The idea is strange—almost surreal—but instead of panicking, I find myself nodding.
“Okay,” I say. “I trust you.”
The words surprise me as soon as they’re out of my mouth, but I realize they’re true.
Lucian goes still for a heartbeat, then his expression softens into something quiet and intense.
“Thank you. That means more to me than you know, little one,” he says.
He rises from the bed and begins to dress with smooth efficiency, pulling on dark trousers and a crisp shirt, every movement graceful and controlled. Watching him feels oddly intimate, like I’m seeing something meant only for me.
“Breakfast will be served in the breakfast nook,” he says, fastening his cuffs.
I look at him in surprise.
“The Crimson Spires has a breakfast nook?”
He smiles faintly.
“Of course. The servants will show you and Hanna the way. I will join you afterward.”
He leans down and presses a final kiss to my forehead, then glides toward the door, pausing just long enough to glance back at me.
“Rest,” he murmurs. “And eat.”
Then he’s gone.
I sit up slowly, wrapping the covers around myself, listening to the fire crackle and wondering when my life became this strange, this dangerous… and this unexpectedly gentle.
What happens next? I wonder.
And for once, instead of fear, the question brings a flicker of anticipation.
45
Jules
Getting dressed turns out to be surprisingly pleasant.
That alone feels strange enough that I pause in front of the wardrobe, one hand still resting on the carved wooden door, just taking it in. Dresses and outfits hang by length and color. Shoes are lined up neatly on low shelves. Everything smells faintly of cedar and something floral I can’t quite place.
Okay, I think. No pressure—let’s just find something comfortable.
I reach for a red dress that immediately feels different from what I’m used to. It’s light and flowy, made of a soft, crimson fabric that drapes instead of clinging. It has a gently defined waist that actually sits where my waist is instead of somewhere up near my ribcage like so many plus-sized dresses seem determined to do. The skirt skims my hips and thighs without pulling and without riding up—and most importantly, without making me feel like I need to suck in my stomach just to exist.
I look at myself in the mirror and smile. I look good. Not “good for a curvy girl.” Just good—feminine, pretty, and comfortable.
I feel good too. Confident and relaxed. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that having so many orgasms from a handsome vampire who seems utterly devoted to me is agreeing with me.
Still, I need to be careful, I tell myself. I still have to go home.
Only…going back to my awful job and my crappy apartment no longer sounds quite so appealing. Yes, the Shadow Realm is scary, but I feel safe and protected by Lucian. And it’s kind of nice to leave the daily grind behind and live in the lap of luxury instead.
Still, I miss my friends in Book Club, I remind myself. I never even got to say goodbye to them and I know Hanna is expecting me to come home with her. Which I’m going to—honestly, I will.