Determined to drive away that emotion, she decided to pamper herself with a long soak in the tub.
In the bathroom she turned on the faucets for the claw-footed tub and as the hot water spewed out she added a healthy squeeze of bath oil. Soon the heady aroma of lilacs filled the confines of the bathroom. Combined with the aromatic smells from the kitchen, beef stew if she had to guess, it roused memories of her family home in Ireland.
Her da had used to bring her mother huge bunches of lilacs in the spring from the woodlands surrounding their small town.
Easing into the hot water, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the tub, allowing the warmth to loosen her muscles and drive away the tension she had been feeling. Long minutes passed until she relaxed enough to reach for a washcloth. She drowned the cloth beneath the water and then placed a generous dollop of a lilac-scented bath gel. Working up a lather, she ran the washcloth all along her body, the silky slide of the fabric awakening memories of the glide of Adrian’s hands along her skin.
Eliza allowed herself the daydream as she skimmed the soapy cloth along her breasts and the tips tightened. Grew sensitive as she rubbed the cloth around and around her nipples until with a sigh she put her fingers to work, imagining that it was Adrian touching her.
She plucked and pulled, her eyes closed as she allowed herself the fantasy.
Reaching down to caress her clit, her hand not as sure as his had been. She applied pressure and the rougher texture of the washcloth quickly brought a wave of desire through her body.
Riding on that crest, she stroked the fabric along her nether lips and clit, increasing the pressure as she rose ever higher until with one final sweep of the cloth, she came, calling his name. Wishing he had been there with her to share the pleasure.
Eliza sucked in a rough breath and sat up, strangling the cloth with two hands. Focusing on it while she drew in one deep breath after another to steady herself. To remind herself that as satisfying as her interlude with Adrian had been, it could never happen again, and fantasies such as this one would only make it harder. Especially since she intended to ask for her freedom and start a new life without him.
The water grew tepid and she finished her bath, rinsing and drying herself off. She ignored the pain in her heart that lingered at the thought of this being the last birthday she would spend with Adrian.
In her bedroom, she opened the door to the closet, undecided about what to wear. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t shared a meal before, both fancy and casual. She knew Adrian wanted to make it special, but given what she planned to ask of him, something suitable for mourning seemed more appropriate.
A little black dress, she thought, skimming through the few she had to select something sedate. As she exited her closet with her choice, her gaze fell on the emerald-green lingerie draped on the settee in her room and she recalled how bold it had made her feel.
Bold was what she needed beneath the black to bolster her courage.
She snagged the matching panties from the settee and wiggled them on. The panties rode low on her hips and snugly covered the newly trimmed triangle of curls at her center. Next came the corset. It skimmed over her body and settled on her figure lovingly, caressing her curves. She tugged on the laces down the front and the tightening enhanced the lushness of her breasts. Finishing the ensemble with silk stockings and garters, she paused for a look in the mirror.
The creature that stared back at her was all sexy woman, startling her as it had at the lingerie shop. She dragged herself away from the image, slipped the dress on over her head and donned a black pair of heels, higher than she normally would have worn, but they suited this more daring Eliza.
Boldness only went so far, however. Eschewing anything other than a quick swipe of mascara, a pinch on her cheeks and some lip gloss, she hurried down the stairs and across the hall connecting her wing to Adrian’s.
The door to his living quarters was open and an assortment of enticing smells drifted out from deeper in the space. Her stomach growled once more and she laid a hand against her midsection, willing it to silence.
“Adrian?” she called out as she stepped into the parlor, not wanting to surprise him with her presence. He stepped out from the hall which led to the kitchen and dining room wearing a slightly soiled apron and a bittersweet smile.
“A chuisle, happy birthday,” he said, leaned forward and dropped a brotherly peck on her cheek. “Thank you, Adrian. This really wasn’t necessary,” she repeated, much as she had all week, motioning to the apron.
Adrian shot a quick glance down and shook his head ruefully. He immediately whipped off the apron, surprisingly and endearingly flustered, she thought.
“It most certainly is necessary. I want today to be very special for you.” With a sweep of the hand which held the apron, he urged her into the hall and she walked down until they reached the dining room.
A large bouquet of yellow roses sat in a short round vase in the middle of the table and perfumed the air. The table was set for two, with one at the head and the other intimately kitty-corner. The places were set with his finest china and silver and sparkling Waterford crystal. “Beautiful,” she said and faced him. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. The night is still fresh and there is so much more for you to enjoy.”
With a hand at the small of her back, he urged her to the table, pulled out the chair at the head so she might sit. Once she had, he trailed a hand along her back in a fleeting caress before vanishing into the kitchen.
The meal he brought out was a combination of all her favorites, and so was slightly eclectic: fresh tomatoes heaped with burrata cheese and drizzled with the finest Italian olive oil; yeasty bread with a crunchy crust; a thick Irish stew with hints of the rich Guinness stout he had served in lieu of wine. For dessert he brought out luscious strawberry shortcakes and a heady aged port.
As she sipped from her generous portion of port, she smiled at him, truly appreciating his thoughtfulness. “You’ve thought of everything.”
That bittersweet smile came again, tugging at her heart.
“Not quite everything. I still haven’t given you your gifts,” he said, the tenor of his voice low, almost pained. He raised his hand and cradled her jaw, trailed his thumb along the line of her cheekbone.
His tenderness made her hesitate. Silenced her from asking for the one thing she wanted most, beside him. Before she could utter a word, he slipped a small, gaily wrapped parcel before her. “Open it,” he said, a slightly more eager tone in his voice.
Eliza undid the ribbon with shaky hands and then the paper, revealing the leather-bound book within. It had the patina of age and loving care. As she opened it, she sighed. “Yeats.”
“I know you miss Ireland sometimes, and who better to remind you of our homeland,” he said. Smiling, Adrian covered her hand with his. “But there’s more.”
He rose and extended his hand to her. “Come with me.”
Hesitantly she did as he asked, wondering at what was to come. The moment she laid her hand in his, he scooped her into his arms and with a blast of vamp speed rushed from the room.
Her head was spinning from the unexpected motion, but as her vision cleared, she realized they were in his bedroom and that they were not alone.
John stood before her, his immense beautiful body bare and exposed to the world. His gaze was slightly unfocused and she wondered whether Adrian was using his vamp power to control her ex.
Eliza rounded on her master, anger rising within her. “What’s the meaning of this, Adrian?” “You were so sad about him, a chuisle. I knew that in a way I was responsible for what had happened.”
Although he couldn’t be more right about that, Adrian couldn’t even begin to understand exactly why he was responsible. But before she could utter a word, he continued with his explanation.
“I want you to be happy. I wanted you to be loved, so my last gift to you this day is your freedom, and John agreed to be her
e to help you celebrate. We both want to make you happy this day.”
“Freedom?” she repeated, almost unable to believe that one of the gifts she had most wanted was the one he was offering. Saddened that with that treasure she would lose another: him.
“Are you not happy, Eliza? Now you can be with your John.” With a flick of his wrist toward her ex, he invited him forward until John stood directly behind her. Her ex willingly rested his hands at her waist and possessively moved his body flush against her back.
There was no mistaking his state. The long, wide ridge of his erection settled into the small of her back and his hands shifted to splay across her midsection, urging her even closer.
“Please stop, John,” she instructed, the heat of a deep flush staining across her cheeks and spreading downward.
Adrian spread his arms wide, held his hands palms up in pleading. Emotion had colored his blue-grey eyes to a turbulent charcoal. “Is this not what you want, a chuisle? Freedom to live the life I took from you.”
“You gave me a chance for life I would not have had without you,” she reminded, not wanting him to be burdened by wrongful guilt.
“Aye, I did at that,” he replied, the cadence of Ireland ever stronger.
As much as Eliza did not want to leave him, she would not refuse so rare a gift as her freedom. “Thank you for all your gifts, Adrian.”
A small smile tilted one corner of his mouth upward. “Enjoy yourself then, Eliza. I ask but one last thing from you.”
She quirked an eyebrow upward. “And what would that be?” “I’d like to watch.”
Chapter Eight
The color which had been riding high across her cheeks and along the elegant line of her neck spread downward over the generous spill of her breasts revealed by the bodice of her dress.
“W-w-hat?” She grabbed hold of John’s hands as he moved them to the hem of her dress in response to Adrian’s words.
“I want to watch you, just as you’ve watched me all these many months,” he explained, and even from the distance that separated them, his vamp senses picked up on the skitter in her pulse.
“You knew.” She batted ineffectively at John’s hands once more as he slowly worked the hem of the dress upward. The action revealed her long, shapely legs clad in silk and the first hint of skin and lace as garters came into view.
He sucked in a rough breath at just that little peek of silk, creamy skin and emerald satin that had him hardening. “Aye, I knew. I could sense you, a chuisle, just as I can right now. Your heart is beating faster, but not from embarrassment.”
No, not from that, Eliza admitted. As John’s hands moved ever higher, dragging the dress upward to reveal yet more, she imagined it was Adrian’s hands on her. In response, dampness erupted between her legs and her nether lips quivered in anticipation.
Adrian’s strangled groan was muffled by the dress as John pulled it up and over her head.
Her ex settled his hands at the curve of her waist once more as Adrian sat there, his gaze roving up and down the length of her body.
“You are so beautiful, Eliza,” Adrian said, the tones of his voice husky.
She was barely able to utter a thank-you before John began working the laces on the corset, slowly pulling them free and allowing the fabric to gape.
She splayed her hand across the satin that was now barely covering her breasts, but John gently urged her hand away.
“I want to see you,” her ex said, and despite her misgivings about Adrian’s presence, she was finding it harder and harder to ignore that the thought of him watching them was arousing her.
“Do you want to see, Adrian?” she challenged, raising her chin a defiant inch. If this was to be the last time they were together, she wanted to know his true feelings.
Adrian surged from his seat and approached, fists clenched at his sides. He stopped when he was barely inches from her and she was sandwiched between the two large and very attractive men.
He stood there silently, but raked his gaze along the swell of her breasts and the cleavage exposed by the emerald satin. He clenched and unclenched his hands before meeting her gaze.
“Aye, I want to see. And I want to touch,” he confessed.
She shivered at the need in his voice and the heat of his gaze. Hands shaking, she reached up and slowly pulled the laces free, exposing more and more skin as the fabric parted beneath her trembling fingers.
When all that held it up was John’s hands at her waist, Adrian shot a heated glance at the other man. At the same moment that John moved his hands downward to the sides of her thighs, Adrian eased his hands beneath the fabric at her waist and urged the corset open, exposing the flat, creamy skin of her midsection.
She looked downward as Adrian bracketed her waist with his hands and then slowly slipped those amazing hands upward. When he reached her breasts, he impatiently shoved away the corset and it slid down her body to the floor, leaving her in only the panties, garters and stockings.
She shivered in anticipation of his touch there and a jumble of emotions warred in her brain. Shaking her head, she closed herself off to the conflicting feelings, focusing instead on the sensation of Adrian’s hands as he finally cupped her breasts and on the roughness of John’s palms rubbing along the silk of her stockings. John inched his hands upward to lie flat against her belly and urge her tight to his powerful erection.
She moaned when Adrian finally ran his thumbs along the tight nubs of her nipples.
He smiled then, a smile of pure masculine ego that she somehow felt compelled to challenge. Laying her hands on his, she rose up on her tiptoes and teased, “Do you want a taste, Adrian?”
He answered by bending his head and licking the tip of her breast, dragging a shudder from her body. When he deepened his caress, drawing the tip into his mouth while tweaking her other nipple with his thumb and forefinger, her body shook from the pleasure and a blast of damp wet her cleft.
* * *
She was sweet, so sweet against his lips, Adrian thought for only an instant before guilt settled in once again.
She was not meant to be his, no matter how much he wanted her.
Dragging himself away, he ignored her murmured protest at his departure and finally used his vamp power to send command after command at John, who was both willing and able to satisfy Eliza.
Adrian dropped down in the chair to watch, his own body primed with desire. The heat of his passion and the vampire within growing so intense that he had to rip off his shirt to battle the warmth.
Heeding the instructions he had been given, John undid Eliza’s garters and peeled the silk stockings down her legs. The shock of John’s rough hands on her smoothness registered in Adrian’s mind as he almost became one with the other man, so great was his desire to possess his consort.
With a quick twist, the garter joined the stockings on the floor, leaving Eliza standing there in only the silk panties. The very wet panties, Adrian realized as John dipped one big hand beneath the edge and stroked it along Eliza’s lips.
Eliza sucked in a breath and grabbed hold of John’s hand, stilling its motion. Adrian’s little voyeur act had her already on the edge and she needed a moment to contain her excitement.
In response, John lowered his head to lick a line along the top of her shoulder and cradled her breast with his other hand, flicking his thumb against her nipple over and over. As he neared the shell of her ear, he bit her lobe and whispered, “Come for me, Eliza. There will be more, a chuisle.”
Before she could protest Adrian’s possession of her ex, John shoved two thick fingers into her vagina and pulled her to a hard, shattering release.
Her knees weakened and, needing support, she turned in John’s arms and grabbed hold of his broad shoulders. The sensitized points of her breasts rubbed along the smooth wall of muscle that was John. He grunted in approval and shifted his hips back and forth, the motion caressing his cock as it nestled between their bodies.
“You feel so g
ood, Eliza,” John said, emerging from the cloud of Adrian’s control.
Wanting to gentle him because she needed out of Adrian’s misguided plan, she stroked her hand across the swell of his chest. But before she could say anything else, Adrian was suddenly at her back, imprisoning her between the two of them.
“We want to please you,” Adrian said and eased one hand beneath the edge of her panty.
“It’s not a we—”
“It is a we, Eliza,” John chimed in, with more force and determination than she had expected. Meeting his gaze, she realized that Adrian had not been lying when he said that he and John had joined together to bring her pleasure this night.
As Adrian bent, dragging down her panties and slipping off her shoes, John moved his hand along her cleft again, reviving need within her. His powerful fingers stroking her and rubbing all along her sex and clit while Adrian began his own sensual assault.
He kissed a spot beneath her knee and then trailed a line of kisses up the back of her leg before spreading her thighs to lick the juices John was wringing from her passion.
They both shuddered at that touch of his tongue along her cleft, but then Adrian’s body quaked more violently against hers and he surged upward. He brought his hands around to splay across her belly and nestled his cock along the small of her back.
A low growl tinged his voice as he whispered, “It was you that night in my bed. How could I forget the unique taste of your passion? The smell of you?”
“Only an idiot could forget,” John jumped in, eyeing Adrian with challenge in his gaze.
“Aye, that I am, but idiot no longer,” Adrian replied, and in a ballet of desire, the two men moved to bring her satisfaction.
John shifted his hands and mouth to her breasts while Adrian guided his dick to her vagina and slowly entered her from behind. The pressure of his thick length and John’s eager caresses nearly made her come on the spot, but Adrian stilled, seemingly content just to rest inside her.
The Vampire's Consort Page 5