Disjointed thoughts raced through her mind. Some answers might be better left in the dark. She had never been cautious.
“You can walk in the daylight.”
“I’m not a pure blood vampire, which is both a blessing and a curse at times. I can remain exposed to direct sunlight, it burns my eyes and a frustrating irritant, albeit being a day walker has a positive side. I’m not immortal and can be killed thought it would be harder to accomplish as with a human man.”
“You have a healthy appetite.” The choice of wording seemed better to say than ask if he drank blood.
Juden smirked. “I don’t drink blood, if that is your question. I eat and enjoy the taste of food like anyone else. There are few pure vampires existing, elders, who prefer to stick to the old ways of “feasting”, but for survival only. Because of their age, the need to sustain with human blood is occasionally necessary, and then they can go without for weeks or months before feeding again. With the potential diseases humans fester, others prefer a blood supply that is untainted.”
Not sure what he meant by the statement. “You’re not cold—alive?”
He smiled at her comment. The smile was comforting, pleasant. “I believe being alive is definitely a positive.” He grinned, and rolled on his back. “Fables are just that, Saxby. To sum things up, if you try to stick a stake through my heart it’d really make me furious. Toss holy water on me and I’m wet. Press a cross against my skin and I will probably burn from the sins I have enacted on earth, and nothing more. Otherwise, I assume the metal would feel cold to touch.
Juden shared with her more than she considered he had with anyone. She felt thankful he trusted her enough to confide things about his ancestry, and prying anymore didn’t seem appropriate. Besides, Juden had never been an enigma to her, perhaps an extraordinary person in his own right.
“Is your grandfather still alive?”
“No…he died during the scourge months after my mother succumbed to the disease.”
“I’m sorry. I would have liked to meet them both,” she said softly. Then, “Can you read my mind?” She suddenly remembered.
“Not as you believe.”
“Your reply can be left to interpretation.”
Juden smiled mischievously. He tapped her nose lovingly. “I know.”
The lull in conversation clearly indicated he was done with any discussion.
“Thank you for sharing with me. I can see it was difficult.”
“I prefer to speak of the present and let bygones remain in the past.”
Saxby nodded. She draped her body over his and hugged him affectionately. “Did I tell you I missed you?” She nuzzled her nose against his and spoke softly saying, “So much my heart hurt whilst you were away. When I considered you may never return it was all I could do to stay on my feet and keep from walking around in a daze.”
“What made you think I wouldn’t return?” he mumbled, yawning.
“Our last encounter wasn’t actually pleasant.” She glanced at him to see his reaction. He remained passive, unreadable. She forged around because there was no way to get around the required conversation. “I was beastly, shrewd, and a number of other despicable terms in my treatment of you.”
“Aye, you were.”
“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did not return.”
“Aye, you would have. We both know you would have been unforgiving,” he said quietly.
“Is that why you returned?” she said, hopeful. Clearly, she wanted a declaration his affection was strong enough a lure for Juden, her unspoken apology accepted, she hoped.
Juden shot her a satirical look before responding. “No. I had my reasons to return.” A beat passed, and she considered another question, but sensed Juden wasn’t finished. She waited. She knew what was coming and braced herself. “Who were those men?”
She considered asking him to clarify his question, and to stall for time, except the way Juden looked at her she knew not to try it. She folded her hands in her lap, dropped her chin, unable to meet his direct gaze. “The story is tedious and boring.”
“You have my undivided attention,” he murmured.
“I know what you are thinking.”
“You have no idea what I’m thinking.” His features were shrouded, expressionless.
Nowhere else to turn, Juden’s latitude on avoiding the subject short, if it existed at all, she knew what was required of her. The pit of her stomach soured, and for the first time in her life, fear encased around her heart and got a chokehold.
Juden would leave her.
Quick and to the point, she rambled off what Milo requested of her. She didn’t go into specifics, none were needed. Juden was astute…she could tell he got the gist of what she confessed. She performed with men for Milo’s pleasure, her demise, sinned, very much with strangers to please her husband. For her unselfish act, the fire of Oslei waited, and she rightfully believed justice would come, for her actions. It didn’t matter she did her husband’s bidding or obeyed the teaching of Oslei when she reflected on the situation. Her actions were her own.
“Did you do what Milo wanted because you felt guilty about his accident?”
“He is my husband.”
“Answer the question.”
Saxby shifted uncomfortably. “Aye, and Oslei teaches a wife submits to her husband without question, insolence, or rancor.”
Juden eyed her coolly. “So, you fucked those men because you wanted to?”
She stiffened. When he reached out to her, she shoved his hand away. She scooted away. Juden caught her arm. She gave him a scathing look, pure fire brightened her irises, and she bristled with venom. She slammed her fist in his chest. “Is that what you think!”
“Unless you tell me otherwise, I’m going with it. You can be a hot-blooded bitch when it suits you. I can’t imagine Milo had so much control.”
“You bastard!” She started to attack again. Juden caught her hand, curled his palm around her fist before she could strike. “Unhand me.”
“If you promise to behave,” he uttered.
“What I promise to do is great harm.” She threatened.
Juden grinned, clearly amused by her warning. “You’re a hellcat, darling. Unlike the timid, delicate, women I’m accustomed to.” Saxby breathed fire, her nostrils flared. He maneuvered closer until she could see the tiny flicks of black striations in his eyes. “You are different and I have yet to consider if your persona is bad or good. I’m still trying to figure that out.” He reached and cupped her cheeks. His voice leveled, turned rough and moody. “I believe you fucked those men because Milo made you feel contrite. He used you.” She opened her mouth, ready with a quick retort until he slowly shook his head back and forth, silently telling her to let it go. She squeezed her lips shut. “Whether you agree or not, I’m going with my assumption because it suits me. Understand?”
A wave of relief surfaced. She nodded and admitted to herself she was thankful Juden knew the sordid truth.
Yet, he didn’t flee and turn his back on her.
I underestimated him again.
“I apologize.”
“For what?”
Saxby threw her arms in the air, waved them about, saying, “You have to witness me with those men, my attacks against you where I took out my frustrations against you for what I could not control. Everything. I feel there is a multitude of things I should be apologizing for, Juden. Misjudging you and even loving you too much.” She finally admitted.
Juden grinned. “You love me?”
She nodded, and then said, “Aye, even when you are most difficult. You are a complex man, Juden VanZandt. Unlike any person I have ever known.” He was such and more. The harsh beauty, virility, charismatic flair, coupled with dangerous undertones made him sinfully appealing and increased his intrinsic sexual allure.
She couldn’t deny him anything. She didn’t try to. Juden slipped into her heart and managed her easily as a puppeteer. In his arms, a mere glance, she sw
ayed to do his bidding with requited acquiesce.
She needed the heat of his body inside her, his kisses to warm her, his scent to awaken her senses and tantalize every nerve ending, like his touch. She wondered if she’d ever get used to how fast he moved. With quickness, Juden was right there beside her. Without warning, he covered her back, poised her thighs apart, and moved his cock along her soaked crevice.
She quivered, falling to her knees when he lightly pressed his palm into her spine. She went down under the tender demand, shuddered, and gave over to what he wanted. Maybe, what she needed or he craved, a silent submission she belonged exclusively to him.
He was hard and taut, in place and ready to thrust, and she held the air in her lungs in anticipation. She felt his lips outline her shoulders, whisper down her back, his hands followed suit caressing over her heated flesh. In between soft bites, lazy licks tasting her skin, he murmured illicit phrases that ignited flares of desire to combust and tingle wildly. Juden rose up, their bodies parted slightly, and unable to help herself, she pleaded for him to stay close.
His tone teasing, he said, “I’m not going anywhere, darling.” His large, strong fingers captured her cheek, turned her to face him, and something caught inside her chest seeing the possessive glint in his eyes. He kissed her roughly, and then softened, gliding his tongue wickedly to duel with hers until she felt sweltering in heat. He ceased, stared at her with a wolfish grin, his tone low but resonant. “Say you want me to take you. Here.” His fingers toyed with her ass.
The command didn’t offend her. She wanted what he wanted, to prove to Juden her undying love. She made eye contact, and mouthed the words. “I want whatever you need.”
“I want to know where you want my cock. Say it.” He stroked his cock, tugging, pulling on the turgid length and squeezing the bloated head. He jutted his hips out, an offering, if she only asked.
“Take your pleasure and have me like no other,” she moaned, feeling him already start to forge through the unchartered territory.
She thought to die of pleasure an understatement, as he made love to her with practiced finesse, gently, tenderly, careful to take it slow as if he understood she gave to him what she withheld from others. With measured strokes, he coaxed her acceptance, delved deeper when he knew she was ready and kept the rhythm of his cock steady and consistent, he fucked with restraint until she reached back and grabbed his wrists.
“More,” she groaned, firming her hold when he eagerly obliged.
She felt as if she belonged here when she never belonged to anyone like this before. In her mind, where else could there be that offered the pleasure Juden gave her?
He slipped a hand around her waist, downward into the folds of her pussy, and massaged the small beaded clit creating devious circles that made her skin, body, and senses hypersensitive to the merest touch.
Transformed in bliss, enchanted by his spell, she gave herself over to his ardent administrations that left her vaginal tissues inflamed, and sleek channel pulsating against his solid length. He withdrew slightly, plunged—two fingers sunk as deep inside her pussy—buried in both recesses, he pushed hard sending her over the cusp.
She cried out, a guttural groan, collapsed against the covers, succumbed to an earth-shattering and all-consuming climax. Juden was just there. His body rigid, tight as a bow, he wavered on the brink. Then as if his self-control was too much to bear, he growled, sunk his teeth into her neck, and poured his semen, claiming his woman.
Chapter 37
Milo watched Saxby perform like a trollop. This wasn’t the first time, he’d watched before, enjoyed the show, this episode was different because he saw and heard her cries of pleasure.
His lips curled in a snarl. “Bitch,” he hissed. His displeasure evident, it took everything he had not to intrude. The entire scene made his body convulse, raw fury escalated through him as he stood in the narrow passageway which separated his chamber from Saxby’s doorway. Something inside him shattered, blinding white lights exploded in front of his eyes, seeing his wife capitulate willingly, with relish, and beg Juden to fuck her like an animal.
It didn’t matter he orchestrated Juden’s arrival at Dandelion. His plan was well-intended, except he underestimated his brother’s appeal to his wife. No decent woman would spread her legs for a variant. If things worked as designed, Juden would have forced himself on Saxby to get her with child. He expected Juden would, after all, he was a beast by nature, an untamed creature who lacked self-control and conscience. With the threat of revealing the truth about Isla’s death as an added measure Juden would fold and do whatever he required.
Or so he believed.
He was wrong.
The mere thought of his mistake made Milo dizzy with loathing which manifested into hatred, the feeling so intense, he wavered on his feet, and had to brace against the wall for support. When the moment passed, he shoved away from the support and turned around on the heels of his feet. He used the wooden pole, careful to keep the end from hitting the floor with a thump. He shuffled down the corridor to his chambers so he could lick his self-inflicted wounds.
Alone in his room, he sulked down on the bed and considered matters. He debated his options now that Juden had thoroughly screwed up his plot. What to do? What to do? He considered, drumming his fingers over the covers in a soft rat-tit-tat, he contemplated his next move.
Nothing short of seeking revenge came to mind. He swore silently, wanting Juden and Saxby to suffer a death worst then anyone could imagine, an incoherent rage filled his brain. Thinking of ways to bring their demise, he caught his reflection in the mirror. A startling sight, a fiendish reflection stared back at him appeared ghostly, an image that surpassed lunacy. He knew it would come to this. Milo considered rummaging through his hidey-hole in the floorboards and retrieved his father’s diary. This time he overlooked the plea to the King, found what he sought, and unfolded the parchment.
Blinded by his rage, he swiped at his eyes to clear his vision. He read the contents of the document. When he finished, he balled the paper, watched it crumple, along with it another hidden fact he didn’t want revealed. He should have destroyed the missive a long time ago. He wanted to feel, see, and relive the sharp wave of pain his father’s betrayal ignited, something that made him experience elated and vindicated at the same time for killing the bastard. In his hand was proof, the sordid truth his father hated his guts, coveted his whore mistress Tanzenth and her child more than pure blood.
Juden was to get Dandelion, and if weren’t enough of a slap across his face, he was to get Saxby to.
Hearing footsteps at his door, Milo quickly stuffed the paper inside the hiding place, replaced the flooring, and came to his feet. He moved swiftly, ignoring the sparked pain hit his lower back, as he made his way over to the bed.
He just pulled the covers over his body when the door opened. He watched her walk across the room, smiling, giving him an innocent look she easily portrayed when needed. Only he knew differently, the malevolent intent dwelled inside the woman, like his own, he recognized pure evil.
Chapter 38
Milo’s men proved to be as worthless as he suspected. Faison did a decent job bringing the lazy-lots up to par, each still lacked the fundamental skills to fight like warriors and protect Dandelion when he went on the hunt again.
The time was growing near, he remained here more time than he should have, his reason stood off in the distance conversing with Carline. He watched Saxby intensely for a minute, and then tore his gaze away. There were important matters to attend, appeasing his cock aside, he made himself focus on the men on the practice field.
He couldn’t believe his eyes, seeing a huge bear of a man laboring under the exertion of sparing with a partner. When the bear actually raised his arms, as if in surrender, and asked for a reprieve to catch his breath, he lost it.
In two seconds, Juden converged on the man, raised his foot, and shoved it into the beefy flesh and sent the man to the ground. He stood
over him and watched disgusted seeing the huge frame waddle about in the dirt, resembling a pig in mud, and tried to roll onto his back.
“Who would dare!” the bear growled.
Juden leaned down, face to face. “Do you think whilst your enemy tries to sever your neck he will wait on you to catch your wind? You will be gutted like a fish,” he bellowed. He turned and shouted over his shoulder. “Faison!”
Faison appeared by Juden’s side.
Juden hoisted the bear to his feet. He said, “What we have here is a lack of stamina and too much girth around the middle. I have a way to fix that.” He turned to the grizzly. “You will repair the widow’s cottage by yourself. You have five days. If one piece of the structure is not fit to withstand a minimal attack, you will tear it down and do it again until you get it right.”
The bear stammered. “Fi-five days?”
“Now, you have four days,” he said, and stalked away.
A young man caught Juden’s attention. He watched disapprovingly as the boy swiped the sword through the air awkwardly, fighting against the blade, and lost his balance a few times. When he almost cut open a thigh, it was all he could do not to expire. Frustrated, he wiped his face, exhaled slowly, walked over, and snatched the blade from the boy before he did real damage. Juden tested the weight of the sword in his hand, examined the workmanship, before looking at the boy. “What is your name?”
The boy was in awe of Juden’s presence. He stood there speechless.
Selwyn appeared beside the boy and shoved an elbow in his side. “Juden asked you a question,” he said gruffly.
The boy stammered. “Ah…Tyree, sir.”
Juden put the point of the blade in the ground, leaned forward, crossed his arms on the hilt, and rested against it. He looked at Tyree, saying, “Tell me something. Do you intend to defend yourself with an enemy or dance with him during battle?” He grabbed Tyree by the shoulder, spun him around, and positioned himself at his back. Three quick maneuvers, he had Tyree in the correct defense stance, and weight evenly distributed. He put the sword in Tyree’s hand. “Do not strain. Relax. You control your weapon, not the other way around. Understand?”
Barbour, Carolina - Watch Me, Desire Me (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 24