“Good posture. Good structure,” Duvessa commented. When she reached the base of Raina’s spine, she then trailed both of her index fingers over the top edge of her underwear’s elastic. “Explain this, please.”
Hesitantly, Raina asked, “Explain what?”
“Your choice of knickers,” she said. “Why a black thong?”
She searched for an answer that was not smart-aleck, vague, or however possibly offensive, while still being honest. With Duvessa hooking her fingers under the bottom edge of the elastic going over her hips and idly running back and forth from front to back, Raina’s mind was a complete blank.
“I … I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? For what?”
“I don’t … I don’t really know why I chose them. I just … guessed.”
“Guessed?” Duvessa echoed. “Is this not something you would normally wear?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, your grace.”
“No, no,” she chuckled, removing her fingers from the elastic and resting her hands upon Raina’s hips, “I am asking … aside from special occasions, is this something that you normally wear?”
“Yes, your grace,” Raina replied again, feeling her cheeks flush with warmth.
“Duvessa,” she reminded her. She ran her fingers over the satiny cotton fabric at the center of the thong’s rear intersection, as though this were a novel concept in underwear to her, and then she moved to step around her. Meeting her eyes for a moment, she asked, “You are a single woman, are you not?”
“Yes.”
“No one else to call your own?” Duvessa’s eyes drifted downward, liberally taking in the sight of her.
She hesitated. “Well…”
“Do tell, please.”
“Brenna and I…” she began, but could not bring herself to say more. How could she explain something that she did not even understand, herself?
“Are lovers?” Duvessa said for her.
“Not really. I mean, not … officially.”
She took hold of Raina’s right hand and began to examine it. “That was what I was told by William earlier this evening, but I have heard conflicting reports on this. Are you intimately involved with Lady Brenna?”
Again, she struggled to find proper words. At last, she said, “Not physically, no.”
“You have not lain with her?”
“Not yet.”
“Do you intend to?” she asked. Duvessa released her hand and waited, becoming impatient with Raina’s hesitancy. Taking her other hand, she said, “I require an answer.”
“Honestly, I … I don’t know,” she finally said. “I never really thought about it much before, but ever since the Change … I just … I don’t know what I want.”
“You do not know whom you want,” Duvessa said for her. Raina’s silence was enough for an answer. “I understand. That answer will reveal itself in due time. So, then … this kind of undergarment that you wear. Is it for her benefit, or your own?”
“My own … I guess.”
“You guess?” Duvessa released Raina’s other hand and placed a finger under her chin. “Only fools guess. You are not a fool, dear Raina. You are a Duchess of the High Court. You are my heir. Your answers must be swift, certain, and honest at all times. If you must second-guess your words before replying, then you are offering something less than the truth, and that is something I do not wish to have between us. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“So, then … what benefit is there for you to wear these?”
“Well … panty lines are tacky, and a thong usually hides them,” she answered. “That, and … guys like them.”
“How is that to your benefit, if you do not have someone to whom you may show them?”
“I just … they make me feel … a little more sexy,” she replied reluctantly, feeling her cheeks grow hotter still. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that her skin was beginning to glow once more, and she forced herself not to be distracted by the strange phenomenon again. “Plus, I just … I like to be in the habit of wearing them … just in case.”
“Do you randomly invite men into your bed on a regular basis?”
“No.”
“So, you wear these because you hope that a random sexual encounter will happen purely by chance?”
Phrased like that, she realized how stupid the idea seemed.
“Yes.”
“I see. So, then … you do like men?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And women?”
She hesitated, then replied, “Just one, so far.”
“So far?” Duvessa repeated.
“Since my Change, things have been … different. Very different.”
She smiled to her, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Ah. So, am I to believe that you are keeping an open mind about things, in light of your Change…?”
Considering her own reaction to Mary and, just now, to Duvessa, Raina swallowed hard before forcing herself to admit, “Yes.”
The Grand Duchess seemed to approve of that response, giving a subtle nod. She looked down to the black strapless satin bra, made to match the thong. “Is there any significance to the color of your choice of undergarments?”
“No.”
“Then were these simply a random choice of color?”
“No,” she replied, “all of my underwear is black.”
“Really? And why?”
“Because … everything matches, and … it’s easier to do laundry.”
Duvessa loved that, at first a stifled snicker that evolved into an honest laugh. “Well … at least that was an honest answer.”
After pausing a moment to collect herself, Duvessa surprised her by abruptly reaching to her bra and unhooking the front clasp, allowing the garment to fall to the floor. She took half a step back to better admire her, the faintest hint of a smile lifting the corners of her delicate lips. Again, it was difficult, if not impossible, for Raina to tell how much was her own reaction and how much was Duvessa’s, but in either event, the reveal was somehow not unpleasant. Nevertheless, Raina clenched up within, and felt her very flesh tightening. The room was suddenly very, very cold.
“What is your heritage, exactly?” Duvessa asked her, strangely. “Mexican?”
“My father was Spanish,” she replied, too nervous to be bothered by the assumption.
“I see.” Duvessa waited. “And your mother?”
“I’m not sure exactly.”
“How so?”
“I was a little kid when she told me about it once. Cherokee Indian, Irish, Finnish, something else…” She shrugged, recalling her conversation with Duke Sebastian. “Basically, I’m just a mutt.”
“Nonsense, dear! You are no such thing,” she insisted, stepping a bit closer. She reached behind Raina and pulled loose the two black chopsticks that held her already slightly disarranged hair in place. “You are exotic, and you are incredibly beautiful. You should feel no shame for the fact that you owe your features to the people of more than one land. In today’s world, all cultures have begun to influence and spread into one another like never before. You exemplify the new world in its diversity with your beauty.”
Nervously licking her lips and almost cutting her tongue once more upon her own fangs, Raina murmured, “Thank you.”
“The rest, please,” Duvessa said after a moment, walking around to stand behind her once again. “You may leave your things upon the floor for now.”
Raina’s heart was thudding in her throat as she bent to carefully slip off her stockings. Why was this necessary? What purpose did being naked serve? What could Duvessa see when Raina was naked that she could not have already seen when she was already down to her skivvies? Was she looking for tattoos? Piercings? Scars? Moles? Freckles? Imperfections of some other sort? What could she possibly be hiding under what little remained? She certainly was not armed. Raina could not help but to look across to the bed where her sword
lay, far out of her reach and useless to defend her against what now seemed to be the greatest of all threats – her own naïve, silly fears.
Dropping her underwear to the floor at last, she stood tall with a small sigh and kept her eyes directed ahead after she stepped out of her thong, her gaze drifting only slightly downward to the telephone on the oak nightstand beside the bed. She had a stupid urge to run for it, to call for help … but really, who would help her now? Nobody could help her. She was on her own in this matter … and really, what was there to fear at that point, anyhow? She was naked, utterly and completely. This was as bad as it got, right? This was about as vulnerable as she had ever felt in her entire life – human, vampire, or otherwise – and even if she were foolish enough to suddenly choose to fight her way out of this situation, it would have been a pointless effort. Naked, unarmed, and without options, nobody could help her … and really, who would, anyhow? Since when did anyone rescue one vampire from another vampire? To dive for that telephone, she may as well have used it to order a pizza, for all the good that it would have done.
Warm, soft hands fell upon her shoulders again as she waited. This time, she was not startled. She was just going to accept it, all of it. Whatever was done to her, she was willing to accept. She had no real choice in the matter. This was truly inevitability in its truest form. As such, not only was she not surprised by the sensation of warm, bare flesh pressing against her back, but she did not object to it, either. This was fate – why fight it? And if this was the least that she would have to endure, compared to so many other horrible things that could be committed against her by others, then perhaps it was simply best to enjoy it. Conscious decisions aside, her body had already written up its own agenda far in advance of her mind, as she found herself leaning back as Duvessa embraced her from behind, wrapping her arms about her waist and pressing her breasts into her back, soft but yet firm, feverishly hot, and so very alive.
“My dear Raina,” Duvessa whispered into her ear, “I must be as honest with you now as you have been with me. I have been preferential towards sharing my bed with men, but this has long been an issue of appearances. The world, for the most part, does not accept the natural tendencies of the High Court as moral, so I have publicly kept my own inclinations in check. However, as I am sure you have either been told or have figured out for yourself, I do not truly allow the petty issue of gender to determine whom I find worthy of sharing my bed. As I have said, there are many preconceived notions and inhibitions that you must learn to let go. Only then may you fully embrace whom and what you are, as a vampire of the High Court. As Duchess, and my sole heiress, this is not something that you may afford to neglect at all. Being true to your sexual urges is as much a necessity among the House of Fallamhain as is your thirst for blood.”
As she spoke, Duvessa nuzzled her face into the crook of Raina’s neck. Her hands ran gently over the flat of her stomach, not so much exploring as merely savoring the smooth texture of her flesh. There was no point in trying to hide her anxiety, as Raina’s hands were trembling, her knees becoming more and more weak. Surprisingly, Duvessa seemed only slightly less nervous. She could feel the faintest of tremors in her hands, which were slightly damp with perspiration, and there was a subtle jitter to the Grand Duchess’s words as she murmured, an unsteadiness in her breathing. It was entirely possible that Raina’s own anxiety was so great that it truly was putting Duvessa on edge, too. But something within her told her that she was perhaps truly nervous on her own, overcome with excitement for the idea of what was taking place … as well as into what it might lead.
“In all blunt honesty, I would like nothing more right now than to feed upon you in body and in blood,” Duvessa told her, caressing her sides and allowing her nails to ever so slightly brush against the sides of Raina’s breasts. “How does it make you feel to know that?”
“You can sense my feelings,” Raina replied, now keeping her eyes closed. “You probably don’t need to ask me that to know the answer.”
“I can sense your emotions,” she acknowledged, “but I cannot explicitly read your mind. Emotional empathy only allows a vague idea of what a person truly is thinking. For example, I know that when I do this…” Duvessa cupped her breasts and gently but firmly pinched her dark nipples between thumb and forefinger. Raina gasped. “…you find it to be quite arousing. But this does not tell me the words that go through your mind. I cannot sense your every thought. So … please, tell me.”
Raina was leaning back against Duvessa almost completely now. Her breath was becoming a bit more labored, a bit more shallow, and combined with the mild effects of alcohol that were only now beginning to vaguely settle in, she felt a bit woozy as she allowed her head to lay back upon Duvessa’s shoulder. Again, there was no point in lying, no point in trying to be vague. She had never been a great liar, and especially now, it was utterly pointless for her to even try.
“I was afraid that this was going to happen,” Raina finally admitted. “I was hoping that I was wrong, because I didn’t want to make any assumptions about you, but I had a feeling that you would do this.”
“Afraid that I would do what?” Duvessa asked rather innocently, tweaking her nipples once more and drawing a small sound from Raina.
“What you’re doing right now.”
“I’m only touching you.”
“You’re … trying to seduce me.”
“Am I, now?” she asked almost coyly. “I think you are attaching more significance to this than what is really here. I am simply touching you because I wish to, and because I fancy you. Is that so wrong?”
She hesitated. “But I don’t know you at all.”
“That is exactly why I wish for you to share my bed,” Duvessa replied easily. Her right hand began to drift down her belly. “You may not yet understand my reasons for this, but in time, you will. You are still thinking of this as a human would see it. You must learn to let go of that.” Her hand began to caress her inner thigh. “Why did you fear this? What do you find most unsettling about the idea of being with me? Are you intimidated by who I am?”
“A little bit.”
“What else? Is it because you are still not comfortable with yourself? That you have not yet accepted and adjusted to whom and what you are?”
“That, too.”
Duvessa nudged her ankle against one of Raina’s, silently directing her to part her feet a bit more. “What is it that disturbs you the most?”
“I … I’ve never … been with another girl.”
Duvessa chuckled softly. She laid her lips upon the side of Raina’s neck and ever so slightly poked her fangs into her flesh, though not enough to break the skin. Raina gasped deeply, her whole body tensing with fearful anticipation, just as she had reminded herself not to do earlier.
Taking her mouth away to whisper in her ear again, she told her, “I am no mere girl, Raina. I am a woman, and I am a vampire.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
She hesitated. What the hell.
“No.”
Duvessa’s lower hand moved up higher, touching her not only directly but, after gathering a bit of moisture, also deeply. Raina could not be bothered to restrain the sound that escaped her, though it was not a terribly loud noise … yet. Her head was spinning, her mind reeling with thoughts, fear, excitement, and the developing buzz of the drinks she had already downed.
“So, in this regard, you are essentially a virgin?” Duvessa asked as she withdrew her touch before caressing her with only one finger. “You truly have not been with another female before?”
“Almost.”
“How so?” she quizzed, moving her finger in a slow, circular motion.
Raina felt as though she were on the verge of soon being unable to speak intelligibly. “What you’re doing … right now … is a first.”
“Then perhaps I should stop.”
Raina abruptly grabbed Duvessa’s wrists before she could move them
away, the first time she had ever directly touched the Grand Duchess in any way. “Please … don’t.”
“You should share this with Lady Brenna. I would not feel right taking this honor from her.”
“No,” Raina insisted softly, “it’s okay. I … I want this. I really do.”
“I’m flattered by your eagerness, but … quite frankly,” she said, “I’m not entirely certain that you would know how to adequately pleasure me.”
Raina turned around in her arms and, without even thinking twice, pulled her into a kiss that was as natural, passionate, and sensual as any she’d ever known before. This only surprised Duvessa for just a moment, but she welcomed it. Keeping it brief, Raina ended the kiss only to nuzzle her face into the delicious perfume scent at the pit of Duvessa’s throat, an expensive musk she could not identify by name but she immediately loved and would forever remember.
“Teach me,” she said. “I want to know how.”
“Oh? And why should I?” Duvessa asked.
Raina hesitated, shrugging lightly as she pulled away for a moment. She struggled to think of a rational motivation, a legitimate excuse to justify what she was doing in that moment … even though she had no idea what she was doing, or why. Consciously, she knew that this was wrong. This was nothing she would have elected to do on her own. She already knew that she would deeply regret this, and she couldn’t even imagine how Brenna would react to it. And yet, in spite of all that … she couldn’t help herself. It felt necessary, if not inevitable.
“For future reference?” she finally responded.
“Oh, really? So, you intend to use me, the Grand Duchess … for practice?”
Duvessa’s soft chuckle brought a warm breath across her face. Her breath was sweet, minty, clean, and pure, and the taste of her kiss lingered deliciously upon Raina’s tongue. The metal of the golden chain and ankh that still hung about the Grand Duchess’s neck was surprisingly cold against her cheek in contrast to her otherwise surprising heat. Both Duvessa’s skin and her own were clearly aglow, even in the ambient light of the dawn that had just broken over the mountains outside, behind the thick curtains. Boldly, Raina slid her hands up along Duvessa’s sides before taking her small, firm breasts in hand, feeling completely strange and awkward in doing so but nevertheless excited. The pit of her stomach was knotted with what she could only liken to a sensation of falling, as though she had just leapt from an airplane and was freefalling nose-first toward the Earth with reckless abandon.
The Darkest Colors Page 38