Page 165 of Filthy Rich Vampires: For Eternity

I knew he meant it. If I wanted to stay, if I wanted to experiment, he would leash himself. He would accept it. My need ratcheted to crisis levels.

Tempting. I bit back a laugh and slipped my hand back into his. But I’d rather have you all to myself. Now.

So impatient. He aimed us toward the door opposite the one we’d entered through. I have an idea...

That leads to the throne room.

The smile that flashed under his mask told me he already knew. I shivered.

As we approached it, someone called to us. “It’s off-limits. Warded.”

I merely grinned at the concerned male and slipped past with my mate.

“Good thing I’m with the Queen,” he said as we stepped inside and the orgy next door silenced. It seemed the ward shielded the room from people and noise. Not even the thumping bass of the ballroom’s music breached it.

“You’ve got me alone. What are you going to do with me?” I challenged him.

It was the wrong thing to say—or maybe the right thing—because I found myself over his shoulder. Julian hauled me toward the dais and deposited me on my throne. The flames of my dress brushed across its arms but didn’t catch. Before I could protest, he dropped to one knee, then the other.

He grinned up at me, wicked intent gleaming in his black eyes. “Since I first saw you claim this, I have fantasized about this moment.” He rucked my skirt up. “Now I finally have my chance.”

The rough leather of his gloves gripped my thighs and yanked me to the edge of the seat, he growled approval at finding me bare.

Not a conscious choice. The magic had created every stitch I was wearing. I tried not to think of why it had left panties out. It probably had something to do with the ballroom next door.

He kissed my inner thigh, his mouth trailing to where I ached for him. My fingers clutched the arms of the throne as he teased me, nipping at my skin.

“My Queen,” he growled when his taunting lips reached the apex of my thighs and dragged his tongue up my center, roaring with approval at my taste.

I arced against that silken tongue and the pleasure it promised. Julian moved, allowing the scales of his mask to graze my swollen core, and I cried out his name.

Each lash sent me bucking against his wicked, tireless tongue. I threaded my hands through his hair, my legs coiling over his broad shoulders as he wound me closer to release with each stroke.

But I didn’t want him on his knees. He belonged on the throne with me. My mate. My equal.

I need you inside me.

His mouth clamped down, sucking lightly but not releasing me altogether.

Please.

Julian lifted his head, ink-black eyes boring into me, into my very soul, slowly untangled himself from me. His hands went to his leather pants as he rose, freeing himself in one swift motion.

“How will you have me?” His voice was pure midnight.

I stood on trembling legs, my sex aching for release. “With me.”

He swept his cloak from his shoulders before sinking into the throne. His arms sprawled lazily over the arms, his cock jutting proudly from his undone pants. I bit my lip as I drank him in, savored the primal, brutal masculinity rolling from him.

He lifted one hand and beckoned me with his finger. “I’m at your service.”

I lifted my skirt to my waist, its flames dancing harmlessly over my skin, and crawled onto his lap. Julian’s hand moved between my legs, angling his cock until it nudged against my entrance, his thumb coaxing the pulse above it in slow, languid circles.

I moaned at the unholy combination, my eyes shutting to everything but the sensation as I speared myself on him.

Julian welcomed me with a low, possessive snarl and hooked an arm around my neck, drawing me closer. I smelled myself on his lips and didn’t blush. Not when my scent belonged there, belonged on every inch of his body. His cock plunged deeper as if he could fuse our beings into one. I gasped as he filled me, as I claimed what was mine, what had always been, what would always be mine.

But I needed more. I reached for his mask and it gave way, transforming back into its simple white shell. The rest of the spell lingered as I stared into his eyes, flames wreathing my body and wrapping around him. I ran my fingers down the leather scales that covered his hard chest as I rode him on the throne. My knees knocked into its arms but I didn’t care. Not with his gaze boring into mine, claiming my soul while I claimed his body.

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