Page 12 of Even Vampires Bleed
It’s this word in the middle that gets me stuck. “In theory?”
“Are you telling me that you never slept with a woman, Léandre?” I ask. My voice is soft and cautious. I don’t think he wanted to let that slip out, but I can’t forget it just like that.
I feel him shrug at my back, but his hands still don’t move over my body.
“Would that make me unattractive?” Léandre asks. His question is as soft as mine, and I realize he might really think it makes him unattractive.
“No, it wouldn’t change what I think about you,” I answer cautiously. I should be saying more. I should tell him that his sexual experience—or lack thereof—should never change how someone sees him, but I’m cut short by his next words.
“I just don’t want to die,” he whispers so low I’m not sure he meant for me to hear any of it, and I feel him completely deflated and hopeless.
I want to turn in his arms and look at him, but he’s holding me close, and I can’t really move.
“You’re not going to die, Léandre. I’m sure my dad and Elhyor are going to find a solution.”
I hear him flinch at my back.
“What?” I ask.
“Don’t get it wrong, but sweetheart, I don’t want to talk about your dad when all I can think about right now is how I want to hear you scream my name while I’m making you come on my cock.”
Did it suddenly get hot? Because I’m burning.
“All I want is for you to let me slide my hand down so I can finally finger that sweet cunt of yours before eating it,” he adds.
Oh and shoot. I’m doing it.
All at the same time, I arch my back and lay my left hand on top of his.
I hear him hiss softly. Emboldened by my moves, his right hand squeezes my breast and the left one dips to my aching pussy.
8
Cassiopé
Léandre doesn’t leave me wanting for long. His middle finger dips inside of me almost in the next second.
“Are you this wet for me, Little Luciole?” he asks, full of cockiness.
“Stop being an ass and make me come,” I tell him, matching his cockiness.
“Yes, ma’am,” he whispers in my ear as he gathers some of my wetness on his finger so he can spread it on my throbbing clit. “Bossy little thing that you are.”
I can hear the smile in his voice, but I completely forget about it when he starts rubbing fast little circles on my clit that leaves me breathless.
And he said he was a virgin?
“My readings can be enlightening,” he tells me, and I realize that I might have thought that out loud. At least he’s not taking it badly, because coupled with his fingers—his index joined the middle one—his lips are trailing a burning path against my throat and his right hand is still very much teasing my nipple.
He’s not in a hurry. He’s teasing as if we have all the time in the world, and slowly, I can feel my body grow hotter and hotter.
He keeps alternating between dipping his fingers inside of me and rubbing them against my clit. Each time I feel like I’m on the precipice of my orgasm, he changes the way his fingers move. If that didn’t look so deliberate, I would believe he just doesn’t know any better.
Except I’m a writhing mess of need and all I want is to finally come, but Léandre seems too happy torturing me.
“You’re being an ass again,” I tell him, and I barely recognize myself from the way my voice sounds breathless. “Let me come.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Little Luciole. You’re not the one in command right now. I decide when you come,” he growls.
