Page 17 of Vampires of Eden: Oliver
“This doesn’t bother you? To speak casually like this, with me?”
Now I’m confused. “No. Why would it?”
He pauses, tall and working his jaw. Assessing me and making some decision in his mind. “Hm… alright. I look forward to working with you. Goodnight, your grace.”
“You can just call me Oliver?”
“I cannot. If someone overheard me casually calling you by your first name, they’d think that I’d forgotten my place and would swiftly create a new home for me in the dungeons that I’m sure are still in existence underneath this castle.”
I hear what he’s saying, but… “No one is around—”
“Your grace, are we alright? Are we not on the same page?”
“Yes, okay, okay—we are. I’m sorry. Goodnight.” I nod, conceding as I turn, but Aries grins with his beautiful lips as he closes the door.
The funny thing is, I’m smiling, too, as I walk up the stairs to my room. Even after I’ve showered and changed into my pajamas and am lying in bed, I’m still grinning like crazy.
ChapterSeven
There’s a soft knock at my bedroom door early the next morning. Opening my eyes, I lie still in bed and take a deep breath to sense the vampire on the other side.
It’s Alexander.
No, thank you.
I turn over and nestle down, staying silent.
But then the door creaks open and I bolt upright. “Hey.”
“Good morning, my love.”
“What’s good about it? I didn’t give you permission to come in.”
“Mm, it smells like Oliver amplified in here. It’s yummy.” He pushes the door closed behind him and swaggers over to my bed. “Why didn’t you answer me? You’re awake.”
“I am now.” I frown as he sits on the edge of the mattress. Why does everything about him grate on me? “You have a lot to learn about respecting boundaries.”
His expression is unbothered. “That’s our problem—you and all your boundaries.” He pokes my thigh through the duvet, and I jump and scoot away. He frowns. “You’re my mate, Ollie.”
“I am not. Not yet. Nothing is official—”
“Oh, it’s official. We’re locked into this through literal contracts and social obligation. I want us to have a genuine bond, Oliver James Blakeley. Not a fake one—like Sasha’s, where everyone just turns a blind eye and pretends. I want us to bereal. And my mother won’t accept anything less.”
Perfect, exactly what I need. More pressure. I push the duvet down and draw my legs up to fold them as I sit back against the headboard. Welp, this day is off to a horrendous start.
“What turned you on last night?” he asks. His voice is suddenly softer. “Tell me.”
Rubbing my eyes with my fingertips, I sigh, then run my hands up and through my messy bedhead. Who just walks into someone’s room like this uninvited? “Nothing. I told you, I wasn’t paying attention.”
The bed shifts as Alexander scoots closer and rests his palms on either side of my hips so that I’m trapped. He’s too close to my face, so I draw back and away. “Don’t—”
“Maybe you should not pay attention more often?”
“You’re not supposed to be in here like this,” I say, turning my head to the side.
“We need to practice. We could start with kissing, at least? You don’t seem to have much experience in that area, either. Can I kiss you?”
“No.” My face is hot yet again, so I shove him. He falls onto his back as I climb off the bed. When I’m standing, I turn and face him. “Telling me that I don’t have much experience doesn’t help. It doesn’t make me feel good—or very inclined to practice anything with you.”
