Page 54 of Bite
I try to follow his order, but all I can see is the perfect hair, the long legs, the effortless way the other donors slip out of their clothes and into the arms of strangers. I attempt to pick out something that feels safe, something I could imagine myself wanting, but every scene is a few degrees too intense, a few notches past anything I’ve ever dared.
Then my eyes land on a man across the room, sprawled in an armchair while a vamp woman kneels between his legs. He’s got a runner’s build and dark skin, mouth twisted in pleasure. The vamp’s head bobs with slow, practiced motions, and the man’s hands are buried in her auburn hair, knuckles white with restraint. He looks like he’s seconds from losing control, and something about the tension in his body– the way he’s holding back, fighting for composure– hits another button in me.
I quickly avert my eyes, but not before James picks up on the way I’m blushing.
“There’s no need to be embarrassed here,” he drawls. “Everyone in this room either gets off on watching or knowing they’re being watched. If you want to look, then look.”
My cheeks burn, but I force myself to look again, to actually watch the scene unfold. The man’s head tips back, mouth open on a moan, and the vamp at his feet picks up her pace, eyes glittering up at him as she works him over. I can see the shape of his cock, the thick length of it glistening with spit. For a moment, I imagine what it would feel like to be the one on my knees, to have that kind of power and effect over someone in front of an audience. Or to be the one being pleasured, with the entire room watching…
The thought is embarrassing and electrifying all at once. My thighs squeeze together involuntarily, and when I risk a glance at James, his pale blue eyes are locked on me, expression unreadable.
“Does that turn you on?” he questions.
The urge to lie is overwhelming, but I don’t. “Yes,” I whisper.
His hand slides higher on my thigh, fingers brushing the bare skin just under the hem of my dress. “Do you want to try it?”
I swallow thickly. “With you?”
His lips curve in a knowing grin. “Not with me, darling. You’re not ready to be fucked by a vampire yet, and if I had you on your knees, I wouldn’t be able to resist.” His thumb circles the inside of my thigh, inching higher. “Pick a human. Anyone you like.”
“You want me to…”
He cuts me off with a look, his gaze so intense that it nearly knocks the breath out of me. “I want you to learn what you like. Explore the possibilities, test your boundaries.”
Consideringhe’sthe one I want to test my boundaries with, this feels almost cruel. “And you’ll watch?” I ask tentatively.
He nods, eyes darkening. “I’ll definitely be watching.”
My pulse kicks up a notch, the thought of it sending a thrill skittering through me. My mind scrambles for safe harbor, but finds nothing– because there’s nothingsafeabout any of this. Still, I’m too intrigued, too tempted to back out now. I look around the room, scanning for someone to walk down this dangerous road with.
My eyes land back on the dark-skinned man in the chair, his dick slick and bobbing as the vamp works him with both hands. He looks up and meets my gaze, and the slow, cocky smile that spreads across his face is somehow both infuriating and inviting.
I turn back to James. “Him,” I say, barely above a whisper.
James’ smile is wicked. “Excellent choice.” He calls across the room, deep voice perfectly modulated for maximum attention. “Sylvie, can our donors play together?”
The vamp woman– Sylvie, apparently– snaps her head around, wiping her mouth with the back of a hand. “Of course, my king,” she purrs, rising gracefully to her feet. She nods at the man to follow, and he stands with a lazy grin, cock hanging heavy between his thighs.
James helps me to my feet, smoothing the skirt of my dress with proprietary hands. Then he leans in, lips at my ear. “Show me what you want,mea dulcis. Don’t hold back.”
My heart thunders in my chest as I step away from him and toward the man I’ve chosen. He’s tall, his smile confident, posture loose and inviting.
“I’m Sam,” he greets as I approach, offering me a hand.
“M-Marilyn,” I manage, placing mine in his. His skin is warm, palm calloused in a way that feels safe and anchoring.
“First time at one of these?” he asks, and when I nod, he just laughs, soft and easy. “Don’t worry. You’re in good hands.”
He leads me to the bed in the middle of the room, which has miraculously been vacated thanks to some silent directive from James. The people that were on it have now found their way to the sofas and armchairs, resuming their activities without missing a beat. Sam gently guides me to the center of the mattress, coaxing my legs apart and kneeling between them.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss me, slow and sweet. I let him, hands trembling as I curl them onto his shoulders, hyper-aware of the weight of people’s stares on us.
None is heavier than James’. Even with my eyes closed, I canfeelit– razor sharp and practically searing into my skin. Sam keeps kissing me, his hands sliding up to cup my face, then down my body. I shiver when his fingertips graze the bare skin of mythighs beneath the dress, hands slipping up to bunch the fabric around my hips.
He breaks our kiss, glancing down at the exposed lace of my panties with an appreciative smile. “Damn. The king has taste.”
I laugh, more out of nerves than amusement.
