Page 50 of The Witch in the Dead of Night

He tutted as he ran a finger along the front of my bodice, his dark eyes gleaming. “This gown is beautiful,” he sighed. “But I’m afraid we won’t be able to get very far with you still in it.”

My cheeks flushed. “Oh?”

He took my hand and pulled me to my feet. Gooseflesh covered the skin of my arms. Placing his hands on my hips, he spun me around until I was staring at a portrait of the third King of Valen, which hung upon the opposite wall. My eyes fluttered shut as Mordric ran his fingers through my hair, sweeping it like a curtain over my shoulder. He trailed a finger slowly down my spine to its base, where he began loosening the knots that held my bodice together.

I held my breath as he slowly unraveled the laces. It was agony to wait. As the fabric began to give, I clasped the bodice to my chest to keep it from falling to the floor. My heartbeat pounded against my closed fist. He knew exactly what he was doing to me, I realized. He knew that a carnal instinct was rearing its head inside me, hungry for more. I bit my lip.

When he was finally done, I turned to face him, hovering mere inches from his chest. The scent of ink reached my nose as he leaned in close and trailed his thumb along my bottom lip. My buttocks pressed against the hard edge of the table. My gaze dropped to his lips. Curse me.

“I fear you will be my undoing,” he whispered, as if to himself.

I frowned, but before I could respond, I found his lips on mine. His fingers wound around mine, loosing my hold on my bodice. It fell to the floor, his gaze dropping with it. He stiffened, running his tongue along his lips.

“You’re beautiful,” is all he said.

Unable to contain myself, I threw my arms around his neck and returned his kiss with fervor. His tongue parted my lips as his fingers tangled in my hair. The hardness pressed against my thigh was confirmation that his want was as strong as mine.

“I need you,” I whispered in his ear as he landed kisses along my collarbone, his fangs brushing my skin. For a moment, I was overwhelmed with the unnerving desire to feel them inside me. “Now.”

His teasing was done. The vampire king unraveled the laces of my shift with inhuman swiftness, seams ripping as he practically tore it off of me. His gaze grew ravenous as he lowered his mouth to my breasts. He flicked his tongue, tracing circles over my bare skin. I tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it unceremoniously to the floor. I ran my hand along the taut muscles of his chest. He was built like a warrior, I thought. My hand sank lower. I wanted to explore every inch of him.

Grabbing me by the backs of my thighs, he lifted me onto the table. His hand crept up my inner thigh, teasing me as he got closer and closer to the part of me that ached the most for his touch. I writhed against him, gasping as his fingers slipped inside. My arousal allowed them to glide seamlessly in and out of me. A whimper escaped me as he paused.

“Don’t stop,” I begged.

He straightened suddenly, forcing me down onto the table. A giggle escaped me as silver goblets crashed against the floor, clattering across the marble floors. “Someone might come running in here thinking we’re in trouble,” I protested weakly.

“Oh?” he said, loosing his breeches with one hand. I moaned as he kissed the hollow of my throat, his arousal flush against my thigh. “Do you think they’ll hear you? Something tells me you’re going to be quite loud.”

I shuddered.

“Perhaps I should stop,” he mused, his thumb parting my lips. I tasted myself on his fingertips.

“Don’t you dare,” I whispered.

I gasped as he pressed into me, his hands sliding up my outer thighs, anchoring me in place. Our bodies clashed together as he thrust forward. I wrapped my legs around him, grinding my hips into his. He shuddered and I relished the hungry look in his eyes, the one that I was responsible for. I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth. He rocked forward, his movements becoming more and more urgent as we inched closer to release. Our limbs tangled together as the table rattled beneath us, echoing for all the castle to hear.

Fortunately, no one came running in to save us from ourselves, not even when the table began to rattle again, or when he carried me, wrapped in the tattered remains of my gown, to my chambers where he made love to me a third time. When we finally collapsed, sweating and exhausted, onto the coverlet, I nestled into his chest, the fine hairs that carpeted it tickling my cheek.

My eyes fluttered shut as he ran his fingers through my hair. All my tension had disappeared, drowned in a pool of pure ecstasy. Whether we lay there for minutes, or hours, I couldn’t tell. I didn’t want the evening to end. No, I wanted to stay in his arms forever. But when sleep tugged at my eyelids, I found that I didn’t have the strength to resist.

My back was pressed against cold, damp stone. Ewan stood before me, his blade lingering beneath my chin. The air around his head rippled, revealing a dark sheen. I whimpered as his image twisted, contorting into something else. Something monstrous. His nails lengthened into razor-sharp claws. His eyes, once a pretty, warm brown, glowed red like smoldering embers.

The beast towered above me, flickering as if it was made of shadows. It opened its mouth, revealing a set of grotesque, bloodied fangs.

“Help!” I screamed, my voice echoing down the empty alley.

“Finn,” came a stern voice. “Wake up.”

I screamed again, but no one was coming to save me. The creature’s claws brushed against my shoulder. I struggled, the blade nicking my throat.

I shot to a seat, nearly butting heads with Mordric. His handsome features were pulled into a frown. My heart pounded furiously in my chest as my surroundings came into focus. I sucked in a shaky breath, dragging my forearm over my brow. It came away slick with sweat.

“You’re safe,” he said, stroking my hair. “It was just a dream.”

I was safe. I was safe because of him. And Ewan was dead. “I’m sorry,” I rasped. “I had a nightmare.”

I shuddered as Mordric slipped an arm around my shoulders, my skin pebbling at his cool touch. The image of the monster flashed behind my eyes once again. Ever since I’d left home, I had dreamed of only one thing night after night—flames in a brilliant shade of blue. Now, it appeared that my mind was intent on torturing me with new imagined horrors.