Page 8 of Blood Day (Blood Alliance #7)

Lily

I couldn’t stop thinking about Master Cedric’s banana and the way he’d fed it to me last night.

Maybe because I was on my knees in sexual arts class with a similar object in my mouth.

An object I kept envisioning as belonging to Master Cedric and not the human male standing before me.

I focused on swirling my tongue, but each swipe resembled a lick between my bare thighs.

Because I kept picturing Master Cedric.

It was his fingers in my hair. His salty essence in my mouth. His groan vibrating the air.

I could picture it so perfectly.

All because of that banana.

And the kiss that had followed.

Maybe it hadn’t really been a kiss. But his lips had touched mine when he’d given me that water. It was a moment that had stolen my breath away. An entire experience that I’d never known was possible.

He’d fed me.

Given me several nights of food .

Then multiple bottles of water.

Oh , it’d been cool water, too. I’d never tasted such heavenly liquid before.

Another groan reverberated through my partner, his grip tightening in my hair.

“Don’t come,” Master Peyton said in a silky voice, her nails gliding along the neck of Prospect Four Hundred and Six. I called him Six for short, just as he called me Sev.

Six and I were often paired in our courses because of our number sequence being one off from the other. We were both the same year. Which meant we would attend our Blood Day together.

His light green eyes pleaded with me to slow my pace, to ensure he met Master Peyton’s orders.

But my task was to make him fall apart with my mouth.

It provided a cruel conflict that meant one of us had to lose.

And I wasn’t going to fail.

Not when I kept envisioning Master Cedric’s midnight irises glistening with dark intent as he’d slid that banana between my lips.

I could so easily pretend this was him, that he’d demanded I kneel and please him.

It would be a sexual performance he wished for me to repeat, not a fight sequence.

And just the thought of that coated my thighs in damp intrigue.

This had never happened to me before. I never felt aroused by the act of giving fellatio. But thinking about Master Cedric made my core throb with forbidden need.

He would never be mine.

I shouldn’t romanticize him or lust after him.

All vampires were inherently seductive. It was part of their predatory appeal. Even Master Peyton possessed a flawless appearance with her pretty black hair and olive-toned skin. She smiled at me now, clearly enjoying this show of sensual torment.

Six didn’t stand a chance.

He was so worked up, his shaft pulsating in my mouth in clear warning.

Master Peyton chastised him, but it didn’t matter.

He exploded on a growl that caused all the hairs along my neck to stand on end.

Would Master Cedric growl, too? Would he fist my hair and thrust himself deeper? How would he taste? Salty like Six? Would I drown in his pleasure? Or would it be over quickly, similar to this experience now?

So many dangerous questions.

I swallowed them all with Six’s essence, my mind picturing Master Cedric instead of the male before me.

I felt dizzy and hot, my body aching for someone I shouldn’t crave.

But that kiss last night.

The way he’d fed me.

The care of his touch.

The heat in his gaze.

It’d all provoked a yearning inside me I couldn’t quite ignore, and I’d taken it out on Six. Which left me feeling empty and oddly unsteady.

Incomplete.

Wrong.

“Well done, Prospect Four Hundred and Seven,” Master Peyton praised, her sharp nails threading through Six’s thick auburn hair. “Come with me, Prospect Four Hundred and Six.”

He swallowed, his pink cheeks going white.

She was about to make an example of him by making him come again in front of the class .

By using her fangs.

I’d seen it done a few times now. Master Peyton called it a training process to help the loser of these games learn orgasm control.

It wasn’t something I’d been subjected to yet, as I hadn’t failed any of my tests. However, that likely had more to do with the course’s design than my actual skill.

The males always lost these games, something I suspected was a result of Master Peyton preferring men.

All of her demonstrations were on the males, never the females. And she always touched the men during our tests, not the women.

The wheels of Master Peyton’s chair whirled across the floor as she shoved Six into the seat. It was much harsher than what Master Cedric had done to me last night. Just as Master Peyton’s movements now were far more predatory than Master Cedric’s had been.

“Don’t make a sound,” Master Peyton demanded as she went to her knees.

Then she lowered her head to Six’s groin.

I held my breath, praying to the Goddess that Six obeyed her command. Because I’d seen what had happened last week when the previous male hadn’t remained quiet.

He wasn’t present today.

He’d failed.

And I suspected he was now dead.

Since this course happened only once every seven days, I hadn’t been sure of his fate. But given his absence, it seemed likely that Master Peyton had finished the job of killing him.

Fortunately, Six didn’t make a sound.

But his face expressed an agony that made my heart squeeze in my chest .

Master Peyton would continue until she felt his training was sufficient.

Or until the bell dismissed us.

We all had one more class before our free day began.

It happened once a week after our fullest class day.

I had four primary courses at the moment. One was a political course about the royal vampires of the world—this one happened twice a week.

Then I had a hospitality course and Master Cedric’s course, both of which occurred six days a week.

The hospitality course was considered to be a vocational focus class, while Master Cedric’s combat training counted as my required daily physical activity.

Sexual arts and my political lessons were considered general education courses, both of which were required but taken at a time of my choosing.

Or that was how my advisor had phrased it.

She was a vampire I’d never actually met in person, but we spoke via a telecommunication screen on a monthly basis. She always reviewed my current marks and curriculum, then shifted my classes around as needed to meet certain requirements.

I never fully understood those requirements, though. She just gave me options and let me pick what I wanted to study.

And lately, she’d been pushing sexual arts as my general education choices.

I was required to take a certain amount before my Blood Day, and I hadn’t met that expectation yet.

So here I was, still on my knees, watching Six silently scream.

By the time the bell rang, I felt numb.

Six was moving, but he appeared just as pale as the male from last week. His cheeks were sunken. His irises were more yellow than green. And his legs were unsteady.

I rinsed out my mouth with the requisite supplies at the back of the locker room before moving to my designated locker to pull on my clothes.

Six stood beside me, his movements slow and his gaze downcast. He seemed to be struggling to pull up his black jeans. Then his fingers trembled so hard that he couldn’t do up his zipper or button his pants, so I reached over to do it for him.

He grumbled something that sounded more like a “Fuck you” than a “Thank you.” But I didn’t take offense to it. I understood his anger. I accepted it. And I helped him pull his shirt over his head even while he glared at me.

We both knew the rules here.

We existed to survive.

I’d done exactly that. He would forgive me eventually. Or he wouldn’t. That decision wouldn’t really matter in a few months after our Blood Day anyway.

Six tried to bend to put on his shoes and flinched violently.

So I went to the ground and helped him.

He didn’t grumble this time, but I could see the misery in his features as I stood again. There was a hint of understanding there as well, along with a note of embarrassment, and maybe a little envy.

I slipped his bag up over his shoulder, then retrieved my own from my locker.

His gaze locked on mine for a long moment, a myriad of emotions escaping his yellow-green irises.

I waited, knowing he needed this—an outlet he could confide in without words.

After a few dark seconds, he swallowed and cleared the reaction from his features. I held out my arm, which he accepted, and I helped him out the door, neither of us uttering a word to each other along the way.

Then we parted ways for our final course of the day.

He wasn’t in Master Cedric’s combat training. I didn’t actually know what Six’s next class was because it had nothing to do with me.

However, a small part of me hoped he made it safely through to his rest day tomorrow.

We weren’t friends, as fraternization was frowned upon here. But we were allies of a sort, and I’d known him all my life.

To lose an acquaintance after twenty-one years would be disappointing. Especially when we were so close to the end of our time here.

Hopefully, he would recover.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed Six from my mind. I needed to focus on my next task—Master Cedric’s combat training.

I’m not failing another test, I decided, ready to face him once more.

I’d practiced several times after returning to my room following our late-night session. And I’d practiced this morning as well.

I’m ready.

This time, he wouldn’t be able to fail me.

I’d prove my worth and make him see my potential.

Then I’d strip for him once more and wait on the mat for our private lesson.

And try very hard not to think about his banana.