Page 17 of Tryst or Treat (Season’s Readings #3)

A triumphant thrill ran through Belladonna. She hadn’t expected him to agree to her terms, and this shift in their relationship excited her. She hadn’t spoken to her parents or her friends in months, and loneliness had started to set in. Broomstick, Fang, and Jinx were excellent company, but cats weren’t people. She missed the coven and her family, and against her will, she missed Vlad when he wasn’t around. Their marriage began with turmoil and anger, but the more her magic swelled in his presence, the more she wondered if he was her destiny in disguise.

“Thank you,” Belladonna said as she stood up.

“Don’t thank me until after dinner,” Vlad said. “Your mother and I have yet to be in the same room without a conflict of some sort. You could have a disaster on your hands.”

“I’ve never been there, though.” She moved to his chair and leaned against the table. “Neither of you wants to hurt me, so your dynamic will be different.”

“That’s true.” Vlad leaned back, and the way his eyes lingered on her witchy black dress told her it had been the right choice for dinner. “For your sake, I’ll try my best to uphold the peace.”

“I appreciate it.” She gestured to his drink. “Can I have some?” She preferred the wine, the bottle an exquisite vintage, but her request wasn’t about the alcohol. And by the look in her husband’s eyes, he understood her meaning.

Vlad handed her the crystal glass, and she accepted it, lifting the liquor to her lips. She took a sip, the whiskey burning as it slid down her throat, and while she didn’t savor the flavor, she loved that the glass tasted of him. Staring down at her husband, she read the feral need flooding his dark eyes, and she lifted the glass again. She moved slowly, this sip for his pleasure, not hers, and she tipped the glass back. Vlad’s voice rumbled in his chest at the sight, but he kept his hands to himself. He simply watched his wife drink his whiskey, and when Belladonna pulled the last of the liquid into her mouth, she leaned over him.

With a heady sense of power, she savored how Vlad’s chest heaved at her closeness, and with her sharp, black-manicured nails, she gripped his jaw. She forced his head back and stepped between his thighs, holding his chin with a grip of ownership, and after a long but silent exchange, Vlad opened his mouth.

Belladonna leaned over him until they were almost kissing, and mimicking their encounter at the club, she spat the whiskey shot into her husband’s mouth. Vlad swallowed every last drop she offered, and suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. The intensity in his gaze sucked the air from the room, from her lungs, and before she could register his movements, her husband caught her by the waist and shoved her back onto the table.

She gasped as he pushed himself between her thighs, and with powerful hands designed for death, he gripped her face with rough possession.

“Beg,” he growled, pushing closer until her legs wrapped around his hips.

“No.” She stared up at him defiantly.

“Beg,” he ordered.

“No.”

“Beg for it, little witch.” He lowered his lips until he was barely a centimeter away. “Now.”

“Never.” Her legs tightened around his waist, forcing him against her until her head was spinning. It was too much. She craved him with every fiber of her being, with every breath in her lungs. She wanted her husband. So, she slid her hand over his abs, down to the bulge in his pants. She gripped his thick cock, loving the way his grip hardened on her jaw, and she tilted her mouth until her lips just brushed his.

“But I will say please,” she moaned, and that was all the permission Vlad needed. His mouth slammed against her, kissing her ruthlessly, and Belladonna felt dizzy from the intensity. She instantly felt drunk at his touch, at how his lips owned hers, and she kissed him back with a ferocity she’d never gifted a man before. Her arms wrapped around his neck as her legs tightened around his hips, and she pressed her chest into his. Their kiss deepened, and she was vaguely aware of his hands in her hair, pulling her with such dominance that she thought she might come from the kiss alone.

“Open for me, little witch,” Vlad said against her mouth, and she obeyed, letting his tongue taste her. Whiskey still lingered on his lips, and she bit down, desperate for more of him. She felt out of control, like she would let this vampire do anything with her body, but what made the sensation so powerful was she suspected he felt the same. His kiss was primal and raw, filled with a longing she knew he’d never experienced with another woman, and her magic burned her from the inside out. It was pure bliss to sense a man touch her magic, and if this was how her husband affected her with a kiss, how would her power blossom if he consummated their marriage?

“Ow,” Belladonna jerked backward, her hand flying to her stinging lips, and her fingers came away bloody.

“Fuck.” Vlad cupped her face and stared down at her bleeding mouth. “I’m sorry. My fangs came out by accident. I normally have excellent discipline, but you smell so fucking good. You taste even better, little witch.” He lifted his thumb to her lip and brushed the drop of blood off before lifting it to his tongue. He licked it off his finger while holding her gaze, and Bella almost climaxed at the sight. She knew vampires fed off their mates to help create bonds. It was similar to how her magic grew stronger in his presence, and she swallowed with nerves. If he couldn’t control his fangs around her…

“It’s okay.” She seized his face and kissed him, letting him lick the blood on her lips as the implication his fangs presented raced through her white-hot and shocking. “I want you… I want you to taste me.”

“Be very careful what you’re asking for, wife.” Vlad grabbed her thigh and yanked her against him, letting her feel how hard he was. “I am not a good man. And while I refuse to take anything from you without your consent, I must warn you. I crave you in the most unholy way. You’re a beautiful woman, inside and out, and I desire you in ways that might scare you.”

“You don’t scare me, angel of death,” she challenged.

“I should.”

“Well, maybe I want to be afraid. It’s almost Halloween. Maybe I want you to terrify me.”

“Wife…” Vlad warned, but he only managed the single word before she slammed her lips against his. Belladonna ki ssed him roughly, biting his lip as she moaned. His kiss was like a drug, and she was already addicted. She never wanted to kiss another man after this because no one could compare to her husband.

“Fuck.” Vlad gripped the bottom of her dress and ripped it from her body in one swift motion before grabbing her bare waist and yanking her against him. His eyes darkened dangerously at the realization that she had nothing on under her clothes, her soft breasts pressing against his still-clothed chest. Belladonna smiled at his temporary shock. She hadn’t expected to end up naked on the dining room table, but something about having dinner with her handsome husband without a single undergarment beneath her clothing had excited her. She liked the fantasy of his tattooed hand sliding up her thighs to enter her without resistance, and by the almost violent expression on his face, Vlad felt the same.

“Do you trust me not to hurt you?” he asked, his voice thick with need.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Good girl, little witch.” He sat in the chair and dragged her to the edge of the table, forcing her thighs wide. “So fucking beautiful,” he whispered to himself as he studied her. “Tell me if you need me to stop, because I could feast on this perfect pussy all night and never be satisfied.”

Vlad lowered his mouth to her, giving her a long and torturous lick before he started. His tongue moved inside her, licking and sucking and biting like a man possessed, and Belladonna grabbed his head as her eyes fluttered in pleasure. His mouth knew exactly what she needed, exactly how she wanted it, and it was as if they’d been a couple for years. He knew her body as if it was his own, as if it was his job to bring her the stars, and before long she couldn’t contain herself. She writhed against his face, riding him as she screamed. It was the most exquisite form of torture seeing him feast between her thighs. Watching the angel of death fuck her with his tongue was more than she could bear, and she tangled her fingers through his hair, pulling so hard she knew it must hurt. If it did, he didn’t let on. He only increased his efforts, making it impossible for her to breathe.

“Vlad, I’m going to come.”

“Not yet, little witch,” he ordered. “You’re not allowed to come, not until I give you permission.”

“Vlad, please.” She writhed against him. “I can’t hold back any longer.”

“Don’t you dare.” He ripped his mouth away from her, but before she could protest his loss, he pushed two fingers inside her. She gasped at the sight of his tattooed hand fucking her, and then he lowered his lips to her thigh. He kissed her softly before meeting her gaze.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked. “I’ve never drank from a partner. You would be my first.”

“Yes,” she moaned. “I want to be your first.” And she meant it. Pride filled her chest as she watched his fangs descend. She was his wife and the only woman he’d been open to bonding with. She was suddenly happy she’d been celibate for the past year because she wanted this moment to be a pure and unadulterated memory.

“Good fucking girl,” Vlad said as his fangs pierced her skin. He dug deep into her thigh, her blood pumping from her veins as his fingers pumped inside her. The pain stung for a second, and then her magic exploded within her chest. It was an entire body high, her power mixing with his as he drank, and the sight of her husband feeding from her as his fingers fucked her pushed her over the edge.

“Now, wife,” Vlad ordered. “I want to taste your orgasm in your blood. I want you to come while my fingers are deep inside your cunt.”

Belladonna’s climax took her by surprise. She shook as she came on his hand. He groaned against her bloody leg, his fingers continuing to thrust until she was too sensitive, and then he pulled back to meet her gaze. Blood dripped down her legs to mix with her wetness, and even though she’d just had the best orgasm of her life, it wasn’t enough. She was still desperate for him.

“Fuck,” Vlad whispered, as if he was in shock. “You… your blood… how is this possible?” He stood up, a thin trace of her blood on his jaw, and she leaned forward, kissing it off him. Her magic pulsed out of control as their lips met, as if the wards no longer worked, and she knew. Fate had brought her to this man. There was no other explanation.

“How did I taste?” she asked as he dragged her off the table and spun her around, bending her over. Her hands slapped the wood, and she thrust back against him, grinding her ass against his thick length with desperation. She needed him to shed his clothes, to learn how his skin felt against hers.

“Like heaven and hell.” Vlad grabbed her chin and twisted her neck so he could kiss her as he covered her spine with his still-clothed chest. “Like perfection and power and the only woman I want for the rest of my life. You are mine, Belladonna. Mine for all eternity. My wife, my lover, my little witch.”

“Vlad, please—” she started, but he suddenly lunged away from her, putting too much distance between him and her overheated skin. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Someone’s coming.” The vampire ruler resumed control of her husband, and he grabbed his suit jacket off the chair and wrapped it carefully around her shoulders.

“Sir?” Bartholomew’s voice said as he peeked through the door.

“What?” Vlad angled his body to conceal her.

“It’s bad. We need you. ”

“Shit.” Vlad looked at her, and her blissful glow sickened to fear at her husband’s sudden seriousness. “Belladonna, I want you to go upstairs to my bedroom.”

“Okay.” She nodded, scooping her dress up from the floor. He cupped her cheek and kissed her lips softly, and it surprised her he willingly displayed such tenderness for her in front of another vampire.

“Do me a favor,” he said, as he and Bartholomew left the dining room. “Lock yourself inside until I get home.”