An Acquired Taste (The Valentine Society)

Chapter Thirty-Five

W hen we arrive at the estate, the house is silent.

“I gave the staff the weekend off,” Sebastian says as he shuts the door behind us. “It’s just us until tomorrow.”

I smile, turning to face him. “I know.” I kick my sneakers off, and then reach under my dress and pull off my panties, tossing them aside as well.

As Sebastian stares at me, his eyes turn black. His fangs slide out behind his lips. He watches as I discard my dress in a similar fashion and stand naked before him. He approaches me, his hands reaching out to settle on my hips like I’m some delicate thing. I tilt my head back as he kisses my neck, his lips feather-soft, right at the spot where my pulse beats the strongest.

We kiss pressed against the wall in the front parlor, and then on the stairs. He spreads my thighs and dives between them right on the staircase. His tongue is slow and thorough and relentless as his hands hold me wide open for him, his cold mouth bringing me swiftly to a climax I don’t bother to keep quiet. Then he scoops me up in his arms and carries me to his bedroom.

I’ve wondered for so long what was behind this locked door. Now that I see it, I find that I’m hardly surprised. The room has minimalist furniture, a nightstand heaped with old books in various languages. It’s subdued and elegant. Very Sebastian.

He sets me on the edge of the big canopy bed and unbuttons his shirt. When he shrugs it off, my eyes catch on the bite marks on his shoulder.

“I forgot you were hurt,” I say, brow furrowing in concern.

“It’s fine,” he says. “It will heal.”

I bite my lip, watching him undo his belt. “…It’ll be faster if you drink from me.”

His hands pause in their work before resuming again. “It’s really nothing. Hardly a wound.”

“Sebastian.” I wait for him to look up at me and then lie back on the bed, fully naked, and brush my hair behind my shoulders. “I want you to drink from me.”

He sheds the last of his clothes and climbs onto the bed, his weight settling on top of me. His eyes are black with desire, but there’s indecision as his gaze flicks from my neck to my face. “I am not sure if I can control myself.”

“You will,” I say, without an ounce of doubt. “I trust you.” I reach up to grasp the back of his neck and lead his face down to the curve of my neck. A moment’s hesitation, and he sinks his teeth into me. I gasp, my back arching, as he drinks.

I expected a bite to the neck to feel different, and it does. This is… transcendent. The sensation of being held, cherished, possessed floods through my veins. My entire body is achingly sensitive and tingling with pleasure. I’m aware of every inch of skin that touches Sebastian, and especially aware of the throbbing ache between my thighs. I grab his hand and bring it there, showing him how wet and ready I am for him. He groans against my neck and guides that perfect cock to my entrance.

When he pushes into me, inch by slow inch, I cry out with pleasure. His teeth in my neck, his thick length inside of me—I feel full, whole, in a way I never have before. Like he was made for me, and I for him.

He fucks me slowly as he sips from my neck, savoring both my taste and my body as I gasp and whimper and beg for more. Soon, I am incoherent with pleasure. His pace quickens, his hips snapping against mine. I rake my nails down his back. When he breaks away from my neck to kiss me, his tongue cold and tasting faintly of copper as it slides against mine, I come apart. My toes curl, my entire body trembling with the intensity of it. He follows me over the edge with a gasp of my name.

* * *

When I wake, it takes me a few moments to remember anything. I rub a hand across my eyes and blink up at the unfamiliar ceiling, wondering if it’s really possible for everything to have changed. Then I shift onto my side and look over at Sebastian sitting beside me with a book open on his lap.

He shuts it, sets it aside, and smiles. “Good morning, my love,” he says, leaning over to press his lips to mine.

I stare up at him. “Good morning, Sebastian.” I bite my lip. “You stayed.”

“So did you,” he says.

We study each other. I’m vividly aware that this is the first time he’s witnessed my bedhead, my morning—evening?—breath. The version of me before I put on all of the makeup and dresses that have become my shield.

And it is the first time I have seen him in the morning, wearing only loose trousers with his pale, muscular chest exposed. His hair is somehow still perfect. He is strikingly beautiful, and I would be self-conscious if not for the naked adoration in the way he’s looking at me right now.

“If every morning will be like this, I’ll stay as long as you want,” I say.

“Hm. That was going to be my line.” He reaches over to push my hair out of my face, his long fingers winding through my curls. “I know this isn’t the most romantic pillow talk, but I have a renewed contract for you to sign.”

“You prepared it last night?” I ask, surprised at how quickly he worked.

“Oh, long before then, Amelia.”

I smile up at him. After a moment, he smiles back, almost shyly, and God, he is so blindingly beautiful.

“I’ll sign it after my coffee,” I say. “But first…”

I grab him by the back of the neck and pull him under the covers with me.