I step close and slide my hands over the small of her back, pressing her close.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” I say with a smile. I trace, taking her with me.
The wind tugs at my shirt as we materialize. We’re on a lit walkway on the side of a rugged cliff. Far below our feet, the ocean froths against the rocks.
Aurelia gasps. “Where is this?”
“Polignano a Mare,” I say the town’s name with the proper musical accent.
“Italy?” Aurelia gasps.
“Italy,” I confirm and beckon. “Come, bella mia.”
Aurelia clings to my hand, letting me lead her down to the restaurant. The glowing rooms are carved right into the cliff. My captive fae’s eyes are round with wonder as we enter the restaurant cave. We’re promptly seated at a cozy table right up against the iron railing. The wind tugs at Aurelia’s hair.
“This is wonderful,” she mouths. But when the waiters appear, her eyes drop to the white tablecloth.
I order in Italian. As soon as the waiters retreat, I take her hand. “Why are you nervous?”
Her gaze shoots to mine in surprise, and then she flushes. “I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I don’t really go to fancy restaurants, so I get nervous about eating with the right fork and stuff.”
I laugh. “Come on. It’s a restaurant not a court of law. You’re the customer. Everyone here,” I say, circling a finger in the air, “works for you. Got it?”
She smiles and relaxes. She looks at me from under her lashes. “It’s a little disconcerting to have you sensing my emotions.”
I wink. “I have all kinds of powers over you, little girl. That’s why vampires are higher on the food chain.”
She wrinkles her nose, and I lean closer. “Careful, slave. Even though we’re in public, I won’t hesitate to punish you.”
She knows I’m kidding. “Char-leee.”
I give her my crocodile grin.
The sommelier pays our table a visit. Normally, I would banter about the perfect bottles to order with dinner, but tonight I keep it short.
Aurelia looks at her wine glass, nibbling her lip. I sense the undercurrent of anxiety rise again.
“Aurelia.”
“Hmm?”
“Look at me.”
She lifts her eyes, her brow wrinkling in concern.
“Tonight is for you. You’re going to stop over-thinking things and enjoy yourself.”
“But--”
I raise a hand. “You belong here. With me.” As soon as I say it, I know it’s true. She belongs with me.
Aurelia gulps and nods.
Still in dom mode, I lift my chin towards her wine glass. “Take a sip. Good girl.”
She does as she’s told and relaxes as she looks out over the water.
I marvel at her innocence, nerved up over a fancy dinner. The same woman who didn’t hesitate to defend herself against me with a sharpened stake. She has heart. So different from me. She lives with great courage and compassion, giving herself to the children at her work, giving herself to me. Demanding I give more of myself to her.
“You keep looking at me like that...” she says, peeking up through her long lashes.
“Like what?”
She looks shyly down at her napkin in her lap. “Like you think I’m beautiful.”
I smile. “So beautiful it makes me ache.”
I toast her with the wine il cameriere brings to our table. We dine on frutto del mare, risotto with locally made cheese and lobster, fish so fresh it was swimming in the sea two hours ago. With every bite, Aurelia’s eyelashes flutter. She forgets to be nervous and moans like she’s orgasming.
Halfway through the meal, I set down my fork. I sip my wine and feast on the sight and sounds of her pleasure.
Dessert is a lemon and cream concoction that melts in your mouth. I’ve had it before, but never stolen from a sweet mortal’s lips. I grasp the back of Aurelia’s neck and have a taste. Her tongue darts against mine, and I’m tempted to trace us back to my bed and spend the rest of the night painting her with parfait al limone, so I can lick and suck it off.
When I draw back, Aurelia’s eyes are heavy. Her lips are swollen from the fierceness of my kiss.
“Come,” I say as soon as I’ve dealt with the bill, and lead her from the table. We walk back up the path. Once we’re around the corner, I tug her close and sip at her sweetness again. My fangs are razor sharp, so I’m careful not to slice her.
When I’m done, I hitch her up against me and trace. We appear in my bedroom, but only for a moment, so I can grab a heavy fur robe.
“Charlie?” she asks as I tuck her into it.
“Hush, lovely.”
She bites her lips but obeys. Once she’s swathed in the warm fur, I hold her close and trace again.
We reappear in a dark, cold corner of the world. Aurelia stumbles, but I steady her.
“Where are we now?” The chill hits her, and she shivers a little.