The Vampire's Mail-Order Bride

He drank in the taste of her while he continued to fondle her breasts, which were as soft and firm as he had fantasized. He tried to keep his touch gentle, but when his pet started writhing, he became rougher, almost brutish. But still she didn’t shrink back, and instead he heard her moaning out – probably the very first time she had moaned in her life – and the sound had him shuddering. It was the most arousing thing he had ever heard in his centuries of existence, and his hunger for Rhapsody turned wild and primal.

He needed her naked.

Needed to fuck and breach her maidenhead.

Now.

The marquis reluctantly lifted his head, and he saw his pet instinctively gulping back air. Her eyes were dazed, her lovely cheeks flushed, and her trembling lips bruised and swollen by his kisses. The sight should have made him feel repentant, but instead it made him feel more possessive, seeing his pet branded by his passion.

Rhapsody’s heart thundered against her chest when the marquis suddenly swept her up in his arms, and without saying a word, began walking in the direction of his bedchamber.

A tiny part of her was still in shock, unable to comprehend the reality of what was happening. It had always appeared impossible to her that the ruler of the entire vampire race, second only to his demon duke sire, would want someone like her as his pet and heartkeeper.

And yet…

The marquis’ hooded gaze captured hers as he stood before the doors of his bedchamber. It was as if he were waiting for her consent, as if he were giving her one last time to change her mind, and Rhapsody’s brows furrowed.

How…foolish.

And even though they had yet to bond by blood, it was almost as if her Master had actually heard her thoughts, with the way his green eyes were bright and gleaming.

But because she preferred things to be clear-cut, she looked up at the marquis, saying seriously, “I am yours if you want me, Master.”

Need tightened in his groin. Mother of Hell. Every time his pet called him her Master, it was as if her tongue was making love to its syllables, and it was all he could do not to rip her dress off. “Be very sure of your words,” he gritted out. “I am a man of very few needs, but it does not make me any less possessive. What becomes mine…stays mine.” The words were meant to be a warning, but not even by a fraction did his pet’s gaze waver from his.

“I am yours, Master.”

Four simple words.

And yet, in all nine hundred years of his existence, Mihail could not remember hearing anything sweeter…and more complicated. Now would be the right time to tell her of why he had first sought her. Now was the perfect time to come clean. But if he did and he lost her because of it…

The marquis’ mood swung from one extreme to another in a matter of seconds.

Brooding and fatalistic to feral and urgent with need.

To hell with common sense, to hell with the future, to hell with everything.

He could not risk losing her.

Just fucking couldn’t—-

“Master?” Dark eyes solemnly looked up to him. “Have you changed your mind?”

It was a question that his pet should never have had any reason to ask, and with it his decision was made.

“Never.”

And when Mihail kissed her again, he made sure that this time, his pet would not have the slightest reason to question his desire for her. He kissed and touched her the way a starving man would when given his first taste of sustenance, his mouth fiercely ravishing hers and his arms tightly winding around her as he carried her inside his room.

After getting rid of his boots and her shoes, he kissed her again as he laid her down on the four-poster bed. His fingers did swift work on the row of pearl buttons at the back of her dress, and when he unclasped the last one, then and only then did he slowly pull back, wanting to savor the sight of his pet as he peeled away the layers of silk that covered her body.

Her dark eyes were now lustrous with desire, and she appeared to him as his own siren and muse, with the shiny sable locks of her fanned against the pristine white pillows. Still holding her gaze captive, he carefully pulled her gown down, and the silk yielded unresistingly to his touch. Inch by inch it bared her skin, and he saw his pet bite her lip as her breasts gradually spilled free of its confines.

For one moment, all he could do was stare at them. So gloriously full, quite larger than he imagined them to be actually, and crowned with rosebud tips that were begging to be suckled.