Devotion

Chapter Three

Kai

A peeved Lord Blightly is waiting on my stoop when I arrive home. The presence of dawn just barely making itself known as the quaint cottage is bathed in early morning light; the glow hitting the young lord's cheek bones in an alluring way. Although I had taken some of the edge off with some customers at work, I'm still not completely satisfied, and the man waiting for me is looking quite tasty.

"You owe me fifty skeads for this season and another twenty-five for shorting the last." The annoyed man grumbles as I approach, yet his eyes don't convey the same harshness that his voice holds. They hold mischief as they rake through my messy hair and slightly swollen lips.

As someone who oozes sexual vibes, I hope he falls into my trap, and by the look in his expression - the moth has flown right into the flame. I would feel sorry for his wife if I hadn't noticed a merchant tearing off her britches as she ushered him into the castle a while back.

"I don't have that yet, my lord." Akin to most other vampires, the lord finds submissiveness sexy in a bedmate; a role I don't even have to play.  A role I instinctively fall into as my gaze shifts towards the waning night.

He stands with an angry posture - tensed nerves paired with taught muscles - and strides towards me. Confusion laces his beautiful, dark eyes as he towers over me. He's much more powerful than me, and I can't help but shift my gaze away, towards the weathered, stone ground; I just don't want to get in trouble. But part of me hungers for his touch, a part I don't know that I'll be able to ignore. It is his choice.

"When will you have it?" His tone is poised as if his lips are ready to attack mine; an attack I would easily surrender to.

"Umm," chewing my bottom lip absentmindedly I mentally try to add up my hours and next paycheck. Even with the extra hours from taking Mira's shifts while she's away, and assuming some high tips tossed my way, I'll still be around ten skeads short.

Brain so trapped in this mental problem solving, I barely register that the Lord's thumb grazes my bottom lip, drawing it out from between my teeth. His touch sends pleasant sparks throughout my body as I try to answer him. Jittery beneath his touch, I can't seem to formulate a response. Opening my mouth to reply. I can't even get word out before soft lips capture mine.  That's when my hunger overpowers my judgement. 

Gripping his forearms for stability through the intense kiss, I tilt my head upward and gaze at the man.  I'm sure my eyes are just as cloudy with lust as his but I can't help but feel entranced by his obsidian orbs.  Eyes that are pinning me in place as he leads me inside my own home - never breaking the connection between our lips.   

His right hand strokes my waist as he undoes my cloak with the other; letting it softly dance through the air as it falls in a heap on the floor.  Completely motionless, the brooding man with flawless dark skin and a toned body just gazes at me.  Not out of disgust, but of lust.  His eyes rake over my look:  baggy silk shirt a few sizes too large, pretty black pointed shoes with small heels, and lingerie tights leading up into a pair of briefs hidden by the shirt.  I'm still wearing my work attire.  With a his lips drawn into a sexy smirk, he resumes fusing his lips with mine.

*

The air reeks of mead and cattle as Freya and I venture to the market.  A journey I seldom make.  Anywhere outside of the club my affects aren't exactly aiding me and I'd usually avoid situations that would lend to me going to crowded areas.  Alas, I've been looking for a book on the Drapilmore rebellions.  After asking around, I have concluded that none of my friends own a book aside from Freya who owns only a dozen; none are on the Drapilmore rebels.