The forwardness was jarring, but not exactly unexpected. Not long ago they'd been literally at one another's throats.
Ever since they came here, though, she'd changed. Her affection for him seemed to grow by the second. It was a problematic affection, too—obsessive even.
Her disdain for him interacting with other women even on a formal basis was going to
cause trouble for them one day, he had no doubt.
He found himself blinking with disbelief when Vladira leaned closer against him.
His arm, seemingly acting of its own volition, moved down from her shoulder and went around her lower back.
His hand found its place on her hip, and as he gave a little squeeze, she shifted in her seat to move closer to him and reward his quiet act of affection.
"Did he just call her a spider monkey?"
Vladira gasped, pointing at the TV screen in astonishment. "What a delightfully macabre sounding creature!"
"Indeed. Does such a beast exist?"
Vladira grinned, turning her head to look at him. "We should get our own apartment, you know. If we have a legal writ stating that we dwell on the property, I can convert it to my new castle and start experimenting with
magic. I bet I could make a spider monkey—imagine, an eight-armed ape with many red eyes and sharp mandibles."
"Sounds positively horrific," Alaric muttered.
He chanced a look down at her legs, and that's when he noticed—her hoodie had hiked up quite a lot, and Vladira was not wearing any panties.
His eyes went wide and became fixated on that point for conspicuously long, but if the vampiress noticed his gaze, she made no comment, nor did she adjust her posture or attempt to obscure anything.
Hers was about the prettiest pussy Alaric had ever seen—and he'd seen his share.
Her slit was pale and its line thin, promising tightness just beyond the folds. The longer he stared, the more he was sure that he was supposed to be staring, that this was some trap that the Countess had laid for him, and
he was falling right into it.
He considered his options.
Firstly, the clearest, brightest, most obvious option was to embrace the madness and fuck Her here on the motel bed while the first Twilight film played on the cheap TV screen as the backdrop to their activities.
That option was growing more compelling by themoment, but he couldn't discount the other possibilities.
While it certainly was tempting to give into his lust and growing affection for the Princess of Evil, it contained some risks and moral implications that were so obvious he
didn't bother to dwell on them.
The second option was to simply play dumb all evening and avoid things escalating. That was probably the smart option, but then—why had he let it go this far already if he were going to do that?
At this point, as a man if not a Voss, he owed it to himself and the Countess to at least not send mixed signals.
The final option was to embrace death. If he slayed Vladira now, he would die as well, but she was vulnerable.
It would be easy. He looked down at her face, her side profile. Her pale beauty made her seem more like a goddess of the night than a vampire.
After a moment, she looked up at him, catching him staring, and that grin spread on her face, making his heart beat.
What's more—he swore hers was beating, too.
What did that mean?
So very vulnerable…
But no. In the end, he couldn't do it. He could not bring himself to seduce or kill Her.
Even if it meant pacifying her with love, both options represented sins too heinous for him to consider.
And then, just as he was sure he'd steeled his resolve for good, she crawled into his lap, straddling him, and pressed her nose against his nose.
Her red eyes stared into his blues. She let him breathe a few times as he looked at her in stunned silence, inhaling, exhaling, holding, releasing.
His hands—what were his hands even doing?
Oh. That's right. The second Vladira migrated into his lap, his hands cupped her bare ass and had yet to let go.
The texture of her skin was so smooth it made him shiver at its perfection. Despite her power over him and her supernatural strength, she felt so small and pliable in his arms, on his lap—her flesh so inviting.
She licked her lips. "Kiss me."
"I…I can't."
"Yes, you can. Kiss me, Voss," she urged him, seeing the weakness for her in his eyes, perhaps.
Alaric met her halfway, raising one hand to the back of her head, he pulled her head toward him until her lips were against his.
"Mmmf!" she murmured, her voice too sweet and adorable for a demonic Vampire of Hell.
Alaric's fingers wasted no time exploring her body, one hand remaining on her ass as the other entered her hoodie from the back.
As she bit his lip and coaxed his tongue out, his fingers danced over her skin.
Alaric's arms encircled Her's neck.
"You're mine, Voss," she whispered. "All mine, all mine, all mine. Say it."
"I won't say that. You ask me to lower myself to such submission. I refuse."
She nipped at his cheek in punishment, but it was really more of a playful bite than one of aggression.
He scarcely reacted. He reacted far more when she started licking and sucking the blood that leaked out of his cheek.
"You're always acting so tough and hard to get, but you want me, Alaric. At least admit that."
Caught up in the passion, Alaric refused to say those words but kissed her neck instead, offering his own series of bites, which made his lover giggle.
"Say it, Alaric, please. Say something at least—something so I know where we stand."
"I don't know where we stand," he said flatly.
"But right now, you're sitting on my lap, dampening my leg with your wet, wicked pussy. I intend to purge the evil from it once and for all."
She cackled as she tightened the grip of her arms and started thrusting her hips rhythmically.
"Calling me out, huh? It's true. My pussy's wet as fuck for you, Voss. In fact, I've never been this soaked in all my undeath."
She paused all movement for a moment, grabbed his head with both hands, stared him in the eyes, and commanded, "Fuck me."