in my need to heal from my wounds. You aren’t getting your piercings back because I know exactly why you have them, and what they can do. As for the screaming, I was pretending the feeder was you, and I may have lost control a little bit. I wish I had fed from you, but being you’re not immortal yet, I didn’t wish to stress that I wanted to fuck you. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much choice in the matter without seeming like a complete asshole.”
“Oh,” I said breathlessly. “Look, I get that I’m not very knowledgeable about what is happening here. I’m not an idiot, though. I’m not as weak as you think I am. I could handle you, just for the record.” He smiled a lopsided grin, standing up as he tilted his head. “I didn’t mean right now. I’m not interested in sloppy seconds.”
“I wouldn’t take you after soiling myself on a feeder, Remington. You’re a woman. You deserve respect in that aspect. Considering the conversation with Nyx, you’ve never reached a climax with anyone but me?”
“We’re not having this conversation,” I blushed, turning toward the table, refilling my glass. “Whiskey? You should drink too because then your lips are busy and Lord knows those lips need to be busy… On drinking! They need to be busy drinking. Let’s get drunk. No,” I said, shaking my head. “No, we probably shouldn’t get drunk. I’m a pretty easy drunk, so we shouldn’t do that together. Shut up, Remington!” I shouted, turning horrified eyes on him. I watched his lips twitching as he fought laughter. “Drink?” I growled, holding out the bottle because fuck it, I wasn’t doing well around him.
“Are you always like this when you’re nervous?”
“I am not nervous,” I lied, turning away from his heated stare, embarrassment filling my cheeks. His hand grabbed my braid, pulling on it.
“You’re nervous, and it’s cute, Remi. You are so innocent that it’s intriguing. Now sit down and eat, because I have it on good authority that you require food. I enjoy listening to you eat, as well.”
He grabbed a cup as I downed the second glass of whiskey, holding my glass out for more. His brow lifted as his eyes slid to my lips. I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth, watching him pour a double shot into my glass.
“I’m sorry my family killed yours,” I stated softly, holding his surprised stare.
“I’m not sorry mine killed yours,” he returned, and I winced.
“Ouch.”
“Tell me about your mother. The Elizabeth I knew wouldn’t live in a hovel for even mere moments. She’d have found it beneath her. And those glyphs, what were they?” I swallowed, staring at him before I reached for a cinnamon roll, shoving the entire thing into my mouth as his eyes narrowed, and a smile tugged at his lips. “No moaning this time? What a shame. You make the most delicious noises, little one. Go to sleep. Tomorrow we will finish this conversation, and you’ll make me a sword to prove you are a Silversmith. Sweat dreams, and if you find me within them, do try not to suck my cock. I won’t let you finish me off the same way again. Next time I wake up with you sexually participating, I’m going to consider it an invitation to do more.”
Chapter Thirteen
I stared at the glass room in the enormous basement of the mansion. There was a large assembly of knights moving in and out of what appeared to be some kind of control room. Outside of that room was a long table with chairs around it, and big TVs covering several news outlets. Rhys had an entire surveillance room in his basement where he watched the outside world in high definition.
He had an amazing setup which was something I hadn’t expected. I’d known he’d be articulate with his men, but he was eerily efficient. Rhys wasn’t an alpha by mistake. The way he controlled the room and dominated it with his presence was proof of his status.
Today he’d forgone his suit and wore a faded shirt with dark, loose-fitting jeans. His boots were expensive Italian leather, designed with his family crest. He’d pulled his hair back away from his face, revealing his sharp, angular features. He’d also skipped shaving today, which made my fingers itch to trace the 5 o’clock shadow to see if it was as soft as it looked.
“How does this work?” he asked, and I smiled tightly.