thighs on top of his as he gathered her stained skirt up to her waist.
The blood of a tortured man stains my clothes. She tried to push Vlad away. She succeeded in freeing her lips from his when she turned away from him. “This isn’t right.”
“I am the Vampire King. I am Vlad Tepes Dracula. I have destroyed cities. I have taken a continent’s worth of lives in my thousands of years. Stop fooling yourself, Maxine—none of this has never been, nor shall ever be, right.” He began to unlace her dress. “Do not speak to me of morals. Destroy me if you must. But if you cannot, then I will have you here and now.”
“Why?” She gasped as he pressed himself against her core. She felt his desire against her. “Why now?”
Slowly, he ground himself into her, letting out a low snarl in his throat as he did. “Seeing you there, in that place? Demanding the ghoul leave the room—comforting that pathetic wretch—with the strength to watch the horror and walk away without even a flinch…I do not know as I have ever wanted a woman more in my thousands of years than I do in this moment. You did not even shed a tear.”
“Crying would have belittled him.” She managed to get out the words, although it was challenging. He had begun to rut against her through their clothing, teasing them both with what he wanted to do. “It would have cheapened his loss to add my pain to his.”
“Wise girl…beautiful girl.” He hovered his lips over her cheek. His hand had finished unlacing the front of her dress and had now spread the panels wide to seek out her bare skin. She hadn’t worn a corset since the lace-up dress provided her enough support.
Now she did not know if she was relieved or regretful that there was nothing in the way of his hand as it cupped her breast and began to squeeze and stroke the tender flesh. She gasped and bit her lip as he focused on the sensitive bud that had already begun to grow pert from his attentions. He took it between his fingers and pinched.
She gasped and arched up into his hand, shocked at what the stinging sensation did to her. It seemed to run like lightning through her, waking everything that had been dormant. It pooled traitorously in her core. A place already under attack from the rest of him. She was under siege. Surrounded by the superior army, she did not know how long she could pretend to hold out before her walls caved to his desire.
He lowered his head to capture her other nipple in his mouth, and she whimpered as he bit down on it. Not hard enough to break the skin, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough that she writhed beneath him. Her body was seeking more of the beautiful, terrible friction with his.
Damn her to the pits of Hell—she wanted this.
But it all had to end.
The cruelty had to stop. No matter how much she loved him. But if she had to tear him to pieces—an act that she knew would kill her as well, either from exertion or grief—she would do it in his arms.
He had told her to kill him or obey him. That was not what he was asking her. It never had been. It had only been a farce, and now she could see what he was really asking her for, deep beneath the surface. She had turned her gaze from the truth of it for that she was selfish. But now she could see it plain.
Love me enough to destroy me.
And she loved him more than she knew how to express. She would follow him into the abyss. She would take them there together.
Tears stung her eyes, and she bit back a sob.
Lifting his head, he sought her lips. It was a tender kiss, filled with the answering echo of the love that beat in him. When he broke the embrace, he kissed away her tears. She knew he could hear her thoughts. She knew he understood what was to happen this night. There was no need to speak the words.
He hovered over her for a moment, his hot breath washing against her. She gazed into those crimson eyes and saw her eternity. She saw his joy. When she pulled his soul from his chest, a part of him would dwell within her for the rest of her life.