His Captive Mortal A Vampire Romance - Renee Rose Page 0,14

the bulge in my pants and flushes even more pink. “What do I have to do to earn it back?” The little vixen licks her lips, which nearly kills me.

“Kneel,” I order because it’s the only thought rushing through my brain. How badly I want her on her knees in front of my cock, servicing me.

“What?” she asks indignantly, even as her eyes plead for mercy. Of course, I wouldn’t make her suck my cock. I’m not a complete bastard. Close, but not complete.

“You heard me. On your knees at my feet.” I take her waist and lift her from the couch arm, showing off my strength by holding her suspended in the air for a breath before lowering her.

“What for?” she asks warily, her eyes traveling to my crotch.

My cock thickens in response.

“I could just go put another bra on,” she tests.

“And I could just glamour you to walk down Congress Street topless.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me, little fairy. I can be a real dick.”

She stands there, the muscles in her jaw clenching and releasing for a long moment. Finally, she huffs and lowers to her knees.

My face splits into a wide smile. I slide my fingers into her thick glossy mane and tug her head back. “Thank you for your obedience, Aurelia. Remove your hands.”

Her eyes shoot to mine, her mouth opening, forming a protest, which she seems to think better of. She throws down her hands all at once, lifting her chin and her sternum as if to inform me she has nothing to hide.

Indeed, she has not. Her breasts are perfection, the size of apples, the rosy nipples ripe for sucking. I reach out and cup one, running my thumb over the pebbled tip.

She shivers but doesn’t move, color flushing her cheeks and neck, her breath short.

“I thought—” She stops and clears her throat when her voice cracks. “I thought you weren’t demanding this sort of thing,” she reminds me.

I drop my hand with an effort at self-control. “I’m not. But if I must punish you, all bets are off.” It’s not true. I wouldn’t take her against her will. Even though her body screams for me to. Even though half of her wants me to.

I scent her arousal again. I crouch before her and reach a hand between her thighs, trailing my index finger over the seam at her crotch, causing her to draw a sharp intake of breath. “Will you be good, Aurelia?”

“Y-yes,” she warbles.

I pinch the outer lips of her sex through her shorts, and she whimpers. “Good girl,” I murmur. “You may get dressed.”

I release her and toss her the shirt, standing up and walking away as if I don’t have the bluest balls on the planet.

Yes, torturing her would be a torture to me too... but the sweetest kind.

Chapter 6

Aurelia

“I ordered books for you to study,” Charlie informs me from my bedroom. He’s walking around it, picking up my things and examining them. “But they won’t be here until tomorrow, so we’ll practice with your bubble today. Is that your only trick?”

I nibble my lip. “When I was a kid, I swore I could make the wind blow.” I remembered last night, as I’d considered Charlie’s claim that I possess some kind of power.

He looks at me thoughtfully. “Can you make it blow inside?”

I give a bark of embarrassed laughter. “I don’t even think I can do it outside anymore. I don’t know if it ever really happened, or I just believed I could do it.”

He leans his back against the wall and folds his arms over his muscled chest, considering me. In a crisp button down with the sleeves rolled up, he looks straight out of the pages of a men’s fashion magazine--virile, handsome and debonnaire. “You could,” he says, as if he knows it definitively. “Try it--right here and now.”

I close my eyes, remembering how I used to climb to the top of a hill, spread my arms and lift my face up, saying, “blow wind, blow!” I imagine the feel of wind on my face, of my hair lifting in the currents.

A wisp of air, so light it could be in my imagination, breezes past my face.

My eyes fly open. “Did you see anything?”

Charlie smiles. “Very good, fairy. Now send it my way.” He holds up his palms.

I draw a breath and imagine feeling the wind at my back, blowing my clothing forward. A tiny current of air ruffles my sleeve, then dies away.

“Again,” Charlie orders.

“Did you feel that?”

“I