Until the Sun Falls from the Sky (The Three #1)(54)
Author: Kristen Ashley

“Lucien,” the blonde breathed when she made it to his side.

He didn’t greet her nor did he touch her.

He walked into the hallway, knowing she’d follow.

She did.

This hallway didn’t snake to The Den, or feeding room, of this Feast. Instead, it was a maze, the center of which held The Den. Every vampire knew the layout, none of the mortals did. A mortal could only go to The Den in the company of a vampire at his or her invitation. If they wandered back in hopes of melting into the feedings, at this particular Feast, they could be lost for hours, even days.

Lucien moved swiftly, surely, feeling her struggling to keep up, not allowing her to get her bearings and within minutes they were in The Den.

Lucien’s eyes went immediately to the steward who noticed him and jerked his head toward another door. Lucien wended his way through the bodies on the floor, feeling her behind him, smelling her scent which was no here near as delicious as Leah’s.

Most definitely lemonade. And not good lemonade.

“Master Lucien,” the steward murmured as he inserted a key and opened one of a half dozen doors leading off The Den.

“Clive,” Lucien returned the greeting and walked into the small room.

It was much like any Den, decorated in rich colors, the furniture comfortable and inviting, meant for lounging, covered in soft, plush fabrics.

Lucien had intended to lead Leah to a room off The Den they visited last night, not to feed, to indulge in other pleasurable activities. However, her extreme reaction stopped him from doing that. He’d been disappointed but only until she’d explained. Then he’d been elated.

The door closed behind them and Lucien turned to the woman.

“I’m Kitty,” she said in her breathy voice.

Lucien regarded her for a moment then he gave his honest, dispassionate opinion. “What a perfectly ridiculous name.”

She blinked both in surprise and, he noted instantly, stupidity. She had no idea if he was being serious or teasing and with the way the wheels churned behind her blue eyes, it would take far longer than he intended to spend with her to figure it out.

“Come here,” he ordered and she stopped the taxing effort of thinking and moved forward.

When she was inches away, she leaned in, going up on her toes. “You should know I’ll do anything you want.” She hesitated and gave him her slightly effective but obviously practiced alluring look before stressing, “Anything.”

“If you’ll give me anything then please do me the favor of not speaking.” He gave her an altogether different highly effective look before stressing, “At all.”

She blinked again, confusion filling her face and Lucien was through.

In less than a second, he had her in his arms, his tongue lashed her neck and he pulled her head back roughly by her long hair. Then he tore into her, her blood spurting into his mouth.

He smelled her excitement immediately.

Neither assuaged the ache in his belly or the throbbing he felt in his cock.

Her head rolled back, giving him better access and further tearing open her own wound, something which he was certain was also practiced.

Her arms started to steal around him and he lifted his head without stroking her wound with his tongue to stop the bleeding. The blood poured down her throat, staining her gown.

“Don’t touch me,” he growled. Her eyes caught his and he saw uncertainty before his mouth went back to the wound.

He fed beyond what would have been healthy for Leah this early in their Arrangement but where he knew he could take this woman. She’d regenerate by the time she wandered into The Den, once invited, open to feeding by anyone.

Then he swept his tongue along the wound, the bleeding stopped and the skin started knitting together. His arms fell away from her, she sagged to her knees in front of him and he made to move to the door.

“Is that it?” she whispered, her hands shooting out to hold him at his hips, her head tilted back, her eyes beseeching, her desperate need to service Lucien in more than just feeding written all over her face.

His eyes dropped to her cle**age and his body responded in spite of his thoughts.

He’d misused her. Even with the mortals at A Feast he had better manners. Hell, even with Wats and Breed he had better manners.

It was Leah and his frustration with her that he was taking out on this creature and it was inexcusable.

Therefore, his tone gentled when he asked, “And what would you like, pet?”

Her eyes flicked to his trousers then back to his. “Anything you want to give me,” she breathed.

Lucien thought of Leah, her stubbornness and the likely weeks of torture ahead for them both.

Lucien was a vampire. Vampires weren’t even expected to be faithful to their mates, another frustration Lucien had with Katrina, certainly not their mule-headed concubines.

Then he shrugged off his jacket.

“Stand up and take off your dress,” he commanded.

At once, she did as she was told and Lucien was far later getting back to Leah than he’d recently decided he would be.

* * * * *

It was an hour away from dawn when he arrived home.

Upon entering the kitchen, he heard the television and saw the flashing lights coming from the family room.

He moved in that direction, entering the room, seeing a late night movie playing, the volume turned low.

Leah was asleep on the couch on her side, her hands in prayer position tucked under her cheek. She was wearing a pair of drawstring pajama bottoms in a paisley of muted colors intermingled with bright pastels with a tight-fitting camisole in robin’s egg blue, one of the colors in the pants.

She looked innocent and adorable, the latter of which she was some of the time, the former, only in her sleep.

Laid out on the coffee table with some of it escaping onto the floor were the remains of what had been an eating orgy. Microwave popcorn, open chip bags, cookies, candy wrappers and a small tub of ice cream, half eaten and now fully melted.

Lucien was not one to partake in junk food, except, as tonight, at A Feast.

A delicious, finely-crafted dessert, definitely.

An orgy of chemically saturated savories and diabetic coma-inducing sweets, never.

He decided he’d have a word with her later about this, if he found the right time, which would likely be in the next decade.

He lifted her and, as had happened last night, she didn’t wake. She simply settled into him, her temple on his shoulder, her forehead pressed into his neck.

He walked with a mortal’s slowness, taking the time to savor her scent. His eyes moving over her profile, his arms curling her soft body closer, enjoying everything that was her after having his fill, several times, of her poor relation tonight. This enjoyment strengthened his resolve to be far more patient while he made her understand and brought about her taming.