The Vampire King Page 4

  “Mine,” Francis growled, as he had every day for the past thousand years. She flung her arms above her, delicious passion flowing through her body, when suddenly she felt a stab in her arm.

  “Arghh,” Guiliana cried.

  Before she’d finished the scream, she was ripped from the table and Francis wrapped her legs around his waist, holding her tight.

  “What? What is it, Lia?” he demanded, his eyes flying over her and around the room, looking for the danger to his mate.

  “Put me down.”

  He obeyed and pulled himself out of her.

  She gripped her arm and sure enough, a knife had stabbed into her, cutting her. The offending blade lay on the table.

  The king reached for it and snarled. Then threw it at the wall where it wobbled up and down as if in apology.

  “I’m all right, my love,” she said.

  He took her wrist and turned it so he could see the wound. They both knew it was no threat to her life, but he loved her like no other, and she knew to just leave him to care for her.

  He dropped his head and licked the blood off, then sealed the wound.

  “You have quite the scream on you, my queen.”

  “Like you don’t know that already.”

  He smirked.

  They looked around at the dining table and took in the devastation. Their appetites for both temporarily disappeared.

  “We need to talk,” the king said, and she nodded.

  They had put this off long enough, but the recent challenge to the throne had been a silent trigger for them both.

  Long ago, they had agreed, when the time came, they would pass on together, leaving the crown to their sons. Just as Francis’ father had before him.

  Living an immortal life sounded romantic, but at a certain point, it became a chore.

  When Francis had turned to Guiliana, without her permission, their lives had been nothing short of a nightmare. She despised him while still loving him. He loved her while despising himself.

  “It is as we agreed,” he said.

  She nodded and took his hand. “Let us go to our chambers to discuss in more privacy.”

  As they teleported to their wing of the castle, then stepped into their room, Guiliana recalled the first day they had met.

  She was barely a young woman, still a girl, living on a small farm in Italy with her mother, father, and two younger siblings. Her father’s skills were much sought after, so they were fortunate to live in a strongly built home with a warm thatched roof. It meant they all worked the land in his absence to keep the family fed and the house warm.

  One evening, after dusk, she had ventured outside to find the kitten her little sister was crying for. She had watched the young feline being birthed and immediately become its surrogate mother. At ten weeks, the kitten was old enough to sleep with her, despite her father’s insistence the furry creature was a pest.

  Mewing to call the little thing, Guiliana had heard a sound in the distance. Laughing at herself for fearing the dark, she continued across the dirt road to the back of the neighbor’s farm where she knew the kitten liked to hunt for little mice.

  Halfway across she heard a thundering horse, and as she turned it had reached her, the rider rearing it up and flipping around to save her from a sure death. She fell backwards, screaming, flinging an arm over her head.

  The horse let loose a loud anguished neigh and snorted as both it and the rider landed safely a few feet away.

  The rider leaped from his mount and appeared beside her in what felt like an extremely fast time. “Are you alright?”

  She attempted to stand up and moaned.

  “Let me.”

  The man lifted her and placed her on her feet. She limped and began to fall. He caught her.

  “I’ll be all right,” she said, feeling shy and embarrassed to be alone with a man without her father. “You seemed to be in a hurry, so please, go on with your journey.”

  The extremely tall and large man, dressed in what appeared to be fine linens, stared down at her. She had never been this close to a man before, but if he let go, she would fall.

  She limped and gripped his arm.

  “I am so sorry. Please place me over there and my papa will come for me when I call.” she said, pointing to the garden on their farm.

  “I will do no such thing,” he said, lifting her into his arms.

  She gasped.

  “Hush,” the man said, his voice gruff and powerful.

  Guiliana’s little breasts pressed against the man’s shirt, and for the first time in her life, she felt her body come to life. Her nipples turned hard as heat began to build lower in her body. She flushed, wanting to die right in this moment of embarrassment.

  The man smirked but did not look down at her. Instead, he walked across the road until they were near the tree line of her property. He lay her on the grass and kneeled beside her.

  “Tell me where it hurts,” his voice low and gravelly.

  She lifted the thin fabric of her nightgown and touched her ankle, grimacing. Her back, buttocks, and arms were all beginning to ache.

  “Everywhere really,” she admitted, seeing no reason to lie.

  He lifted her chin, and for the first time, she could see his face. He had deep green eyes, only visible because of the way the brilliant color reflected off the moonlight. His jaw was square and rough with dark hair. Long dark hair curled to his shoulders, and he was well-groomed, just as the rest of him was in his dark pants, shirt, and polished boots.

  She focused on his dark olive skin, which peeked out from under his open shirt, revealing the beginnings of a muscular chest unlike anything she’d seen. The men in her village were hungry and scrawny, and while they might have strength from working the land, none of them looked like this.

  “Take care what you gaze upon, child.”

  “I am not a child,” she said rebelliously.

  The man’s eyes sizzled in response. “Is that right?”

  Before she knew what was happening, he undid a few more of his buttons and yanked his shirt open more. Guiliana’s mouth fell open an inch as she took in the layers of tight golden muscles, the likes of a god.

  The man reached out to touch her face, his thumb rubbing over her bottom lip. “Touch me.”

  She did.

  Her hand reached out, and she ran her fingers over the taunt hardness of his abdomen. When she reached the top of his pants, she halted. She hadn’t thought this through.

  “Lower.”

  She ripped her hand back, blushing.

  He took her cheek in his hand, and heat blossomed throughout her body. She had grown up on a farm; she knew what he had under his pants and how he’d want to rut with her. She heard her parents at night and wasn’t keen on any of that business.

  Her body was not in agreement, she had realized, when wetness pooled between her legs.

  The man gazed upon her face as her breathing hitched. The hand holding her ankle made its way up her leg, up the inside of her leg, and to her thigh.

  She gasped.

  “Can I touch you here? Where you are warm and wet?”

  She stared at him, eyes wide and unsure how to answer. Her body was nodding. But Guiliana wasn’t sure she should.

  Inch by inch, his hand moved closer, his eyes never leaving hers. She knew now he never could have left her, but in the moment Guiliana felt she had the power to say no.

  She was wrong.

  Finally, his fingers found her mound and pushed through the folds of her private place. As he did, the moisture doubled, tripled, the feeling rising to her stomach, up to her chest and into her throat.

  “Good gods, you are so moist,” he said, his voice laced with what sounded like pain. He continued to rub until he and push a single finger inside.

  She let out a little noise she’d never heard from herself.

  “Tell me, does that feel nice?”

  “Yes,” she said honestly.

  He pressed anothe
r inside, and she felt herself stretch.

  “God, you are going to be so tight around my cock, little one.”

  Her eyes widened at that proclamation.

  “That’s right. You are mine.”

  His words, the lines of determination and possessiveness on his face, undid her. She began convulsing, and a feeling unlike anything she’d experienced before took over her body.

  She cried out, and his lips landed on hers, taking her body, mouth, and soul with him.

  “Guiliana?” her father called.

  The man slipped his fingers from her and licked them as he gazed into her confused eyes. “Meet me here this time tomorrow, little one. I have more to show you.”

  She chewed her lip.

  He took her chin. “Promise me.”

  It was an order, one that could not be disobeyed. She knew that with every inch of her being. She nodded, wrapping her chemise around her. Then the man disappeared.

  Simply vanished.

  Her father helped her back to the cottage with many questions she couldn’t answer. The kitten, who had appeared from nowhere, followed closely behind, meowing.

  Every night for the next thirty days she met the beautiful and powerful man, who she eventually discovered was named Francis. They met in the fields and he taught her things about her body she could never dream of.

  When he eventually pushed his cock inside her, she was as ready as she could be.

  Many times, she invited him to meet her mother and father for lunch or dinner, but he declined. She didn’t understand how he meant to make her his when he wouldn’t take this important step.

  Every day he reminded her she was his with his words, his body, and his rough, possessive way with her.

  One day, a month after they had first met, he had bitten her neck while deep inside her.

  They were both on the edge of orgasm when she felt the fangs in her throat. A mix of fear, confusion, and extreme ecstasy filled her being.

  “You are mine, Lia, and now you will be mine forever. Just relax now.”

  She hadn’t been able to do anything but relax as her body reacted to his cock inside her, his finger on her clit, one squeezing her nipple and his mouth on her neck. Pleasure and pain.

  “Good girl. Oh, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck yes. Mine,” he had cried as he filled her with his semen.

  When he was done, he released her from his sexual hold and licked her neck. Then he bit into his wrist and clamped it down on her mouth.

  “Drink, Lia,” he said, plunging two fingers into her pussy while his thumb rubbed her clit. “Drink up and come for me again.”

  Still, to this day, she didn’t know whether her wriggling was in resistance or absolute pleasure.

  Perhaps it was both.

  What came next was most certainly not the latter.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The king sat opposite the queen in their private quarters. It seemed inconceivable they were about to have this conversation. However, a promise was a promise.

  “So.”

  “So.” Lia gave him a small smile.

  He’d called Guiliana ‘Lia’ from the beginning, a term of endearment and a way to bring her closer to being his.

  Which was what this was all about, at the root of it.

  “There’s no need to feel guilty, my love, we both agreed to this.”

  “Are you truly ready, though?”

  That was the question.

  “Is one ever ready to have their head removed?”

  His queen blanched.

  “Francis, is that really necessary?”

  He shrugged.

  There was no point in skirting around the reality of what would need to take place for them to pass on from this life. It was either a dagger to the heart or the removal of their heads.

  Who the hell was going to do it, was the next question?

  Francis has always assumed one of their sons would, but now they had reached this moment. It felt truly unthinkable.

  For all of them.

  Still, a promise was a promise, and here they were, one thousand years on. He would do as his queen wished—he owed her that. Before, though, he was going to make her talk about it and make sure she was absolutely sure.

  There was no reversing a severed head.

  “Is this still what you want? To leave our sons to reign, to never see our grandvamps?”

  Guiliana looked away, biting her lower lip as she always had. His cock stirring in reaction, as it always had.

  “There will never be a perfect time,” she said. “My choice was taken from me. I never wanted to be immortal and live this long.”

  “No.” he said flatly. No, she hadn’t. And he had been the one to take her mortality.

  Out of fear.

  Memory was a strange keeper of history, but the moment he had bitten her was forever etched in his mind.

  Francis had met with Guiliana every night, preparing her body for his entry. He had desired her more than any female and quickly decided he had to have her. Night after night, he’d taught her about her body. And his.

  Eventually, the time came when he knew she was ready.

  His cock entered her body, followed by a powerful energy which left him with no question she was his mate. Desire suddenly became a need.

  Guiliana was but a mere pup, only eighteen cycles around the sun. Every evening, she spoke excitedly about him meeting her family. She asked more about who he was, which were all normal stages of a human falling in love.

  Of course, he could not answer her with any truth, and had no interest in pretending to be human in front of her family. It would end with him having to wipe their memories when he pulled her into his world.

  Which he’d decided would be sooner rather than later.

  His Lia had such spirit. She shared her love of working on the farm, swimming in the ocean, and running through fields of flowers. She wanted to dance with him under the moonlight and share all of her favorite people with him.

  None of which was possible.

  Francis knew he was a dominant male, and he was an impatient one as well. He listened to her innocent and naive chatter and knew she’d be terrified when he exposed his vampire nature.

  She loved him, he did not doubt that, but he wanted her home with him where she now belonged.

  Finding his mate was a turn of good fortune for the vampire race. As the only living Moretti, he desperately needed heirs to strengthen the hold on the throne. Should he die, and it was worth noting he was hard to kill, the race would have no true leader.

  So, he decided on her behalf, because in truth, she never really had one.

  He knew it would cost him her respect and her trust, but he did it anyway. Not knowing how painful it would be for them both.

  Thirty-two days after they first met, he plunged his fangs into her, triggering the change. He teleport her home to Castle Moretti in Cambridge, England and completed her transition.

  In the months following, Guiliana despised him beyond anything he could’ve imagined.

  While she wailed, he ached.

  When she was silent, he paced.

  She refused to look at him or allow him near her body. Francis did not force her, such was his guilt, despite his need for her. He simply went back to his private quarters and stroked himself with enough anger to draw blood.

  Three months passed before he snapped. He marched into the room where she was being dressed by her maid, startling them both.

  “Out!” he had ordered the female vampire.

  Guiliana had turned and stared at him in the empty way he had become used to. The hole in his chest now a gnawing ulcer.

  “This has to end, Lia,” he pleaded.

  “Why? Why must it?” she asked. “You have taken everything from me. So you shall not have me.”

  He had stepped as close as he dared without frightening her. Despite being a vampire, she had still feared him.

  “You suffer needlessly, my love. I know I am a demandi
ng man, and I was wrong. How many times must I apologize?”

  She turned away from him, but this time he gripped her shoulder. She shook.

  “Stop, gods, stop being afraid of me. I fucking love you, Lia,” he pleaded. “You are my mate. I hear your cries when you should be sleeping. You pine for me, yet you despise me.”

  Guiliana had struggled in his arms, trying to get free from his grip, and when that didn’t work, she stepped closer, thumping his chest.

  He had loved being able to touch her, to feel her against him, even though it was rage.

  “I fucking hate you and I will hate you forever.”

  “No. You won’t,” he said. She had slowed her attack and looked up at him in question. “I will not make you be with me forever.”

  She had narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Give me one thousand years of your life, and an heir to the throne. Show me the love I know you have for me, and I will set you free.”

  “How?”

  He pulled her in closer and placed his lips on her forehead, feeling the anger finally subside within her.

  “There are only two ways a vampire can die. A severed head or heart. We will go together. My life is not worth living without you, my love.”

  A tear threatened to escape, and he wiped it away. Then another, then another. He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed, cradling her and allowing her to sob until there was no more.

  “You would do that for me?”

  He nodded against her. “I only ask that you please fucking love me. I cannot live like this.”

  “You took my life,” she whispered.

  “We could not have been apart. You understand this now, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “You would have been terrified of me. I couldn’t risk losing you.”

  “I still am.”

  “There is no need to be, my love.” He said. “Do you crave my touch?”

  Slowly, she nodded.

  “Then give me the opportunity to gain your trust, to love you as you deserve and desire. Together we can create a home here and have a family of our own. I will make you the happiest queen who ever lived.”

  “I never wanted this, Francis.”

  “But you will grow to, my love.”

  “One thousand years.”