The Queen's Protectors (A Throne of Blood Book 1) Page 9
I feed Elliot my blood. When I’ve decided he’s had enough, Kaleo bites his wrist and feeds him too. Elliot is nothing but a trembling mess of erotic pants and breathless moans. He holds onto the top of the sofa for support while I fuck him into Violet. Pulling off Kaleo’s cock with an audible slurp, Violet wraps a hand around his dick, and then she leans forward to claim Elliot’s lips.
We fuck and grind and consume each other’s bodies. Elliot trails his fangs down Violet’s throat, runs his tongue over the droplets of blood, before he sinks his fangs into her pale neck. Our queen rides on a wave of pleasure that surges from her body and into our own. My entire being tenses as I expel my seed into Elliot, who then shoots his cum into Violet’s pussy, and Kaleo shudders before he, too, spurts his cum, stream after stream, over Violet’s breasts.
His chest heaving, Kaleo ruffles a hand through Elliot’s slick hair. “Welcome to the family, kid.”
“Hey, I’m not a ki—ah, forget it.” Elliot starts to pull out of Violet. I remove my cock from his ass, and he drops into the sofa beside our queen. She cannot stop grinning at him. “I’ll just start calling you old man. Alpha over there can be Pops.”
Violet chuckles. “His hair is starting to grey a little,” she teases, another grin crossing her lips.
“You do know I can hear you all, right?” I say, yanking my pants up.
As I turn to collect the towels folded next to the refreshments, Elliot wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and Violet bursts into laughter. In spite of my concerns, I can’t help but smile. Violet will soon have her throne and her Protectors will be at her side. Everything is beginning to fall into place.
I don’t remember falling asleep on the sofa inside the club. I was too busy enjoying the three gorgeous men surrounding me to acknowledge my exhaustion. Content listening to Elliot talk about the most random of subjects, I must have dozed off, for the softness cradling my body now is certainly not the same sofa I fucked my Protectors on.
Opening my eyes, I find myself back in my own bed. I stretch my arms wide, my fingers skimming over the velvet bedding, and I give a contented sigh.
My. Own. Bed.
“God, how I’ve missed you,” I whisper, closing my eyes as I smooth my palms over the cotton sheets.
Without warning, a burst of sunlight assaults the back of my eyelids.
“Wakey, wakey, Sleeping Beauty.” Kaleo shakes my foot. I open my eyes and smile at him. He’s holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a single waffle in the other. Taking a large bite from the waffle, he hands me the coffee and says, “Breakfast is ready. I’m not sure your housekeeper likes me, though. She keeps giving me the evil eye.”
I straighten and wrap my hands around the hot mug. “No, that’s just Sorcha’s face. Trust me. She can’t help it. Has she given you her fifty-one-question interrogation—I mean, examination yet?”
He nods with a grin, his eyes gleaming. “Fifty-two. Am I lucky? She only gave Elliot ten.”
I pause and stare into his dark eyes, which have lost their golden luster. Shifters only change eye color when they’re starved or exhausted; similarly, vampires eyes change when deprived of blood for too long. Either way, it’s never a good sign. My stomach twists with worry as I wonder what’s wrong with him. There’s got to be something I can do.
I take a small drink of coffee. “She must like you both. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”
He raises his eyebrows and swallows the last of his waffle. A crumb clings to his upper lip. I want to lick it off. “Well, I’m glad I passed her test, Your Majesty, so I could bring you coffee in bed.” He sits on the edge of my mattress, one eyebrow still raised.
I snort at him. “Waking up to a handsome man bringing me coffee in bed? I can think of worse ways to spend my morning.”
I wink and take another sip from my mug. I try not to laugh at the mental image of Kaleo and Elliot sitting at my kitchen table while my no-nonsense housekeeper peppers them with rapid-fire questions. I wonder if Sorcha will treat me any differently now that she’s aware I’ve been told who I really am. I hope she doesn’t. Sorcha McLintoch has been like a mother to me. In a sad way, she and her daughter are my only friends, and I want things to remain normal between us.
“Have you met everyone else?” I ask, reaching over to the bedside table for my cell phone. “There’s the gardener, Frederick. A cranky old human who’s like, well, my cranky old grandpa. Then there’s Adele. She deals will all the maintenance things here. Sorcha does the cooking. You’ve got to try her coconut buns. They’re to die for.”
I unlock my phone and check the time. My smile fades when I glance at the clock and see how late it is.
“It can’t be eleven in the morning already?” I kick my blankets off and set my coffee on the table. “You Protectors gave me a helluva workout, that’s for sure. Not that I’m complaining, but I never sleep this late. You should’ve woken me.”
Kaleo grabs onto my ankles, and with a look that sends a shiver down my spine, he holds me still. His eyes flick up to meet my own, dark and unfamiliar. “Can we stay like this for a moment?” His deep voice is barely a whisper. “Just you and me. Alone. I… I enjoy it, Your Majesty.” He moves his thumb in circles around my ankles. “In all honesty, I’ve been hoping for some alone time with you.”
He slides his hands up my legs and around my knees, massaging away the slight ache in my muscles. Desire flares through me from his touch, and I shimmy toward him. He lifts me onto his lap, and I wrap my legs around his waist. I realize I’m wearing only a long t-shirt and no panties. Then again, what’s the point in wearing them when I’m surrounded by gorgeous men all the time?
Kaleo dips his face into my neck and inhales, taking in my scent. I kiss the side of his face, and I, too, breathe in his thick musk. The scent reminds me of an exotic oasis shimmering under the blistering sun. I imagine animals trekking over a red desert and stopping to drink from the crystalline water. Leopards. Lions. Cheetahs. I wonder which Kaleo shifts into. He’s definitely stronger and larger than a cheetah.
“I don’t know what species you are,” I whisper into his ear, before biting down on the soft flesh.
Kaleo gasps, his powerful chest pressing into my breasts. “Would you like to see, Your Majesty? Or would you like to guess?”
I groan and release his ear. Taking another strong inhalation, I reply, “You smell like sand and musk and leaves burning on a fire. I fucking love it.”
He digs his fingers into my ass and pulls me against him, positioning my bare pussy above his hardened cock. His voice raspy with lust, he says, “I never in a million years thought this day would come.”
I wriggle against him, pulling a deep growl from my feline protector. “What do you mean?”
He pauses, his dark eyes switching between my own. “I promised to protect you with everything I’ve got. That kitsune chick who almost got you?” He looks away, his eyes cast down toward my lap. “I’ve never felt like such a failure. She could’ve killed you, and I just stood there like a fucking idiot. If not for the omega, I don’t know—”
I smack him lightly on the shoulder. He looks up at me. “Enough of that, Kaleo, or I’ll have to bring out my whip.” I clench my legs around his body, and he grins. “You see that bolted door behind you? That’s my little playroom. If you keep bringing yourself down—hell, if any of my Protectors do—I’ll take you in there and spank your gorgeous ass until it’s the same color as your delicious blood.”
“Is that a threat?” Kaleo smirks, seizing my lips and diving into a deep, passionate kiss.
“It’s a fucking promise,” I murmur against his mouth, his stubble tickling my lips.
Kaleo growls and tightens his grip on my body. With one effortless toss, he throws me back onto the bed. I spread my legs and beckon him forward with a lopsided grin. He leans down and runs his tongue along my leg. I close my eyes, moaning quietly, and then I gasp when he takes a chunk of thigh between his fangs and bites down.
Giv
ing me a wicked chuckle, Kaleo trails his tongue farther north, each lick driving me wild with arousal. He flicks his tongue over my pussy, and I feel his growl vibrate against my sensitive flesh. I squirm on the bed, pushing myself eagerly into his mouth. Coffee in bed and getting tongue fucked by a gorgeous man? What a time to be alive.
I release my clenched eyelids and glance down at him. “You have a wicked tongue, Kaleo.”
My Protector does not reply; his attention rooted on bringing me pleasure. He licks my pussy with precision, each flick of his dexterous tongue sending bursts of pleasure through my veins. His hands find purchase at either side of my thighs, and he yanks, forcing me closer to his mouth.
He thrusts a finger into my pussy and presses the tip of his tongue against my clit. His merciless efforts gather momentum, and he fucks my hole while seducing my clit from under its hood. I curl my toes against the bed sheets and hold my breath, focusing on the pleasure gathering between my thighs. No tongue has ever elicited immediate pleasure such as his does. It feels so fucking good. I thread my fingers into Kaleo’s short hair, but there’s barely anything to grab onto as ecstasy soars through my quivering body, and I hold onto my pillow. I push my heels into the mattress and lift my hips into the air. Kaleo’s hands tighten around my thighs, pinning me down and holding me still.
“Ah, Kaleo, I’m—I’m—!”
Unable to finish, I throw my head against the pillows, and I let go. A rush of wetness pours from my pussy and squirts onto the bed. I lay gasping for a brief moment, basking in the beauty that only indescribable pleasure such as that can bring, and I keep my eyes closed.
Soft lips press against my temple as Kaleo settles beside me, his strong arms pulling me to his chest. “If I had my way, Your Majesty, there wouldn’t be a day that goes by without you cuming for me.”
I grin at him, my eyes still closed and heart racing uncontrollably. “I can’t think of a better way to start my day.”
“Then let me fuck you for as long as I live.”
A chuckle escapes me as I open my eyes. “You said my blood strengthens my Protectors?”
His hooded eyes fix on the prominent veins throbbing in my throat. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
I tilt my head away from him, exposing my long neck, giving him what he wants. Kaleo pauses for a second, then his hunger takes over, and he dips down, sinking his fangs hungrily into my flesh. Another surge of euphoria rushes through my body, my mind, my soul. I allow him to drink from his queen, for I know in that moment, I would bleed myself dry just to feed my Protectors. It’s a sensation unlike any other, so powerful it’s almost suffocating.
Is this why Ronan almost let me drain him the first time I ever tasted his blood? I’d almost killed him that day long ago, and yet Ronan hadn’t restrained me or asked me to stop. He’d held me in his arms, his strength slowly waning, and allowed me to drink, to consume, until I could no longer think straight.
Kaleo retracts his fangs from my skin. Licking the blood from his lips, he blinks up at me, no doubt checking my complexion. Oddly enough, I feel no sense of diminishment or weakening. If anything, I feel stronger. Invigorated. I give him a reassuring smile. His eyes have returned to their original, golden hue again, settling my anxiety about their sudden change. I hoped my blood would fix that.
“Do you feel better now, my love?”
He gives me a slow nod, his tongue still lapping the blood from his lips. “Would you like me to bring you breakfast in bed?”
I laugh. “Now that does sound amazing since you did eat my waffle, but…” I glance at my ensuite. “I’m going to shower first, and then I’ll come downstairs.”
Kaleo nods and pushes off me. I watch him leave my bedroom and close the door behind him before I let out a drawn-out sigh.
“You’re a lucky fucking woman, Violet,” I say to myself, smirking.
Who’d have thought my becoming queen would have so many wonderful benefits? True, some bullshit comes with the title, like assassins wanting to kill me, but I honestly can’t imagine life without my Protectors now.
I throw my legs over the bed and sink my feet into the thick, shaggy rug. Glancing around the room, I take in my surroundings, and a wave of guilt washes over me.
I’m back home.
My mother died not a week ago, and here I am, feeling surprisingly at ease and happy. But I can’t seem to help myself. My body craves my Protectors, and my heart longs to make them happy, which, in turn, makes me ecstatic. Mother wanted me to do this. She wanted me to be safe. She would want me to be happy. Wouldn’t she?
Pushing my feelings of guilt to the side, I cross my bedroom floor and step into the spacious ensuite. My mother actually designed the vast majority of Sinclaire Manor herself, including the powerful magic that protects the walls and forest. Everything about this place has a distinctive grandness to it, from the intricate woodwork down to the antique furniture and century-old tapestries hanging on the walls. Her style had always been a blend of history and class.
My room, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. It took a lot of convincing, but in the end, my mother allowed me to design my own room and make it my sanctuary of sorts. I’ve always preferred rustic furnishings over opulence. There’s not a single thing is inside here that doesn’t hold a specific memory that’s entirely my own.
My bed was carved from the wood Ronan and I collected from the huge forest surrounding our manor. I remember the exact day we went on that hike. It was past midnight, and Ronan kept insisting we go back home, but I’d seen the exact tree I wanted to use for my four-poster bed.
The vaulted ceiling and support beams were constructed from the same dark wood. Most of the rugs, curtains, and furry blankets were handmade by Sorcha and me. We usually donate our creations to local charities.
It feels beautiful and incredibly special to begin creating new memories with my Protectors at my side.
As soon as I enter the kitchen, Ronan hands me a protein shake. I take a sip of the dark, yummy blood and hop onto the granite island. A light breeze creeps in from the bay window and over my snug, hand-knitted dress. The thick, navy material rises above my knees as I fold one leg over the other, and the studs from my suede boots beam over the flagstone tiles. All eyes turn to me as I settle on the island.
“So,” I say, gazing at each of my Protectors. “How are you guys settling in?”
They pause for a moment, blink at me, and then burst into laughter. I laugh too, knowing full well Sorcha’s inquisition couldn’t have been pleasant.
It’s Elliot who replies first. “We survived Sorcha’s induction, if that’s what you mean.” He snorts and jumps up beside me. He crosses his legs, his knees touching my thigh, and gives a wolfish grin. “I think she likes me though.”
“Speaking of the devil,” Ronan murmurs, nodding toward the door.
Sorcha strides into the spacious kitchen. She barely steps over the threshold before she envelops me in a suffocating hug. She presses my face into her large bosom and rocks me from side to side, squeezing me with surprising strength for such an old woman. A list of complaints tumbles from her lips as she embraces me: Frederick hasn’t trimmed the front garden; Adele’s off sick with a migraine for the day, which means Sorcha’s got her work cut out for her, and there’s still much to do.
Tears prick my eyes as I listen to her ranting. The fox shifter stands almost taller than Ronan, broader, too, and her sharp wit and tongue are a force to be reckoned with. Her snowy white hair is tied into a tight bun at the crown of her head and her small, beady eyes are the same light blue as her daughter Adele’s.
“I can’t… breathe… Sorcha…” I pat her on the back, hoping she’ll release me. “How… are you?”
She loosens her grip on me, but still presses my face to her chest. “Aye. Aye, I’m okay, lass. And you?” She holds me at arm’s length and studies me, running her eyes from my face down to my boots. “How the devil are you? You look skinnier
. Have you been eating?” she adds with an accusatory raise of her bushy brows.
I roll my eyes at her. “I’m good, Sorcha. It’s only been a couple of days, but I’ll have you know I survived my first assassination attempt.” I wiggle my own brows at her, waiting for her reaction.
Her crinkled eyes give me the once over, then she throws her head back and laughs. “Thank heavens for that, lass. Seems like this lot,” she gestures to my Protectors, “are good for something.”
Her tone and expression don’t even falter. She must have known about everything after all. For some reason that reassures me. My Protectors have their work cut out for them though; she hasn’t warmed up to them completely yet.
“Did you know that Elliot’s never tasted a coconut bun before?” she asks, clicking her tongue. “I have a lot to teach these young lads.”
I widen my eyes at Elliot in mock surprise. “You’ve never tried one? They’re pretty much a daily occurrence here. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, supper…”
Heat rises to his cheeks and he squirms beside me on the countertop. “Well, I, umm, ended up trying them in the end.”
Sorcha snaps her head toward him. “You did not!”
“Oh, he did,” Ronan says, nodding at the refrigerator. “The whole batch. God knows where he stores all the calories.”
Sorcha smacks Elliot on the side of the head. “You little bugger! They were for Violet. I’ll have to make some more now.” At last, she releases me, and I take a deep breath. “I’ll get some coffee going too,” she says, scurrying over to the kettle. She rolls up her dress sleeves and tightens the white apron around her thick waist. “Violet, I’ve laid breakfast out in the dining room for you. Go away and fill your stomach, lass.”
“Just don’t wear yourself out,” I chide, my voice full of concern. Sorcha means the world to me. “I don’t mind helping. I’m still just me. You know that, right?”
She waves a hand at me and scoffs. “Don’t speak such nonsense. I’ll bring you all some tea in a minute. Go on. Away with you.”