She sucked in sharply. "Turn around. Now."
"No."
Even though she made no sound, he knew she came forward at that moment, and the triumph he felt wiped out the disassociation. He lived for breaking her. It was f**king heroin in his veins, this power coursing through him. Yeah, afterward he would feel dirty as f**k, and, sure, he lived with nightmares because of all this, but right now he was seriously getting off.
The Princess came around in the shadows, and he knew when she saw what he was up to, because she moaned out loud, not even her symphath reserve strong enough to hold in her response.
"If you're going to look at me" - he squeezed the head of his c**k again until it went purple and he had to arch his back from the pain - "I want to see you."
She stepped into the moonlight, and he lost his rhythm for a moment.
The Princess was dressed in a brilliant red gown, the rubies at her throat glowing against her paper white skin. Her blue-black hair was coiled on her head, her eyes and lips the same color as the bloodred stones around her neck. From her earlobes, two albino scorpions hung from their stinger tails, watching him.
She was hideously beautiful. An upright reptile with hypnotic eyes.
Her arms were crossed in front of her waist and tucked into the floor-length sleeves of her dress, but she dropped them now, and he didn't look at her hands. Couldn't. They disgusted him too much, and if he caught sight of them he would lose his erection.
To keep himself aroused, he slipped his palm under his balls and stretched them up so they framed his cock. As he let both parts of his sex fall back into place, they bobbed with potency.
There was so much she wanted to see of him that her eyes didn't know where to go. As they traced over his chest, they lingered on the pair of red stars that marked his pecs. Vampires thought they were just decoration, but to symphaths , they were evidence of both his royal blood and the two murders he'd committed: Patricide got you stars, as opposed to matricide, which got you circles. Red ink meant he was a member of the royal family.
The Princess did away with her gown, and beneath its lush folds her body was covered in a red satin netting that dug into her skin. In keeping with the largely sexless appearance of her kind, her br**sts were small and her hips smaller. The only way you could be sure she was female was the tiny slit between her legs. The males were likewise androgynous, with their long hair that they wore up as the females did and their identical gowns. Rehv had never seen one of the males naked, thank f**k, but he assumed their cocks had the same little anomaly his own did.
Oh, the joy.
His anomaly was, of course, another reason he liked f**king the Princess. He knew it hurt for her at the end.
"I'm going to touch you now," she said, coming up to him. "Whore."
Rehv steeled himself as her hand closed around his arousal, but he gave her only a moment of contact. Stepping back sharply, he popped his c**k out of her grip.
"Are you going to end our relationship?" he drawled, hating the words he spoke. "Is that why you blew me off the other night? This shit too boring for you?"
She came forward, as he knew she would. "Come now, you're a toy of mine. I'd miss you terribly."
"Ah."
This time when she grabbed him, she dug her nails into his shaft. He held his gasp in by tightening his shoulders until his collarbones nearly snapped.
"So you wondered where I was?" she whispered as she leaned into him. Her mouth brushed his throat and the touch of her lips burned his skin. The lipstick she wore was made out of crushed peppers, carefully calibrated to sting. "You worried about me. Ached for me."
"Yeah. That's it," he said, because she would get off on the lie.
"I knew you did." The Princess sank down onto her knees and leaned in. The instant her lips met the head of his cock, the burning sensation from that lipstick made his balls squeeze up like fists. "Ask me."
"For what. A blow job or the why of the reschedule?"
"I'm thinking you need to beg for both." She took his arousal and pushed it up against his belly, then her tongue snaked out and teased the barb at the base of his erection. That barb was the part of him she liked best, the one that locked into place when he came and kept them linked. Personally, he hated the thing, but damn, it felt good to have it played with, even with the pain that came from what was on her mouth.
"Ask me." She let his c**k fall back into place and took him deep into her mouth.
"Ah, shit, suck me," he groaned.
And holy hell, did she ever. She opened that throat of hers and took as much of him as she could. It was great, but the burning was a killer. To pay her back for her little Chanel No. Nightmare lipstick, he grabbed onto her hair and shoved his hips forward, making her choke.
In response, she dug one of her nails into his barb deeply enough to draw blood, and he cried out, tears spearing into his eyes. As one came out onto his cheek, she smiled, no doubt liking the color of the red against his face.
"You're going to say please," she said. "When you ask me to explain."
He was tempted to tell her to hold her breath for that, but instead he repeated the plunge into her mouth and she repeated the dig, and they did that back and forth for a while until they were both panting.
His sex was on fire at this point, raging with heat, pulsing with the need to come in that god-awful mouth of hers.
"Ask me why," she demanded. "Ask me why I didn't show."
He shook his head. "No... you'll tell me when you want to. But I will ask if you're just wasting our time here, or are you going to let me finish?"
She lifted herself up from the floor, went over to the window, and braced herself on the sill with those horrible hands. "You can come. But only inside me."
The bitch always did that. Always with the inside.
And always with the window. Clearly, even though she couldn't know for sure that he'd come with backup, on some level she knew they were being watched. And if they f**ked in front of the panes of glass, his sentry would be forced to see.
"Finish inside me, damn you."
The Princess arched her back and lifted her ass. The netting she wore ran up her legs and in between her thighs, and he was going to have to rip part of it open to get into her. Which was why she wore it. If her lipstick was bad, the mesh shit on her body was worse.
Rehvenge moved in behind her and dug the fore- and middle fingers of both his hands into the mesh at the small of her back. With a yank, he split the weave free from her ass and her sex.
She was glossy and swollen and begging for him.
Looking over her shoulder, she smiled, revealing perfect, boxy white teeth. "I'm hungry. I saved myself for you. As always."
He couldn't hide his wince. He couldn't stand the idea that he was her only lover - it would have been much better to be part of a grounds crew of males, so that what happened between them didn't loom so large. Plus the parity nauseated him. She was his only lover, too.
He shoved himself into her sex, knocking her forward until her head banged into the glass. Then he grabbed onto her hips and slid slowly out. Her legs quivered in a series of waves, and he hated that he was giving her what she wanted. So he pushed slowly back in, stopping halfway to home so she didn't get all of him.
Her red eyes spit fire over her shoulder. "More, thank you."
"Why didn't you show, my lovely bitch."
"Why don't you shut up and finish?"
Rehv leaned down and ran his fangs across her shoulder. The mesh was coated in scorpion venom, and he felt an instant numbing of his lips. That bad shit was going to be all over his hands and his body after the f**king was done, so he was going to have to shower at his safe house as soon as possible. It wasn't going to be fast enough. He was going to be viciously ill, as usual. Since she was a full-bred symphath, the venom didn't affect her; to her it was like perfume, an enhancement. To his vampire nature, which was especially susceptible, it was straight-up poison.
He slowly pulled out and eased back in a couple of inches. He knew he had her good when her three-knuckled fingers dug into the old, weathered wood of the sill.
God, those hands of hers, with their trio of joints and the fingernails that grew out red... they were something from a horror movie, the kind of thing that wrapped around the lip of a coffin before the undead came out and killed the good guy.
"Tell... me... why... bitch..." He punctuated the words with his rhythm. "Or no finish for either of us."