“We are no guiltier in following the primitive impulses that govern us than is the Nile for her floods or the sea for her waves.”
― Marquis de Sade, Aline et Valcour
A cold hand slipped around shoulder making him jump and the familiar weight of breasts being pressed against him. He turned to see the woman from earlier. The vision of her fangs deep inside another woman’s throat flashed through his mind. Baltasar wanted to push her away, but that would give him the wrong attention.
“Got eyes for our beloved King, do you?” She whispered in his ear.
Baltasar couldn’t quite repress the shiver, “Well, he’s a bit of a looker.”
“You would have a better chance with me,” The woman chuckled, slowly her hand running down his neck, her sharp nails running over his neck and then down his muscular chest. “Ooh, so fit!” She cooed at him.
“I rarely get this forward with women I’m not on the first-name basis with.”
The woman threw her head back and laughed. Her long straight dark raven hair falling around her beautiful oval-shaped face. Baltasar had to wonder if being attractive was one benefit of becoming a vampire. Every vampire he had ever encountered could have stepped off the pages of some fashion magazine.
“I’m Sahiqa.” She imperiously put out her hand, Baltasar leaned forward to kiss it.
“Baltasar,” He replied.
He gazed back to the throne and Izîl was talking to a group of vampires while Jalen stood silently behind him. Sahiqa ran her sharp nails through his hair and Baltasar once again forcibly repressed the bile that threatened to rise at this creature’s touch. “Would you care to dance?”
Sahiqa preened, “I thought you would never ask.”
He reluctantly took her arm and lead her on to the dance floor. He wrapped his arms around her, and she pressed against him her arms once again wrapping around his neck. They swayed to the soft music.
“So, what do you, Baltasar?”
“It’s something terribly dull.”
She laughed as he spun her around and brought her back against him. “What’s that?”
“Sell insurance.” Sahiqa wrinkled her nose. “Your right it is dull.”
Baltasar for what felt like the dozenth time that night glanced back at the throne then froze when he noticed it was empty. His feet automatically kept with the steps, his eyes scanning the crowd but he found nothing at first and then he finally spotted the King–
and he was headed right for Baltasar!
Sahiqa frowned at him and followed his gaze. She rolled her eyes, “Of course, it’s Izîl.”
Both of them bowed as the King approached.
She put her hands up, “Let me guess? You want to cut in?”
Izîl grinned and Baltasar couldn’t help but admit that his smile was just as beautiful as the rest of him. Unfortunately, Baltasar knew that behind that pretty smile was a ruthless murderer.
“Oh, don’t pout so,” Izîl replied, Baltasar felt goosebumps rise on the back of his neck. “You can still have fun with Evangeline.”
“Fine,” Sahiqa sighed, and flipped her hair, “you always take the good ones.”
Izîl chuckled and Baltasar couldn’t help the low throaty sound made his heartbeat that much faster. He looked away his cheeks going flush. Baltasar inwardly chided himself, “I need to get a hold on myself.” The younger man threw the vampire King a flirty grin. He hoped it didn’t look as fake as it felt.
“Would you like to dance, Baltasar?”
Despite himself, Baltasar still felt his stomach tighten with a sudden desire at the way the vampire said his name. The strange accent rolling over the word like a physical caress. “Yes,” he replied breathlessly. Izîl put out his hand and automatically Baltasar put his hand in the cold hand and their bodies pressed together as the music changed to waltz.
Baltasar frowned as something abruptly occurred to him, “How did you know my name?”
Izîl lifted an eyebrow, “My, precept told me.”
“My second in command and heir.”
Baltasar snorted, “Why not a prince?”
“I have no idea? Izîl laughed, “It simply has always been the title for someone in his position.”
They danced for what seemed like forever; moving seamlessly together as the music transition from] one song from one song to another. Time for a while appears to not exist. Baltasar didn’t see how they had the entire room’s attention. He didn’t hear the whispers and Baltasar, certainly didn’t the speculative looks or Jalen’s piercing stare. Baltasar could only concentrate on not betraying the conflicting urges pressing closer or to flee from the dangerous predator that was only inches away from him.
Suddenly, the scant few centimeters separating them disappeared and Baltasar swallowed back the moan as he felt Izîl’s hard leather-encased cock rubbing against his trouser leg. He looked up into Izîl’s eyes that were now glowing a frightening shade of red.
Baltasar’s mind instantly went to the stakes in his coat jacket, but as he started to look around at the curious gazes Baltasar knew that if he went for them now that they would rip him apart. He couldn’t help but stiffen as Izîl bent his head. His mouth so close to his jugular, as Baltasar’s swallowed.
“You smell so good,” He whispered. He looked up, his dreadlocks were a curtain separating them from the rest of the world, his eyes intense with hunger. “I must have you.”
One moment Baltasar was in the ballroom, and the next he was being dragged into the hallway.
“What about the ball,” Baltasar asked, half-heartedly protesting Izîl said nothing and continued to tug Baltasar along like he was some unruly puppy. The loud noise and music from the party fading away from the farther they went.
They stopped in front of a room with large double doors and Baltasar really didn’t have time to get more of a glimpse of the interior besides a huge window and an enormous bed because he was immediately being slammed against the wall. The lines of the gilded walls digging into his back as Izîl ravaged his mouth. Baltasar groaned and as Izîl’s lips were on his.
Izîl lips were rough and demanding and Baltasar couldn’t help but melt against him. His cock was fully hard and smearing the inside his underwear. All he could help but rub against Izîl’s hard length. Baltasar winced and jerked back and touched his lip and saw that this was a drop of blood. He looked up to Izîl’s face, his eyes completely focused on Baltasar’s pale hands
Izîl’s snatched his hand, and then Baltasar couldn’t help the sharp pang of both fear and lust that slithered up his spine as Izîl sucked in his fingers between his full lips. The vampire’s cold tongue licking his finger, the vampire’s eyes closed in obvious ecstasy.
Izîl dropped his fingers and then abruptly jerked him hard against Baltasar. The vampire growled as took Baltasar’s lips, his tongue swiping over the human’s lips before dipping in to invade his mouth. Baltasar held on to Izîl, a whimper escaping him as their tongues duel for dominance.
Baltasar thought he would faint from the lack of air before Izîl finally backed away. He licked his lips, “You are delicious.”
Panting, Baltasar could only stare at the vampire.
‘Get a grip on yourself,’ He inwardly chided. himself. “As your majesty commands,” He said as a slow dirty smile curved his lips. Baltasar walked around Izîl to the bed. Slowly, undoing his bow tie, his hips swaying magnetically side to side in an impromptu striptease, Izîl’s eyes burned into him as he avidly watched him throw the bow tie to the side and then slid the coat off slowly before he eventually dropped to the ground.
“It’s not wise to test my patience, Baltasar,” Izîl growled impatiently.
Baltasar smiled, because unknown to the vampire, he had him right where he wants him.