Caressed by a Crimson Moon (Rulers of Darkness) by Amanda J. Greene Page B
Authors: Amanda J. Greene
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good,” Maggie said with a nod. “They will bathe and be sent to your room. In the mean time,” she waved to a human girl who stood beside the bar, “may I interest you in a drink?”
Chapter Eight
Failure.
Hadrian materialized in his room.
A complete waste of time, he thought as he whispered a string of curses. His lips peeling away from his fangs as he growled viciously.
It was just after dawn. He had spent hours at the brothel and—nothing. He had selected the most beautiful females from Maggie’s extensive collection and not one had truly sparked his interest. He had watched as they pleasured themselves and each other, but his lust had not stirred. What man on Earth would not be wild with lust after watching three very sexy women perform such an erotic show?
A crazed man.
Oh, the females had valiantly tried to entice him, but their touch left him cold and more damn confused and frustrated than he had ever been.
Anger boiled his blood as he stalked to the washroom. Tearing at his clothes with his razor like claws, he started the shower with his mind. He needed to scrub free the rancid stench of lewd sex and absolute failure.
Not waiting for the water to heat, he stepped under the icy shower. Lathering a washcloth, he scrubbed his skin until it felt raw and burned red. Once satisfied he was clean, Hadrian pressed his palms flat against the porcelain tile. Arms locked and straight, his muscle’s tense. The water rained over his over his body in cool, soothing waves. Tiny droplets dripped from his chin and nose.
“That damn half-breed,” he said with an exasperated sigh.
His pretty little ward had gotten under his skin.
Even as he had lain in bed with the women, naked limbs brushing over him as they massaged his muscles, their lips skipping across his flesh, their fangs gently teasing as their breast caressed him, Eva had consumed his thoughts and his chest had ached in a bizarre way.
Had it been guilt? She was his ward, not his betrothed, not his wife. She was nothing but a pawn in a political battle of wills, and yet, as the women had kissed, licked, and suckled him, the nauseating sense of betrayal knotted his gut.
Had he actually felt shame?
Yes.
As he had lain beneath the women, he had found himself wishing he were with Eva. Wishing that she were the one kissing his chest while her elegant fingers pumped his cock.
A moan escaped his lips as he became hard. His eyes drifted closed as his imagination went wild. Her long, dark hair would fall about her waist in waves as she leaned over him. Her generous breasts would brush over his chest, her hard nipples teasing him as she slid down his body to his aching erection. She would trace the crown of the head with her tongue before sucking him between her soft, pouting lips.
Hadrian’s hand slipped from the wall to grip his shaft. His fist worked the hard length, his body growing taut as he envisioned Eva. Her smooth, golden skin would glow in the candlelight. He could almost feel her hips cradle his, her legs encircling his waist as he drove into her.
He shuddered as he came, his legs nearly giving out on him. Stumbling, he pressed his back to the cool wall. His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as the intense pleasure of his orgasm receded. The relief and calm that accompanied his release quickly faded as his anger rose to the front.
Shutting off the water, he shoved open the glass door. It snapped back, the force causing it to shatter, sending shards of glass sliding across the floor. He stepped out, snatched a towel, and roughly dried himself. Feeling no pain as he padded over the sharp edges that covered the floor, he stormed from the bathroom.
After slipping on a pair of jeans, Hadrian collapsed in the chair behind his desk.
His hunger for blood was nothing he could not handle, having lived on the verge of starvation for so long. He was accustomed to the ache that came with the deprivation of his body. He
Chapter Eight
Failure.
Hadrian materialized in his room.
A complete waste of time, he thought as he whispered a string of curses. His lips peeling away from his fangs as he growled viciously.
It was just after dawn. He had spent hours at the brothel and—nothing. He had selected the most beautiful females from Maggie’s extensive collection and not one had truly sparked his interest. He had watched as they pleasured themselves and each other, but his lust had not stirred. What man on Earth would not be wild with lust after watching three very sexy women perform such an erotic show?
A crazed man.
Oh, the females had valiantly tried to entice him, but their touch left him cold and more damn confused and frustrated than he had ever been.
Anger boiled his blood as he stalked to the washroom. Tearing at his clothes with his razor like claws, he started the shower with his mind. He needed to scrub free the rancid stench of lewd sex and absolute failure.
Not waiting for the water to heat, he stepped under the icy shower. Lathering a washcloth, he scrubbed his skin until it felt raw and burned red. Once satisfied he was clean, Hadrian pressed his palms flat against the porcelain tile. Arms locked and straight, his muscle’s tense. The water rained over his over his body in cool, soothing waves. Tiny droplets dripped from his chin and nose.
“That damn half-breed,” he said with an exasperated sigh.
His pretty little ward had gotten under his skin.
Even as he had lain in bed with the women, naked limbs brushing over him as they massaged his muscles, their lips skipping across his flesh, their fangs gently teasing as their breast caressed him, Eva had consumed his thoughts and his chest had ached in a bizarre way.
Had it been guilt? She was his ward, not his betrothed, not his wife. She was nothing but a pawn in a political battle of wills, and yet, as the women had kissed, licked, and suckled him, the nauseating sense of betrayal knotted his gut.
Had he actually felt shame?
Yes.
As he had lain beneath the women, he had found himself wishing he were with Eva. Wishing that she were the one kissing his chest while her elegant fingers pumped his cock.
A moan escaped his lips as he became hard. His eyes drifted closed as his imagination went wild. Her long, dark hair would fall about her waist in waves as she leaned over him. Her generous breasts would brush over his chest, her hard nipples teasing him as she slid down his body to his aching erection. She would trace the crown of the head with her tongue before sucking him between her soft, pouting lips.
Hadrian’s hand slipped from the wall to grip his shaft. His fist worked the hard length, his body growing taut as he envisioned Eva. Her smooth, golden skin would glow in the candlelight. He could almost feel her hips cradle his, her legs encircling his waist as he drove into her.
He shuddered as he came, his legs nearly giving out on him. Stumbling, he pressed his back to the cool wall. His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as the intense pleasure of his orgasm receded. The relief and calm that accompanied his release quickly faded as his anger rose to the front.
Shutting off the water, he shoved open the glass door. It snapped back, the force causing it to shatter, sending shards of glass sliding across the floor. He stepped out, snatched a towel, and roughly dried himself. Feeling no pain as he padded over the sharp edges that covered the floor, he stormed from the bathroom.
After slipping on a pair of jeans, Hadrian collapsed in the chair behind his desk.
His hunger for blood was nothing he could not handle, having lived on the verge of starvation for so long. He was accustomed to the ache that came with the deprivation of his body. He
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