Passion of the Vampire King (Blood Fire Saga Book 5) by Bella Klaus (best motivational books txt) 📗

“We have less than an hour,” he murmured into the kiss.

His lips were firm, demanding, utterly intoxicating, and made my heart gallop toward the void in his chest. Valentine’s strong arms wrapped around me, pulling us together, and his thick erection pressed into my belly. Heat flooded my core and the pulse between my legs pounded as urgently as my heart. If we didn’t stop ourselves now, we would spend all our time having sex and decide nothing.

I placed my palms on his chest and drew back, taking in our surroundings. “We need to talk.”

The room we were in was different from the one before, with a bed with four posts that ended in a gentle light that illuminated the ivory decor. In the place of a headboard was a mirror with an ornate frame of pale metal flowers that matched the embroidery of the coverlet.

“Later.” He encircled me with his arms and pressed a line of hot kisses against my jaw.

“Valentine!” I slapped him on the chest. “Your uncle Draconius just declared you dead and struck you from the family tree.”

“Then I’ll start a Royal House of my own.” He placed a peck on my lips. “How do you like Griffin?”

I turned my head to the side, trying not to let myself get distracted. “And he’s going to put Kain on the throne.”

Valentine stiffened, but he continued lavishing kisses on my neck. “I’ll deal with that boy after I’ve dealt with Kresnik.”

My entire body went rigid at the implication that something terrible would happen to Kain. It was bad enough to have Valentine snarl at men around me, but threatening Kain was unacceptable.

His grip around my shoulders loosened, and he stared down at me with a frown. “Innamorata?”

“Do you really mean to kill an innocent boy who already lost his parents?” I didn’t give Valentine a chance to answer. “You tracked down Kain and brought him to Logris as your ward. Now the poor boy is being bullied into a throne he doesn’t want because your brothers won’t step up to the responsibility.”

Valentine scowled. It was the kind of expression a person would make when someone was ruining his booty call. I didn’t care that he’d snuck away from being Kresnik’s preternatural henchman to give me today’s dose of thrall. He had to listen to me before we ran out of time.

“What do you want?” he asked, his eyes expressionless.

“Could you let me speak without pawing me?”

His gaze dropped to the swell of my breasts. “Of course.”

“Up here.” I pointed at my face.

He met my eyes with an impatient glower. “I’m listening.”

After inhaling a deep breath, I launched into what happened today in Hades’ office. A muscle in his jaw twitched, presumably because he had ordered me to stay away from the Demon King, but I ignored his irritation to repeat Prince Draconius’s threats. His eyes narrowed when I told him that his uncle wanted to put him to death for being a preternatural.

“I texted Lazarus to ask if he and your other brothers still wanted to kill you—”

“They tried and failed.” Valentine closed the small distance between us, engulfing me in his masculine scent. He was sandalwood and musk and smoke and curled around my senses, quickening the throbbing between my thighs.

I bit down on the inside of my cheek, braced a hand against the wall, and pressed my legs together. Valentine wasn’t bluffing about being able to deal with his four brothers. The day he had risen from the dead as a preternatural, they’d come at him with supernatural weapons, and he fought them off with magic and strength. Now that he was looking so well-fed, I guessed that made him even more powerful.

Valentine wrapped his arms around my waist. “Show me what you're hiding beneath those overalls.”

The blood rushing though my veins roared at me to take off the cloak, to put aside ten or fifteen minutes for sex. My core ached and throbbed with need, and even my nerve endings yearned for his touch. It would be so easy to strip down and let Valentine take what he wanted, especially when he sucked on my neck and sent sparks of pleasure racing across my skin.

I opened my eyes and my gaze caught on the mirror over the bed. It reflected a woman on her own, wearing a black cloak, looking like a weirdo in the throes of self-inflicted passion. In other words, a bucket of cold water.

“Wait.” I placed a hand on his chest.

“What now?” he asked.

I took Valentine’s hand, led him to the four-poster bed, and pushed him down by the shoulders onto the mattress.

Lust glazed his eyes, and he parted his full lips, staring up at me as though I was dessert. He positioned me between his spread legs, reached around my waist, and lowered his hands down my back to grab my ass.

“We still haven’t finished our conversation,” I said, stepping back with both palms raised.

Valentine stared at me, unmoving, unbreathing, unimpressed. Days ago, he would have pounced on me, taken what he wanted, and left me an exhausted and satisfied mess. Now that there were no agents of Kresnik watching us, he was back to being mostly himself.

“I need you,” I murmured.

His gaze dropped down to the erection protruding from his black jeans. Then he spread his arms wide to meet my eyes with a raised brow.

I clamped my lips together to suppress a smile. It was only last night that I met with Valentine’s soul, and his warning still rang through my ears.

“Uncle Draconius is threatening the Supernatural Council to install Kain as the regent. You need to return to Logris, take back your throne, and repeal the taxes the Mage King made you issue to your subjects.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “These are all matters that can all be resolved when I kill Kresnik.”

My shoulders sagged. How could I possibly expect a man without a soul to care