I placed my hand on the wall to keep the dizziness at bay. Raquel could probably make me come with her voice alone. The thought of taking her in the Palace of the Angels made my balls so tight I had to lean forward. I was the luckiest bastard in the world.
“Do it,” I ground out and moved to unzip my pants.
“Stay still,” she instructed. “I’ll do all the work.”
And the day got even better…
“Close your eyes,” she whispered in my ear. “Concentrate on my voice. Hear and visualize everything I’m saying and your big problem will go away. I promise.”
“Are you that good?” I teasingly challenged.
“I’m that good plus ten,” she guaranteed.
Her breath feathered warm and sweet on my cheek. The scent of her was my addiction. My need for my mate was almost debilitating. At this point if we didn’t take care of my problem, I’d be useless in a battle or whatever was about to go down.
“I’m ready,” I said gruffly.
“You’re alone in a beautiful room on a big bed—the lights are low and there’s a gentle breeze blowing through the open window. Your sexy body is completely bare and you’re so hard it hurts,” she said softly.
“That’s fairly accurate,” I choked out.
“Shhhhhh,” she admonished. “Just listen… you hear a noise outside your room. A laugh and a moan of desire,” she continued, pulling me into her spell.
Her tone was hypnotizing and I pictured her entering the room gloriously naked and falling atop me. The thought of her bare breasts made my fangs drop.
“There’s a soft knock at the door. Someone wants to join you. Someone needs you more than life itself. Someone wants to pleasure you. Someone wants to fuck you so badly you can feel the need through the closed door. Do you want this?” she asked in a barely audible whisper.
“Yes,” I hissed. “I want it.”
Her light giggle caused me to clamp my hands to my sides. The desire to grab her was enormous along with my dick at this point. However, the game was sexy so I fought to still myself.
“You tell the person to come in… ”
She paused and I thought I would fucking burst. Why the Hell did she pause?
“And?” I urged her on waiting impatiently for her description of me burying myself to the hilt inside her willing body.
“And in run Martha and Jane naked as jaybirds except for an image of your face waxed out of their private areas. They grunt with glee and their sagging bosoms smack them in their heads as they sprint for your naked body. They jump you and hump you like Samuel’s baboon, Blobbityflonk, humped the couch last week when we were tutoring him. They lick you from head to… ”
“Stop! Sweet Jesus in Hell,” I grunted as my eyes flew open and my erection deflated instantly. “I’m going to be ill.”
“Do you still have your problem?” she inquired with a shit-eating grin and a very un-ladylike cackle.
“No. No I don’t, but I now have an image that’s goddamned un-erasable living in my frontal lobe,” I griped.
“You’re welcome.” She shrugged unapologetically and smirked.
“For scarring me for eternity?” I shot back.
“Yep, and for getting you to think with the right head,” she added with a wink. “Better to use the one on your shoulders when dealing with the Old Guard and the Angels.”
“You could have been a bit more gentle,” I complained. “I feel defiled.”
“I thought you liked it a little rough.”
“Stop,” I insisted and raised both hands in surrender. “Just leave me with alone with my flaccid dick. I don’t think I can take another visualization if you make me hard again.”
“No problem. Happy to have helped.”
“Remind me never to ask for help like that again,” I told her with a grimace.
“Will do. You ready to enter the shit show?”
I glanced down at my now un-tented pants and chuckled. She really was that good plus ten.
“Yes. I’m ready.”
***
It was just as Henry had reported—staid and monotonous. The Angels, about a hundred, sat on the left side of the room. They were clearly one unit, all dressed in flowing white robes that blended into the décor splendidly. Pam was the only celestial creature who stood out in her purple robe and floral headpiece. I smiled at her audacity. She could have sat on either side as she was an Angel mated to the King of the Vampyres, but she loved stirring it up.
The hundred Vampyres were a different story. They were dressed to impress in Prada, Gucci, and everything in between. Clustered on the far right sat the Old Guard. Just as expected, Vlad was clearly in charge of the faction. Raquel’s father, the King, and a contingency of younger Vamps from all over the world were separated from Vlad and his cronies by a few feet.
To the untrained eye it was minimal, but to me it was a clear line drawn in the sand. Raquel’s almost inaudible hiss led me to believe we were in agreement on that point. The loyalists for our King outnumbered the Old Guard, but the sheer age of the elders meant the power division was equal.
We slipped in quietly. It gave us a brief moment to assess the situation. Initially our entrance went unnoticed as the head Angel droned on about punishments for breaking treaties. It was old news—beheadings, banishments to Hell and other unsavory forms of justice. For the times we lived in, our tenets were still quite medieval. However, we were both violent races and brutal consequences were what most of us understood.