Filthy Rich Vampire (Filthy Rich Vampires Book 1)

Even the cello couldn’t calm my mind. I sat in the ballet studio. Something about it reminded me of practicing with the orchestra or peeking in on Olivia during rehearsals. It was a place that felt more like home than Paris did at the moment. As soon as Sebastian brought me here, I had traded my evening gown for a silk robe, dragged a footstool into the room, and began to play. Berlioz had seen that the instrument arrived in pristine condition, already perfectly turned, and I was grateful for his attention to detail.

The bow felt good in my hands as I began playing every piece I had ever memorized. My bare feet felt like ice on the cold wooden floor, but I didn’t care. I was determined to escape the prison of waiting. There was a time when music would have been enough to transport me to another place and time. Tonight, my mind and heart kept straying to Julian–wherever he was. Sebastian’s reassurances that he could handle himself only reminded me that the man I loved was fighting people who wanted him dead. What if they took him from me?

What if they took my mate?

Without meaning to, I began to play Schubert–the piece I’d been playing the night I met Julian. Death and the Maiden. It was almost enough to make me laugh now. I closed my eyes and let the panicked notes of the music reflect the turmoil churning inside me. It shifted between sad longing and fear and something that felt like a chase. I followed suit, my heart rising and crashing along with the score. The andante con moto began, and tears burned my eyes. I refused to open them. I refused to cry until…

Julian was next to me. He placed a hand on my shoulder gently and murmured, “Don’t stop.”

I’d been so lost in my thoughts and the music that I hadn’t heard the door open. I did as he asked. I continued to play as he knelt behind me and rested his forehead against my shoulder. I peeked in the mirror through my wet lashes. He’d stripped himself of his tuxedo, his hair wet, as if he’d just showered. And then it hit me–why he wanted to immediately bathe. My bow slipped for a moment, splintering the air with a missed note. Julian didn’t budge. I continued on. He looked as if he was praying. Was he? Later, I would ask him about what he lost tonight. Or rather, what we lost, because any grief he carried was mine now, too.

I paused as I reached the end of the andante, and he pressed a kiss to my back. “Keep playing, pet.”

The heat of his mouth lingered on my skin, the silk no match for his kiss. I continued. Now that he was here–now that I could feel him, each moment I played, I slipped further into a state of peace. After a few minutes, an arm wrapped around my waist. I barely noticed until his hands slipped my robe off my shoulders. My eyes shut as cool air nipped at my bare skin. I wore nothing underneath the robe, and Julian let out a slight hiss of approval.

“Keep going,” he instructed me. His mouth traveled along my spine. I sighed, trying not to tremble as he kissed my bare skin. He took his time, worshipping my flesh, and slowly returned to my neck. I felt a fang drag across my shoulder, and I sucked in a steadying breath. I had no idea if I could keep playing if he bit me. My core throbbed at the thought of him feeding on me as I played for him, and a soft moan spilled out of me. He paused, allowing the sharp points to press against my skin before he planted a kiss over the spot.

No bite.

He moved his mouth to my ear and spoke just loud enough for me to hear over the music. “I have imagined this since the moment I saw you play. Open your eyes while we play together.”

I sucked in a deep breath and allowed my eyes to flutter open. Julian rested his forehead against my shoulder as he moved his hand down. His fingers spread me open, and I nearly missed a note.

“Should I stop?” he asked.

I shook my head, determined to continue. He lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine, and then he began to play. His fingers danced over my swollen flesh. I couldn’t see them behind the reflection of the cello, which blocked all but my shoulders up from view. But I felt each longing note. Music built inside me, rising and bringing with it a staccato series of throbs. Each beat of pleasure was violent and promising. I thought of the opera–of his fangs inside me–and I lost control. The bow clattered to the floor. I reached behind me and wrapped my arm around his neck as he orchestrated the final bars of our duet.

Cries spilled from my lips as he brought me to a crescendo and held me as I fell into his music.

When all that remained was the lingering rhythm of my pulse, he steadied me and took the cello from my hand. I saw myself in the mirror. Floral silk puddled under my spread legs, my sex glistening with the wet heat of climax, and every inch of my body on display. I stared at the stranger I saw there.

She walked with death.

She knew desire.

She craved the forbidden.

Julian returned and stood behind me, his hands on my shoulders and his eyes sweeping across the body on display. I allowed myself the same pleasure. There was no mistaking him for a human. He had the body of an ancient god, not that of a man. His muscled chest was so well-defined, so perfectly chiseled, that it looked as if he had been sculpted from marble. He was simply perfection.

No words passed between us. But something else grew inside me. Not the constant hunger I felt for his touch. That was always present. This sensation planted itself in my chest as we watched each other in silence. It blossomed and stretched until I was sure I would crack open. I was changing. I couldn’t deny it. I wouldn’t.

I knew what I wanted.

I lifted my hand and placed my palm carefully over the hand resting on my shoulder. His nostrils flared at the audacious touch, but he didn’t pull away. It was the most intimate message I could send him.

My hands contained no magic. I had none to offer. I only had one thing to give him:

Myself.

Every bit of me. My heart, my soul, my body, and with it, my future.

“Take me to bed,” I murmured.

Julian remained still. A muscle clenched in his jaw, but he didn’t hide the battle in his eyes. He released me and stepped away. My heart splintered, until he moved around the stool and lifted me from it. He scooped me into his strong arms, urging my legs around his waist as his mouth found mine. I coiled my arms around his neck, pressing my bare sex against his skin. He didn’t falter or pause as he carried me out of the studio and to the bedroom.

He laid me carefully across the bed and hesitated.

I stretched my body, rolling onto my stomach, and reached for the drawstring of his silk pajamas. He didn’t speak as I unknotted it and pushed the pants off his narrow hips. His erection sprang free, and I shifted onto my hands and knees. Taking his length in my hand, I stroked as I lowered my mouth over him. Every muscle in his body went rigid as I pleasured him. A hand fisted my hair, trying to slow me, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. All I wanted was to erase his memories of tonight, even if only for a stolen moment.

His fingers tightened, but I continued until a growl ripped through the air. A moment later, I was in the air as he tossed me onto my back. He pounced, his strong arms caging my body as he hovered over me. My legs fell open in welcome. Julian’s head lifted, and he drew in a deep breath, drinking in the air. When he looked down at me, his eyes were black.

I had no idea what I was doing. I could only go on instinct. I lifted my hips to brush against him, and his mouth opened. Fangs descended, and I steeled myself.

I knew what I wanted: to be his in every way he wanted me.

I turned my head to the side, offering him my neck. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw agony flash across his face. He reached out with one hand and gripped my chin. I closed my eyes, ready for his bite. Instead, he turned my face back.

“No, pet,” he said stiffly. “Not like this.”

I opened my eyes and stared into the black pools of his eyes. “I’m your mate, Julian. I am yours. All of me. My body. My blood. You can have both. You can have everything.”

His mouth crashed against mine. A fang nipped my lip, and an iron tang filled my mouth as the kiss deepened. I didn’t know if he’d meant to spill my blood or if it was an accident, but I didn’t care. Julian shifted, his weight pressing against me, and then I felt his hand between my legs. I moaned into the kiss as his thumb brushed briefly over my clit. Then it disappeared. Before I could cry out, something softer and broader swept over it. I was so lost in his kiss that it took me a moment to realize what it was. It nudged against my entrance, and I gasped. Julian reared back and watched me as he dragged the tip of his cock along my seam.

His breathing was ragged, and his eyes remained black as I writhed under him.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he said hoarsely. “You don’t know what you’re giving up.”

I swallowed. I’d thought of nothing else since I learned the truth. I understood. “I choose this,” I whispered. “I choose you. I choose to be tethered.”

His eyes closed, and then very slowly, he pressed against me. My body protested, a circle of flames erupting where he’d yet to breach me. I clawed at the sheets, grabbing fistfuls of fabric to squeeze as I waited for him to take the last of my innocence.

Julian brought his lips to mine and kissed me until I was breathless. The fire cooled as he began to stroke himself along me again. “I will never deserve you.”

“You’ve got me anyway,” I said fiercely. There was so much for me to learn about him. I’d only glimpsed some of the shadows of his past, but with every second that passed, I was more certain that my life was inextricably linked to his. Julian’s forehead pressed against mine as he pushed slowly inside me. I caught my breath, waiting for the pain to pass, but then it disappeared.

I opened my eyes to see his blue eyes gazing down on me. Sorrow burned in them. “I can’t,” he said, cutting me off when I opened my mouth, to add, “I won’t, Thea.”

Sharp pain sliced through me, and a moment later, fat tears rolled down my cheeks at his rejection. He turned away, and I felt a stab of embarrassment for being so pathetic.

I tried to squirm out from under him, but he held me firmly.

“I won’t,” he repeated, breaking my heart again, “because I love you.”

And then he reached over and pressed his palm to mine.