The Porcelain Prince (Vampires, #1) by Calin Ana

Author:Calin, Ana
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: vampire romance
Publisher: Ana Calin
Published: 2021-05-28T16:00:00+00:00

Cage

ONE MORE NIGHT UNTIL the concert. One last night spent in Aimee’s bedroom.

She’s already asleep, dressed in teddy bear pajamas that would kill even a desperate man’s boner. Oversized, colorful, fit for a girl, not a woman. But when she sleeps, and she no longer controls the expression of her face, that’s when she really glows.

Aimee Rouge is the only woman I’ve ever had a spiritual connection with. I’ve spent every night in her room this past week, and it still feels like it’s been only hours. That’s also because we spent a great chunk of the time planning our defense with my brothers. We’ve been in show biz for so long, that death threats have become a common thing, so we’re used to participating in high security plans. Death threats stopped worrying us on any real level once we became vampires. If anything, they amuse us when they happen. But we still have to play our roles, and travel around with legions of bodyguards, which will come in handy now, too.

Only that those legions won’t really help us, not against the kind of weapons that Lear Kwan will be using.

I brush a strand of hair behind Aimee’s ear, trying to understand this torn feeling I have inside. There’s emotional pleasure on the one hand, and crushing guilt on the other. I’m taking away her life and her freedom, and now I’m occupying her dreams and her visions. It’s wrong, all so wrong. And yet I wouldn’t have it any other way. Her scent is like a drug. I’ve never known addiction before, but if anything would have me coming back for more, it’s this. I look forward to her falling asleep at night so I can lay slowly on the bed next to her, like I do now.

I trace her scent along her neck, the tip of my nose barely touching her skin before I sink it into her hair. I do it gently, not out of tenderness, but out of caution. Her blood pumps steadily through her veins, and in the absence of powerful emotions it’s usually bearable to be around her. But sometimes, just sometimes, when she gets the visions, the rhythm of her pulse changes, and it’s like a symphony of blood plays around me.

It takes me to a whole new level of miserable. I slip my hand under the duvet, and then slowly into the elastic waistband of her pajama pants, fully aware that what I’m doing is wrong, and yet completely unable to restrain myself. My fingers go further down along smooth skin, then brush over her curls.

My heart stops.

She’s not wearing panties. She usually changes in the bathroom, the only place where she’s entirely sure of her privacy, but that she would fall asleep in the same room as me without wearing panties, it’s kind of—No. I’m thinking like a fucking rapist justifying his lust. This isn’t a veiled invitation, and I should stop right here, get off her bed, out of this room, somewhere where the temptation wouldn’t follow me.

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