Married To The Mad Vampire Lord

"No, she didn’t do anything. But I think her husband is being abusive," she told him what she had noticed in the corridor, and Rohan chuckled dryly.

"The bastard. I’ve heard about him because people say he’s the human version of me in Nightbrook, but I don’t think so. He’s a spineless fool. He married his wife for her beauty, and they’ve been married for two years now without an offspring.

He is to inherit his father’s legacy once he has a son of his own, which must come from his wife and not a mistress. If you ask me, Joshua Clifton should be put in an asylum as well, because he truly needs it. He kills and destroys the lives of many with the excuse that his wife told him to do it. He puts all the blame on her when asked why he did it. Tsk. Only a spineless man would hide behind a woman’s skirt when he commits crimes.

I’d never do that to my wife, so you see, he’s nothing like me." He kissed her shoulder, causing her to smile as warmth swelled in her heart.

"How did you know this when you don’t listen to gossip?" She asked, making him chuckle again.

"Kuhn is a regular visitor at their manor because he feeds on the dying, unfortunate babies’ souls—the ones the lady keeps losing even before they are born. And when Kuhn has nothing to do, he talks away without caring if anyone is listening or not."

Belle’s eyes rounded. "My God, you mean she had miscarriages several times?"

Rohan nodded. He did not care about anyone or the Cliftons, but his wife was curious, thus he told her whatever he knew about the man and his wife—which he had heard from Kuhn, who liked to go there.

They moved to sit on the bench kept on the balcony. freeweɓnøvel.com

Talking to his wife like this made it easier for him to think less of the dark thoughts flashing and invading his mind. A past he had long thought no longer bothered or affected him had come with a vengeance to disrupt his mind.

His mind had been weakened by exhaustion, and so he had to suffer with the past memories and dark thoughts alone, because he would never share any of them with his woman. She would never know any of it.

He did not want Belle involved in his past, did not want it to touch her. Belle was his now—his future.

When they sat on the bench, after he had told her about things she asked, there was a short moment of silence where she was balling up the cotton he had noticed she brought with her. She balled it well and then turned to him.

"Let me change it for you. I made this one a bit thicker so it will block out more than that one did. Bend your head," she said, and he obeyed.

She plugged the ones in his ears out, and immediately Rohan realized just how much they had been helping him because the noise came at him at once. He couldn’t stop himself from groaning and clutching her thighs.

She quickly plugged back the new ones and pushed them into his ears, and immediately he felt relief again—so relieved he went limp for a moment and dropped his head against her shoulder, breathing roughly.

Belle did not know to what extent the noise was disturbing him, but she realized she would have to make sure she did not run out of cotton. She turned to him and used the sleeve of her robe to wipe off the beads of sweat on his forehead.

"Is there nothing to cure the sensitivity to the noise?" she asked quietly.

There was, Rohan thought—his plant—but it was gone and would never be returned to him. Thus, he told her, "There isn’t, but it can be less once I find the time to rest off after the hunt." He raised his hand to touch her cheek.

"How long does the hunt normally last for?" She asked as she saw his gaze lower to her lips.

"A day or two at most. That’s why people are grouped up, so when it turns out they need to camp in the forest, no one would be alone," he explained.

"Oh," Belle said, sounding breathless as his hand slid around her waist and pulled her forward on the bench.

He turned her so she was sitting sideways, straddling the bench facing him, and one of his bent knees slipped between her legs. He leaned down and kissed her.

She tasted of cinnamon and the wind of the late night. Her skin was warm compared to his, cheeks aflame. She was achingly beautiful under the silver glow of the moonlight and in the blue nightdress and robe she wore. She smelled nice, he noted, like she had applied scented oils.

Rohan hadn’t bothered to change into night sleeping attire, as he had none. He was still in his formal suit, but with the coat discarded, and only in his shirtsleeves and trousers.

The memories of Belle’s stares while he dressed in her chamber that evening came to him. He had felt lost at the time; however, her eyes had been on him—but his muddled mind had made him not pay attention until later, when he looked back on their time together. The thought that she had watched him dress had twisted heat through him.

She had looked at him, had no shame in admiring her husband’s bare body. He had always known she wasn’t a delicate lady, and underneath what Aragonia had forced her into was a woman with character.

He pulled her to her feet with him until his cock bumped against her through the fabric of their clothing, needing to be inside her, needing them both bare on the bench.

It was dangerous. They did not have much time before they would have to return to their separate chambers. The last thing he wanted was someone walking in on them and ruining his mood further. But then, he made no attempt to stop kissing her.

Her mouth was warm and welcoming now, lips shaped perfectly to his, her tongue brushing his without coaxing.

His cock throbbed harder. He wanted her mouth on him, wanted her lips wrapped around him while he threaded his hands through her hair and rocked into her. But that was something for when they were back to their home. Not here.

Rohan broke the kiss, savoring how Belle kept her arms wrapped around his neck, her eyes half-lidded, not wanting to let him go. Her lips were damp and red. He kissed them again.

Then, slowly, he unraveled her grip from around his neck and knelt before her on the ground, with her standing and the bench behind her.

He bunched up her robe and nightdress in his hands and pushed it higher. Belle reached down, startled.

"Rohan, what are you...?"

He lifted the dress and robe up to her hips, revealing her feminine undergarment.

He unfastened the hooks and pulled the undergarment free. He’d have to start insisting she not wear one at all whenever they knew they’d be alone, Rohan thought seriously.

Next, he undid the drawstring and tugged them down to her ankles.

He barely registered her faint gasp of protest. His gaze locked onto her, warm, sweet-scented spot—the fiery blonde curls between her thighs already moist.

He leaned in and kissed her, breathing her in.

"You’re wet for me."

A single slender finger traced his temple and he looked up to see her looking down at him with that adorable flush on her face and her shy eyes as she said, "I... I cannot seem to help it. Whenever you are around me... it happens like that."

He smiled and ducked his head between her thighs. "Good. I like you wet for me," he said roughly, dragging his tongue down the seam of her cleft. "I like tasting you."

Her fingers moved through his hair—less restrained now as she bit down on her lower lip to hold back a moan.

"Someone might come and see us," she whispered in alarm.

"Warn me if you see anyone coming," he said simply.

Rohan didn’t care if anyone did. Let the guests see him on his knees, worshiping his wife. They’d know she belonged to him, and know the price if they ever dared touch her.

He held her dress bunched in his fists, the soft material brushing his face as he leaned in. His tongue moved slowly, dancing along her folds.

Belle parted her legs further without him asking. She smelled of honey and lavender—of herself. He drew some of her slickness onto his tongue and paused to savor it.

Her little berry tightened beneath his breath. With his hands still full of her nightdress and robe, Rohan opened his mouth and tasted her deeper. Her legs widened even more as she moaned deep in her throat and tightened her fist around his hair.

"Dripping wet," he murmured.

Her sharp intake of breath nearly broke him.

He covered her with his mouth and drank her in. His tongue circled, his throat worked, pulling every drop from her. This woman was beauty, heat, purity, want.

He wanted her nightdress sliding to her waist, wanted to bare the pink of her nipples and draw them in his mouth, but he couldn’t be at two places at the same time and focused on drinking and pleasing her with his tongue.

"Mine," he whispered. He couldn’t stop himself.

He licked and nipped her, Belle’s sharp little cries like music. His cock pounded, but he ignored it, drowning in her taste and scent.

She rose to her toes, trembling hands in his hair. He barely felt the tugs—he was lost in her, in the velvet heat of her thighs around his face, in the wild rhythm of her gasps.

With his eyes shut, he knew only darkness and Belle.

She arched against him, begging silently for more, and Rohan gave it. His tongue flickered faster, drawing out more of her nectar.

"I can’t... Rohan..." she whispered.

Rohan held her dress tightly against her body, refusing to let go, drinking until she gave him everything.

She sagged against the bench behind her, knees weakening. Her hands landed on his shoulders, steadying herself as she swayed.

At last, Rohan granted her mercy. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, stood, and let her dress fall. Then he seized her mouth again.

She kissed him back with the kind of strength that made his cock throb harder and hotter. He kissed her hair, her face, her lips once more. He needed to be inside her.

Now. But before he could even decide on the safest place for that to happen, the clock rang midnight and they needed to return to their given rooms to prepare for tomorrow with their group members.