Bab 67: -
"I—" he seemed startled for a second, then turned his gaze forward, tongue flicking out to part drying lips. "You seemed to like it," his voice dropped an octave or two, deepened into a scratchy growl. An innocent little pout. "Your heart was racing. I heard it hammering away in the dark like prey, like you wanted it. Beating faster when I said your name. Thought you were just listening." Those eyes slid to her then, slow, steady, almost too damn fucking confident. "But just in case, I decided to put on a show."
Her body clenched then, viciously throbbing between her legs. "You should have stopped—"
He shrugged, oddly naughty, but ears just as red. "I was being quiet."
"Quiet," Rue answered hotly. "Is not your shirt in your mouth while you come."
"So you were watching," his eyes sparkled then, big enough to swallow her whole. "Come join me next time," he whispered, a plea whiney in his throat. His eyes were pools to his soul. "Please." And God she'd be lying if she said her breath didn't suck loud into her throat, her body begging for him like she wanted air deep in her lungs, self-control burning all up.
"And I'm here to figure out how the fuck does a guide, guide without a dick in his hole," Altair announced, distracting her from Halcyon, who seemed to dissolve into his seat, palm pressed to his lip as if actually a little embarrassed. She leapt at the opportunity to turn to look at him with a scowl. "Right Val?"
The oddly silent eros simply nodded, taking a seat behind her, veins twisting up long fingers that tapped oddly. He was quiet, too quiet, and it had a shiver running up her throat. "I just wanted to see you Rue," Valentino breathed, voice all velvety and smooth, caramel sin. "Desperately."
Altair laughed. "He's been talking about you all morning, asking stupid, weird questions."
"What kind of questions?" Rue asked.
"Ones about detachable dicks," Valentino growled. "And whether or not they're real." His chuckle was dry, and too fucking sinful, infused with the drench of his tortured affection for her. "And whether or not if I suck them hard enough, they'll pop free."
Halcyon snorted at that. "He's crazy."
Altair shrugged. "He's just really horny, as usual."
That had a strange splash rushing up her, a rippling heat that had her throat closing up, and her body pooling with a gush of slick. Desire and horror began twisting up her spine. Rue sucked in a tight breath, disturbed by the press of three too fucking eligible Alphas in her personal space. It was odd that she was wavering, that her body was dripping, that her skin steamed wet and strange. And worst still, that Valentino seemed obsessed with the contents of her sick dream.
Fuck.
Thankfully, class began then the professor launching into theory that Halcyon drank up quickly without another salacious remark. And that had Altair falling into slumber, cheeks puffy in the encase of his crossed arms. It was only Valentino that remained staring hard into the back of her head as she penned down notes, anxiety tripling with each second.
What did he know? She nibbled at her nails, unable to stop the worry from growing in her chest.
"Bad dream?" His whisper was soft, too soft for Halcyon, but loud enough for her. There was a strange tone of accusation in Valentino's throat, his eyes sliding up and down her, all serpentine as it dragged over her neck. She stiffened at his question, almost jumping out of her skin. God, she wanted to run.
"Maybe." Ice ran up her spine, oddly hot, oddly cold. Her insides churned, an awful gut-wrenching burn starting from her belly. The steady wail of doom soaring up her throat. He knew something, and she didn't want her mind stretching towards the truth. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
"I dreamt of you," he continued, and her eyes slid to Altair who continued to doze and Halcyon who was engrossed with the lesson, pen between juicy lip, teeth biting down on the head. "With your detachable cock in my mouth."
"Of course you did," she leaned down to write, but inside she was losing her mind.
"And then you showed me something," Valentino murmured. "Something interesting, something very small." Her body seemed to erupt then, a stampede in her chest, cold sweat forming over skin. She slammed her book shut. The technology turning dark, rage flooding her along with a horrifying wash of fear.
"It's just a fucking dream," she stated dryly, softly. "I don't want to listen to your sick, perverted fantasies."
"And yet I've got you mad," Valentino pressed. "Like a little calico cat hissing with its tail up." His blue eyes were sharp on her, growing almost frosty. And her mind spun to his choices, to his words. Calicos were almost always female. Her fingers pressed tight to the edge of her seat.
"Maybe I'm just tired of such talk."
"Maybe," he agreed, "maybe you've always wanted something sweeter from me. Presents, gifts." She swallowed nervous at his words, turning slightly to look at him.
"Maybe I want flowers," she tested, jaw clenched tight.
"I'll get them for you," he nodded. "And softer things." Her eyes narrowed at his words, knuckles growing white. "You're so easy to read sometimes Rue," he answered softly, her body trembled then. "I'd give you everything, even the things you don't know you need."
There was a rush then, a crest of pleasure that ran up from her cunt and burned in her throat. A pulse of her pussy, fluttering and clenching around wetness. Rue swayed on her feet, felt a trickle of honeyed slick slip from the cup, overflowing gooey down her thighs. Fuck!
She turned to look Valentino in the eye then, eyes narrowed, expression cold. "Don't fuck with me." But inside she trembled like a leaf in the wind.
"Rue?" Halcyon blinked at her, pink on his cheeks but his eyes were predator dark. "You good?" His nose began sniffing, and her panic spiked, adrenaline rushing. Slick continued spilling down her skin, dribbling upon the seat. Surely, they'd taste it in the air, her pheromones dripping from her like candy.
"Bathroom," she stated, tearing herself from the galaxy of his soul-sucking eyes. "Don't follow me."
"Be quick," Halcyon nodded, eyes on her phone left on the table as if it were evidence that she wouldn't slip away. She stumbled out of the theatre without looking back, fingers wedged into her jeans, breathing hard and almost waddling.
Rue stopped outside then, back against the wall at a quiet corner where she was sure would allow her the peace of solitude. She pressed a hand to her chest and inhaled, then another to her forehead. She was warm, almost feverish, a little dizzy, gushing a bit too much slick. Was this the beginning of a Heat?
Fuck.
Her gasp caught in her throat, desperation clawing. It was too fucking fast, too soon. Her fingers jostled for the spray bottle of scent blockers, which she used all over her thighs. She didn't have time, didn't have a fucking poseidon waiting to save her from death. It'd take her, and she'd start fucking anything with legs, begging for cum—
"What secret are you hiding?"
Valentino's voice echoed like a curse by her side, and she turned to watch him step closer, languid, tall and looking all stormy. His eyes were hard, brows set, eyes steely but waiting. He'd followed her like a goddamn stalker.
Rue was thankful then that she'd just sprayed another round of blockers over her scent gland. Thankful, that he'd caught her after her panic, and she could smooth back her hair and scoff as if she were merely sweaty.
"What are you talking about?" she let out a chuckle, there was a tornado in her, one that ravaged her soul. Her inner thighs were smeared with her slick, and if he were anything like Dante it wouldn't take much for him to learn of her truth. "I'm just tired. Go back and sit down, let me get some fresh air alone."
"You don't feel well?" his eyes roamed her face, searched her features. And she flinched back, disturbed by his scrutiny as if he'd discover more the longer he stared at her, distracted by the beauty of his face, hewn jaw and godly features. A little mole at the bottom of his right eye. "You are a little pink. Should we go see a doctor?"
"I'm just overwhelmed by education."
"You're feverish," his hands reached towards her head, and she slapped it down. The contact was electrifying, a dart of heat that warmed her chest and had her spilling more down her thighs. Her clit tingled, needy and wanting.
"I'll be fine, merely a cold—"
"Is it because…Of me?" he asked, head tilted carefully.
Her scowl deepened. "You? It's just the goddamn flu—"
"The ring lets me walk your dreams," he interrupted her then, leaning against the wall, nonchalant and smile all boxy. His motives finally splayed out like a hand of cards. "The gem contains my essence, the purest of an eros' semen during his transformation." She forced a smile, heart thundering, breath catching in her throat. His expression grew serious. "We shared a dream last night. Something intimate."
She scoffed, tongue to cheek. He'd set her up. Of course he did. "What you dream of is none of my concern." She looked away then, hands in her pockets. "I'm sick, I don't want to talk." He ignored her, continuing his speech that had her heartrate accelerating and her gut churning.
"You wouldn't have dreamt of me if you weren't mine. You'd see nothing, and I wouldn't have seen you," he continued, leaned against the wall beside her as if the contents of their conversation were nothing. "But I did, so you are." There was a strange look in his eyes and the panic that spiked in her felt too great. "You said your dick was fake, silicone. You told me I was an idiot. Your idiot." His eyes were shy then, a smile at the corner of his lips. "Did you always think of me as yours?"
"I need a dick guard from assholes like you," she snorted out, then corrected herself, sweat trickling down her neck. She was panicking and revealing herself, she turned away from him, forcing a laugh. "It's just a fucking dream, Val. Forget it."
"Souls are honest in dreams made by eros, we're incubus after all." He came closer, stood taller, shadowed her features. The panic burned in her throat, but along with it was a strange thundering pulse between her legs. A sweaty burn that had the urge to purr rippling from her throat. "It was me baring myself to you, and you to me." His eyes crinkled then, wet, raw, needing. "I've always wanted you."
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone