Vladimir was sitting on the side of his bed, his amber-colored eyes locked onto Emereah.She stood in front of him, her angular body wrapped in a golden silk gown that flashed in the firefight. The clingy material seemed to mold over every inch of her frame, outlining her as a possession already unwrapped and already owned.Her hair fell in waves of deep red down her back, and her pale blue eyes—too pale now, almost glass-like—blinked slowly, as if reading his very breath.“Emereah,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “we are married now. You are my Luna. Then serve me now… as your husband.”A pause.Then, in quiet horror, she moved. She came down on her knees, the movement slow, smooth, practiced. Her hands lay upon his knees—delicate, poised. Her fingers wrapped in the folds of his trousers, and she bent her head the slightest bit towards him.There was sensuality in her attitude.But not a soul.Vladimir let out his breath, shivering down to his toes. Victory swept over him, a dark
閱讀更多
