Chapter 18
Previously: The Rose of Whitby – Chapter 17
Gregory hesitates for a moment- he knows girls, he’s been with girls before, but not any that are as amazing as her- she’s so complex and she always has so much going on, he doesn’t always understand her. But he likes it when she’s determined, confident- just not when she then gets mad at him.
But really, what else could she want? So he leans down and kisses her. And it feels so good that he kisses her deeper, after all, he’s got practise, and he wants to show her how much fun it is.
And it’s lots of fun, she doesn’t pull back, it’s him who eventually has to because he runs out of breath, only to blush at seeing the look she’s giving him and hearing her whisper again: “Three is the magical number, remember?”
So he kisses her again, still breathless and a bit overwhelmed with her, the feeling of her body in his arms, and he’s a knight now and he gets to kiss the princess, and this is the best!
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It wasn’t what Darcy meant, actually, and she lets him know… after the kiss because yes, this is nice, his taste on her lips fresh but… not deep enough! Seeing the fangs glint underneath her lips, he finally clues in and looks surprised, but doesn’t mind her biting him. After all, he says, he doesn’t mind cutting himself for her, so this can’t be worse than that.
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And is it ever not! He was riled up from the kissing and getting to hold a girl so close before but the feeling her bite gives him, fuck, actually… and that’s the last semi-coherent thought he has before her bite makes his body surge with ecstasy.
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Not that she realises why he grunts and shudders as she wraps her arms tightly around him because she very nearly doesn’t care. Yes! Hers! Finally! There is no comparison, this is nothing like the cheated food or the goblets he gave her, this is so much more, so much better. This is life! This is fulfillment! Yes, her blood, her lover’s blood, all hers, her man. Oh yes, this is love! This deep sense of possession, of having him, this is bliss. No wonder everybody wants it. Love is amazing!
She only pulls her fangs back when he groans slightly in her arms. Right, there was something she read, she’s not meant to leave marks. Kissing his neck, having to fight not to sink her fangs right back into him, she smiles, yes, that worked. The punctures are healed over. She can kiss it better. With a giggle she looks at him, oh, isn’t he handsome with that slight pallor to him, it’s a sign of his love for her, how much he’s willing to give her and he clearly agrees, slurs his words when he says he might not want to share this with anybody else.
No, of course not! He’s hers! The thought of some harlot vampire getting at her blood, her man, makes her hiss and her hands on him grow tight before she soothes. No, of course he does not have to share. Feeling a bit drunk on his blood and his smell she keeps holding him where he’s heavy in her arms. Keeps telling him he’s hers, didn’t she seal it, didn’t she give him so much already? He’ll stay with her, yes?
Yes, yes, he will. She offers him a romantic walk through the maze and as she gets a little bit further from him her shyness returns slightly, fingers brushing against his rather than taking his hand. What was that heady feeling when she drank from him? Well, it surely must be love so it’s alright feeling a bit confused now. Finally, with a blush, she asks her knight if he would not take her hand to help his lady over the treacherous ground.
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Guiding her to a bench deep in the maze, he sits down with her, pallor slowly vanishing, he did feel a tiny bit faint there, but what does he have his demon healing for and wow, a girl as amazing as her really loves him. This is so awesome. Then he notices her emotions, something is up. She blushes and tells him that his empathy is scary, she feels so exposed but, well, she was just thinking. He really doesn’t have to be worried around her, he can be her demon. Hesitating again, Arthur always reacts so badly, but this is not Arthur, this is his lady and she seems so sincere he turns. Again is delighted when she squeals and gets him to lay his head in her lap so she can pet him.
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Yes, he’s so much less scary to her like this, humans are bad, even him, but like this, oh yes, all hers, so much to smell. She leans down to inhale a bit more, kisses his snout, blushes because there is that urge again and it must show. His tact is even worse in this form so he asks if she finds him attractive now. Where are his manners?! Well, she knew he didn’t really have any, but does he have to ask like that?! She’s blushing to the tips of her ears and refuses to say anything but when he tries to make her feel less embarrassed by instead stating that he didn’t pursue any girls in town, and that despite having plenty of opportunities, she suddenly feels her claws spring out and pulls her fingers away.
Oh, yes, this must be love, all the books talk about jealousy and she snarls at the thought of any harlot getting at her man. Telling him she will have to show any girls who he belongs to if they try anything she hardly notices her tone and he quickly agrees that yes, yes, he’s hers now! She still decides she has to remind him, too, and starts kissing him, although that gets interrupted because love or not, she was not prepared for causing that reaction in a demon and faints at spotting that from the corner of her eyes.
Coming back to, he has changed position, but really, she is not willing to think too closely about what just happened, only one way to distract her before her thoughts run wild, right back to kissing. Lack of tact showing again, combined with her actually enjoying this more than the human kiss, his hands start wandering and that’s where she draws the line only to be floored by his renewed complete lack of tact, or shame when he pouts that it’s difficult, it’s been so long since the last time he got any sex.
How can he just say it like that?! Manners? Forget it, this is far beyond manners! But, uh, isn’t that her man? She’s read about wifely duties but they’re not married but if he doesn’t marry her nobody will. Is this somehow her responsibility? She… can’t. Doesn’t want to? Is that it? She’s confused now. What should she do? A man, worse, her man, just told her something like that but… but she really can’t possibly do anything. But ignoring a man’s needs makes one a bad woman, doesn’t it? Social rules are there to make her a better woman but then she shouldn’t have ever accepted a gift from him in the first place. No, wait, you only shouldn’t accept gifts to not falsely raise a man’s hopes. But, she went a lot further than raising hopes. Wait, or were those hopes actually about, well, this?
Now completely unsure what to do she gives him a helpless look. He likes it… and well, her bite did get him off so hey, he can solve his issue here, can’t he? When she hears what her bite does she blinks and blushes but she really liked biting him so, it’s just love? Right? She’s not making herself a harlot? A good woman loves her man and does her duties towards his needs.
Thoughts of propriety are forgotten the moment her fangs find their target underneath his fur. Oh god, this is even better! She didn’t think there could be improvement to tasting her lover’s blood but her demon lover’s blood makes the previous experience seem stale. This is like life and strength itself burning in her mouth and from there into every corner of her body, it crackles like electricity and hums like a beautiful long note, like the deepest tones of an orchestra recording that you feel more than you hear it. All of that and so much more. Yes, this must be love if they can make each other feel so good!
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Arthur isn’t quite sure what the others are up to, but he’s distracted, anyway. Now that they have the castle to themselves again, he can relax a bit. And learning magic, he finds, is much more fun when you can actually make things happen. He’s not even entirely terrible at it anymore! Also, the castle always has more books for him to read, not just about magic. He keeps learning about etiquette and such, too.
So far, they’ve not had to interact in person with any real nobility, but he knows that can’t last- and the knight from the Order of Galahad was bad enough.
One day, he’ll have to say the right things and act the right way with people who grew up learning these things and do them every day, and not give away that he’s just a low-class imposter.
The farther that day is away, the happier he’ll be. Just the letter-writing that apparently comes along with being a noble is exhausting enough.
At least, while Gregory is off doing who-knows-what knightly things now, patrolling the town and all, and is spending less time with Arthur than ever before, he’s starting to feel a bit more comfortable with Darcy.
She’s not quite as formal and distant anymore, so he can talk to her more like a normal person- no more weird fan-signalling. And she’s okay talking about her powers and being a dhampir without freaking out now. He finds that a great relief.