Sweet Like Poison...(Mature Paranormal Romance 18+)

Chapter Twenty

After having sat in Pharell's chambers, awaiting the man's presence for long minutes in order to properly thank him, I finally resolve to taking my leave. Commotion outside the room, the heavy thud of bodies slamming into walls, is the force that has me sprinting past his doors.

There, stands Pharell in all his might, gripping Dario by the collar, hissing venomously. Scarlet droplets lace parts of his garment, coat the front of his shirt, the sight of them, sending icy trails shooting up my spine. What could he have possibly done? Whom did he execute, because those spatters were not birthed from simple torture.

"You fancy her, then go off sleeping with another!"
"S...sire it is not what you think!"
In a heartbeat, Pharell's back is now against wall, Dario attempting to pin him firmly.
Heavens, what is this now? And at such a time as this? It is only minutes past three in the morning.

My eyes strain to make out blurry images, and I find myself squinting. Again, Dario is against wall, as Pharell's irises start to gleam.
"You love her, do you not? I see how you spear glances in her direction, and then, in the nights, while she is fast asleep, you are drowning in another female's skirts? Pick your choice, Dario!"

"Pharell?"
"Stay out of it, Zenaida," he now speaks with mastered coolness, turning his head to face me, then moving to glare back at Dario.
"Pharell, I just..."
"Back into my chambers, Zenaida," he cuts my speech, employing a tone colder than death itself.

The heavens are fully aware, that I want to stand my ground, and not lift a muscle, but my brain, my heart, my feet, all have a different agenda, and ultimately, I find myself gliding back into his room. I shut the wooden barriers behind me, press an ear against them, listen intently.
"Sire, sire listen to me. I love her, but only as a man would his sister, I swear on immortality."

Eery silence, pungent quietness on the other end.

"Dario, you are the man I consider a brother, even without the presence of a blood bond. Should you deceive me on the matter, toy with the confidence I have chosen to place in you, destruction will reign, you have my word."
"Yè, sire."

I sigh heavily, just blow out a long breath, then proceed towards the softness of his bed, sitting in silence. He walks into the room, slides doors shut, leans against them, and faces my direction. I see the rage, feel the fury radiating from where he is stood, and into the atmosphere surrounding us.

"Why, Pharell?" Calmly, I inquire, choosing to tread carefully with the now volatile man.
Steel eyes remain fixated on coffee brown for long seconds, to the point I am fully convinced he won't respond to my rhetoric.
"Why what?"

There he goes, questioning my question, raising an inquiry from my inquiry. Still, I choose peace over violence. After all, gentle answers quieten arguments, soften spiked nerves, calm raging spirits.
"Why did you attack Dario, of a people?"
His jaws tick, his lips remain pursed, forming a thin line.

"Pharell..."
"You want to know the reasons behind my actions? Graciously, I shall tell you. I thought that the man had a liking for you, saw him in the arms of another, earlier this eve, when you'd been curled up in my arms, trembling. I needed to question him. I knew you were infatuated with the man."

I scoff, rolling eyes.
"I thought you had the ability to read minds, mine at the very least."
"You told me not to, so I decided I shouldn't anymore."
I watch him, keenly observe, intently listen to his speech, stifling the urge to smile.
"Pharell, were you envious of the man?"

He visibly stiffens, regaining his composure just as fast as he'd lost touch with it.
"I was merely looking out for you. Do not get ahead of yourself."
"Fine. I will not, master. See, I wanted to tell you in simple words, that I have an eye for another, not Dario."
"You don't say."

And the anger is crystal clear on his face, just as it is, in his words. He remains pressed against the doors, arms behind his back so casually.
"As a matter of fact, I do say. Also, you have blood on the front of your shirt, a lot of crimson taking the place of white. How should I get that off?"

In response, he reaches for the collar of his shirt, pulls on it, and tosses the cotton clothe to the side. I fight to keep a neutral face, I have seen him half naked numerous times, dear grace.
"Seth is his name. You know him?"
"I do. I also know that the room scents of your arousal, and Seth, has little to do with it."
Well played, I must admit that much.

"You speak with such forwardness, not baring in mind, that you are an engaged man."
The words cause a smile to tag on his lips, an actual smile, an alluring one, that stirs certain emotions in the pits of my stomach.
The man pushes himself off doors, makes slow, purposeful steps in my direction, with me simply gazing at him.

I watch him watch me, straining to keep my mask of confidence intact.
"I am an engaged man, aren't I? But, could my betrothed also be my soulmate? I wonder."
My eyes grow slightly wider at the words that tumble so effortlessly down his tongue.

I crane my neck at the towering figure of the man now stood right before me, my throat growing perched, drying at the sight of his smile still in place.
"You killed someone, Pharell."
"I did. Two persons, actually. Hardly touched them, but still."
His fingers glide against the flesh of my temple, pushing hairs behind my ear, and trailing lower to my jaw.

"They hurt you, I reciprocated the gesture, returned the favor with interest. And I will do it again if I have to. I made a vow, told you that you'd stay protected in this realm, did I not?"
My mouth gapes open, but no words form.
He squats before me, leans in, so that now, his face is only a breathe away.

"They summoned Nazà. I only acted in retaliation, on your behalf, Zenaida."
And I completely understand that, twisted as it may sound. Maybe, just maybe, I would have done a similar thing for him, or Dario.
"You have no idea how bad I want to kiss your lips, Zenaida."

At the sound of those words, all thoughts of treading on unholy grounds, the awareness of growing infatuated with a man betrothed to a woman I could never become, dissipate.

I wrap arms around his neck, capture his mouth in mine sensually, kissing, letting him taste, moaning, letting him devour. He cups the back of my head, deepening the kiss, allowing our lips mould into, and move in harmonic sync.

Gradually, he pushes me against the silk sheets, hovers only meters above me, kneels between my spreadout thighs, intertwining our fingers, and resting our attached palms onto the bed, on the left and right sides of my head. Oh, grace, this is wrong, against all what I stand for, but my goodness, why does it seem so right?

He draws away from the kiss, moves to the skin of my neck, pressing light kisses from jaws, down to the junction connecting my neck to my shoulder. Then, I feel it, the sensations birthed from elongated fangs grazing my neck, the crazing sensations that hinder my brain's ability to reason rationally.

Again, with palms now tenderly pinning my wrists above my head, the man brings his lips passionately down on mine, exploring with tongue, and causing a whirlwind of emotions swirl and override my system. He pulls away from the kiss, leans into my ear, whispers softly.

"Zenaida, once I get off this bed, do well to leave, and do not look behind."
My eyes snap open to look into his pitch-blackness ones.
"Pharell..."
He leaves no room for debate, only claims my lips, effectively silencing my protests.

I will regret this in the morning, but now, I let myself ravish, let myself take, let myself satisfy selfish pleasures.
And as soon as he lifts himself off the bed, he leaves behind only a gust of wind, now taking the position atop his chaise, in the furthest corner of his chambers.

He shuts his eyes gently, leans into the seat, spreading arms against the upper edge of the seat in muteness. In reluctant quietness, I let myself heed to his instructions, gliding towards, and past the front doors. Ah yes, I disgracefully let myself fall, and I ravished every second of it...

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