The Vampire's Court

Chapter 49-Husband and Wife

As soon as they stepped into the room, Dimitri smoothly took Seraphine's bags from her hands, setting them down with a deliberate care that belied the heated undercurrent between them. His gaze never left hers, eyes gleaming with a dark, playful intent.

"Here we are, iubirea mea," he murmured, the Romanian pet name rolling off his tongue like a caress. "Your castle for the night. Fit for a queen, but missing one little thing..."

Seraphine raised an eyebrow, already anticipating the flirtatious remark that would follow. "And what might that be?"

Dimitri's smile widened, dangerously charming. "The king to share it with."

She shook her head, though she couldn't suppress the small smile that tugged at her lips. "Ever the charmer, Dimitri."

"Oh, I'm just getting started, draga mea," he replied, the endearment slipping from his lips with an ease that sent a shiver down her spine. As he moved closer, his voice dropped to a husky whisper, filled with a dangerous mix of sincerity and seduction. "I couldn't help but wonder, though... did you happen to pack that little lingerie set I bought you? The black one with the lace?"

Seraphine's cheeks flushed at his boldness, but she quickly recovered, her tone sharp with a hint of teasing. "My unmentionables are none of your concern, Dimitri."

"Oh, but they are, iubirea," he countered smoothly, his eyes darkening with mischief. "They're very much my concern. After all, as your husband, it's my duty to ensure you're... properly dressed for bed."

She scoffed, though the heat in her cheeks betrayed her. "You're incorrigible."

"And you, my dear wife, are irresistible," he shot back, his voice soft but laced with the kind of confidence that made her heart race. "But that's a topic for later, I think."

Seraphine tried to busy herself by light unpacking some of her things, hoping to create some distance between them, but Dimitri wasn't having it. He took his time removing his coat, his movements slow and deliberate, knowing full well that she was watching. The fabric slid off his shoulders with a fluid grace, revealing the perfectly tailored linen shirt and waistcoat beneath that clung to his muscular frame. He made a show of folding the coat, draping it casually over a chair, his every action designed to draw her attention.

He turned back to her, his expression one of lazy satisfaction, as if he had already won whatever game they were playing. "Careful, Sera," he teased, his voice like velvet, "you keep looking at me like that, and I might start thinking you want something."

Her retort was on the tip of her tongue, but it faltered as he moved toward the chaise lounge, his gaze locked onto hers with a predatory intensity. He set Stella down, allowing the kitten to wander and explore the room, but his focus remained solely on Seraphine. He stretched out on the chaise, the picture of relaxed elegance, but there was nothing relaxed about the way he was watching her—like a cat watching a bird, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

Seraphine felt the air grow thick with tension, the space between them charged with an unspoken challenge. He was so confident, so sure of himself, so certain that he could seduce her with a few well-placed words and a smoldering gaze. The arrogance in his expression was infuriating—and infuriatingly attractive.

"So confident, aren't you?" she finally said, her voice steady but edged with annoyance. "You really think I'm just going to fold, just like that?"

Dimitri chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent a thrill through her. "Oh, I don't think, iubirea mea," he replied, his voice low and dangerously alluring. "I know."

Her eyes narrowed, her irritation bubbling to the surface. "You're awfully full of yourself."

"And you're awfully hard to resist," he countered, the words slipping from his lips like a dark promise. "But that's what makes this so much fun."