“Byron? Are you okay?” Amelia said as she sat astride her hips. She moaned when she felt Amelia’s wetness on her stomach.

“Look at me,” she repeated.

Once Byron regained her breath, and she was confident the vampire was gone, she took her hands from her face.

Amelia looked worried. Byron could understand why—she didn’t normally display this kind of uncertainty, especially during sex. But losing control was a first for her.

“Did you not like that?” Amelia asked.

Byron had to reassure her and regain some of the control she felt slipping away. “That was sensational. You are such a good girl at being bad.”

Amelia’s smile was back. “I love making you feel like that.”

Byron reached up and caressed Amelia’s cheek. “I can feel it. You are so wet. Aren’t you?”

Amelia smiled shyly and a blush rose to her cheeks. That was one thing Byron adored about Amelia—even after initiating and taking part in such an erotic act, there was still a part of the shy woman she met six months ago, who couldn’t ask for what she wanted.

Byron sat up and flipped Amelia on her back. She started to feel calmer, taking control back. She stroked her fingers down Amelia’s thigh.

“Tell me the truth or I won’t give you what you want,” Byron warned. “Are you wet?”

Amelia hesitated, and then whispered, “Soaking wet.”

Byron grinned. “Oh, you enjoyed sucking my cock that much? How naughty you are.”

It was Amelia’s turn to groan. Byron knew how much Amelia loved that kind of talk, since it was something that went against all propriety and the way in which she was brought up. Byron loved to play up to that.

“Tell me what you want now. You want me to touch you with my lips and my tongue?” Byron ran her tongue around Amelia’s lips teasingly.

“My fingers?” She traced Amelia’s cheekbone with her fingers.

“Or…?” She left the question hanging.

Amelia was breathing so heavily. “Or?”

Byron thrust her hips. “Say it.”

Amelia opened her legs further, and wrapped her arms around Byron’s neck. “I want you inside me.”

“My favourite place to be.”

As she began to make love with Amelia, she felt alive, in control, and safe again, but she couldn’t forget Amelia had the power to destroy her control. Love was making her lose control, and that was frightening.

Chapter Eight

Victorija was full of energy and excitement this morning. She was standing in front of her free-standing mirror getting dressed, her human dresser, Jacque, at her side.

She smoothed down her waistcoat, and popped her gold pocket watch into its place.

“Tie, Principe?” Jacque said.

He was a short balding man, who had been with the family for a long time, and Victorija was fond of him—as fond as she could be about anyone.

“No tie, Jacque.” She fixed her collar so it was sitting to her satisfaction. “I don’t think we need to be stuffy and old-fashioned. This is a new era.”