* * *

Byron waited as patiently as she could in the ballroom downstairs while Amelia went up to their bedroom to get undressed and ready whatever she had planned. Just when her patience was ready to break, one of the staff brought her a note. It was Amelia asking her to meet her upstairs, and also one mysterious line: Leave your uniform on.

She sped upstairs without saying her goodbyes. There was more than enough time tomorrow to thank everyone for coming. Now she just needed to be with her wife. Byron hadn’t spent last night with Amelia for tradition’s sake, and she was hungry for Amelia’s blood and her body.

Byron’s heart was beating as if she was still alive with the anticipation of touching her Amelia. She arrived at the bedroom door, knocked, and then walked in and found the room bathed in only candlelight.

Her breath caught when she saw Amelia kneeling beside the bed, head down, naked, wearing ankle and wrist restraints. She had to stop herself from groaning out loud, because that wouldn’t fit the atmosphere.

Amelia loved her dominance and light bondage play, and her request that Byron should keep her uniform on was part of that. She walked into the room and shut and locked the door. She noticed the leg restraints had a spreader bar between, keeping Amelia’s legs open, and a soft corded rope waited on the bed.

She stood over Amelia and whispered, “I love you.”

Amelia didn’t look up but said, “I’m yours to serve, Principe.”

Byron’s mouth watered for Amelia’s blood, and her sex was wet for her body. She craved Amelia, not just for what her body could give her, but also for her heart and how much she understood her needs and, even better, shared them.

She stroked Amelia’s hair and said, “Look up at me.”

Amelia did look, and her eyes were full of want. Byron was perfectly aware how much Amelia needed this side of their life as much as she did.

Byron picked up the rope and said, “Do you consent?”

“Yes,” Amelia said in a breathy voice.

“Hands up then.”

Amelia did as asked, and Byron slipped the rope through the metal loops on the wrist restraints. Now, holding the rope in her hands, she could control Amelia’s movements.

She pulled the rope and forced Amelia’s face close to her crotch. Byron undid her belt slowly and let it hang loose. She knew how much that would tantalize Amelia.

Byron had worn a strap-on since she became a born vampire. It had suited her to pass as a man in the days when women weren’t supposed to run businesses, far less banking groups. Then when female bosses became more acceptable, she came out as a woman, but who she was inside was still the person who identified with those masculine parts of herself.

Her strap-on was part of her, and Byron was eternally grateful that Amelia loved it just as much. Amelia touched her strap-on through her uniform trousers, then kissed her and fondled it.