Chapter 11 TEASE

NARRATIVE POINT OF VIEW

“Viscount…may you help me rid of this?” Bearing the hunger of a beast, he slid fast and precise towards her, not letting a single drop of blood go to waste. She trembled, feeling the jarring nudge of his excavating tusk drawing deeper inside her.

He closed his eyes in pleasure. Completely blocked of tenability, Agatha held him face up. He paused for a moment with her finger in his mouth as he sucked it with all his might. His blood-red eyes glimmered as it meets her jade peeper.

He pushed her lightly once he realized his shameful measures. He stood up slowly turning himself back. He eyed the floor, cursing himself after losing his mind with a single drop of blood, he’s better than this but his exuding addiction to royal blood came forth, it has been years since he last tasted her kind after all. Despite that occurrence, he managed to keep his cool as he faced her once more.

She however, was far from letting go, she stood up, facing him bearing innocence. Her presumption was right, he had no means of killing her in an instant. She stepped closer. “Viscount Claude” she mumbled, making him halt “why…why do you need to balk yourself from voiding me?” she laid her hand atop his chest, staring deeply into his eyes.

“What is it that you want?” he asked showing intense restraint. Agatha squints her eyes and brought her lips outward “I want to bring you joy, Viscount” she said in a breathy voice. He swallowed. As her face kept on getting closer, he could see the uncanny resemblance he’s been fearing.

“stop with this nons-“ his words cut off as the labyrinth of his veiled emotion implodes. His heart beat grew intense as her soft lips intertwined with his. An explosion of passion, concurring warmth and fondness evoked as he aggressively grabs her by the side.

Agatha’s eyes widened, she was in for a ride but she's at fault for initiating it. The demon had woken up, and the pleasure of thy kiss was the reason. He was defeated by the same wench, only the younger one. All hell was let loose when he carried her at once, not letting their lips cut off as he passionately moved his. He’s drowned, mind covered in provoking thoughts he brought her upstairs.

“Emily” he whispered in between his breath when he pulled away, Agatha’s brows furrowed, he called another name in her presence. The reason were unknown to her but she knew that it might be crucial as he’s acting differently. He opened the door to his room, walked inside and threw her on the bed.

He sat atop of her, pinning both her wrist upon the soft cushion. “Emily…” he murmured with frustration “how dare you dismiss me?!” he yelled clenching his jaw, Agatha noticed the accumulation of tears in his eyes. She heaved, thinking of what to say. “Didn’t it come from your mouth? That you fancy me no matter what I am?!”

Agatha bit her tongue, she needed to say something but the context of what he’s saying is unrelated to her, she has got no clue. “You betrayed me, you… The only woman I-...” The Viscount leaned closer, “you wench!”

“Viscount…” Agatha got the courage to speak up, if manipulating him using his feelings and pretending to be someone else is the key, then so be it, she will do anything to get away. “I was afraid, what I did was unforgivable and I regret it deeply…”

“You regret it?!” he yelled making her flinch, perhaps she said something wrong. “You initiated the century long hunt when you left me, we were eradicated because of you!” a trail of tear poured beneath his glimmering eyes, he was shaking in anger and Agatha felt his grip getting tighter.

“I…I…” Agatha have no clue what to say, she’s conceiving information after information and she wasn’t sure what to use of it. Piecing it together in a situation like this is very unlikely, as she knows the danger of emotions bared by the Viscount.

“I will seize you in ways I’ve dreamed before…” he whispered angrily, “w-what?” Agatha asked. He brought his face adjourn her neck “I will screw you until you’ve no choice but to use your hands to walk” was the last words she heard before he began mauling her neck with aggressive kisses.

The scorching heat of the sun irritated him deeply, “its just a decorated rope for goodness’ sake, how long will it take him to cut it?” Damon thought with furrowing brows, he’s been itching to storm the hell out of there but it would be unethical to do so. He eyed Lord Baron in vex, “hypocrite” he uttered, not knowing that a gentleman standing next to him heard it until he chuckled.

Damon gazed at him “I agree, young master” it was Lord Castledow, bringing himself to a laugh. He ignored the words of the tacky man. He thoroughly dislikes sweaty old men trying their best to get close to him at every event he attends.

The roaring of the crowd blared the ears of the nobles whose watching by the sidelines. They exchanged looks and faked their claps. The porch is open, and Lord Baron had made a historic memento for the struggling merchants of Irvine. His smile etched deeply, making his eyes form in a jolly curve. He waved his hand as the continuous clicking of the cameras swayed. He posed together with the governor and the Duke, impressing the peasants who stood below them in pledge.

Just then, the roaring of the gigantic vessels floating behind them resonated, the engine tolled deeply beneath the sea making the fish below tremble. The sound of the waves crashing on the hull of The Venetian Ship emitted a perfect zest expressing its elegance as it stood bigger than the rest of the smaller yachts resting by its side. In a month, the ball will take place there and it will be the night the Viscount cannot wait for.