Total pages in book: 207
Estimated words: 196971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 985(@200wpm)___ 788(@250wpm)___ 657(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 985(@200wpm)___ 788(@250wpm)___ 657(@300wpm)
Rhapsody decided it was time to speak of her plans, but before anything else an apology was in order. "I sincerely apologize for my earlier conduct, milord. It was most unbecoming of me to receive you in such a manner."
His pet was now speaking as if she were delivering a eulogy. Charming as hell, the marquis thought, and for some reason, his cock also found it interesting enough to start swelling behind his pants. What. The. Fuck?
"If you would care to instruct me on how you wish to be welcomed..."
Mihail was now cussing up a storm in his mind. This girl would be the death of him, with the way she carelessly threw out the most suggestive words in his presence. How did he wish to be welcomed? What if he were to tell her he wanted her to welcome him by flipping her skirts up and spreading her legs wide open for his cock? Would she truly do so?
Rhapsody stopped speaking when she noticed her Master looking suddenly savagely...ravenous. "Is everything alright, Master?"
Mihail started swearing in a dozen languages.
Sex had never been more than a physiological activity for him, and just as he consumed blood only when his body required repleneshing, he had fucked only when his cock was in need for release. But where his pet was concerned, nothing was obviously normal. He only had to hear her call him Master, and he found himself craving for the feel of her like he had been starving for it for centuries.
Rhapsody was starting to worry about her Master's condition. He would look in severe pain at one moment and furious enough to throttle someone the next. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
Fuck. There she fucking went again, asking so many fucking questions that only had images lurid as fuck flooding his mind. And in all those fucking images, his pet was fucking naked, moaning - nay, she was fucking pleading, begging him to do all sorts of fucking dirty, lewd things—-
Mihail breathed hard, but it was no use.
Mother of Hell, how he wanted her covered with his cum. How he wanted her to be his, and if any other man—-
The marquis stiffened, his mind finally recalling what it had forgotten.
Rhapsody nearly stumbled back when the marquis' gaze snapped back to her without warning, and this time his green eyes were harsh with anger.
"You were here with another man earlier," the marquis asked coldly. "Were you not?"
Rhapsody blinked in surprise. "I was, and..." She picked her skirts up. "I must show you something, Master."
Mihail was incredulously when his pet suddenly spun around and ran away. He cursed under his breath even when he went after her. She was running in the directions towards the woods, and he had no fucking idea why.
His pet suddenly came into a stop. "Here, Master."
And indeed, the scent he had detected earlier was once again tainting the air around her, and when he reached his pet, she immediately gestured towards the ground—-
His gaze followed where she was pointing.
Shit.
The marquis' head began to pound.
What the fuck was it with his pet that she kept stumbling over dead bodies?
Chapter Two
An Original in the eyes of Society was one that pushed the boundaries without being disgracefully crass and unenchantingly self-righteous. And for the past three years, Lady Eleanor Tilney had worked exceptionally hard to ensure that her beloved school remain an Original type of establishment.
In the past, Legacy pets were the only type of pet considered acceptable by the oldest and most prominent vampire families. First Made pets were either ignored outright or viewed with genteel distaste. All that had changed, however, when Eleanor - a former First Made pet herself and now wife to the Viscount of Luncia - had bought a ten-acred property in Amstel Square and converted the Baroque-styled estate into what was now known as The Progressive Academy of Chalys.
Through means both fair and foul, she had succeeded in reversing Society's opinion of her students, and the graduates of her school were now sought after by the kingdom's wealthiest vampires. All of this was set to change, however, if word was to spread about one of their employees being murdered...in their very own backyard!
A knock sounded on the door, and Eleanor quickly pasted a smile on her face and clasped her hands over her skirts. A moment later, the footman allowed in the visitor she had been both expecting and dreading.
The Marquis of Sangre strode inside her office, and though the viscountess had already known what to expect, he still appeared much, much larger than life, and his handsome looks even more mesmerizing than one could even imagine. But what truly took her breath away was how the marquis - despite looking at least a decade younger than her forty years - was actually almost a thousand years old.