Promised in Blood (Broken Bloodlines Book 2)
Promised in Blood: Chapter 8

As I expected he would be, President Ollenshaw is waiting outside my office when I arrive. He taps his foot impatiently while muttering something under his breath, but upon seeing me, he offers a tight smile and pushes his wire-rimmed spectacles up his nose.

“Alexandros.” He says my name almost apologetically. “I heard reports of …” He clears his throat.

“A fire?” I offer.

He nods, seemingly grateful to have been saved from his temporary discomfort. Jerome Ollenshaw might be the president of Montridge, but he is merely a figurehead—a fact of which he is acutely aware. An unremarkable man in his late fifties, if only in appearance, is a much easier sell to the humans and their families than a wolf with a temper as fragile as his ego or a six-foot-eight demon whose eyes glow red when he gets pissed—as were the case with the previous two deans of Montridge.

“I wouldn’t bother you with such matters. Only … People will talk, Alexandros. Uncontained fires on campus grounds are not permitted. Not since the incident in the woods.” He winces as though troubled by the memory, but I suspect he is giving me a warning of sorts. At least as close as he will ever come to censure when it comes to me. Vampires were responsible for that particular fiasco too.

With a curt nod of acknowledgment, I remove the key from my jacket pocket and unlock the door. The smell of smoke still lingers, clinging to the scorched books and charred wooden shelves. My desk remains untouched by the flames, sitting stoically in the center of the room as it always has.

Jerome shuffles into the room behind me. “Is this something I need to worry about?”

I stoop to pick a book up from the floor and run my fingertips over the blackened leather binding. An unexpected knot of regret unfurls in my chest. The books themselves held no particular value to me, but this is a reminder of what I did. Of the danger I put her in.

Jerome clears his throat once more, and I shake my head. “There is nothing to be concerned about. I simply had a visit from an old fire demon acquaintance of mine.”

“Did you have some kind of altercation?” His tone is tinged with suspicion.

My eyes dart to the deep fingernail scratches on my desk, the ones made by my own hands when I was inside her. The beast inside me flickers to life with a low growl when I recall how good it felt to finally claim her. My blood heats at the memory, most of it hurtling toward my cock as the recollection—her taste, her scent, her submission—almost overwhelms me.

“No.” There is a crack in my voice, and I have no doubt he hears it.

He steps toward my desk and runs his forefinger over one of the deep grooves in the wood. “It was a pleasant visit, then?” He fails to suppress a chuckle.

I twist my neck from side to side and draw in a breath, trying to rid my mind of the images of her sitting on my lap while I fed from her and fucked her. But they are burned into my consciousness for eternity and refuse to budge. My fangs protract, and I unconsciously flick my tongue over the tips. I want to sink inside her right now. Need to feel her skin on mine. I burn to taste her, have both her blood and her cum coating my tongue.

“Alexandros.” Jerome’s voice cuts through my inner thoughts, and I realize he has been talking to me.

I give him my full attention, managing to push thoughts of Ophelia to the side, but I am unable to rid myself of them entirely. “Apologies, Jerome. I was distracted. You were saying?”

His gray eyes twinkle with amusement. “I was asking if you enjoyed your friend’s visit, but I guess from your distracted state and the mess in your office that it either went very well or terribly. Which is it? I have known a fire demon or two in my time.”

My eyes narrow. I have known Jerome for forty years, ever since I personally chose him to take over from his predecessor, but we have barely spoken two words that were not directly related to the curriculum during that entire time. And now is not the time to start bonding over sexual conquests. I want him out of here so that I can focus on thoughts of Ophelia without having to endure his small talk. “It was pleasant enough. But I will ensure this mess is taken care of, and I can assure you that this will not happen again.”

He nods, his lips pressed together in a thin line now as he slips back into president mode. “I appreciate that, Alexandros.” He places his hand over his heart. “I know that your family built this institution, and it is a great honor to be the president of this fine university. But that doesn’t mean I can play favorites. I have parents and the student body and the school board to answer to.”

“I am aware of that, Jerome.”

“Of course you are. I’m sure it’s no different from the days when you held my esteemed title.” He raises his eyebrows, clearly trying to remain friendly, but there is an edge to his tone now that always creeps in when he is reminded of the fact that I once held his position. The role was undesirable to me then and equally so now, and I stepped down after two short years. However, he is well aware I could take it back if I so chose, and that never fails to make him feel threatened in my presence.

“You are doing a fair job, Jerome. There will be no more incidents like the one which occurred last night.”

He raises his hand like he is going to clap me on the back, but he quickly drops it again, having wisely thought better of it. “I will leave you to deal with this mess. Good day, Professor.”

I give him a curt nod. “Good day, Dr. Ollenshaw.”

I knew she would be in here, sitting in her usual spot—two seats from the end of the second row—but I am still unprepared for what the sight of her does to me. I have always found it difficult not to watch her. Not to stare at her beauty as she listens to me so intently, her brow furrowed in concentration. Not to let my gaze linger on the pale skin of her decolletage, or the way her breasts strain against the thin material that covers them. She sees me, and her bright-blue eyes widen, brimming with excitement and hope when they land on mine.

Hi, she says, speaking freely through our bond.

All the blood in my body is already heading south. The enduring memory of what we did last night, of how incredible it felt to sink into all the parts of her, is enough to have desire coursing through me like it is my lifeblood. I avert my gaze from hers and bark an order for the students still standing to take their seats.

Ophelia’s resulting sadness is acute. I do not need to look at her to know that her eyes are brimming with tears. Her blood still flows through my veins, and it calls to me now, demanding that I taste her again. Our bond is a new one, but it is stronger than any I have ever felt before. In ancient times, when there was little to do but fuck and fight, I would have taken her to my bed, and we would not have left it for weeks except to get her sustenance. We would have taken our fill until the beasts inside us both were sated.

But times are different now. We have so many responsibilities. And I suspect the beast that Ophelia Hart has awoken within me will never be sated. So all I can do for now is avoid looking at her, block her sweet voice from my thoughts, and not think about any of the things I would like to do to her once I get her home.

After class, I wait until most of the students have filtered out before raising my voice enough for her to hear me. “Miss Hart, may I speak with you about your paper?”

She stops in her tracks and glares at me defiantly. “I have somewhere to be, Professor,” she grits out.

Yes you do, little one. I growl the warning inside her head but keep my outward tone calm and neutral. “It will not take but a few moments of your time.”

She sighs, shrugging her backpack onto her shoulder. When another student stops to ask me about the midterm, Ophelia taps her foot impatiently. I curl my hands into fists, stopping myself from putting her over my knee and punishing her for her insolence.

I watch the rest of my students file out of the room, aware of Ophelia’s eyes on me and her growing anger. I am still actively tuning her out, counting down the seconds until that door closes and we are alone. Every cell in my body vibrates with the desire to scream at her meandering classmates to move faster and stop with their inane chatter, but I remain silent. However, as soon as the last one leaves and the door swings closed, I turn and face the object of my torment.

“Who do you—” she starts.

With a hand wrapped around her slender throat, I push her against the wall and cut off her question by sealing my lips over hers. She resists me, but I am undeterred, forcing my way into her defiant mouth until she submits. It takes no more than few seconds before she is whimpering softly and flicking her tongue against mine. She rakes her fingers through my hair, pulling me closer. I lift her and wrap her legs around my waist, pressing her flat to the wall. Grinding into the heat radiating from her damp panties, I try to replace a semblance of relief for the throbbing ache in my shaft.

When I am certain of her compliance, I break our kiss and allow her to draw a breath.

“Why did you ignore me, and why can’t I speak to you through our bond?” she asks through a series of pants, but there is no fire in her tone now, only sadness.

I rub my nose over her cheek and inhale her uniquely addictive scent. “It was the only way to get through this class, Ophelia.”

“But it wasn’t just in class. I tried to speak to you earlier today about Cadence, and you didn’t answer me.”

That she thinks I would purposely ignore her stings more than I could have anticipated. I lower the guard I had in place and speak through our bond. I was in Thucydides Library. I did not answer you because our bond will not work there. Malachi sought me out to ask my counsel, but had I known you were calling for me, I would have left the library and answered you myself.

Relief floods her, and she gives me a sweet smile. But why couldn’t you get through class without ignoring me? I’ve been in your class all semester.

Yes, but I was not bonded to you before. I did not have such intimate knowledge of the sweetest of temptations only a few feet away from me. Had I so much as looked at you today, I might have remembered all too clearly what happened between us last night.

And why would that have been so bad?

I huff a laugh. Because then it would have been incredibly difficult and incredibly painful to restrain myself. Would you like all your classmates to watch me fuck you? Perhaps I could have sat you on my podium and made them watch me eat your pussy instead?

She gasps, but the scent of her arousal grows stronger. My fangs protract with the need to take her. To taste her. But she has given enough blood this day. “You wouldn’t do that though, would you?” Her words come out as a string of breathy moans that do nothing to sate the desire burning through my veins.

“I would rather not, little one. But make no mistake, it is what I want to do whenever you are near. So if I am ever cold toward you, know that it is because I am fighting an internal battle to keep my hands off you.”

The skin on her neck and chest pinkens the way it does when she is aroused, and she wraps her arms around my neck. “I like having your hands on me.”

A feral growl rumbles from my chest. I am a mere breath away from taking her here in my classroom. “I know that I told you last night that it is unnecessary to keep us a secret, but I should have been clearer. We need not keep it a secret from our kind, but from the humans, we must. A professor dating his nineteen-year-old student is not good for the reputation of the college.”

She sighs. “Or for the reputation of Ophelia. I don’t really want everyone to know I’m …” She rolls her lips together, and the flush on her neck creeps over her cheeks.

I arch an eyebrow. “Screwing your professor?”

She feigns indignation, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “Well, yes. Although I could be doing that right now.” She glances down at our bodies pressed together. “But I’m not.”

“And you shall not until you can learn to control your power a little better. Dr. Ollenshaw has already been asking questions regarding my office. I had to tell him I met up with an old fire demon acquaintance of mine.”

Jealousy flares from her and almost makes me laugh, but it is quickly replaced by her frustration. “That doesn’t seem very fair.”

My mouth trails down the column of her throat, taunting us both with the promise of the sweet relief that would come from me biting her. “I agree. I can think of no greater punishment than me not fucking you.”

She curls her fingers in the hair at the nape of my neck and rubs herself against me. “But it’s a punishment for you too, if you really think about it. You know, staying away from me, not to mention my vamp-nip blood, could be hazardous for you.”

I dust my lips over her ear and laugh softly. “I was talking about me, Ophelia. And I will not feed from you again today. Your vamp-nip blood is safe for now. But if you are so concerned about my welfare, perhaps I do need to fuck you.” I unfasten my belt and my slacks and free myself before she has a chance to protest. “I think we will be fine so long as you get nowhere close to orgasm.”

I tug her panties aside and line the crown of my shaft up with her wet heat. “That also doesn’t seem very fair,” she says, whimpering.

“Nothing in life is fair, Ophelia.” I drive inside her with one smooth stroke, and she cries out, throwing her head back. I cradle it with my palm just in time to stop her from smacking it against the wall. “You are not going to burn down the history building, are you, Ophelia?”

She shakes her head.

I pull out and drive inside her again, making her bite down on her lip. “Can you see your light?”

“Y-yes.”

She is learning quickly. That she can replace her center already is a strong sign of her abilities, and it fills me with pride. “Good girl. Focus on that whilst I fuck you.”

“What if I do something?” she asks, her voice trembling. “What if I can’t stop it?”

“I can feel you. I will not let you get too close.” She is right—this is unfair. This is all about my pleasure and has nothing to do with hers, but I must do everything I can to prevent her from unleashing her powers in here, and I am incapable of stopping this. In this moment, if I were forced to choose between walking away from her or letting her burn this entire campus to ash, there would still only be one option. And that would be me inside of her.

I pay close attention to her body. Her erratic breathing. Her racing heart. Her arousal coating my cock with every thrust. And I am careful to keep her from getting anywhere close to the edge. She is already more in control than she was last night.

“Alexandros,” she whines, her muscles squeezing my cock so tightly that my own release is only seconds away.

I rest my forehead against hers. “I know, little one. I will teach you how to control your power, and then I will make it up to you. All the orgasms you desire.”

Her face lights up with a smile that almost makes my knees buckle. “You promise?”

“I promise.” I pull out slowly and savor the desperate whimpers I wring from her body before driving back inside and losing myself in the sweet oblivion of Ophelia.