A finger ran down the edge of my cheek, feather-light and teasing. I could smell his cologne, something rich and heady, and beneath that, the soft scent of frangipani soap—and then another a layer of something else, like books. Dusty books always had a peculiar and comforting scent to me.

I was trembling and it was not fear. Things in my stomach were tight. My teeth felt hard.

It was the vampiric equivalent of an erection; I hoped he could not see it.

“That’s fine. I will tempt and tease and dance and entertain, but I’m not for sale. I won’t sleep with anyone I don’t want to,” My voice didn’t sound very strong. I was a jester, not a strumpet.

He nodded, still tracing my jaw line, “I don’t need a courtesan; I need you. This evening’s performance proved that you are a good man, Jester—and if you truly did not kill the King, you are loyal. I need someone trustworthy, not more little brats underfoot; you are old and smart. You don’t let your emotions compromise you.”

I swallowed, unable to move—or rather, I refused to move, “I didn’t kill him, but when I find the bastard that did, I’ll make them regret it for the rest of their very short—”

He cut me off by kissing me. It was a very good kiss.

I had no sooner opened my lips than his tongue plunged into my mouth. His tongue ran along my mine and he touched my fangs. The soft edge of his tongue running up and down the sharp canines sent erotic thrills down my spine, making me gasp.

I surged against him, not sure if I wanted to push him off or let him do his worst. I had not had a kiss like this in a long time.

I made a noise as he tickled my left fang and felt him push me harder into the column. There was a violent, almost panicked movement as he caught my wrists above my head.

He was leaning against me; I could feel excitement stirring in his pants against my leg.

Oh God, I really wanted to go there.

With a pained moan I pulled back, flattening against the support pillar, “Stop—can’t go any further.”

I was having trouble talking around the fangs in my mouth.

He stared at me from inches away, his eyes almost twin circles of sharp colour, “You have an objection to it? Because it really doesn’t seem like you object to the teasing and the touching.”

I swallowed, trying to squirm free, but he was not having it. He did not budge, “No, I can’t; I just...”

“I do not play for teasing, Avery.”

I struggled with my body and my need to get some air into my lungs — air that did not smell delicious. I could not think straight, I could not think why I wanted him to stop. I could not focus.

“Let me go.”

“I am not a baby, Avery; you cannot have it both ways.”

I swallowed, trying to think past the rush of blood in my ears and the taste of him still in my mouth. Finally, I calmed my raging hormones and pushed against him with a little more control, “Then I will not have it at all.”

The words sounded painful, even to me— forced and too harsh. I did not want to say them, but I also did not want to be having the follow-up conversation that would come from this.

The Spiders stepped back; to my credit, it looked like it took a concerted effort, “You do not want to join me then?”

I stepped away from him when I had the room and pulled my collar down, controlling my hands before I reached for him again. I felt very animalistic in that moment.

“I do not wish to join anyone. I will enter into business with you and be your personal Jester, but my body is for show and tickle, no telling or taking. It is my condition.”

His face drew into a mask that I knew well— it was the same expression of careful neutrality that cast across anyone who had survived in the middle-ages.

I had one just like it.

“Very well then, Jester. I will respect your boundary, but if you tease me or provoke my interest on purpose, I will not stop.”

I nodded, though silently I found my mind screaming about how long it had been since I had been with another vampire, and how good an Elder was at these things—but I beat myself into carefully neutral expression.

“I understand.”

“At least one of us does,” He growled. He looked annoyed that I had rejected his bed.

He left me then, shivering in the cool night air and wondering what the hell was wrong with me.