Married To The Mad Vampire Lord

"Do you... have to go now?" Belle whispered, her eyes opening wider. She was so used to sharing a room and a bed with him that the thought of sleeping alone unsettled her. What if she fell into the land of the dead or into the life of that Isabelle, who would wake her up then?

Rohan noticed her unwillingness to sleep alone and touched his hand to her face. "I won't go now, but eventually, I have to. We can't let the guards see me leaving through the window." As much as he wanted to spend the entire night with her, he had to return the baby while he was still sleeping, after he was done feeding.

Angel had the habit of waking by dawn and then refusing to sleep again. Before that time came, Rohan would have to make sure the child woke in Lady Evenly's arms or else he wouldn't want to be carried away from Belle and end up crying, which would no doubt draw the attention of the Dawsons.

Seeing how she wasn't closing her eyes to sleep again, but only stared at him instead, Rohan said quietly, "You should sleep."

"I am no longer sleepy," she muttered softly, then added, "There's something I wanted to tell you."

Rohan looked attentive at those words, his dark gaze focused on her, as he asked, "What is it?"

Their voices were a harsh whisper, lowered due to the silent night, and by their need not to wake Angel, who was beginning to drift off to sleep between them.

"This afternoon, I found out that Jamie is engaged to the Marquis' daughter," she told him.

"I know. I found that out this afternoon as well when I took a stroll to his shop, I was told about it by a boy. I went to meet the Marquis to ask about it."

Belle's eyes rounded in astonishment. "You went to meet the Marquis? What did you talk about?" She had not thought that Rohan would have started his investigation this quickly, on the very first day of being in Aragonia.

"Not pleasant things," he admitted. "From what he told me, I believe the people in your dreams are real people, and Jamie Marchant is related to Deven. Deven is his grandfather."

He told her everything they had discussed in the carriage, and he saw her face pale a little, the rosy tint fading from her cheeks.

"They are real people... they died in a fire," Belle muttered grimly, her arm subconsciously tightening around her son as her eyes shifted upward to the ceiling. "Then that Isabelle... what happened to her? What did Deven do to her to make her hate him? I felt her hatred like it was mine."

She had always suspected the people were real, that they had once existed. But she had no idea why the girl looked so much like her, or why her family had never spoken about naming her after someone who had died long ago. No one had ever told her about this Isabelle, or about the scandal between their family and the Marchants. Though neither of her parents had been born at that time, family history always carried on through stories.

And Jamie... she had never thought he carried such a history. How had everything come to this? How could it be that now these dreams were haunting her sleep?

"We can only get the answers about what happened to that Isabelle from your parents. And if I dig into the Dawsons' past history, the one they seemed determined to bury," came Rohan's quiet voice, pulling her gently out of her thoughts, "perhaps then we'll know. But before I do that, I don't want you worrying about these things. Once we get answers, we will understand why the dreams are coming to you."

Belle nodded absentmindedly, curiosity gnawing at her inside as the weight of the emotions of the girl who looked like her pressed heavier on her mind. What had happened to her to turn her into a hateful person when she had seemed lovely and excited about marrying Deven?

"Isa," Rohan called gently, touching her arm and rubbing it to gain her attention. She turned slowly to look at him. "I said no worrying. Your mind is already flying away. I will talk to your parents when the time is right and make them answer me."

She nodded again, but her eyes still looked distant.

Rohan sighed, gazing into her large, expressive eyes that had always been so easy to read, and even more so now. "If you let your mind keep flying, you won't get any sleep tonight, nor rest properly, love."

"Then distract me. Give me something else to think about. I can't seem to control my mind or my thoughts, they keep going back to that Isabelle..." she admitted quietly. Now that she was certain they had been real people in the past, her curiosity only grew. And she knew Rohan was right, if she didn't remove those thoughts from her mind, she wouldn't be able to rest.

A crooked grin graced his sinfully beautiful lips, and Belle's eyes instantly fell to it as he murmured, "I have many ways to distract my wife." His voice was a low tease, his gaze slipping down toward their sleeping son, who had finally stopped sucking.

Rohan's insides warmed when his eyes caught the milk trailing down the corner of the baby's lips, shining softly before slipping down Belle's breast. His throat worked as he swallowed, his mind filling with curious thoughts, thoughts that had crossed his mind once before, but that he had pushed away. Now, he couldn't.

Belle's lashes lowered, her lips curving faintly as she whispered, "Then distract me... in the way only you can."

He brought his hand up and touched her other breast gently, letting his finger trace the peaking nipple that strained against the soft chemise, the rosy peak showing faintly through the thin fabric. He felt her shiver at his touch, and when he lifted his eyes to her face, he saw her lips parted, her breath catching softly.

He leaned forward, raising himself carefully as he carried the sleeping baby, who stirred but did not wake, and left the bed. He walked to the small single sofa in the room and laid him down slowly. Then he went back to the bed and retrieved a pillow, placing it carefully behind the baby to support him so he wouldn't roll or fall off.

Only when his son was safe did he return, sliding back onto the bed and moving closer to his wife, his body lowering over hers as he claimed her parted lips in a kiss.

Her arms came up at once and wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as she kissed him back with a tender eagerness that made his chest tighten and his pulse quicken.

"If I put my mouth here," he whispered huskily, his hand cupping her breast, his thumb brushing over the soft mound, "will your milk come out?"

She moaned her reply against his mouth when he rubbed his thumb over her bare nipple, the same one where Angel had just nursed moments ago.

"I want to have a taste, if you don't mind. I am curious what it's like," he rasped, his voice thick with desire and restraint.

"If you want to try," she said softly, her eyes lowering with shy consent, "you can."

Lowering his head, he brushed his lips against her warm skin first, breathing her in deeply, savoring her scent, before his mouth finally closed over her nipple.

The taste hit him instantly. It was warm, almost sweet. He froze for a moment, not expecting it to have such sweetness to it. A shudder moved through him as he sucked gently, drawing her into his mouth. It wasn't blood, nothing like the metallic heat he was used to, but something far more intimate and strangely pleasing. His fingers gripped her waist as he drank slowly, unable to stop himself once he had tasted it.

Belle's toes curled as heat, unlike any other, rushed through her body at the warmth of his mouth on her nipple. The sensation of his tongue swirling and sucking sent fire straight through her, nothing at all like when her son nursed. This was different, this was passion, and she bit back a moan as he opened his mouth wider, taking in more of her, swallowing her milk.

Her breath trembled as her fingers slid into his thick, smooth hair, holding him gently, her body arching toward him. "Rohan…" she moaned his name, a plea and surrender both.

He lifted his gaze briefly, his mouth still on her, his eyes dark and heavy with the desire inside him. "Should I stop?" he rasped, his lips moving against her tender skin.

She shook her head at once, her hand pressing his head back down, pulling his mouth to her wet nipple. "No..."

And then he closed his eyes again and resumed sucking, pulling more deeply this time, his body trembling at the way it soothed something inside him. Hell be damned, he had never known anything could taste better than blood, better than any meal.