Even if she’d been a royal, he wouldn’t have considered her. Ashley was all right, but he didn’t love her. And she sure as hell didn’t love him. Dante suspected she didn’t really like royals.
His father had been born a royal, but one without money. His father had pulled his entire family off the surface with willpower and intelligence. Dante was never going to live up to his father.
“Have I lost you?” Ashley stared up at him, her brown eyes questioning. Her hands were on his thighs. He hadn’t even noticed that she’d stopped. What was wrong with him?
Dante shook his head and stroked her hair. She was a sweet girl, and she’d been good to him in her own way. He didn’t want her to feel insecure. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. My mind is on the problem. Don’t stop. I need this tonight.”
She winked up at him and lowered her head, talking as she pressed kisses along his cock. “You know all the eligible American royals. I doubt any of them will be willing to date you after your Bachelor debacle. Way to break the consort’s heart, by the way,” Ashley pointed out as she cupped his balls.
Dante looked down at her. He was reclining in a comfortable chair, watching as the blonde beauty worked. She looked thoughtful. He knew she was contemplating his trouble when she should have been paying attention to his need, but he was practical. He realized she was in this for the cash. If he got married, she had to look for a new “mentor.”
“Are you going to go international? There might be some royal on an island somewhere who didn’t see the show.”
“I’m not going at all,” Dante replied, thrusting his hips up. He relaxed back as her head bobbed up and down. She settled in to her task. “I’m not going to let him force me into something I’m not ready for. Just because he wanted to settle down at such a young age doesn’t mean I have to. Oh, yeah. That’s it, sweetheart.”
This was what he needed. He tangled his hands in her hair as his fangs popped out. It had taken them long enough.
He felt her tongue whirl over and around his dick, and he started to thrust into her mouth with purpose. Her mouth was small and warm, but he wanted more. He wanted to give her an orgasm, to remind himself that he could still do something right.
“Come on,” he ordered, pulling her up and into his lap. “Ride me.”
She straddled him obediently. Her brown eyes were warm as she lined his cock up and sank onto him.
Dante watched her breasts. It was a little disappointing. They didn’t bounce the way real ones would, but most of the women who could afford it had their boobs done. Dante found they were less sensitive than real boobs. Still, her pussy was real, and it was tight and warm. Dante forgot about the fight with his father. He forgot about the potential for disaster lurking in the background. He forgot about everything but the need to come. He let his hands trace the lithe lines of her body, guiding her up and down.
After a while of enjoying the penetration, Dante worked his hand in between their bodies. He rubbed his mistress’s clitoris forcefully and was pleased when she came with a little mewling cry. He let himself go and groaned as the orgasm took him. He bucked up and held her hips. Ashley fell forward into his arms.
Dante rubbed her back gently, but his brain was back to working overtime. He should be content. He should be basking in the afterglow, but all he could think about was how he was going to face his family in the morning knowing he now had an expiration date. How was he going to find a job in a company his father didn’t own? He seriously doubted Susan would give him a decent reference as anything but a man-whore.
“You need to find someone completely unsuitable.” Ashley’s words were sighed against his neck.
“What?”
She sat up a little and put her hands on his shoulders. “Look, consorts are hard to come by ever since King Torin closed off Tir na nÓg.”
“You mean Torin the Pretender.” The words were harsh to Dante’s ears. Torin had killed his aunt, uncle, and cousin, Bronwyn. Torin was the reason Beck and Cian were in exile. He would not hear him honored with a title. “The kings of the Seelie Fae are King Beckett and King Cian.”
Ashley’s mouth formed a perfectly shocked O. It didn’t surprise Dante. He rarely sounded serious. His cousins’ throne was one of the only things he was damn serious about. One day he would convince them to take it back. Dante wouldn’t be satisfied until Beck, Cian, and Meg sat on their rightful thrones.
“Of course,” she said politely, scrambling off his lap. She quickly recovered. She pulled her robe around her and poured Dante another drink. Her smile was gracious as she passed it to him. “I apologize, baby. As I was saying, once Torin closed off the homelands, consorts became rare. I hear there are many who come from planes we would never have considered before.”
Dante zipped up his pants. He would take a shower before he headed home. The last thing he needed was his parents to catch him reeking of sex and Scotch. And it was probably time to begin to ease his way out of the relationship with Ashley. He would pay for her last year of school. Maybe it was time to be alone for a while. “Yes, the Planeswalker clans are making a fortune off Torin’s miserliness. I don’t see how this helps me, sweetheart.”
It limited his options. Now that he really thought about it, he supposed he’d always planned on finding a consort eventually. Almost all vampires of royal lines married a consort. There were several reasons for the practice, the chief being all the physical benefits a vampire received from taking regular blood from a consort. It elongated the life of the royal vampire. A typical vampire’s life span was roughly a hundred years. It doubled when a royal dined regularly on a consort.
A consort was a special type of male or female, usually of Fae lineage, though Dante had recently discovered humans could be consorts, as well. Something about their blood strengthened the vampire. In return, the consort remained young and vital from sexual relations with the vampire. Torin was attempting to sway the Vampire plane to his side by cutting off their access to suitable consorts.
It was starting to work. There was a large part of the plane that called for turning over the royal twins to Torin. If Torin was satisfied, he would open Tir na nÓg and trade would flow once more.
It wasn’t going to happen. They would take his cousins over Dante’s dead body.
“A Fae consort is trained.” Ashley’s musing brought him out of his dark thoughts. “Even Colin, who wasn’t aware of his status until he came to our plane, was taught manners and proper etiquette. He was educated. Your father might have come from meager beginnings, but he has high standards. If you brought home a completely unsuitable wife, he would be horrified.”
Dante’s mind raced with the possibilities. Ashley was right. His father would die before allowing an uneducated rube into his precious family. Perhaps he could use the current state of trade to his advantage. “He might even let me get her a house somewhere far away.”
Ashley rolled her eyes. “He might let you cast her aside. You can then go back to your former playboy lifestyle, having done your best to satisfy your father.”