I Thirst for You — Chapter 17 - Piercing His Fangs Deep

Silent.

Awkward.

And as usual, a torture.

Their second dinner could be summarized like that. Again.

The Master said nothing more after that illustrious admission of his. Amanda remained smartly silent, acting as if she enjoyed the meal when in truth her stomach felt like it had just turned upside down.

Who wouldn’t be when this kind of a man just revealed what he thinks about her?

Amanda knew the purpose of this dinner was to be interrogated about what she witnessed during the time of the murder. She didn’t expect it would turn out a confession as well.

It consequently placed her in a hot seat.

Especially in addition to another predicament of hers: the Master’s uncovered eyes.

During dinner, she felt like a mouse trapped in a cage.

Why?

Because he kept on drilling a hole through her with his secretive stares. As if... As if he could really see. In full color. In real dimensions. Every detail of her body. Her small gestures. The minute expressions of her face as she keeps herself painstakingly calm and collected.

It would have been better if he wore the cloth. It wouldn’t have made her feel damn conscious.

He was even acting normally while eating. He didn’t bump his hands on the candelabra. He knew where the cutleries were placed. He was even sure where to find his bloody choice of food however specific and pint-sized the meat cuts were.

He damn knew which glass contained water and which held the blood-red wine.

The Head Majordomo really was right. The Master could take care of himself. He wasn’t disabled.

And because of this, Amanda felt a twinge of apprehension and excitement.

Apprehension - because he wasn’t someone to be fooled. She’d have to be careful with her actions in front of him.

And excitement - because this virile of a man was basically invincible.

She hadn’t come across someone like him ever before. What other surprises was he keeping for her to discover? Surely, there was still more. More that would make her interest in him even grow stronger.

“Did you enjoy the food?”

That’s the very question the Master asked once Amanda sampled the strawberry shortcake dessert.

It was sudden. Fast. No preliminaries whatsoever. No clearing of a throat or a simple cough.

It startled Amanda for a second, but she was able to collect herself quickly.

She shifted her head up to look at him, her forehead creasing briefly when she found him unfazed by their earlier conversation. He’d probably won an award for being the best actor with his hard mask on. Any other man would have unraveled and exposed his desire to her through his eyes or facial expressions. Like Matteo for example. But him? No. Not one clue.

“Yes, as always. Like I said before, your cooks create delicious meals. They are a pro, ” she answered, making a mental note of shoving his confession earlier in the back of her mind. It seemed to her that she was the only one still thinking about it.

Cord sharply exhaled. “That’s good to hear, ” he said and then rose to his feet. “Well, I will leave first. If you are done with your dessert, you can return to your chamber.”

Amanda blinked thrice. What did he just say?

“Aren’t you going to ask me about the murder case?” she asked, stopping him from leaving the table.

Cord had to subtly clench his fist that held the black cloth. This was asking too much. Way too much.

He had already kept himself in tight check during dinner. He would have wanted to bolt out of the table after his traitorous mouth once again sputtered nonsense words, but he held back in respect to the beautiful woman in his front. He decided to finish their meal, no matter how trying it was, and thought he’d bail out the moment she’d touch her dessert - murder case be damned.

Her innocence. Does she know she was attacking him below-the-belt with it?

“It’s not necessary anymore, ” he replied in a low voice, his face slightly positioned away from her. “Chief Moretti had told me your testimony already. I don’t need you to retell it.”

Amanda shook her head slightly, confused. “Although I find it a bit odd, but I thought you wanted to know badly?”

“Do you have anything to add other than what you gave to Chief Moretti?” the Master asked, his expression turning grave when he glanced at her way.

“Uh, no. No... None at all, ” Amanda trailed off. She dipped her head to look at her lap and remained silent. She couldn’t be sure why she was pushing it when in fact she should have been relieved that he didn’t pursue unearthing such dreaded memory.

“Then, there’s no need for me or you to stay here. We can save ourselves the suffering.”

Cord took a step sideways as quickly as he could but once again Amanda stopped him with a question.

“Suffering?” She crinkled her brows. “Suffering of what?”

And that’s when Cord’s patience snapped.

He huffed, placed the blindfold back in the table, and strode slowly towards Amanda’s seat. Each step was heavy and calculated. Each blunt sound of his boots against the floor tiles a promise of closeness.

Amanda couldn’t be more heated up. Her heart, if it was overworking earlier, tripled even more. But truly, as uneasy as she was the whole time of their dinner, she didn’t know what he meant by his choice of word.

She momentarily forgot how to breathe when Cord stopped an inch away from her. She honestly thought he’d request her to stand up but to her shock, the contrary happened.

With one swift move, he easily pulled her chair to face him as if it didn’t weigh anything. As if she didn’t weigh a hundred pounds.

The thick legs scraped against the floor, carved wood against polished tile, creating a rough sound in their ears. Amanda gasped along with it.

Though she wanted to recoil and run to her bedroom, she steeled herself, gripped the armrests, and tilted her head up to look at him.

“Don’t tell me you don’t suffer while in my company?” He leaned forward, placed his hands at the end of her armrests, and jailed her in place. “You aren’t intimidated by me at all? You aren’t affected by my words earlier? You don’t...feel anything?”

Distinctly boxed in, all Amanda could do was to swallow. Hard.

“Uh, Mister Vitalis. Please, you don’t need to trespass my personal space, ” she pointed out, leaning back to add more space between their faces. Her chest rose higher, spilling free her cleavage, and for this she blushed, feeling cognizant.

Cord smirked and straightened. He stepped again, moving from the front to the right side of the chair, and ran his fingers along the bareness of her shoulders to her neck, the beautiful waterfall of golden-brown locks all but shoved away.

“You don’t suffer this?” Cord asked languidly, eliciting an eruption of goose flesh from Amanda.

She clenched her eyes shut, unable to bear the feeling of his sensual fingertips tickling her.

Suffering - she was indeed feeling it, but it wasn’t an ordinary one. It wasn’t what regular humans experienced.

Hers was more concentrated. The ache in her belly down betwixt her thighs was agonizing. It was setting her on fire. Similar to how she felt when their bodies touched in the throne room. Only the good side of course. The addictive one.

But she hated the feeling. Such was only a hassle and she didn’t want to welcome it.

“No, ” as much as she did suffer, she lied in the end.

Cord lifted a brow. “Oh?” he replied, clearly in disbelief. He didn’t need for Amanda to answer. The spiking of her heartbeat was enough for him to know she felt the same way.

Attraction.

Desire.

The need to sever the magnetic pull but the longing for more.

Only an additional difference for him was that he wanted to wound her. Pierce her skin. Taste her blood. Bled dry her body.

By the mere thought of it, his fangs ached once again, wanting to free itself, but Cord successfully drew it back.

“Alright, let’s make this night interesting shall we?” he stated, choosing to temporarily drop the subject for his own sake, but it took him all his will to wrench his fingers out of her skin and place it above the head of her chair. “Let’s not talk about the murder case. Let’s talk about you. Tell me Amanda, who are you really? You are no ordinary human for sure.”

How? How did he know? Amanda’s eyes bulged. She wanted to clench her hands into a tight fist, but with him now standing behind her surely observing her every move, she relaxed them.

Like she had concluded earlier, even with him blind, she had to be more careful with her actions.

“What makes you think I am that Mr. Vitalis?” she asked managing to cover the shaking of her voice.

This, in response, earned a snort from Cord. What clever way of avoiding it, he thought out loud.

He traced back his steps earlier and positioned himself in Amanda’s front with his arms jailing her in the chair once again.

“Cord. I told you to call me by my name, ” he answered, voice edged with authority.

Amanda frowned at him.

“I will have to politely ask you to move back, Cord.”

With this, the Master rejoiced silently, showing a very, very faint and brief curve of his lips. How wonderful it was to hear her tongue say his name.

“No. Not until you tell me who you are, ” he answered.

“First attacking me with your rudeness, next threatening me, and now this, blackmailing me?” She squared her shoulders and refused to be affected with their closeness and the warmth of his breath tickling her forehead.

“Just so you know, amidst me being the Master of this House, nobility isn’t my quality traits Amanda, ” he answered in a monotone.

“Then, let me ask you the same, ” she spat back. “Who are you too? What is it in you that screamed of caution and all-things danger in the back of my head? You don’t act blind at all. Either you have overdeveloped senses or you have superpowers. Which would be it?”

Cord grinned upon hearing the first half of her questions, but after that, it disappeared. Instead, it changed into a thin line. Displeased where their little battle of wits led to, he extricated himself, released his hands from Amanda’s chair, and straightened.

As much as he enjoyed interrogating her, he didn’t approve when it came to him.

“I like it that your mind is sharp, but unfortunately, I will just have to keep you guessing.”

He stepped backward, away from her, but halted when she said: “Aww, don’t retreat now. We are just getting started, Master. My secrets are my own to keep, but with proper push, I might consider telling you. You are after all my most gracious host.”

She didn’t exactly know what made her this brave. Maybe it was because of the wine? Maybe because she was already fuming inside with his hot-and-cold bullshi*t treatment? Or maybe because she was fed up with the way he made her feel?

Whatever it was, she was sure as hell dying to know his secret too.  And she wanted to get this over and done fast, so braving herself in front of him was the best choice.

A muscle in Cord’s jaw twitched. He inhaled deeply, holding it for such a time while staring straight at her and said, “Don’t tease my patience, Amanda. I only got a fine thread of it left before I snap. And you wouldn’t like the bloody side of it.”

“Huh, bloody, ” she scoffed, “You sure like that metaphor.”

The woman was really digging her own grave, Cord mused, and him being likened to the Grim Reaper, relished the thought.

“Shall we try it then?” His hard stare was set on her. He was fucking ready to reveal himself. Screw the consequences later. “If you agree, you’ll see who I really am.”

“Bring it on, ” Amanda encouraged, narrowing her eyes, more determined than afraid.

After that, Cord swiftly wrenched her left wrist out from the armrest and positioned the smooth, pulsating side of it directly in his mouth.

His fangs protruded out of his lips, cloud white and squeaky clean, the tips of it brought a sure promise of pain.

He studied her for a moment and saw her face turn pale. Her eyes bulged, her lips trembled, parting to form what he expected to be a word to halt him, but without waiting for her to say it, he pierced his fangs deep.

Amanda, with the foreign object embedded in her flesh, turned lightheaded. Flashbacks after flashbacks of the same memories formed a tornado in her mind. It was with so much force that she consequently fainted.