Her gaze flickered between my eyes and my throat, and her scent flooded the room. Gods, I wanted to feel those fangs sink into me, feel her take from my throat. My skin tightened at the mere thought of it, at the thought of all the things I wanted to do to her while she took from my vein.
“Take from me. Use me,” I said, trying to hold myself back as my cock pressed against the fly of my jeans, begging to be touched by those delicate hands, those soft lips. I ground my teeth together, my own fangs lengthening at the sight of her flushed cheeks, of the blood painting her lips.
Fucking hell. I forced myself to let her take lead, resisting the urge to pull her to me, hike up that blood-stained gown she wore and bury myself inside her—feel that slick heat consume me.
She panted, and thank the gods, stopped resisting my hold, stopped fighting as her gaze latched wholly on my throat. Her hands glided up my chest, each inch torturous, each second leading my mind into a spiral of all the ways I wanted those hands to touch me. I tilted my head to the side, my hand sweeping down her back in encouraging strokes. Her heated breath spilled out against my skin, and I inhaled sharply. She tensed before she could bite down, her hands twitching as they gripped my shirt tightly.
“Don’t hesitate,” I breathed into her hair, lifting my hand to the back of her head.
She bit down, those glorious little fangs piercing into my throat, and my body bucked, the sharp pain immediately melting into something sinful.
“Fuck.”
A moan slipped from her lips as she drank down the first gulp, and I nearly came right there. I calmed the roaring in my blood, the need threatening to ignite me. I wanted to feel her around me, feel her ride my cock as she fed from my vein, let her taste every bit of the pleasure she sent coursing through my body. Our bond roared to life in electric waves.
She drew another deep pull before her knees buckled. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her against me so she could continue. She moaned against my skin as I slid my knee between her thighs, allowing her to settle against me. I cursed at the molten heat at her core, and I realized she was bare beneath her gown.
Her scent heightened, the scent of jasmine and citrus strong, mixed with the sweet scent of her arousal. I wanted to taste her, to throw her up on the dresser and drop to my knees before her. My hands drifted down her back, over her hips where the gown bunched as she straddled my thigh. I gripped her hips, pulling them forward against my knee, and she broke from my neck to gasp a moan.
“Sorry,” I breathed, but she latched back on. Her hips rocked forward against my thigh again, and the moan that slipped from her throat broke my focus, broke my control. My hands slid around to grab her ass, and I pulled her firmly against me as she rocked against my leg and...
“Fucking hell, Cas,”I breathed into her ear. “Gods, I want to feel you on me.”
The scent of her arousal told me she wanted it just as badly, and I’d let her use me however she needed—my vein, my lips, my leg, my cock. She could have it all.
Her hand fell to the front of my pants, making quick work of the button and zipper. Was she aware yet? Or was this the effects of the feeding, of the bloodlust? I couldn’t see her eyes, and I didn’t want to risk pulling her away, didn’t want to stop her before she’d gotten what she needed.
Her hand slid into my jeans, the tips of her fingers brushing against—
“Gods,” I groaned, my head falling back.
She moaned as the taste of my pleasure slid down her throat, as it echoed to every inch of her body, just as it did for me when I drank down every ounce of her ecstasy as she cried out my name. I could lose myself in that taste, in the sensation, in her.
Her hand wrapped around my cock. She stroked me from base to tip and back down again, and I dropped my head against her shoulder, sweat breaking out across my skin as I held myself back. I wanted to take her, to lift her up and feel that wet heat envelop me as I plunged myself into her so deeply she screamed my name.
She paused her strokes as she broke the connection with my throat to catch a breath, and I grabbed hold of her hand before she could pull free of my jeans. I pressed a kiss to her shoulder, gripping her hand around my cock, unable to hold myself back anymore, needing to feel her in some way. A moan slipped from my lips as she continued to glide her hand over me, and my hips pumped against her, meeting each stroke.
My fangs lengthened, throbbing, desperate to taste her as she tasted me, but not yet. That would come later when she was fully recovered and strong enough. My pants sagged down on my hips, and I held her hand to me, my fingers wrapping on hers as she pumped me until I thought I might shatter.
I ran my tongue up her neck, and the moan that tore from her throat nearly caused me to slip and bite down. Her chest heaved against mine as she gasped for air, her back bowing as she caved into me.
She didn’t return to my neck, her head dipping forward to rest against my shoulder. Had she taken enough? Had she returned to me? I pulled back just enough to see her face, my hand rising to tilt her chin up to see those dazzling eyes meet mine. She blinked, as if her vision was focusing, and her hand halted its strokes.
Her lips parted as her eyes drifted over my face. That hunger lingered in her eyes, though, that little fleck of hazel gleaming amidst the silver glow.
“Damien, I... I don’t—”
I kissed her, the sound of her voice the most beautiful music I’d ever heard. I’d nearly lost her, possibly for good, but she was here, alive.
Her hand slipped free of my pants and reached up to ensnare her fingers in my hair. She pulled me closer, her lips crashing into my own, and I groaned. I felt her hunger with each stroke of her lips, each brush of her tongue against mine. She broke the kiss, eyes falling back to my throat, the hunger lingering.
“If you need more,it’s okay,” I breathed, cupping her face, eager for her to take me again. Immeasurable pride swelled within me that I could give her what her body needed, that I could give her strength.
Her fingers dug into my arm, and I groaned at the feel of her skin against mine. Her hands dropped to the hem of my shirt, and she lifted it up and over my head before she passed her tongue against the puncture wounds on my neck. Waves of ecstasy rippled out to every inch of my body. I wanted her, couldn’t wait another moment to feel her fangs sink into me as my cock plunged into her.
I grabbed hold of her hips and pulled her against me as I dropped my head to press kisses against her shoulder, up her neck. I stepped back to the bed, kicking off my jeans and boxers before I eased down to sit before her. She didn’t hesitate, climbing up until she straddled me, my cock free and pressed up against her slick heat. The feel of it was almost too much, but I held back, resisted the urge to let myself go.
Her lips crashed against mine for one, much too short, heated kiss before she pushed me back onto the bed. Her glossy eyes roamed my chest, her tongue passing over her bloodied lips as those fangs caught the dim light of the lamps. My cock twitched at the sight of them.
