“You think words matter?” His eyes burn into mine, feral, worshipful. “No, little fairy. Flesh remembers. Blood remembers. Forever remembers.”
The blade tilts, pricks, a shallow line above my heart. He watches the bead rise, red and trembling, before leaning down and taking it into his mouth. His tongue lingers, lapping, savouring.
I sob, the sound breaking against his lips as he kisses me, blood from my chest mixing with the taste of his tongue. His hand fists in my hair, yanking my head back until my throat strains.
“Open,” he growls. The blade rests against my jaw as his fingers force my mouth apart. He spits my own blood onto my tongue, his smile sharp as I gag on the heat.
“Swallow.”
I choke, tears spilling as the metallic burn slides down my throat. He watches every shudder, every gasp, his eyes alight with ruin.
“That’s the vow,” he whispers. “Not paper. Not ink. You and me, bound in blood.”
The blade clatters to the floor. His hands rip at his belt, trousers falling open, cock hard and slick with his own blood. He climbs over me, the chain rattling as my body jerks under his weight.
The collar digs deep when he grips it, holding me still, forcing my eyes to his. “Say it,” he demands, thrusting once, brutal, the sheets tearing under us. “Say forever.”
I choke on a scream, back arching, tears streaking my face. My body betrays me again, clenching, wet, traitorous.
His mouth crashes to mine, swallowing the sob, his cock slamming deeper, harder, each thrust timed with his filthy whisper: “Forever. Forever. Forever.”
Blood smears between us—his, mine, ours. My body burns, cut and bruised and broken, but he fucks me like he’s carving eternity into my flesh.
The chains rattle. The collar bites. My voice shatters.
And somewhere in the ruin, in the filth, in the agony—my lips form the word without meaning to.
“Forever.”
He groans, savage, triumphant, spilling inside me as if the word itself unlocked him. His hand fisted in my hair, his teeth at my throat, his cock buried to the hilt—branding me from the inside out.
The shrine is gone. The cage is ruin. The blood is everywhere.
And forever is real.
He doesn’t stop when he spills.
His hips grind into me, slower now, deeper, pushing his release further inside as if he can brand me with it. My body quakes under him, muscles spasming, cuts stinging, every nerve raw.
The chain rattles with each shallow thrust. The collar bites when he yanks me up by it, dragging me against his chest. Blood smears between us, sticky and hot, streaking his skin where I clawed him, marking me with every drop that falls from his wounds.
He pulls free with a guttural groan, cock wet and dripping, and smears himself up my stomach, across my breasts, painting me in him. His blood and mine mix on his hand as he drags it down my throat, forcing my mouth open.
“Drink it,” he snarls, shoving his fingers between my lips, wet with seed and iron. “Our vows don’t end with words. They end with you swallowing what I give you.”
I gag, throat burning, tears streaking, but he doesn’t let go until I choke it down. His smile is sharp, feral, reverent as he watches my throat convulse.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, stroking my cheek with the back of his bloodied hand. “Now you’re mine in every way that matters.”
The blade is back in his hand before I can breathe. He drags it slow across my stomach, shallow enough to sting, deep enough to bleed. I sob, arching against the cuffs, but he only presses harder, until the blood runs.
Then he dips his fingers in it and smears it over my breasts, across my mouth, down between my thighs.
His eyes blaze with fevered devotion. “A wedding dress in red.”
He shoves two blood-slick fingers inside me, pumping slow, filthy, obscene, as if he’s grinding the vow deeper into my body. My pussy clenches, traitorous, shuddering, pulling him in.
He laughs low in my ear, his teeth grazing my throat. “Even your body prays to me now.”
