I tangled my fingers in his burnt-blond hair, tilting his head back. His eyes glowed with unchained hunger, dark need spreading to every corner of his expression.
“You’re a fucking witch,” he growled, part anger, part awe. “You trapped me, and now I can’t feel anything but this… ever again.”
I threw my head back, laughing into the night sky, keeping up those slow, tantalizing thrusts, driving us both higher and higher. His hands devoured every line of muscle, every taut inch of skin, gripping greedily. I loved hearing his curses mix with his need. In this moment, I was seen and utterly desired.
The raw, carnal rush of being the sole object of someone’s attention and adoration was intoxicating. No pretense, no power games, no strategy. Just primal, unfiltered want. Every moment with Conrad was instinctual, a give-and-take of pure, unbridled need.
I wanted to drown in it, to lose myself completely.
A rustle to my left snapped me from the haze, and I paused. My gaze sharpened, instincts flaring. Was someone watching? I’d gut them before they saw even a second more.
“Please, Nova.”
Conrad’s fractured voice drew me back, and the noise faded into nothing. I looked down, struck by the sheer, devastating beauty of him. Fangs out, lips glistening, eyes darting from my neck to my eyes, raw desperation was written across every feature.
He wanted not only my body but my blood. Most born vampires used blood for control or mating, but turned ones had no such luxury of choice. They needed connection, physical and visceral, to draw what they craved.
I lifted my hair, offering my neck, letting anticipation coil tight around my senses.
His soft, plush lips traced a trail from my shoulder to my neck, each brush creating electric sparks that pooled in my core. My breath hitched, and my hips rolled, riding every wave, every pulse of heat. One hand cupped my neck, gentle, grounding. The other claimed my breast, his thumb circling my areola in slow, maddening strokes that made me arch into him.
Then, his fingers pinched, hard, and I screamed. At the same moment, his fangs sank deep into my skin. My mind went blank, drowning in fire and desire, and my body trembled uncontrollably, completely consumed by the pleasure of each pull at my neck.
It had never been like this.
After Zeth’s rejection, I really wanted to split sex from the desire for partners, for a mate. It drove me to turn to strangers, casting blur spells over my face so no one would recognize me. It was just body parts meshing together. Mechanical, impersonal. Heat, yes, but only from the act itself, not this slow, devouring fire that rose higher with every touch.
Then Aniyah’s Twenty-first birthday happened. Liam happened.
I knew I wasn’t soft or delicate. I wore muscle and control like armor because I had to. When Liam and I clicked, I thought I had found someone who saw outside of that. Someone who could see the locked-away part of me. The woman that wanted to flirt, and joke, and swoon at soft, sultry words. But it had all been a farce.
That night, I nailed that door shut, chained it, and threw away the key. I would never be that vulnerable again.
I wasn’t made to be wanted. I was made to be strong. To lead. To control.
The sharp pull at my neck dragged me back to now. My legs wrapped around Conrad’s back, and I held on tight. All of those feelings bled into the background as I moaned his name.
His hands gripped my waist, and, with inhuman speed, he drove me up and down, hard and fast, until the forest blurred into flashes of green. The only sounds left were his carnal grunts and my broken moans as he sucked at my neck and fucked me raw.
“Ooh, oh, fuck! Conrad. Haah... aaah!” My voice fractured, repeating those words like a broken record as my body bounced helplessly in his grasp while I clung to him with everything I had.
Heat burned at my wrist, searing through me, and I almost told him to stop, to figure out what that burning was, when he yanked his mouth from my neck and growled into the forest like the apex predator he was. He pushed me back onto the ground, and all thoughts of pain left as every thrust of his hips pounded me into the earth, skin smacking, friction igniting every nerve.
“Grab my neck.”
My eyes snapped open, looking up into the green fire of his gaze. I tilted my head, silently asking if I’d heard him right.
He seized my hand mid-thrust and curled it around his neck, teeth bared, muscles taut. “Claws out. Grab me tight. I want to fuck the woman who could snuff me out without thinking twice.”
His words ignited the fire in my veins. My hips lifted instinctively, grinding against him all while keeping a tight grip on his throat. My breath caught, and my whole body clenched as I cried out. Waves of pleasure pooled in my core, mingling with the wet, sloppy rhythm of our bodies, and I came so hard my eyes crossed.
His head tipped back in ecstasy. Hot, guttural moans vibrated against my grip, fighting their way through. Then, like a light had switched on, his gaze snapped back to mine, unflinching, demanding. He was determined to consume me, to break me entirely.
He hooked his arms under my thighs, lifting them up just to push them as far to the ground as they would go, stretching me so wide I thought I would split apart. Every inch of me was pulled taut, muscles straining, and the delicious ache drove stars behind my eyelids. My breath came in ragged pants, muscle pounding against muscle, and my own desire was dripping out, making a mess between us.
“We’re not done, Boss Rossey.” His mouth was stained with my blood, fangs bared, gaze searing. “I’m going to fuck this tight little pussy so hard you’ll need to be carried out.”
A shuddered whimper escaped me, a sound I’d never heard myself make. His eyes softened for the smallest moment, and myheart skipped a beat, a slice of vulnerability beneath that feral exterior. “But only for my good girl…. Will you be my good girl?”
