He rubs his length between my lips again, making himself even wetter as he straddles my sides, pressing my breasts together.
“You spoil me, witch,” he says.
I don’t even have a retort; I feel boneless, fucked out of my mind. Somehow, I still get even more turned on watching him. I doubt any of this is normal. Our need for each other is driven by this deep, soul binding connection few others could understand.
“You’re so beautiful, so lovely. I love every inch of you,” he says, and I blink at him. He said my body, not me. Yet, I feel everything else he’s not saying.
I love him.
I really fucking do.
Maybe it’s not the most romantic moment to realize this, but I wonder if Warin is thinking about it too as he holds my large breasts together, sliding his cock between them.
His thumbs rub my nipples as he thrusts back and forth, the head of his dick lost in my voluptuous chest.
“Are you going to mark me with your cum, War?” I ask him, knowing how me calling him his nickname drives him crazy.
“Fuck,” he hisses out, his hips going faster than any human man could fathom.
I help him, taking over, pushing myself together as he grabs the headboard. His gaze fluctuating from where he’s fucking me to my face.
The headboard makes a loud cracking noise as he pants over me, pulling out between my flesh and fisting his cock. Ropes of cum splatter against my breasts and Warin’s eyes devour my body as he makes yet another claim on me.
When he’s spent, he looks down at his work for a moment, a masculine sense of pride and a grin on his face, before he shifts his body, his tongue lapping up some of his mess before his mouth meets mine.
I swallow down his taste as we kiss. When he pulls back, he looks almost as spent as me. That’s a lie, I’m pretty sure he could go like five more rounds.
“You might have fucked the memories of tonight out of me, but I still need sleep,” I say.
Warin smiles, with that slight fang smile I used to think was him being a smug asshole, that I now find endlessly charming.
“Be right back,” he says.
He’s back quickly with a warm washcloth. He starts by cleaning off my chest. He’s thorough, overly so. Before sliding it down my body, delicately cleaning the rest of me.
Warin adjusts the blankets, shifting us so we’re both covered.
He cradles himself behind me. “Too cold?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“No, just right,” I tell him.
The words I love you, goodnight sit on the edge of my tongue, but I let my eyes close. I let go of all the bad memories of the night and cling to all of the amazing ones instead.
Warin and I have spent days in New Orleans, fucking, drinking, and for me, eating amazing food that Warin has delivered to the house.
It’s been magical.
The idea of slipping back to reality is a tough one, I have to face everything that happens now.
Sure, Iris and Violet have accepted me. The fairies and Gus have made peace with my decision. Hell, a big portion of our coven is progressive, but unfortunately, that doesn’t include some of my family. Not to mention the fact that I have a big decision to make.
Do I let Warin change me? Do I leave everything I know behind? Would I be happy as a vampire, even if that meant forever with Warin?
Warin grabs my thigh in the backseat. Achille came to pick us up and bring us home.
“Do you need some time at your cottage?” he asks.
