I pull back and reach for him, needing to kiss him. He’s there before I even finish the thought, his tongue spearing into my mouth with a dominant stroke I feel all the way to my toes.
Then his tail begins to move, and my grasp on reality fades. All I can do is feel. Experience.Survive.
His palm finds my breast, his thumb teasing my nipple and sending sparks through my system. I’m on fire. Burning away to ash.Needing him to help me fly.
“Please,” I whisper against his mouth, not sure what I desire, but knowing I need more. “Please, Ciprian.”
He kisses a path down my neck as his fingers unfasten the buttons of my shirt. I almost forgot I was wearing it since my lower half is so openly exposed. But now I feel the fabricbunched around my hips. However, it lessens as he pulls the material apart to expose my breasts.
I shiver, then gasp as he seals his mouth around one stiff peak. Two sharp points press against my sensitive skin but don’t break the surface. It’s a tease. A request.An insane need.
All I can do is say “Yes.” I want to feel him bite me. Mark me.Drink from me…
He takes hold of my nipple and sinks his fangs into my flesh.
I scream, the pinch sending me spiraling into a whirlwind of dark oblivion, one that refuses to end as hefeasts.
I can’t tell if I’m awake or dreaming. It feels too fantastic to be real. But as he releases my breast to move to the other, I catch glimpses of his room, the setting grounding me for a blink before he bites my opposite peak and begins to drink again.
He’s marking me. Feeding from me.Making me his…
And his tail is moving inside me, forcing me to take more, going deeper, thickening,preparing mefor his cock. I can sense the intention, and I’m not mad about it.
I should be.
God, our last conversation… I was too exhausted by my mental state to consider everything he was saying. I asked for a moment of space and fell asleep. In his bed. I barely remember it.
How long was I asleep?
Almost fifteen hours, he replies into my thoughts, reminding me that we’re mentally linked.
We’re bound together by blood, fated to possibly become mates.
If I can pass the trials.
He explained Strigoi culture and expectations to me, telling me how they test potential candidates for the Strigoi King.
I’m the first potential candidate.
The first human he’s ever desired.
“What about a Strigoi female? Can she become a Strigoi Queen?” I asked him yesterday.
“Only if she’s born royal.” He cupped my cheek then as he added, “If our firstborn is female, then she will one day become a Strigoi Queen, and she will take a human as a mate. That mortal would go through trials, too.”
I shiver, recalling other things he told me.
Like how Strigoi only take humans as mates. And pairings are not always male-female, either.
“I’ve tested men,” he informed me. “There’s something about their scent, though, that never appealed to me. So I primarily focused on women in my hunt for an intended. However, no one intrigued me… until you.”
It’s romantic in a way. Scary in another.
Because I’m the first and only mortal in over a thousand years that he’s wanted more than blood from.
The way he’s drinking from me now confirms how starved he is for companionship. His tail is so deep in me that I swear I feel the tip in my stomach.
I don’t, but… but it’s… it’s intense.
