I pulled on his head again and sighed in relief when he kissed my neck, when I felt the tips of his fangs press into me, though he didn’t break my skin.
“Don’t you want it too?” I whispered.
“Always,” he growled. “Missed you,sasiral.”
“I’m here,” I said, but the word ended on a gasp when I felt the familiar pinch of his fangs. The heat of his venom flooded into the small wound, and the ache between my thighs became a violent need.
Reaching behind me, I tugged at the laces of his pants. While I was in a sleeping tunic—one that slipped easily up my thighs, leaving me bare—he was still fully clothed from the night before. It had to be uncomfortable. He groaned when my hand found his hot, hard cock, and he further stiffened in my grip, pulsing when I squeezed.
He was too lost in the feeding. It had been over a week since his last, when he had fed from me a couple times, if not more, a day. He wasstarvedfor me, and he was greedy.
“Yes, Kythel,” I breathed. “Take everything you need.”
I want to be everything you need,I thought.
His grip tightened around me, beginning to lose control. When his wing came over my body, enveloping us, I knew some deep-rooted instinct within him was fearful I would try to wiggle away.
I lifted my thigh, feeling a dizzying wave of pleasure spiral up my core, my clit pulsing wildly. The heat of his cock was searing as I pressed the broad head to my pussy. A guttural groan reverberated up his throat, vibrating against the column of my neck, as I sank down on him, holding him inside.
It wasn’t so much about the sex. It wasn’t about the pleasure I knew I would find in his bite, in his touch, in his kiss. It wasthis. It was about feeling connected to him when we had been apart and distant for so long. Azur was right—it was about the bond, thekyranabond.
When his cock slid as deep as his fangs, I cried out, bucking against him.Sublime,I thought. The thickly corded arm under my waist slid up, cradling my head against him. His hair tangled with mine. His left wing felt like a comforting weight on top of me. All around me, I could smell his spicy, musky scent. I could feel his heartbeat thundering at my back. I could hear his quick gasps and the erotic slide of his tongue as he lapped at my blood.
Perfection.
“I love you,” I gasped out. Kythel’s breath hitched, his hips never stilling as he thrust between my thighs. “I love you, Kythel.”
Our lovemaking felt slow and endless, and yet we both came in quick succession, the room filled with our cries and groans as we both rushed to the peak. The heat of come inside me was familiar, as was the burn of his knot when Kythel thrust particularly deep, seating himself until every drop of him was sealed in.
Helplessly, I groaned when his hips never stopped, the stimulating rub of his knot almosttoo much.
“Kythel,” I gasped.
Finally, he ceased. His fangs retreated, though he continued to lick the wound at my neck, and I slumped in his arms, boneless and sated. He was still clasping me tight to him, as if afraid I’d leave.
The sweat was drying on my skin, the sensation cooling. The erotic stroke of his tongue was making me flutter around his knot, and when his cock finally slipped from me, long moments later, Kythel finally healed the wound on my neck.
I could feel his strength returning. His muscles growing, the tendons running down his arms and lengths hardening like steel. I stroked my fingertips over whatever flesh I could reach as he shuddered against me, his breaths still coming fast. But I knew it must feel like a relief. Because it felt like a relief tome.
Turning in his arms, I locked eyes with my mate for the first time that morning.
“You don’t feel real,” he murmured, voice dazed in disbelief. I was relieved to see the lines around his eyes from his exhaustion had disappeared. He’d needed the sleep. He’d needed my blood.
Leaning forward, I pressed my lips to his, soft and slow. I tasted my blood on his tongue, but it wasn’t unpleasant, just a reality of being mated to a Kylorr.
“You came here last night?” he murmured. “But how…”
“Azur brought me.”
“Azur?” he asked, incredulous. “Is he still here?”
“No, he left last night. He came to Grace’s cottage. He wanted to talk, and afterward, I asked him to bring me here.”
“What did you talk about?” he asked softly, intensely curious, his gaze piercing.
“Nothing I didn’t already know myself,” I said, sighing. The comfort and safety I felt in his arms…I’d missed this.
He tensed. “And what is that?”
