When she finally succumbs, when her little fangs pierce my skin and she takes that first needy drink, the pleasure that courses through my body is just as exquisite as before.
I don’t expect the moan that leaves me on a gasping breath, or the way I fist her hair and draw her yet closer. I don’t expect to grip the bed’s wooden head frame, or the moment when she straddles me for better access. I don’t expect to feel vulnerable beneath her, either. But right now, just like I felt in the reading room, I am the prey, captured by a little bird who grew teeth.
And I want her to have me. To take me. To drink me down until there is nothing left.
When she eventually stops, I’m amazed I can feel her fangs retracting from my body. It isn’t painful. It feels as sensual as a tongue slipping past plump lips.
I slide my hands down her back to the full curves of her ass as she kisses my throat, flicking her tongue over the hollow there, then the knot that bobs at her perusal.
“Please, Neri?” she whispers, her voice rough with desire.
Everything inside me lurches at the sound of her finally speaking my name, and my entire being wants to answer my siren’s pleading call.
But I’m uncertain. Feeding has an arousing effect. Does she really want this? Want me? Or is it just a blood lure?
“Nephele.” Her name leaves my lips as though I’ve ached to utter it for a thousand years. “I’m not sure you know what you’re saying, little bird.”
“I do.” Her soft words brush against the shell of my ear. “I want you begging me to fuck you. Begging me to never stop. I want to make you feel so good it hurts.”
I tighten my grip on her ass as she rubs against my cock. “I’ve never felt so conflicted. I want you, Nephele. Fucking stars and saints, I want you. But I want you to be—”
“Sure? Look at you, so noble,” she says with a smile. “I am sure. I wanted you before all of this, Neri. I wanted you when you were in my room at Fia’s palace. And even before. I think I would want you in any form.Youare what makes me mindless. Not the blood. The blood only makes what I feel that much more intense.”
As much as I love hearing that, I still open my mouth to say something that she clearly doesn’t want to hear, because she shuts me up with another kiss, one that’s deep and hungered, the kind of kiss that erases every worry and thought, our problems extinguished by the fire between us.
I fall into Nephele Bloodgood like I’ve fallen into the vastest of all darknesses, lost and untethered and a little… scared. Not of what she might do to me physically, but what every second in this cabin with her is doing to me emotionally.
Because I can’t resist her, even when I fear I should. Even when I know she’s about to change me in yet another unfathomable way.
Instead, I shift my hips for her and let her begin the slow journey of working her pussy down my cock. Staring deep into my eyes, one hand gripping my shoulder, she gasps roughly at the feel of my broad head entering her body.
I reach for her, slipping my hand across the back of her delicate neck and draw her down into a kiss. “You asked for this, little bird,” I whisper against her mouth. “Now hurt me.”
I let go then. I let go and let her be the first to claim, to grant her that power over me, the God of the North who now worships at a witch’s feet.
We move together in the fire lit darkness, smothering our devotion and our cries in a kiss that swears to steal what remains of my cursed soul as she rocks and rocks, arching her body just so, the friction enough to edge me to the precipice of bliss.
Her lips are red as wine now, her nipples hard as pebbles, I crash my mouth to both, devouring as she fucks me with relentless abandon, taking me harder, faster, deeper—so deep I know it hurts.
But if it does, she doesn’t care. It only fuels her need, her hands clawing at my scalp, fisting in my hair as I give in and start pumping into her with long, brutal thrusts, meeting her every descent with an assault that jolts her entire body.
I slip my hand over her hip and touch her where I know she wants to be touched. She showed me, and I can give her that.
I push a single fingertip into her tight, puckered hole, and she shudders from the sensation, gasping and begging, fucking until I can feel us both nearing the line of no return. I inch back from it, just for a moment, and seize her lovely hair in my clenched hand, holding her trapped, pinned by my fist, my finger, and my cock.
“Look at me,” I tell her, and she does, a plea in those stunning eyes.
And I destroy her. Destroyus. Pounding into her, that tender white throat bared for me, that pulsing vein thumping.
I drag her to my mouth and bite gently, just enough to fill her blood with blinding euphoria, to drive her mad when we finally break.
The cry that rips from her chest when I carry her to orgasm is a living thing set free in the night. Again, she begs and pleads and so do I—never stop, don’t stop, fuck me, please fuck me—and I do. We do.
For the longest minutes, she endures her orgasm and mine, my swollen cock throbbing with every long spurt of cum into her body, her pussy clenching tight with each load until we are both trembling from the aftershocks, finally spent and drained of months of yearning.
We lie side by side, coming down from the high of it all, her shaking, me caressing.
When she stills, I push up on the small bed and lift her knee. She eyes me curiously but then realizes what I need. I have him tamed, but the wolf in me marks his mate, and I need to see it, need to see myself in her.
