He read it on my face. He read it in the bond I no longer hid from. And when I saw the decision on his face, I tilted my head to the side, in invitation.
Raphael’s grip shifted. He moved his hand from mine to caress my hair, his other hand around my waist. Blistering need radiated from him. Instead of scaring me, it just made me arch for him.
He bent his head over my exposed throat, his exhale hot against my cool skin. Almost hesitant. No, not hesitating. Restraining himself. A war raged inside him.
Slowly, his fangs slid against my skin.
Just like before, there was the slightest sting of pain as the skin broke, barely more than a needle prick.
Sensation immediately bloomed across my skin, a song of desire and hot need. He drew with more restraint than I ever could have managed in his state. I moaned at the contact, curling my arms around his shoulders. In addition to my pleasure, Raphael’s radiated inside me. The rebound of his own was nearly as potent as mine, and I whimpered. His grip tightened to the edge of pain. Caught. The monster had caught me.
And I wanted him to.
We slid down to our knees, him holding me while I braced against him. Warm pleasure pooled inside me as I ached.
“Touch me,” I moaned.
His fingers trailed over my body, light touches in sharp contrast to the firm claim of his bite. But I needed more. I pulled his hand lower. With my run, I’d torn off most of the skirt, leaving just a short bit of fabric.
His fingers went right to my slick folds, coating him. I was so wet, so needful. Just the slight contact had me arching for him. He circled my entrance, and I ground against his palm, needing friction. I released his hand, my own going to my clit.
It was so good, so right. How had I ever feared this? Why had I ever denied us? “Raphael, I’m going to—”
He cut me off with a sharp suck.
I hurtled over the edge. I came like that, with his fangs in my neck, his fingers inside me.
“Fuck,” I whimpered against him.
Finally, Raphael withdrew his fangs. He licked the twin punctures, sealing the wounds with a long suck that made me want his mouth all over my body at once. Everything was fuzzy, but whether the lightheadedness was from blood loss or the orgasm that had ripped through me, I didn’t care.
It had only whetted my appetite.
Raphael’s mouth was coated in my blood, a long trail hanging from the corner of his mouth. His fangs gleamed, visible through his parted lips. Inside him, the hunger had eased—not fully slaked, but eased—enough to give way to a different carnal craving I could feel in him.
I needed him. I clutched his hair and captured his bloody lips. This kiss was nothing short of feral. I ground my hips against him, aching for more. When I nicked his tongue, there was nothing apologetic or hesitant in the way I sucked on him.Mine. I groaned against him, our bodies shifting until I was straddling him on the forest floor. His erection strained against his pants, a hard press against my center, only the scrap of fabric between us.
“Your turn to take,” he ordered. “I want my blood inside you. Always.”
I didn’t argue. I yanked his head to the side and slammed my mouth against his throat.
He hissed at the sharp move, and it wasn’t one of pain. No, pride flashed quickly through the bond as I took what I wanted. I knew exactly where to bite. Knew exactly the taste I’d find and what it would do to me.
He tasted so good. So potent. His hands were everywhere on my body, kneading, pinching, stroking.
“That’s it, viper. You feel so fucking good.”
The words sent a bolt of erotic pleasure straight into me. My center clenched, aching. I wanted to feel all of him. Without pulling my fangs away, I slid a hand down, trying to undo the closure of his pants.
“Fuck. Wicked girl.” He helped me, and I slipped a palm around him. “I’m not going to last.”
Good. I’d never touched a cock before, and had never wanted to, but now I wanted to feel every part of him. Wanted to feel him come apart for me. The skin was taut, and I gave a slow, hesitant stroke. He jerked slightly and I bit harder, displeased at him moving. He was all mine to touch. The animal in me would accept nothing less. I ran my hand up and down the length of him, reaching the rough head. A slight stickiness coated my fingers.
“Going to make me spend here,” he hissed through his teeth. “Just like that. You feel so good.”
I was drunk on every part of him: his strained voice in my ear, the way he thrust under my touch. I moved my hand faster as I grew confident. His pleasure rose along with mine.
He came with a shout, a sharp groan that was music as sweet as any I’d ever heard.
