Page 125 of The Vespertine Treaty

I fucked her mouth, snapping my hips forward, needing to feel her choke, needing to feel her surrender. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

I pulled away, ignoring her whimper of loss. I hauled her up and threw her onto the dresser, sweeping the rest of the objects onto the floor.

I reached for the red candle burning on the nightstand. The wax was pooling, hot and dark.

"Open your legs," I commanded.

She did, spreading wide for me. Her back arched, pushing her breasts forward. They were pale, perfect, heaving with her breath.

I tilted the candle.

Hot, bloody wax dripped onto her breast. She hissed, curling her back more, her eyes rolling back in her head.

"Does it hurt?" I asked, watching the crimson wax harden on her pale skin.

"Yes, do it again,” she gasped.

"Good."

I leaned down and bit her. Right over the nipple. Hard enough to break the skin.

She screamed, a shattered, beautiful sound. I tasted copper. Blood. Her life force.

I licked the droplet of blood from her skin, swirling my tongue over the wound, soothing the sting I had created. The taste sent a jolt of power straight to my core. It was intoxicating. It was primal.

"You bleed for me," I whispered against her skin, my voice thick with madness. "You will only ever bleed for me."

I couldn't wait anymore. I grabbed her hips, my fingers digging into her flesh hard enough to bruise.

I thrust into her.

It was a single, smooth, devastating motion. I buried myself to the hilt, stretching her, claiming her.

She cried out, her nails digging into my shoulders. "Cain!"

I began to move, pounding into her with a ferocity that shook the heavy furniture. I wasn't making love. I was exorcising the demons in us both. I was trying to merge our souls so I wouldn't have to be alone in my own head anymore.

"Look at me!" I roared, grabbing her face, forcing her to look at the male destroying her resolution.

She met my gaze, her eyes fierce, filled with tears and fire.

"Harder," she begged. “You can’t break me, Cain. So do it."

That permission snapped the last tether.

I drove into her, punishing and worshipping her all at once. I felt her internal muscles clamping down on me, tightening, milking me. She was choking me with her body, feeling she was close.

"I have you," I snarled, sweat dripping from my brow onto her chest. "You are mine. You hear me? You are mine."

She shattered around me, her scream echoing through the room. The force of her orgasm triggered mine.

I threw my head back, a sound tearing from my throat as I poured myself into her. I emptied every ounce of my madness, my fear, and my twisted, impossible love into the only vessel I prayed was strong enough to hold it.

We collapsed against each other, breathing raggedly, the smell of sex, brandy, and petrichor filling the air.

I kept her pinned there, my face buried in her neck, my heart hammering against hers.

But the quiet didn't last. The need clawed its way back up my throat, ravenous and unsatisfied. I had claimed her body, but I hadn't consumed her. Not yet.