Page 66 of Given to the Black King

His back teeth close.

Then he thrusts again.

The safe bite sends one clean edge of pain through the fullness. His next drive catches the ridges deep inside me, and my body gives way around both.

I come with his back teeth in my shoulder and his cock buried to the root. The first contraction locks my hips against him. The second ripples the whole length of him inside me. I cannot move away from the pressure, and I do not want to. His hand tightens below my breasts while the orgasm keeps closing around him in hard, wet pulses.

He feels it. His control breaks in my name.

At the last second he tears his mouth away.

His fangs drive into his right forearm.

Blood runs over his wrist and onto my breast.

He comes inside me with a violent shudder. His body pulses thickly at my entrance, slowing every involuntary movement. His release comes in several heavy spurts, hotter than I expect, each one accompanied by another clench of his body and another crack from the headboard.

We stay locked together, both of us shaking.

Then he withdraws his fangs from his arm.

The punctures bleed freely.

I twist my shoulders in his hold, keeping my hips still around the thick root. “Give me that.”

“It closes quickly.”

“Give it to me.”

He holds out his arm.

I press the sheet to the wounds. His blood is nearly black in the firelight.

He is still inside me, the partial swell easing slowly enough that neither of us can separate immediately without hurting me.

“Wait,” he says when I shift.

“I wasn’t trying to escape.”

“The base is still thick.”

I feel it clearly now. Not a lock. A heavy fullness that makes the smallest movement drag the ridges through me again.

My body tightens.

He groans.

“Do not do that.”

“I did not do it deliberately.”

“You are pleased.”

“Yes.”

His forehead drops to my shoulder.

We remain joined while the swelling eases. I tend the wounds on his arm. He strokes my hip with the flat pads of his fingers, claws forced away.