Page 79 of Given to the Black King

She rocks down once, hard.

I come inside her.

The swelling pulses at her entrance. My release comes in several heavy surges while she holds my mouth exactly where the hunger wants it and refuses to give it the one act she has not chosen.

It is enough to keep my fangs out of my own flesh.

When the last pulse passes, she loosens her arms.

I lift my head.

Iona is breathing hard. Sweat shines along her throat. The claw lines on her ribs are red and raised.

“No blood,” she says.

“No.”

“Did it help?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“More than the yard. More than the strap.”

She nods, thinking.

I am still thick inside her. She tries to shift and winces.

“Do not move yet,” I say.

“I know.”

She leans her forehead against mine while the swelling eases. I check every claw line with my fingertips. Red. Unbroken. Exactly as she asked.

She watches my face.

“I like them.”

“I nearly cut you.”

“But you stopped when I asked.” She touches the unbroken red line with one fingertip. “That is the part I trust.”

I do not have an answer.

When I soften enough, she lifts herself off me slowly. The ring catches at her entrance and pulls a small shudder from her.

She lies against my side.

I start to rise.

Her hand closes around my wrist.

“Where?”

“Water. Cloth. Salve.”

“That is permitted.”