Page 69 of Blood of the Fairest

Whatever she is doing to me, already I would gladly let it consume me.

The throbbing in both my chest and my cock becomes so intense that I stumble until my back is against the alcove wall. The motion accidentally dislodges Verena's mouth from my arm.

At once, my hands circle her waist. I pull her closer in a silent protest of the loss of this indescribable sensation—but already, she is rising onto her tiptoes.

Her tantalizing body presses against my eager one. Her warm breath fans over my neck. The pounding of my heart is a ceremonial drum, counting down impatiently as I tilt my head to give her better access.

My ragged breathing quickens as Verena's lips seal over the side of my neck. She sucks the skin harshly there for a long moment. I am gripping her waist too tightly now, my hips tilting forward too urgently as I wait for her to feed.

Her sharp teeth nearly find their mark—but before she can truly draw blood, she rips herself away with a horrified gasp.

No.

I am so mad with lust that when she presses her hands to my chest, attempting to push away from me, I forget to release my tight grip around her.

"Why did you stop?" I barely recognize my own frustrated rasp.

Her scent is still dancing about me, pulling me closer until my lips graze her temple.

"Let me go," Verena orders.

I obey at once. Both because I cannot disobey and because there is a hint of fear in her tone, reminding me of all I've done.

I watch as she takes three strides backward until her back is pressed against the opposite stone wall of the alcove. The new distance between us mocks the ache in my pants.

I cannot pull my gaze away from the rise and fall of her breasts near the neckline of her gown as she draws deep, measured breaths.

"Verena," the reflection ghost prompts. "That wasn't enough. You need more⁠—"

"Please just shut up, Eris."

When she speaks, I glimpse sharpened points on a couple of her teeth, almost like the fangs of a dog. Her eyes are closed, her lips and chin smeared with my blood. She is morbidly striking, her beautiful red hair pouring over her shoulders, tapering off near her waist.

"Get a grip," she whispers to herself, struggling with something unseen. "You can't just go around chomping on hot, scary Vikings. Especially if it makes them horny. This is so fucking messed up."

Am I a Viking? I have never heard this term before.

"Feeding always has that effect, but your thirst is what matters right now. Drink more," Eris insists.

She shakes her head, appearing pained as she swallows. She reaches up to rub her teeth, which suddenly appear as human as they did before.

Lust still clouds my thoughts, but I ignore it to speak truthfully. "My lifeblood is just as sworn to you as I am. If you thirst, take what you desire from me."

"Cut it out," Verena scowls, looking between the reflection and me in disbelief. "Why are you both making this even harder on me? I already drank some, so I'm good. I don't want to be this fucked-up vampire witch monster thing, so—Wulf, pinch me."

I'm already stepping forward, compelled to obey. But I dig in my feet and fight to resist, jaw clenching.

"What? No. I will not harm you ever again."

"I'm a grown-ass woman. I can handle a pinch, and I just need something to help me snap out of it." She holds out an arm. "Make it hard."

"No," I snarl, but it's too late.

The pledge I swore has already forced my fingers to grip her skin, pinching and twisting it enough that Verena jolts, grimacing.

I immediately rip my hand back, swearing in Hjemic.

She exhales slowly, nodding and rubbing her reddened arm. "Okay. Good. I'm not just thinking about tearing into your neck to get another hit anymore. That's progress."