Page 94 of Blood of the Fairest

With that in mind, I kiss her again fiercely before speaking against her lips.

"Tell me not to be a beast with you. Order me to fuck you gently."

Verena's breathing catches.

With a speed that rivals the northern winds, she slides out from under me, simultaneously grabbing a nearby sheet. She covers herself and takes a big step away from the bed.

"Whoa, no," she shakes her head rapidly. “No, no, no. No."

Five no's is an improvement over the previous six.

Still, her frantic words are an arrow to my eager, racing heart. The pain is immediate as I wonder suddenly if, even now, this bewitching woman fears me to some degree.

But Verena huffs and begins pacing.

"No. You are absolutely not riding a big, sexy Viking today, no matter how fuckable he is and no matter how delicious he tastes. Get a grip, you slut-faced ho-bag."

I realize Verena is speaking to herself before she turns toward me with a deep breath. It is gratifying that she can't keep her gaze off my still-hard cock, nor can she seem to ignore the red dripping from my shoulder and neck.

Yet she forces herself to look at my eyes.

"I'm not going to order you to do anything. And we're not fucking, because you're magically indentured to me. That would be an abuse of power."

"I willingly gave you the power you hold over me," I remind her, moving from the bed to stand.

Verena has to tip her head back to meet my eye, but her blue gaze swings below my waist again briefly. When my bloody neck draws her attention once more, she pinches herself and grows more determined.

"Wulf. I already lost control and drank a lot of your blood."

"I enjoyed it."

"Yeah, I got that from the WMD you're swinging around, but that's bad."

"What makes it bad?" I challenge, longing for the warm buzz her feeding brings. "Anything you want, I more than willingly consent to give."

Verena groans, tossing damp, tangled red hair out of her face.

"Look—you're clearly a man of morals, so just imagine if our roles were reversed. Let's pretend I'm the one magically compelled to do everything you say. Would you feel comfortable hopping into bed with me, even if I asked you to order me around? What if in the heat of the moment, you gave me an order to do something I didn't actually want to do?"

The thought of taking pleasure from Verena without her true choice in the matter sickens my stomach at once.

Although she is a sight to behold, so flushed with scarlet drying on her neck, I manage to look away. The weight of her words presses against my throat.

"I would not live with myself if that happened," I admit.

For a moment, we are both quiet. Eris also says nothing, though I sense him still watching from the mirror. Were I in his place, I doubt I could have made myself look away from Verena in all her naked perfection, either.

Before I can suggest that she let me satisfy her repeatedly without orders to harness the infernal hunger I have for her, Verena takes a deep breath to speak.

Then she groans, covering her nose and mouth.

"Holy shit, it's just not fair how good you smell. You standing there looking all fuckable and suckable is seriously hindering whatever self-control I'm trying to scrape together over here. Please get dressed and bandage your arms and neck."

Her polite order has me redressing at once. I ignore the stiffness of my still-excited cock as I tie my trousers and rebind my arms. Then I rip off a piece of the bindings to dab at my lightly bleeding neck.

The desire roaring through my veins begins to slow, yet I know it will never fully fade when I am near Verena.

I notice her reaching up to feel the small cut on her chin. It is barely bleeding now, but her brow furrows.