Page 122 of Her Vampire, His Ruin

“So help me, Dorian, if you don’t die, I’ll kill you myself,” she shouts, and so I do what I vowed I wouldn’t do again. I pierce her flesh and feast on her blood.

Chapter 27

Edie

Agony, sharper than I experienced before, sears through me, yet I clench my jaw and anchor Dorian close.

If he can endure this suffering, then so can I.

Dorian’s throat unleashes guttural animal sounds. He grunts and snarls, his chest vibrating with every greedy swallow as he drinks. I hold him against me, cradling his head, but as I weaken through blood loss, he strengthens. The bone jutting from his arm snaps back into place; the skin sealing around the wound it made. Using that arm to cup the back of my head, his healed fingers curl into my hair, pinning me in place. As his fangs slide deeper, shadows press at the edge of my vision and I drag air into my lungs, refusing to go under, fighting against the darkness.

A darkness that ebbs and flows, punctuated by the first tendrils of pleasure. Bliss slowly spreads through my body, smothering the pain of his bite. It trickles through my veins like rolling heat, coasting over my skin like a thousand massaging fingers. My nipples harden, my breath eases from between my lips like a soft caress as heat blooms in my core.

“Dorian…” I moan.

A rumble rises up his chest, and I feel it vibrate through me as he twists me in his arms until I’m on my back, the weight of his body pressing me into the hardwood floor. He shifts between my legs, his cock rigid between us. The metallic scent of my blood mingles with his, and I feel the dampness of his blood seeping into my cotton tank.

My arms fall limply to my sides as I melt into the floor beneath him, my eyes wandering to the mural where the colours pulse with new intensity. Sounds and scents bloom in my mind as sunlight glides across my skin, gentle and golden. The distant cry of a seagull floats above the cliffs, mingling with the briny air and the sharp, iron scent of our blood.

It’s bliss. Utter, all-consuming bliss.

I judder beneath him, my legs slipping wider as he grinds his cock against my core. My moans lift into the air, my breath caught in my lungs as my eyelids droop. I hover in this moment of spaced-out bliss, feeling everything all at once. I feel his body pressed against mine, his lips sucking my skin. I hear the soft woosh of my pulse, and the greedy moans as he drinks my blood. I taste the sharp bite of metal in the back of my throat as I bite down on my tongue, smelling it in the air around us. I see the mural blur in a wash of colour as tears leak from my eyes.

All of my senses are heightened, yet my body is limp, relaxed.

I don’t feel pain, only pleasure.

Intense, overwhelming, bone-melting pleasure.

After a while, the deep pulls from my neck lessen, and I feel Dorian’s teeth slip from my flesh as he rises above me. His hands cup my head. “Look at me, Edie,” he commands, his voice laced with lust, his crimson-flooded eyes drilling into me.

Slowly, I blink up at him, his face inches from mine. I don’t feel fear, only intense need.

“Kiss me,” I whisper, lifting a shaky hand to his face. My fingers coast over his brow, drifting over his beautiful face, before sliding into his hair. “I want you to kiss me.”

“You’re too weak. I’ve taken too much… I want more,” he admits.

His lips and teeth are painted crimson, my blood staining them.

“I want you inside of me. Please, Dorian,” I beg.

“If I fuck you, I might not be able to stop.”

I don’t know how much blood he’s taken. I have no idea whether it was too much for my body to handle, or not enough to heal him completely, but I don’t want this bliss to end. I know I should be putting space between us. I should be asking him about what happened, why his body literally broke before my eyes. I should be demanding why feeling anything towards me causes him such inexplicable torture, but I can’t seem to bring myself to do that. All I know is I want him inside of me. I want his fangs buried in my flesh. I want to come.

“Are you fully healed?” I ask, my hips rolling beneath his.

He groans, his cock rubbing over my clit, drawing out so much pleasure I shudder beneath him. I’m so close already.

“Not fully, no,” he replies.

“Then take more. I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Just kiss me. Fuck me, Dorian. I want you. I want this.”

He presses his eyes shut, his body trembling against mine as a war wages within him, his expression a battlefield. So, I make the decision for him and lift my head, slamming my lips against his, swiping my tongue into his mouth, tasting my blood as he kisses me back with a groan.