Page 123 of Her Vampire, His Ruin

We kiss and kiss, tongues duelling, hips rocking, hands searching. My heart thumps against my ribcage, a reminder of how delicate, how dangerous this moment is, but I don’t care. I want to chase the pleasure. I want his bite, his ferocity, his kisses, his rock-hard cock. Rightly or wrongly, I want to build this connection between us. I don’t know what that means or what the future holds for us, but at this moment, right now, I just need him. All of him, the vampire and the man.

Rearing upwards, Dorian reaches for my top, ripping it apart until my breasts are exposed, cooler air coasts over my nipples, hardening them further. Then he lowers his mouth to the mound of my breast and bites.

“Dorian,” I scream, writhing beneath him in ecstasy.

He pulls back, licking at the blood seeping from my skin, then he moves to the other breast, biting me there. My clit spasms, a rush of heat thundering through my body, making my back arch and my legs shake as he drinks my blood.

“Please,” I cry as he rips his mouth from my skin and shifts lower, grasps the soft flesh of my stomach, and bites.

He snarls and snaps, feral in his bloodlust as he withdraws his teeth, impaling them over and over again into my flesh. He bites the soft underside of my arm, my hips, beneath my rib cage, my lower abdomen, and with every bite, more pleasure floods through me until my eyes roll in the back of my head and my body gives itself over to him completely. I don’t recognise the sounds coming out of my mouth. I don’t recognise this woman who has cast all sense of self-preservation aside. I’m merely a vessel for him to use, to pleasure, to feed from.

“I can’t fucking stop,” he cries, rearing upwards and pulls down my pyjama bottoms, throwing them across the room.

I don’t get a chance to respond because he shoves my legs apart, his fingers curling into the tops of my thighs, then buries his teeth in the mound of my pussy right above my clit.

A scream rips from my throat, though not from pain, but intense, mind-bending pleasure. And when his tongue laps at my pussy, flicking over my clit, I detonate. My orgasm rips through me, shredding me apart like a cyclone. Cum gushes from my core as my back arches and my heels dig into the floorboards. But this feeling of rapture is nothing compared to the moment when he snaps his head up, shoves his trousers past his hips and impales me on his cock.

Another scream shreds me apart as he drives into me with one hard thrust, filling me up so completely another orgasm builds on the back of the first. I don’t know how long we fuck for, but with every thrust of his hips, I lose all sense of time. I’m lost in the blazing heat of his desire, to unimaginable pleasure.

“Edie, come for me. Come with me,” he commands, his hands cupping the top of my head as he pounds into me. His muscles ripple with power, with virility, his veins stark beneath his skin.

Our gazes clash, and I have never, ever felt such a powerful connection.

My hands grasp at his arse, my fingernails digging into his flesh, drawing blood. I want to shred him apart, just like he’s shredding me apart. Dorian snarls, withdrawing from me but before I can complain, let alone release a breath, he’s flipped me over onto my front and shoved his thick cock back inside me. Then he grasps a handful of hair, tugging my head off the ground as he fucks me. My pelvis is pressed into the floor, and with every driving motion of his hips, my clit swells, pleasure shooting through my body. I’m drenched, fucking soaked, the sounds of our arousal lifting up into the air, flooding the room with the symphony of our brutal fucking.

When he drags me upwards onto my knees, his arm cinching my waist and anchoring me to him, his cock still buried inside of me, a pitiful howl parts his lips before he wrenches my head to the side and bites.

I come the second his fangs pierce my flesh.

I come so hard I’m nothing more than a blazing comet ripping through the night sky.

My internal muscles strangle his cock as he pumps his release inside of me.

And then the lights are snuffed out, and I slip beneath the darkness.

I wake up in Dorian’s bedroom, the lamp’s glare stabbing at my eyes. A groan escapes my lips, my pulse sluggish, reminding me of the blood I’ve lost. When I try to sit up, the world tilts, and I groan, falling back onto the bed. The thin cotton sheet covering my body feels leaden.

“Easy now, don’t try to move. You’ve lost too much blood.”

“Viktor?” I croak, every muscle in my body aching from the effort of that brief movement.

“You’re okay,” he soothes, resting his hand on my arm. “Keep still. You have a cannula in your arm.”

“A cannula?” I feel it then, the throb of something foreign at the crook of my elbow, the connecting tube filled with blood that slowly drips from a bag hanging from an IV pole.

“I’m giving you a transfusion. You’ve lost a significant amount of blood. You’ll feel weak for the next few hours, but you’ll survive.”

“What happened?” I whisper, a tremor wracking my body.

“Dorian almost drained you.” Pity flickers in his eyes, and I hate it. “He was in the throes of bloodlust. I stopped him before he could.”

“You stopped him?”

“I did.”

“Why?”

He frowns, shifting forward in his seat. “You wanted to die?”