My Blood Is Yours (The Summoning #1)

14. Sariel

SARIEL

S leep evaded me most of the night due to all my reeling thoughts. The majority of which revolved around the fact that I’ve finally united with my soulbound— all the truths and obligations before her that I am terrified to confess—and the dire question of how the fuck I can possibly get us out of here. Like how to steal back the mundrapedra from Evandriel. My mind also keeps returning to the spinning top I’d stolen from the chest on Forsythe’s bookshelf. I have no idea what it could possibly be, but based on the volume of magic radiating from it, there is no doubt something significant. Even if it had been left there, collecting dust.

Forsythe eventually shows up alone—much to my dismay—wordlessly rolling in another cart carrying only the semen collection jar and a pair of paper-thin gloves made of some kind of rubbery-looking material. A few minutes later, he returns with my mate, who looks beautiful as ever in spite of the simple linen servant’s uniform she’s wearing today.

Dark circles line Forsythe’s eyes from the lack of sleep as he gives her precise instructions on how to prevent any contamination in the semen sample. Something Evandriel hadn’t bothered with.

“Whilst wearing the gloves, you are to use your hands to manually stimulate him with this water-based lubrication. When you feel him nearing climax, position the jar over his glans as you continue to pump the shaft to ensure you capture all of the ejaculate and that nothing else contaminates the sample or the container. After the jar has been filled, keep it tightly sealed. It is magicked to preserve it. Again, I’ll return after my classes and surgeries.”

Forsythe’s expression remains cool and unreadable as his eyes dart hesitantly between Elowen and me. “If the sample is not collected properly, I will be forced to resort to drastic measures. Do you understand?”

A scowl carves my face, and my muscles flex against my restraints. One day, I will tear this male apart—limb from fucking limb. I needn’t exclaim it with easily spoken and soon-forgotten words. It will be proven in action. Forsythe’s eyes leap to mine as if he can sense my intent, and his acrid fear scent taints the air a moment later.

Without another word, he turns on his heel and locks us in the cell before moving to the mechanism connected to the chains shackling me to the fucking wall. Elowen shrieks in protest. “What are you doing?! You’re going to hurt him!”

Forsythe ignores her and continues to turn the wheel that harnesses my chains until I’m forced to stand naked as the sheet pools on the pallet of the bed beneath me. My arms and legs are splayed wide against the stone wall.

Finally, he flicks his gaze at her. “It’s for your safety, obviously. Imagine what he might do to you in an aroused state.”

Oh, so very many depraved things.

Elowen’s face hardens, but she remains silent. And at that, Forsythe takes his leave.

As twisted as it is, excitement and desire pool in my gut as his footsteps recede, and Elowen and I are left alone again. She rushes to my side, her cool, delicate hands sliding over the too-hot flesh of my abdomen as she stares up at me with wide, concerned eyes. “Are you ok?”

Between her blatant affection, her touch, and being put entirely at her mercy, my cock is already heavy and aching for her ministrations. “Better now that you’re here.”

Elowen gasps as she feels the weight of my hardening length pressing against her. Eyes alight with surprise, a wry smile tilts her parted lips.

“You are a naughty boy, aren’t you?”

I fail to stifle my groan as my head tips back briefly against the stone surface behind me before my gaze snaps back to hers—unwilling to miss a single look on her beautiful face.

“For you, love, I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

Elowen’s arousal perfumes the air as her breath catches, a heady mélange of desire and anticipation twinkling in her doe eyes. Ripe with so much earnest want, tenderness, and affection.

It makes me want to tell her everything.

While she knows I’m her soulbound, I haven’t had a chance to tell her about the demands of the bond—something that would make her part daemoness; that it will change her appearance to an unforeseeable degree; that she will need to consume blood at least once every handful of days; that her lifespan will not only be extended by potentially thousands of years but that it will directly be tied with mine; that my parents are the royal archdaemons; the fact that accepting our bond and marrying me, would make her a princess, and quite possibly, one day a queen if we can’t find my brother, the previously destined heir to my mother’s throne; and that she will be expected to provide an heir.

It’s such an understandably overwhelming set of expectations and responsibilities that I can’t help but shudder to imagine her reaction. Guilt gnaws at my chest, but there hasn’t yet been any opportune moment to have such a heavy discussion.

Before I can linger on it any further, she turns towards the cart, pulling it towards me. All thoughts of responsible conversations flee. My cock twitches when she turns to me, suddenly looking a little sheepish. “Do you… have any requests?”

Fuck me, she looks so sweet it makes me yearn to defile her.

Instead of admitting that, my head tilts in question. “Requests?”

She nods, nervously biting on her plump lower lip.

“Is there any way that I can make this more comfortable or easier for you?”

My heart trills even as my cock hardens to the point of pain. I hadn’t even considered it, but now my imagination is bursting with ideas. With a thoughtful hum, I deliberate our best options. “I want you to kneel at my feet and tease your nipples with the arousal dripping from cock…”

My eyes dip to the bed pallet at my feet. “Spread this sheet out so you can lie down, and then I want you to play with that pretty little pussy until you cum.”