Willing (The Un #1)

17. Chloe

Seventeen

Chloe

Carrying me into a dark room, Asher slams the door shut behind him and pauses.

His arms tighten around me, and time seems to come to a standstill.

My eyes strain to see, see the beautiful face in front of me. I just want one more look. One more look before my mortal existence is torn from me.

If his face is the only thing I can see for the rest of my life, I’ll die happy.

I’ll die not knowing what’s being done to me.

My soul shivers at the thought, but it’s true.

After everything I’ve been through, I just want to gaze upon his face. To become truly lost. So lost, I don’t see what’s to come.

Since the moment Asher wrapped me up in his arms, I’ve been drifting in and out of a heavy fog.

A fog that’s quickly fading.

The Order told me vampires couldn’t enthrall me, that I was protected from being beguiled, but that’s not completely true.

I don’t know what it is, if it’s the mark itself or simply him , but whenever our eyes meet I’m utterly bewitched.

Under his spell.

At his mercy.

Weak .

“Chloe,” he says softly, my name heavy with emotion.

The sound of his voice hurts so much it brings tears to my eyes.

A hand touches my face, nudging my chin up.

My eyes start to adjust to the light. The outline of his face becomes clearer, and my heart quickens in anticipation.

Oblivion is within reach.

Asher’s chest rises, pressing against me.

He’s firm and hard everywhere I’m soft.

He takes a breath, a breath he doesn’t need.

Then he shudders and growls. “Forgive me.”

The growl is low and vicious, sending snakes of apprehension slithering down my spine.

The beast is angry , I think wildly, before the air rushes around me.

I’m slammed up against something hard.

Pain reverberates through me, awakening and vibrating every nerve.

My body stretches out, but my feet don’t touch the floor.

Before I can panic, Asher’s mouth crashes into mine.

His kiss is harsh and hungry. Too harsh and hungry for mine to keep up with.

I’ve never been kissed before. This is literally my first kiss. My lips struggle to match and follow his.

He could slow down and try to give me time to catch up. Time to learn.

Time to breathe .

But he growls again, his lips vibrating my lips, and nips me.

Something sweet touches my tongue and my entire body jolts like I was just struck by a bolt of lightning.

Energy crackles through my blood and awakens a hunger I didn’t realize I’ve been carrying around inside me. My hands grip him tight, trying to pull him closer, and my mouth begins to meet his suckle for suckle.

Pull for pull.

Battling him for more of the sweetness.

Our tongues duel, fighting over the few precious drops, and when they run out, my teeth try to break his flesh.

Chuckling, he lets me nip him. He lets me bite him. He lets me growl at him in frustration when it doesn’t work.

Then he pushes all of his weight into me, crushing me flat.

His mouth smothers mine until I still beneath him. Overpowered and defeated.

Just when I think he’s going to make me stay like this forever, he nips me again.

I moan as another delicious jolt of sensation flows through me from the spot he nipped all the way down to my core. Lighting me up with electric warmth.

More sweetness drips onto my tongue, teasing the hungry monster inside me. I try to savor the drops.

I try to enjoy them.

But I want more .

Ready for another battle, his tongue sweeps into my mouth, stroking against mine. Teasing me at first, duping me into letting my guard down.

Tricking me into thinking we’re simply battling for the sweetness.

Then pushing me into all-out war.

Kissing me so hard I have to arch my neck back from the force.

His own hunger awakening, he kisses me like a man who’s starving. A monster that’s been starving and wants to swallow me whole.

More sweetness teases my tongue, but it’s nothing compared to the taste of him .

He’s not only sweet, his taste pops and crackles across my tongue like fine champagne. Perfectly balanced.

Perfectly addicting.

His need, his desire pushes at me. Ready to break me open if I don’t willingly crack and spread.

As the thought enters my head, I feel my knees parting, making way for his hips.

Air rushes around us again, and my world spins.

Reality wavers then comes back in crystal clear focus.

I can feel my hair falling from my shoulders. Drifting down. Making a curtain around him.

His hips grind into me, and something hard rubs against my clit.

All the electricity in my blood sparks, igniting, and white flashes behind my eyes.

Moaning into his mouth, I roll my hips, chasing a new need.

A need for release.

Swallowing my moan, he rocks against me, the hardness between us driving me closer to the point of no return.

I’m so close I can fucking taste it when he moves us again. Yanking the orgasm just out of my reach, and twisting and distorting my reality.

Gravity has no value anymore. I don’t care if up is down or if down is up.

I only care about having him against me. His weight sinking me into something soft.

Still kissing me with the hunger of a hundred men, he ignores my little whines as he pulls his hips back. Sliding his body down my body.

When he finally pulls his lips from mine, I open my eyes.

But all I see is thick blackness.

If I strain my eyes hard enough, I can make out a faint outline, but not enough to satisfy the craving to see him in the flesh.

It’s just like the dream… he’s only a shadow again.

A figment of my deluded imagination.

I wish I could see him , I think, my blood cooling.

As if I willed it into being, light appears. A candle flickering into existence somewhere behind me.

Thick, muscled arms taking the weight of his body, Asher rises above me. His chest moving up and down as if he’s panting.

As if he needs the air…

Pushing up until he’s on his knees, he tears at his shirt. Not bothering with the buttons, he rips it off his chest.

Eyes sliding along his body, I watch the candlelight dance across skin. Mesmerized for a few heartbeats by its hypnotic sway. Then I force my eyes upwards, to his face. Here the light seems to cling, shining the brightest. Caressing his features. Highlighting the sharp slash of his cheekbones. The strong curve of his jaw.

Licking lips I’ve already kissed.

Again, like so many other times before, I’m struck by the sheer power of his beauty.

Unearthly and perfect in every way, my brain immediately thinks angel .

An angel about to defile me.

The candle flickers then dims without warning.

I blink and the image before me changes.

Hair messy, a few strands fall into his eyes, giving him a dark, menacing look. Especially as he stares down at me, panting like he’s not sure if he wants to kiss me again or destroy me.

All thoughts of angels and heavenly beings flee my head.

He’s not an angel… he’s a demon.

A demon hellbent on devouring me.

His green, fiery gaze widens a fraction as if he can read my thoughts just before it bores into my eyes with an intensity that shoves me closer to that place between dream and reality.

“Yes, I’m going to devour you,” Asher says, his voice striking a chord behind my ribs and thrumming through every vein. “But don’t worry.”

Hand lashing out, moving faster than my eyes can follow, he shreds my shirt to pieces, exposing my bra. “You’re going to love every second of it.”

Held by his gaze, on the edge of enthrallment, I feel no fear. No apprehension. Only anticipation. Taking him at his every word.

Lashing out again, he shreds my bra, freeing my breasts.

Glancing down, Asher’s eyes drink in the sight of my nakedness. Burning in the candlelight with hunger and passion.

“Not here… interesting…” he murmurs quietly to himself.

Freed from the spell of his gaze, reality slams back in, with every little fear and worry rearing their ugly heads.

I become painfully aware of being exposed. Of my breasts being out. Heavy. They’re so damn heavy as I struggle to get enough oxygen.

Kissed by the cool air, my nipples tighten into hard little points.

I’ve never been naked in front of another person like this. I’ve only been naked during my sacraments, and that was out of necessity. There was no lust or desire involved.

Only pain. Shame-filled pain and humiliation.

Breath quickening, dangerously close to hyperventilating, I finally remember I can move my arms and cross them over my chest.

His reaction is immediate and terrifying.

Making a vicious sound, he grabs my arms and rips them apart

Pinning my wrists down, he leans toward me, his face lowering to my face. “Don’t hide yourself from me!”

I flinch and try to shrink away from his anger.

His snarl disappears and his grip on my wrists loosens.

“Fuck,” he curses and closes his eyes.

Holding himself above me, his body full of tension.

Every muscle quivers with restraint.

His head drops, his forehead pressing against my forehead.

Chest pressing against my naked breasts, I can feel him panting with me. I can feel his silky skin pressed against my skin.

The sensation is entirely too sinful, too decadent.

“No more hiding from me, Chloe,” he rasps, eyes still closed. “No more fucking hiding. I can’t take it.”

His pain calls to my pain, mixing with it. Increasing it a hundred-fold. Amplifying the throbbing ache in the center of my chest. The ache of being hollow, empty, and incomplete.

And I know the only thing that will heal us both is completion.

He is completion .

But I’m still terrified. What comes next? What comes when he fills me up?

Will there be any of me left?

Releasing my right wrist, he grabs me by the back of the head and tangles his fingers in my hair. Just holding me for several long heartbeats.

As if he’s trying to both savor and survive the moment.

When he finally pulls away, he places a lingering kiss against my brow.

Lips drifting down, he brushes them down the bridge of my nose then presses them against my lips.

It’s the sweetest kiss, and I feel the tension flowing out of me and melting away.

Warmth begins to fill me, soft and affectionate.

An echo of his emotions blending with my emotions.

Soothing me with their tenderness.

Sighing, I kiss him back, falling into his gentle seduction.

But it’s a trap.

The second my body completely relaxes beneath him, my free hand grabbing at him to pull him closer, he tears his lips from mine and latches onto my neck.

Pure, overwhelming desire rolls through me, filling me with liquid heat.

There’s no pain. No sense of his fangs sinking into me. No ripping or tearing.

My flesh is intact.

He simply suckles on me, pulling hard on my skin. On a spot that’s incredibly sensitive.

A spot that makes my knees and every bone in my body go weak.

Trying to arch away from him, my hand that was grabbing at him pushes on his shoulder.

Ignoring my attempts to escape, his mouth pulls harder and his fingers free themselves from my hair.

Grabbing my breast, he squeezes me in his big palm. Then his fingers pinch my nipple, plucking at it.

“Oh God,” I groan and give him another shove.

Chuckling, he scrapes his fangs against my neck, the points scratching across my skin. “God will not save you from me, Chloe.”

His tongue lashes at the scrapes he just created, and something clenches hard inside me.

Between my neck and my nipple, I’m not sure how much more I can take before I completely unravel and come undone.

Closing his lips around me, he pulls back one more hard suckle then pushes away.

Looming above me, his eyes shining with a feral gleam, he growls, “Your god will not dare to take what’s mine .”

A gasp is all I can get out before he’s on me again. His hungry mouth finding the breast not gripped in his hand.

The intensity of having his mouth pull and suckle on my nipple isn’t nearly as bad as what I felt when he was on my neck, but it’s still enough to make me wiggle and squirm.

My core filling with an uncomfortable pressure.

Dragging his mouth downward, he kisses a wet trail down my stomach. Stopping once he reaches the waistband of my leggings.

Lingering there, his eyes flick up, caressing against mine, taunting me with the offer of oblivion.

I want the oblivion so bad my mouth waters at the temptation.

Grinning as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling, he releases my breast and shreds my leggings and panties.

Like my shirt and bra, he cuts them to pieces easily and tosses them away.

Firmly grabbing my knees, he spreads me wide open.

“There it is,” he says triumphantly, attention zeroing in on my thigh.

On the little red mark in the shape of a figure eight.

A mark I’ve tried to cut and burn from my flesh to no avail in desperation.

Making a low, feral noise in his throat, he asks, “Did you really try to cut me out of your body?”

Well, I suppose that answers that question. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it, but he is in my head, and he can read my thoughts.

Dammit.

Clamping my lips together, I refuse to answer.

He makes the vicious noise again, and in an attempt to protect myself, knowing what’s to come, I try to slam my knees together.

He pries them back open easily, but before he can touch my mark, my back is coming off the bed, my hands grabbing at his hands.

Moving in a blur, I’m slammed back down, all the air bursting from me in gasp.

Yanking my leg and body toward him, he grips my thigh in a death grip.

A grip I have no hope of breaking.

I can only watch in helplessness as his head dips.

Mouth latching onto my mark, he pulls back a hard suckle.

My world explodes.

Every color I’ve ever known, ever seen, flashes in front of my eyes. Every good feeling I’ve ever felt, every pleasure, every joy, roars to life.

Roaring to be heard at once.

The exact opposite of oblivion, I hear myself screaming.

Screaming his name.

Until he releases me and I plummet back to earth.

Licking his lips, the tip of his pink tongue drags slowly across them, relishing the taste of me.

I take one, two deep breaths.

“You should have never tried to cut me out, Chloe,” he says, mouth glistening. “Consider this your punishment.”

Then he’s on me again. Sucking on my mark. Trying to pull my soul through my flesh.

And almost succeeding.

Screaming, twisting, writhing, the pleasure is extreme and agonizing.

It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Even what I experienced in the shower when I touched myself is nothing in comparison.

It’s a never-ending mental orgasm that defies explanation.

When he finally releases me, I’m boneless. Covered in sweat. Wheezing for air. My throat raw and pussy soaking wet.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he purrs and lowers my leg enough to slink forward. “The most beautiful woman ever created.”

Shoving his face between my thighs, I feel his mouth cover me, his tongue finding my too-sensitive clit. The tip flicking against it.

And fucking delicious , he purrs in my head.

Still recovering from the trauma he inflicted with my mark, I jerk my hips away from him with another cry.

Mercy , I mentally beg.

I need mercy. Please.

Gripping me firmly, he yanks me back to his mouth. There will be no more mercy tonight, my love .

Using the last of my strength to reach down, I try to push his head away.

In retaliation, he sucks hard.

Causing all the blood to rush down from my head.

Fingers digging into the meat of my thighs, his mouth attacks me.

Lips, tongue, and teeth working together to strip away the last of my modesty. The last of my sanity.

Stripping away everything else until nothing else exists.

There is only his tongue lapping and dragging across my folds.

His lips clamping around and sucking on my clit.

The points of his fangs teasing me with the threat of pain.

His face rubbing against me until my hips grind back.

The hunger for a physical release reawakens.

And before I know it, I’m that woman in the vampire club.

Head thrown back, breasts heaving, my fingers grip his hair. Holding him close to me. Unwilling to let him stop or get away.

Relief is within reach. The pressure inside me growing and swelling, ready to burst.

I’m going to come all over his mouth , I think to myself. Come all over his pretty face.

Making a choking noise, Asher wrenches himself away from me.

My orgasm stolen from me once again, I want to scream in frustration.

Why does he tease me so? Why is he torturing me?

“Because I’ve waited so long for this,” he answers harshly and pushes up.

Tearing open the front of his pants, he frees his erection and quickly sheds the rest of the material.

“And when you come for me, I’m going to be inside you. Where I belong.”

Eyes widening, I stare at his hard length with a mixture of horror and fascination. I’ve never seen a naked man before. I’ve never looked at pornography or medical depictions. Lust was to be avoided at all costs.

I’m not completely ignorant though. I know men have penises and I know that they’re like a rod that goes into a woman.

But his cock… it’s beyond whatever my imagination pictured.

It’s long… and big… bigger than I think it should be.

And there are veins. Bulging veins along the shaft.

Are penises supposed to point up like that? Like it’s trying to touch his stomach?

A wicked grin spreading across his lips, Asher stretches over me and settles his hips between my thighs.

His erection bumps against me, and I jolt. My butt scooting back.

Grabbing my hip, he drags me closer until he’s poised at my entrance. The crown of his cock nudging my soaked folds.

Then his eyes find my eyes.

“No more running,” he says huskily. “I’ve caught you. Accept your fate. Accept me .”

Falling under the spell cast by his gaze, my fear and apprehension begin to slip away from me like water slipping through my fingers.

Releasing my hip, Asher takes himself in his hand and rubs against me. Swirling the crown of his cock around in my wetness.

And I feel no fear of what’s to come. No anxiety or worry.

Only eagerness.

I want him inside me. I want him filling me up.

For once in my life, I want to be complete.

I want to know what it’s like to feel whole, and not this empty shell that’s just going through the motions.

“Your wish is my command,” Asher growls before he strikes.

Thrusting his hips forward, his cock pierces me, ripping through my innocence.

And his mouth is on my neck.

His fangs biting into my skin.

It’s a double assault that leaves me reeling.

Pain mixes with pleasure. Blending so seamlessly it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.

Stretched around his thick length, my pussy throbs and aches. Unprepared for the violence of penetration.

But my neck…

My neck is alive with sensation.

There’s something about his bite… about his fangs sinking into my flesh that feels sinfully orgasmic.

I don’t know if there’s venom or poison in his bite, but I feel drugged. Drugged with a heady ecstasy that is melting everything else away.

“Asher,” I gasp, and clutch at him.

My toes curl into the bed and my sore pussy clenches, squeezing around him.

Yes, that’s it, angel.

Recognize your fated.

Feel me.

Pulling hard on my neck, his grip on me tightens.

As the blood rushes from my wound to his mouth, a slice of pleasure cuts through my core.

I try to arch my spine to handle the slice but his hold on me is too tight. I can’t move though my muscles are begging for it. Begging to move and chase the orgasm just outside my grasp.

Pulling his hips back, his stiff length slides out of me.

Then he roughly slams back in.

Feel your mate inside you.

A sharp cry breaks from my lips.

He growls inside my head, and I feel his cock twitch a moment before he grinds deep, trapping my clit between us.

Sucking harder on my neck, he continues to hold me in place. Refusing me the freedom of movement. The freedom of achieving my own release.

Forcing me to have only what he gives.

And though I know he’s draining the life out of me, I find myself soaring on the wings of ecstasy. His control, his power over me giving me a freedom I’ve never had before.

The freedom to just accept what’s happening to me.

To stop fighting it.

To just be .

I don’t know which I like more, he purrs inside my head and rolls his hips.

Rocking against my clit.

Drinking from your sweet neck or stuffing you with my cock .

When I let out a long, keening whimper, my pussy quivering around him, he sucks harder.

Both are fucking exquisite.

Harder and harder he sucks and drinks. Swallowing down the very stuff that gives me life and keeps my heart beating.

And instead of slowing, my pulse quickens.

You are exquisite.

Higher and higher, I fly closer to the sun, whose colors are now dancing in front of my eyes.

My angel… you are everything I’ve dreamed of…

My clit throbs viciously. My entire body thrumming with anticipation. Sensing something is closer.

And more.

Smashing his hips into my thighs, he sucks on my neck like he’s trying to drag my very spirit out of my veins.

There’s a moment of resistance, as if my body doesn’t want to give up my essence.

Then a gush.

As my blood floods his mouth, my body explodes, my pussy flooding my release all over his pulsing cock.

His grip on me loosening, we jerk together, muscles spasming.

Mine with release. His with surprise.

I hear him cursing inside my head, but I’m so far gone the words mean nothing to me.

La petite mort . The little death. I know that’s what having an orgasm has been artistically referred to. The chance to die a little and be reborn.

But there’s nothing little about this death.

I’m actually dying.

My life being consumed by the vampire with his cock stuffed inside me.

And it feels amazing.

It feels exactly what I always imagined Heaven would be like. The euphoria has me flying so high, I’m on an entirely different plane of existence. Mindless in my bliss.

Until I’m not.

Suddenly the clouds are yanked away from me and my wings start to give out. Clipped and failing me.

Falling back down, I become aware of things one by one.

The walls of my sex fluttering, my muscles weakening.

My limbs growing heavier.

My pulse slowing.

Asher still on top of me, smothering me with his weight as he continues to feed on me with no sign of stopping.

I want to tell him to stop. That he’s had enough.

That I don’t truly want to die.

I’m scared.

But I don’t have the energy for it. I can’t even think it.

Holding my eyes open becomes so difficult, my lashes drop and blackness closes in.

Air becomes elusive. Even breathing takes too much focus to complete.

My heart beats slower and slower, becoming a soft tick in my ears. The tick of a clock marking the last seconds of my life.

Drink, Asher urges after twenty ticks.

Something sweet drips onto my tongue, but I don’t have the energy to do anything but let it slide down my throat.

Chloe, drink, Asher demands, his voice cracking like a whip and pulling me out of the darkness. Drink and receive the blood of your fated.

I’m tired. So very tired.

I’d rather sleep forever.

But the words he spoke… they trigger a memory. A memory of Father McCall standing before me in his robes and offering me a gold chalice.

Deliriously I hear Father McCall saying, “The Blood of Christ.”

The chalice is pressed to my lips.

Wanting to receive my Lord, even though I’m not worthy, my mouth moves, my throat swallowing.

Yes, that’s it, my love , Asher encourages me. Drink and be reborn .

The words are wrong, and so is the taste, but I obey. My throat working hard to swallow down all that is being offered to me.

But it doesn’t end.

I keep expecting the chalice to run dry, instead the flow of the wine increases. Filling my mouth and some spilling out of my lips.

Starting to gag and choke, I try to shove the chalice away but it’s unmovable.

Let us never be parted again.

The wine is warm, oddly warm, and thick. The taste both sweet and deep. With rich, smoky undertones I can’t quite place.

With each struggling gulp I can feel my strength returning to me. The communion renewing me. Giving me life.

“Live and be with me forever,” Father McCall says in my head.

But why would he say that?

That’s not part of the Eucharist… and isn’t he dead?

My eyes fly open and I see Asher’s beautiful face above me, his eyes glowing in the darkness.

Confused and disturbed, I turn my head to the side and push his arm away.

“ No, you must drink more,” Asher growls and grabs me by the hair, turning my head back.

Pressing his bleeding wrist against my lips, he tries to push more of his blood into my mouth.

I fight it, gagging, choking, and spitting it out.

Making an angry, demonic sound, Asher jerks his hips back, sliding his cock out of me, then rams back in.

More, Chloe .

Trying to shake my head no , I resist giving into the spike of pleasure he just drove into me. Refusing to allow my eyes to roll into the back of my head. Refusing to allow my mouth to open on a moan.

Determined to have his way, Asher drops his chin, his gaze searing into me, and pulls his hips back again.

I try to brace myself. I try to prepare myself for another spike of pleasure.

But he slams deep this time and doesn’t stop. Hips slapping hard against the fleshy part of my thighs.

Slapping hard against my mark.

Over and over. Clapping against me like thunder while lightning flashes in front of my eyes and ignites my core.

The electric response of my mark is unbearable, and it takes every bit of willpower I have to keep from crying out.

Holding me by the hair, he grinds his wrist against my mouth, pressing my lips into my teeth.

Forcing me to taste my own blood.

More. Drink more, dammit, or you’ll die.

Struggling with all the sensations, pushed to the brink of madness, I continue to fight. Forgetting why I’m even fighting. It’s just instinctual. The need to live and not die.

“I won’t lose you!” Asher roars inside my head and something shatters between us.

Emotions slam into me with each pounding thrust.

His emotions.

There’s joy. There’s pain.

There’s longing and desire as he strokes hard and deep.

But the strongest of them all is love .

It shouldn’t be there. We don’t know each other. We’ve never interacted with each other beyond these past few hours and the dreams.

But it is.

And it’s real.

It’s pure.

I know it somehow. Like one knows how to breathe or blink without thinking about it.

The shock of his love hits me so hard my mouth falls open in a gasp.

And I instantly feel his triumph as his blood pours past my lips and down my throat.

His hips pumping me full of his need to conquer and protect me at all costs.

Even if it means protecting me from myself.

I start to choke, my body wanting to bring the blood back up, but he seals my mouth with the strong press of his wrist.

Not allowing a single drop to escape.

Grinding my head down into the bed with the force of his arm, I can only stare up at him helplessly.

His blood pours into me while he continues to drive himself harder and faster into my body.

I’ve never felt so full and stretched to the point of bursting.

My heart starts to race wildly and I claw at his arm.

Panic wanting to take control.

But it can’t compete with the orgasm building in my core.

Like a storm of dark clouds, I feel it swelling up inside me. Gathering strength. Made up of his thunder and the lightning coursing up and down my thigh.

Then everything explodes.

My orgasm. Asher.

And my chest.

All at once.

Warm waves of bliss want to carry me away as Asher’s pace stutters and his cock jerks inside me, pumping me full of fire.

But my heart…

My heart has stopped.

Every muscle I possess locks up.

I can’t pull air into my lungs.

No matter how hard I try.

Asher curses then looks down at me in horror.

And I know true fear.

I can’t relax enough to give my heart a chance to restart, and the more I struggle the tighter I seize up.

My thighs clench around his hips, trapping him against me. My nails dig into the meat of his forearm.

The walls of my sex squeeze around him so tightly I can feel every bulging vein along his shaft. Every little twitch as he continues to come.

“Chloe,” Asher chokes and rips his wrist away from my mouth.

But it’s too late.

No amount of oxygen or love can save me now.

Not when death has wrapped me up in his cold possessive arms.