Chapter 13 Lemon
Lemon
Damn flirtatious dark elf. It should be illegal to smell that good and have an ass that perfectly bubbly and muscular. Not to mention the silver tattoos covering his entire shoulders and back and trailing down over the aforementioned ass.
I make a mental note to comm Shadow the minute I get home to update her on this newest development.
If I knew the Gulch was making men who looked like this, I might have come to visit with the girls.
At the time, a girls’ weekend in a remote haven didn’t sound like my cup of type A, and I was busy prepping for Varitius’ family affair.
Casting the bad memories aside, I cross the living room and head to the kitchen, remembering my way from last night. I set my pink leather clutch down on the kitchen counter and hop up, crossing one leg over the other.
Furyon returns a moment later wearing low-slung jeans and absolutely no shirt at all.
I wave at his upper body as he joins me, opening the fridge and withdrawing a bag of bright red blood. “You’re only halfway dressed.”
Not that he doesn’t look hot as hells, because he does.
The lines of his abs draw my attention with a deep vee that disappears into jeans that are barely hanging on to his muscular hips.
Broad shoulders taper to a trim waist, and every inch of him except one pectoral is covered in silver animal tattoos.
Horses, cattle, mice, owls. They’re everywhere.
He flashes me a dazzling smile as he sets the blood on the counter, reaches into a cabinet and withdraws two glasses.
“I invited you here for dinner, Lemon, but let’s not pretend this isn’t what it is—you’re gonna end up in my bed.
Or maybe I’ll have you right here. But either way, there’s no need for me to add more clothing to the mix.
” He waves at his crotch. “Only reason I bothered to cover this half is I want to make sure you’re fed before we get to everything else.
You’ve noticed we have no blood bank, I’m sure. ”
My mouth drops open, and I scoff. “Well, I hate to be a foregone conclusion.”
He chuckles and rips the bag of blood open with his teeth. He fills both glasses halfway up then grabs a bottle of gin, adding to each glass. Swirling it with his finger, he keeps both eyes on me, that same satisfied-looking smile on his face.
“You ain't a foregone conclusion, Lemon. But the draw between us is obvious. I asked you out. You said yes. Then you went home to freshen up and put on a dress that’d knock me fuckin’ dead.
You wanna get railed into my headboard. Tell me you don’t.
” The challenge in his confident-ass tone has my hackles rising even as my fangs pop from my gums. My second eyelids flash over both eyes, and his grin goes from satisfied to shit-eating.
“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” He steps closer and presses a glass into my hand. “Let’s take the edge off that thirst, city girl, ‘cause I don’t need you biting me in a moment of passion.”
I chuckle as I take a sip. The blood’s cold and delicious, and I close my eyes as it goes down smooth. When I open them, Furyon’s drinking from his glass. Watching the way his throat bobs as he swallows blood has my eyelid flashing white again, and I set my glass down, beckoning him with a finger.
“Come closer, Furyon.”
He takes another defiant sip from his cup. “I come any closer, and we ain’t gonna make it through dinner, Lemon.”
“Fuck dinner,” I growl. “Show me your neck.”
He sets his glass down and cages me in, letting his head fall to one side as he stares from beneath dark lashes. Those shocking eyes narrow as he scans my face and watches my mouth. Moving a hand up my right arm, he slides the ruffled strap down over my shoulder. “You hungry, city girl?”
“Not for food,” I admit. I lean forward and suck at a gorgeous spot on his neck, scenting him as everything inside me clenches tightly. “You smell so good,” I murmur into his skin. “Thank you for trusting me to put my mouth on you here.”
“I haven’t consented to more,” he says simply, but it sounds teasing the way he does it.
I grip his chin and level him with a serious gaze. “I’d never take what you haven’t agreed to. Do you understand? I don’t do that. Your comfort is important to me.”
His look softens, nostrils flaring.
I brush my lips over his, loving how hot and soft his mouth is. “But when you allow me to taste you, it’s gonna be so good, country boy.”
“Let me taste you first,” he demands.
I grin and lean back on my hands, opening my thighs wider. “I’ll allow it, Furyon. Biting is just fine by me.”
His answering growl has goosebumps peppering my entire body.
He surges forward and clamps his teeth around my shoulder.
Shaking his head from side to side, he sinks his fangs into my skin and snarls.
I shove a hand into his long hair and wrap it between my fingers, holding him as he bites and scrapes his teeth along my shoulder and up my neck.
I’m halfway to coming by the time he bites beneath my ear, his breath and tongue hot against my throat.
He releases the bite and plants an open-mouthed kiss on my skin.
Reaching for my other dress strap, he slides it down and steps back, pulling my dress down over my breasts.
I’m big-chested, but this dress has enough built-in support that I don’t wear a bra.
When the fabric slides down far enough to reveal my boobs to him, Furyon lets out a satisfied sound.
Before I can say something sassy about how great my tits are, he surges forward, gripping one hard.
He guides my entire breast into his mouth and bites.
I jolt in his arms, crying out as I fall back onto my hands, arching into his rough touch.
He releases the bite and sucks, pulling my nipple into a stiff peak.
I rock my hips against him, desperate for more.
The blood we just drank amps my lust, fangs throbbing with venom as Furyon reaches between my thighs and finds my thong.
“I’m gonna touch you now, alright?”
I nod.
He slips his fingers easily beneath it and pulls it to the side, his fingers playing up and down my slit.
“You’re wet, city girl,” he says with a growl. “You been thinkin’ about riding me as much as I’ve been thinkin’ about lettin’ you?”
Fuck. I love an elf with a filthy mouth.
Without waiting for an answer, he slips two fingers inside me and curls them, rubbing against my G-spot. Crying out, I surge over him, pressing my mouth to the side of his neck as I cling to my sanity. He lets out a satisfied-sounding chuckle, bringing his thumb to my clit and pressing gently.
“I’m not gonna let you come like this, Lemon,” he breathes into my hair. “I’m gonna take you to the edge a few times, and then I’m gonna fuck you right here in my kitchen.”
I can only groan as he shoves my dress higher up my thighs, pushing me back onto the counter.
He never stops with those talented fingers, moving rhythmically inside me.
But when he leans forward and closes his mouth over my clit, I groan and throw a hand over my eyes.
I’m gonna come so fucking fast like this.
His mouth is so wet, so soft, so demanding as he pulls gently on my sensitive skin.
Glancing to my right, I notice a manila folder on the countertop. It’s filled to the brim with haphazardly stacked papers and my damn name is written on the tab. Oh my gods it must be the case file. Like, the fucking case file. Right next to where he’s eating me out on the godsdamned counter.
His warm lips tease my skin so lightly, heat spearing through my core and making my abs quiver.
Orgasm builds like a thunderstorm rumbling between my thighs as the scent of his blood explodes over my senses. The kitchen’s awash in pine and snow, a deeply primal scent that demands I toss him down and take him.
But I can’t. I won’t. And holding back is the most delicious fucking tease.
I’m on the edge, breath coming in rapid-fire pants when he stops sucking me off.
Lurching forward, he grips my throat and hauls me carefully upright until my chest hits his.
My ass hangs halfway off the counter as he shoves his jeans down with one hand.
They hit the floor, his belt buckle making a satisfying metallic thud.
“Hang on, Lemon,” he growls, guiding the tip of his cock to my slit. “I’ve got a contraceptive ring on, alright? Since we haven’t really talked about that.”
I nod, glancing down to where his thickly veined cock is positioned at my entrance.
The dark gray ring is nestled around the base of his cock and it’ll ensure we don’t get pregnant.
The rational part of my brain wants to ask why he already fuckin’ had it on, but if I’m honest he’s right—our chemistry is so good.
Maybe this entire exchange was a foregone conclusion.
I can’t find it in me to care as I curl the fingers of one hand around the nape of his neck.
Furyon snaps his hips, filling me to the brim in one quick move.
My head falls back, eyes rolling upward as he buries his nose in the hollow at the base of my neck.
He scrapes his fangs against my collarbone as he thrusts out and back in so rough, the countertop shakes.
He’s so thick and hard, every inch of him tantalizing me as his scent fills my senses.
My fangs punch from my gums as I imagine biting him and taking that perfect, ruby rich blood.
I can’t. I won’t. I promised.
Furyon supports my ass with one hand, sliding the other up between my shoulder blades with a possessive snarl.
He rocks his hips again and again and again, my pleasure driving higher.
Orgasm rushes through me like a tidal wave, radiating from my core outward as I jerk in his arms. Cries fall from my lips like prayers, and he never stops the brutal, punishing rhythm.