34. Sariel
SARIEL
A fter napping half the day away, I wake up pinned beneath Elowen’s hips, writhing and painting my cock with her arousal from where she straddles me. Her movements are frantic as she looks down at me with not merely lust but fear. Her fangs have lengthened—another confirmation the time for her to feed from me has come. Anticipation has my heart kicking against my chest. According to the books I read on the nature of a soulbound mortals’ shift, her drinking my blood will enable her to complete her transformation.
“I think I’m hungry, but I’m afraid, Sariel. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Emotion fists my heart and has me rising to sit back against the headboard so I can give her the best position for feeding. Her needy hips, however, have other ideas, and it’s clear to me her body is at war with which urge will take precedence.
Taking the full globes of her ass in each of my palms, I guide her carefully onto my length that this female commands with astonishing ease. Still, I can only manage to fit the scarcest beginning of my knot inside of her, but it doesn’t stop her from working her hips back and forth to try and force more of it in. Once she drinks my blood, however, I know it will ease the pain of it and heighten her fragile body to welcome me fully.
I draw her closer against my chest, tilting my head to the side and baring my throat to her, but her body goes rigid. Tears line her eyes as she shakes her head.
“I don’t want to hurt you... I—I?—”
Elowen’s throat works as her chin trembles beneath the weight of her fear. “I don’t know what I’d do if I ever hurt you, or worse. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Sariel, and you’ve done so much for me… What if I drink too much? What if I puncture the wrong vein? What if?—”
My body curls around her protectively as if it will shield her from her fear. “You won’t hurt me, love. Have you seen the scars on my body? I was born in Hell. I’ve survived wounds no mortal could walk away from. One of my duties as a prince was to lead the front lines of my parents’ army. I’ve never been to war, but I spent much of my time quelling vicious riots. I’ve been stabbed, impaled, flayed, tortured—shot in the head by that godsforsaken fucking doctor… And how do I look now?”
Tears continue to stream down her cheeks as her eyes devour every visible inch of me, taking in every scar and evidence of my words before her gaze returns to mine. “Beautiful… You look beautiful. Like everything I’ve ever dreamed of and more.”
Sudden emotion swells to bursting in my chest and burns the dams of my eyes. My hands cradle her face, pulling her close to mine. “Perfection does not even begin to encompass your beauty and all your many qualities that never fail to steal my breath. We belong to each other, Elowen. The only thing I wouldn’t survive is your absence. Other than that, do with me what you will.”
I dip my forehead to hers, thumbs stroking her cheeks. “Our souls are bound together, Elowen… My blood is yours to take.”