Chapter 35 #2
His bleeding hand was in her hair, and he pulled her close, shoving his mouth against hers.
He kissed her and kissed her. Each time his lips crashed against hers, he dragged her under in a sea of unending night.
His long pronged tongue slipped past her lips, gliding over her own, skimming over the roof of her mouth.
He was determined to claim every single bit of her.
And Aryana craved nothing less.
He backed her up across the room. She went willingly with him.
Then he gripped her wrist, and she heard the snap of something metal.
Glancing down, her eyes widening. He really used these?
She didn’t fight as he snapped the second shackle over her wrist and then stepped back with that evil smile on his face.
Reaching up, he grabbed the chains looped through the hook on the ceiling.
With a firm yank on the chain, he lifted Aryana’s hands above her head, pulling her off her feet so that she dangled in the air.
“Now, Vampress, you are completely at my mercy.”
A week ago she would’ve been terrified, but tonight she only experienced a spark of excitement, a desperate curiosity to know what he would do to her next.
Dark wings appeared, unfurling behind him. With expert precision, they lifted him into the air until his cock pressed along her throat. His legs curled around her, his wings folding them into a kind of heated cocoon.
The chains above her head rattled as he reached up and gripped them as leverage.
He thrust that thick length against her throat and chest, claiming her, all of her.
Curses fell from his lips like the dark whispers of the night, his breaths heavy.
She couldn’t take it. The next time it slipped up her throat, she dipped her head until the tip of his cock moved up her chin and she dropped her tongue out, licking the tip.
He froze—then adjusted among the chains as if he were a bat, trying to find the best possible hanging position.
His shaft slid between her lips and his hips moved in and out.
At the next thrust, she nicked his skin, his blood flooding her mouth, and there were no more moans and grunts of pleasure.
Zarathos emitted a roar. He bucked inside her, almost hurting her, but she liked it, sucking harder, drawing his essence as he raged above her, snarling and swearing—dominating him.
When he came, it poured, hot and forceful, down her throat and she swallowed it with his blood. How she loved this. She could do it all night. But Zarathos eased his length from between her lips.
“Naughty Vampress,” he taunted in that soft, silken voice. “Remember, I am in control.”
He wedged his hand into her mouth and she bit, willingly taking his offering as he thrust against her throat and chest, her breasts, her stomach.
Each time he came and released himself onto her, he slowly sank further down her body.
Before starting anew, he’d pause and grind himself against her, spreading the cum, coating her thoroughly.
When he reached her abdomen, his tail slid up her leg again, slipping between her legs.
Aryana abandoned her hold on whatever part of him she’d bitten to let out a sharp gasp.
He kept his eyes on her from his grip on the chains, his evil grin growing wider as his tail drew up her seam.
It stroked her, back and forth, again and again.
It dipped into her opening and out. Oh shit.
It slid in again. It twisted inside of her, and she writhed, her feet brushing nothing but air.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Yes. “Zarathos,” she gasped, and a deep chuckle left him.
“You are so fun to toy with.”
“Don’t stop toying.”
“As you wish, wife.”
He rubbed against her, his velvety cock shoved against her stomach, grating against her ribs. He groaned and grunted as his wetness and blood mingled across her body yet again.
And his tail continued to tease her. Stroking, twisting, inside, outside, driving her wild.
Until she reached her breaking point. It was too much, too much pleasure.
Her heart raced and white flashed before her vision, her whole body spasming under his touch.
The next time his tail spun inside her, she hung her head back and screamed.
How could he be this damn good at pleasing her?
Zarathos dropped to the floor, his chest coated in crimson and sweat. Aryana felt strong, powerful, but the space between her legs still ached to feel his cock between them. Like an expert puppeteer, he stepped up to the chain and lowered her until her toes grazed the floor.
He came toward her. “Are you ready for me, Aryana?”
Oh yes. How she longed for his wet, bloody hardness deep within her. “Zarathos, please. Fuck me.”
His eyes glowed with unabashed hunger. “Whatever you wish, my vampress.” It was so easy, how he shifted and speared inside of her. Aryana’s eyes rolled back. This was all she wanted.
He shoved deeper in small, sharp thrusts. Her legs wrapped around him to plunge him further, and she rotated her hips. “Gods…gods…Zarathos.” He groaned, his hand curling into her hair. He tipped her head toward his throat. “Drink.”
She didn’t want to drink. She was sated. She wanted to keep feeling him inside of her. He thrust deeper between her legs and his tail caressed her backside in loving, soft strokes. The press of his fingers against her scalp brought her lips to the open cut on his chest. “Drink.”
Ah, the scent of him. The sensation of him.
She desired more of him inside her, every part of him, and her resistance melted away.
She bit his skin, pulling in long drags of his blood.
The utter bliss of having him take her so fully drove her to distraction, and she emitted a high-pitched whine as she came around his cock and Zarathos gasped.
He released inside her.
Immediately, he plunged back into her. “Again.”
He pressed her head to his throat, and she kept drinking, kept feeling him. Every part of her was tender—tender and raw and sore and sparking with heat and a piercing sensation that wouldn’t go away.
It wasn’t hard for him to make her come again. She spasmed harder this time, and she whimpered against his hot, inflamed skin, his blood coursing over her tongue, drowning out what would otherwise be shrieks of ecstasy.
He spilled inside her.
He didn’t release her. “Again,” he said, his voice dark and depraved.
She was wild, wild and raging. She rolled harder, harder. She didn’t care that she was sore, didn’t care about the pain of having him in her for so long. Didn’t even care that he held her head so that she was forced to continue drinking his blood. It all felt…it felt….
She came again. And again. And again.
Whenever she released, he came right after her, until they were nothing but a mass of bodies and wetness seeping out of her opening, off of his cock, rolling between them, coating the inside of her thighs, slipping over her ass.
All sense of time vanished, until he urged her head back, and he pulled out of her. Her fingers ached from gripping the chains at some point, as if that would keep her grounded. She stared at him, breathing hard. Some ounce of horror crept over her at the sight of him.
Bite marks covered his arms and chest. How many times had she bitten him? Crimson leaked from every injury, flowing down his body. Gods.
He stumbled a little.
The cum he had thrust up inside her flowed freely out of her. There was nothing she could do. There was so much she couldn’t pretend to keep it in.
“Zarathos, what did you do?”
He reached out and stroked at the fluid pouring down her legs, like an artist doing light and precise brushstrokes over a painting to get everything just right. His eyes were clouded, and he paused a moment, gripping her legs to steady himself.
What had she done? She must have taken so much from him.
He lurched away to his cabinet and pulled out his armor, nearly falling as he tripped over his own feet as he returned to her.
“You, you said you’d stop me.”
He didn’t acknowledge her words as he strapped the armor over her body. It was much too big, but that didn’t seem the point. He pulled the armored bottoms over her ass and then stood back to look at her. A satisfied smile crept across his face.
Right before he crumpled to the floor.