Chapter 12 #2
“D-don’t want—”
I rub my wrist on her lips, trying to spread my blood between the slight opening of her mouth, and she tenses.
“I know you don’t want it, but you need it. You’re going to crash, Ivy. And crashing can—”
I swallow hard. “Kill you.”
“Maybe it’s better that way,” she mewls. “I’m n-never—going to find a m-mate before my t-twenty-first b-birthday. I’m n-never g-going to make m-my father proud and r-rule.”
Her words settle on me, and I lean closer, tilting her head up so my blood flows into her mouth. She tries to fight me, her fingernails dragging along my arm, but she’s weak. There’s barely any strength when she pushes.
“Definitely not,” I say. “You’ll find a mate,” I assure her. “I know you will.”
She laughs and it’s weak. Defiant.
“You don’t even know me,” she bites. “Why are you even here, you—”
She stops, her entire body stilling, and I know she tastes it. My blood. Her tongue flecks out to lick the wound, and my cock hardens from the feel. Her warm, smooth tongue caressing my skin, licking me clean.
And then her mouth latches onto me and she sinks her fangs into my wrist. She pulls me onto the bed and I situate myself in the unmade sheets as she starts to drink.
With my free hand, I stroke her hair, trying to soothe her as she shakes, gulping me down.
My eyes roll in the back of my head, because fuck… this feels amazing. Similar to how it feels when Adrien drinks me, but… different.
Is this what it feels like for Adrien? When I drink him?
She curls closer to me, into my space as she drinks and I don’t stop her.
“Take what you need,” I tell her. “It’s okay. I promise.”
Adrien’s words echo in my brain. I know how they make me feel, so that’s why I say them, I think. I want Ivy to feel the comfort he makes me feel when I’m starving.
And then I feel it. The heat. The ache. The unbearable desire and thirst.
Another bloodheat episode.
No. Not now…
But it’s no use, with Ivy’s fangs in my skin and her scent hitting me, with my cock already chomping at the bit, resistance is futile. My throat tightens, dry and itchy.
She stops, looking up at me with blood stained lips and chin, her red eyes glistening like rubies left in the sun. All there is is a split second as she looks at me, at my mouth. And before I know it, her hand is on my jaw and she’s pulling me to her bloodied mouth.
Ivy kisses me ravenously. She probes her tongue in my mouth, and I can taste myself on her. The taste isn’t as bad as it should be. Whatever sweetness she adds, its too fucking good to stop.
I pull her into my lap without thinking, my hands settling on her hips. She straddles me, sliding herself over my clothed cock, and I move her hips slowly, thrusting up against her warmth. One hand absentmindedly slides beneath her skirt, and I realize she’s bare beneath me. And slick as hell.
Fuck.
She jolts from my touch, and I feel a heaviness in my chest as I realize I’m touching her bare, wet pussy.
I haven’t touched a vampiresses’ pussy in years. Since I was a teenager. The thought is equal parts sobering, but also strangely arousing, because…
I like how it feels. Warm. Wet. And her scent… that acrid tang mixed with sweet sugar…
She moves just the slightest, the motion driving my finger higher. I can feel the edge of her hole, pulsing, clenching.
Longing to be filled.
Somewhere in my bloodheat, I know what she wants. What she needs. She grabs my wrist once more, bringing it to her mouth. She sinks her fangs in me again, crunching through the skin and thrusts herself against me, and I slide my finger inside of her without a second thought.
The bloodheat rises within me, all around me. Around us.
I lean forward and kiss her neck, dragging my fangs along the taut skin and she moans, rocking against my hand while she drinks me like I’m her favorite milkshake. My cock throbs and I can already feel my orgasm building like a crescendo.
I curl my finger inside of her, stroking her.
My thumb searches for her clit. It’s been awhile since I did this, and the last time I did, I didn’t really know what I was doing.
Not that I know what I’m doing know, but judging from her moans and the pace she’s fucking my wrist, I’d say I’m on the right track.
I finally find her swollen nub and flick it, and she nearly jumps off my lap.
So I do it again as I slide a second finger inside her.
I lick at her neck as she lets my bloodied wrist go.
I feel lightheaded, but I’m not sure if it’s from blood loss or from the ecstasy of being in the midst of our bloodheat. Together.
Tangled like spiderwebs.
And then I feel it. The tightening of her pussy around my fingers. She screams, loud enough I worry anyone in the dormitory may hear her, but a part of me feels emboldened by that.
Because I made her do that. Me, Wesley fucking Castor, anomaly extraordinaire, made a vampiress come with just my fingers.
Pride swells through me as does my own arousal and a strange thought pervades my brain. I don’t fight it, since the voice of my bloodheat is too hard to fight when I’m so keyed up like this.
I upend Ivy onto her back as I slide my fingers out of her. She squeals, surprised by the motion. I push her skirt up, wanting to look at her. Wanting to see the evidence of my ministrations.
Her pussy gleams with fresh release, and I lean forward, wanting to know what it tastes like. What she tastes like.
I grab her thighs and lick her and she nearly flies off the bed. I pull my tongue back in my mouth, for a moment, holding her there in silence as I let myself process the actual taste.
It’s….
Sweet. Slightly tangy, but…
I dive back in for another lick and she squirms beneath me, which only spurs me more.
My cock throbs in my pants, and I trace the lines between her folds, trace her swollen clit with my tongue.
I slip my tongue inside her. I suck on her folds, on her clit.
Every corner and crevice is new and uncharted, and I like how it feels.
I like how responsive she is to my tongue.
“Oh my Gods, Wesley—” Her voice is strained, and before she can finish whatever it was she was going to say, another guttural moan escapes her and then I feel the rush of sweetness on my tongue as she comes. Again.
Holy fucking hell.
I drink her like she drank my blood. Like I’m starving, and perhaps I am.
Starved for something I didn’t know existed until this very moment.
Caught in my lust, I bury my face against her thigh, kissing and licking at the stray juices that coat the skin there. And then without thinking, I bite her.
My fangs sink into the flesh of her thigh like teeth pierce soft cake.
Blood rushes to the surface, filling my mouth along with the sweet taste of her cum and sweat. I come without warning, not giving a shit that I’m coming in my pants on this woman’s bed, with my head between her legs, my fangs deep in her skin.
I get lost in the taste of blood, in the feel of her flesh, and the euphoria hitting me like a brick.
And then the bloodheat dies. It falls apart like soaked paper.
Reality hits me harder than it ever has after an episode, and I look up at her, my blood staining her chin and neck, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and guilt.
Fuck.
What just happened?
You just fed a vampiress. I blink, licking my lips. The taste of her is prevalent. Panic laces through me.
You just ate vampiress pussy. No big deal. No big deal at all…
Except I know it is a big deal.
I just cheated on my boyfriend.
He’s not your boyfriend, the voice in my head chastises, but I shake it off. I know he’s not, but…
He is. My boyfriend. I think he’s been my boyfriend for a while, even if he hasn’t said anything.
Oh, fuck.
I scramble back on my knees, my cock brushing against my wetness and I look down to see the mess I made.
There is no denying what happened here. The wet spot alone is huge.
Anxiety swells as everything converges on me at once.
“Wesley—”
“Are you… okay?” I ask, trying not to come undone at the seams.
“I think so,” she says, closing her legs, pushing her skirt between to cover herself. Her gaze flashes at me and I can see the panic in her eyes, too.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I just…wanted to help, I—”
“I know, and I’m grateful… for your help, I just—”
I fall back further, trying to get away, nearly falling off the bed as I do so.
“I went too far,” I say, shame blanketing me. “I bit you.”
I lick my fangs, relieved when I don’t feel the sting of venom. I didn’t claim her.
I just fed on her.
My insides are a mess as I feel both disappointed I didn’t claim her and relieved as hell I didn’t claim her.
Do I want to claim her? The fact I can’t say no does not bode well for me.
Or Ivy.
Fuck.
“It was an accident,” I say, imploring her gaze. Her eyebrows furrow and she frowns.
“It was just… the bloodheat.” I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince myself or her. Or both us, perhaps.
“Right. Just… the bloodheat,” she whispers. I nod, getting off the bed.
“Um… don’t… don’t let yourself crash, okay?” I say as I stand, trying to adjust my cock and cover my wet spot with my hand. I feel equal parts embarrassed and ashamed.
What the fuck is wrong with me? What is happening to me?
She moves towards me, and I pull back and her eyes fill with tears.
“Are you rejecting me?” she whispers.
“What? No,” I say, confused, panic hitting me tenfold. How can I reject something I never claimed! Or something that’s never claimed me?
“It sure feels like rejection,” she says. I shake my head.
“No, I didn’t claim you. I just… bit you.”
I just bit you. I didn’t claim you.
I repeat the words like a mantra, hoping they’ll sink in.
She pouts, slinking away, casting me a watery gaze.
“I think you should go,” she says.
“Ivy—”
“You came. You helped. I’m better now. I don’t need you, Wesley.”
Her words hit me like a sword to the chest.
I don’t need you, Wesley.
Why does that hurt so fucking much?
Part of me wants to protest. To tell her she does. Need me.
To protect her, care for her. Soothe her. To please her.
I look at her and all I see now is the expression on her face when she came. From my tongue, from my hand.
I’ll never be able to erase this. I’ll never be able to forget the sound of her pleasure, the feel of her skin.
The taste of her blood.
But I don’t protest. I don’t say a word because I feel like if I do, I’ll break into a thousand pieces and no one will be able to put me back together.
Instead, I do as she asks. I give her my back, and I slowly walk towards her door. I stop for the briefest moment before I open it, turning to look at her on her bed. She does not look at me or acknowledge me, but I can still see the faint lines of blood on her neck. My blood.
It takes everything I have to turn the doorknob and leave. To walk through her door and shut it like nothing happened. All I can hear in my head are her moans. I swear her scent lingers in the air, still, clinging to me like a demon that refuses to leave its host.
I put one foot in front of the other, heading for my dorm if only to change. I go through the motions methodically, focusing on them one by one. Take off shoes. Take off pants. Remove cum-filled underwear. Burn the evidence.
Well, I would burn it if I had a damn lighter in this dorm, but fire is prohibited on account it’s the one thing that can kill us.
Instead, I throw them in the trash. But even though they’re in the trash, it’s like they’re staring at me.
Burning a hole in my back. I shower, thankful I don’t have any classes until this afternoon.
I wash myself three times, trying to scrub the blood from my face.
Trying to erase the memory of her on my skin. It doesn’t work.
When I’m finally dressed, I grab for my backpack and head out the door, aiming to hit Phantom’s. I need a bloody drink. I need—
I run into something big and hard outside the dorm and realize I wasn’t watching where I was going.
“Watch where the hell you’re—” The voice is one I haven’t heard in ages, but the bitterness in it is recognizable.
I freeze, my body going numb as I look at the man in front of me. Bright aqua eyes stare back at me and he raises an eyebrow.
“The fuck are you doing here, Wes?”
My blood chills and I think maybe this is it. Maybe I’ve truly gone insane.
Lost my last marble between kissing Ivy and getting fucked by my boyfriend and then going down on Ivy and—
There’s a hundred things I could say to my brother. But the only thing that comes out of my mouth is, “I could ask you the same fucking thing, Wyatt.”
My brother scoffs at me, his cocky grin spreading. It makes me want to punch it clean off his fucking face.
“I’m here to rescue my bride, of course.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Your bride,” I say, his words like ice on my tongue. My insides tighten and fear strikes me along with that strange possessiveness.
To protect what is mine.
“That’s what I said,” he bites shoving past me, heading towards her room.
“There’s no one here,” I say. He turns towards me, cocking his head to the side.
“You’re here.”
I blink, gritting my teeth. Little shit.
“I slept in.” It’s a lie and we both know it, but right now I don’t give a shit. I’m not letting him near Ivy if it kills me.
Wyatt looks between her room and me, and I think he’s going to call me on my bluff. But he doesn’t. Instead, he saunters back towards me.
“That’s alright, I’ve got all the time in the world,” he says, wrapping his arm around me.
Fucking hell.
Ivy, Wes, Adrien, and Wyatt will return in
Rejected Prince, Blood Reign Book Two SOON!