Chapter 4 #2
He kissed her like he’d been starving his whole life, and she kissed him as if she had never been so eager to feed him.
His hands slipped around her thighs and dragged her closer to the edge of the table. Her fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him down, pulling him in, blood smearing into his shirt. He didn’t care that her skin was cold or that her heart didn’t beat.
He wanted her in a way that he could no longer control, despite his mother’s warnings.
Now.
Here.
On the table meant for the dead.
The moans she let escape were like a drug to his very veins as his mouth latched onto her throat, and she arched into it.
She gasped softly when his hand slid between her legs, finding her already wet.
It didn’t make sense. Nothing about her did. But he was a man possessed, and she had all the power here under the fluorescent lights of the room.
Her skin was cool to the touch, and when he slid two fingers inside her, it was like slipping into the lining of your favorite jacket after being left outside on a fall day. Cold at first, but comforting, and an instant dose of gooseflesh that followed.
She whimpered, and her feet slid against the smooth surface as she tried to move in time with the slow pumps of his fingers.
“You’re not supposed to be like this,” he breathed against her neck. “You’re not supposed to feel like this.”
“I’m yours,” she whispered, lips brushing his ear. She practically bucked her hips off completely off the table when his thumb circled her clit with firm, continuous pressure. “Make me yours all the way.”
The sound of his belt hitting the floor was loud, but it didn’t deter either of them from frantically pawing at one another.
Her fingers helped, greedy to rid him of his pants.
Isaac kept one hand between her legs as he kicked off his boots and let her tug his pants down over his thighs before kicking them off as well.
Flattening his palm against her clit, he added a third finger to help her get used to the stretch that awaited her.
A cry bounced off the walls, and he paused, panting and breathless as he looked down at her.
Her wound was still leaking, though not as steady as before.
The blood was all over her pale skin, his hands, and by the way her fingers were slipping off his buttons, most likely his shirt.
He slowly removed his fingers and brought his hands over hers.
“Did I hurt you?”
Shaking her head, she continued to unbutton his shirt, and he shrugged out of it before tossing his undershirt over his head and to the floor to meet it.
“You said you hadn’t been touched before, so I—”
“It’s fine, Isaac. I know that the first time is supposed to hurt.”
Her eyes looked down at his cock and took in the length and thickness with a deep inhale. Even though she didn’t need oxygen anymore, it sure looked like she was deprived of it right now.
There was something in him that didn’t want her to only think this was going to be painful.
Grabbing her hips, he pulled her down the table until her ass was seated at the edge. Lenoria tried to prop herself onto her elbows to look at him, but they slid in the blood that had pooled around her, and she wound up flat on her back once more.
“Are you going to do it now?” she asked, and Isaac felt a deep pang in his chest at the sound of how nervous she was.
This was the first time she truly sounded afraid.
After going through a literal trip to hell and back, she was scared to have sex for the first time. His beautiful little broken bird.
“Not yet.”
“Why n—unghh!”
His tongue was between her swollen pussy lips before his knees even hit the ground, lapping at the silky flesh of her clit and teasing the opening with his forefinger.
He hummed against her in delight as she gasped his name and told him to stop.
Told him it was too much. Told him she would surely die again.
But he kept going, licking her like the delicious treat she was.
Fuck, her scent was so earthy and feminine, and no one had ever come close to invoking the emotions raging through him in that moment.
“Isaac, I can’t. It’s too much,” Lenoria sobbed even as her hands gripped his head and held his face between her legs. “Why does it feel like that?”
Tracing the slit with his tongue in one long, broad swipe of his tongue had her moaning his name again, and he smiled against her. “It feels good because I could bury my tongue inside your heat for eternity and never tire of your taste.”
Disentangling himself from her grip, he stood and wrapped her legs around his waist, and looked down at her glistening golden curls wet from his attention. It was time.
He lined himself up with trembling hands as the prep table creaked beneath them. And when he slid into her, he nearly choked.
She was cold when he seated himself to the hilt. His whole body shivered in response, and still, she gripped him like she had been made for this.
Her body welcomed him like a tomb welcomes the dead.
“Fuck,” he groaned when her pussy pulsated around him. He withdrew, taking with him her hymen and any chance for her to belong to anyone but him, and pushed inside her again.
“Lenoria—”
“How,” she panted, stale air escaping her as she looked at him. “Did you know my name?”
Isaac dropped his forehead against hers, their eyes locking even as they joined below. “Because I’ve heard your name in my head since before I can remember, too. Lenoria, Lenoria, Lenoria—”
“Yes,” she gasped. “Say it again.”
He thrust deep, and her body swallowed him whole, her name a low chant on his lips now that the spell of whatever was working against them had taken hold. His hands fumbled for the metal tray beside them, and when he looked down at his fingers, they were bloody and covered with her slick.
He grabbed the trocar—not to harm her, but to subdue. He slid the cold instrument between her teeth as her back arched off the table.
“Bite,” he commanded. “Don’t scream.”
She held the long piece of metal between her teeth and moaned around the intrusion to her mouth and psyche as he gripped her hands and held them above her head over the table.
Her virginity was his to covet, and it made him feel powerful and invincible. He pounded into her harder. Faster. The metal edge of the table bruised his thighs. The scent of antiseptic and lust filled the room until he thought he might pass out.
Isaac was losing himself in this lithe creature beneath him. She had him wrapped around her finger as she stared up at him through her wide, unblinking eyes.
And he didn’t care.
“You belong to me,” he whispered.
She let the instrument fall from her lips as she cried out when he rolled his hips upward, and he felt the beginning pulses of her cunt as she neared the edge.
Isaac released her hands and braced one on her shoulder, and the other reached between them to pinch and roll her clit between his fingers in time with his movements. “We belong to each other.”
And she shattered around him with a cry so soft it sounded like a prayer.
He followed her with a groan, hips jerking as he spilled inside her.
She pulled him in until he was lying on top of her on the table, his cum dripping out of her even as he was still throbbing inside through his release.
Lenoria reached down and swiped at the liquid between her legs before holding it up to look at it in the light above them.
The contents she viewed were like a fucked up trinity: blood of the dead, blood of the virgin, and release of the vessel.