Chapter 41 #2
But my hunger, my starvation, burned and burned.
The ache between my legs, in my breasts, in the delicate flesh where his mouth caressed me, was unbearable.
I had the sudden, shockingly clear thought that if the way I felt now, desperate for touch, was the way Septimus felt for blood, then it was a miracle he managed to function at all.
My hand slid up his back, trailing over the lines of muscle and bone, then wove messily into his hair. Demanding.
I tilted my head so that my lips were against his ear.
And I commanded, “Drink.”
He hissed against my skin, only managing, “Careful.”
It was his voice. And yet, it wasn’t—still this untethered version of him, all veneers of civility stripped away. And the way he sounded now, undone and ravenous, made the thrill uncontrollable.
I managed a weak laugh. “You know me. I never am.”
I didn’t know what it was about this response that seemed to light Septimus on fire, but it thrilled me that it did.
He let out another groan, body pressing harder against mine.
His teeth skimmed over me, as if searching for a new mark to make.
Now his lips moved up to the angle of my jaw, tongue rolling slowly against a wound there, drawing fresh blood.
Returned to the bite he’d left, drinking deep.
A surge of heat ripped through my veins.
I could feel him manipulating my blood, pulling it to the surface.
And maybe he sensed or tasted my pleasure, what I really wanted, because with an abrupt, feral movement, his hand moved to my thigh and pulled it open, angling me as he ground against my aching core.
The shock of pleasure was devastating. The sound I made was wordless, unintentional.
He hummed his approval in response. His teeth slid into my skin again, creating a new mark, and just as the pain hit, he pushed himself against me once more, slow and intentional and targeted, his length rubbing against my slit through our clothing.
This time, there was nothing muffled about the sound I made.
“Fuck,” I gasped. The only word I could find.
My body burned. The desire was now beyond my control.
My knees clenched around his hips, drawing him closer.
My abdomen was so tight that it trembled, hips rolling, chasing that friction again.
And of course, Septimus, a creature who had spent decades learning how to see what people desired, recognized exactly what I wanted. And even in this state, half out of his mind, I was so grateful that he decided to give it to me that I could have wept.
He sucked at the fresh wound he’d made. And then tasted my other wounds again, firm and demanding, this time moving down to my shoulder. He yanked down my jacket, breaking free another clasp, exposing a fresh expanse of skin.
Pain, as he bit.
Pleasure, as he dragged his cock against me.
I clung to him, cursing against his ear.
Distantly, I felt the world shake as another roll of thunder shook the earth; distantly, I saw light surge across the sky.
None of it existed. Not the rain, or the storm, or the blood, or the soulless shrieking in the distance.
It was just me, and Septimus, and all our wants, so close and so far away.
Finding in each other depraved pleasure in a depraved world.
And gods, I was chasing it. I didn’t care if I’d regret it later. My purpose in this life narrowed to Septimus and his glorious mouth and his glorious pain and the glorious friction where his body moved against mine.
And when he tried to stop, tried to draw away, I roughly tightened my legs around him. My fingers clawed at his back. The unspoken command was clear and definitive as I yanked his hips to mine, tilting my own to rub against him.
He liked this.
I felt—actually felt, I was certain, even through the layers of clothing—his cock twitch in approval. This came with a surge of delight. I wanted to reduce him to the puddle he’d made of me. I wanted to see him unravel with want, as I did.
Pain, as his teeth pierced my flesh, drawing fresh blood.
Pleasure, as he stroked me again.
Again.
Again.
Our rhythm became quick, desperate. His tongue rolled against my skin, coaxing forth more and more blood.
I chased every movement, every bite, every swallow.
The emptiness inside me was suddenly unbearable, and in a mind addled with venom and drugs and sex, I wanted to strip off everything that separated us and let him sink into me.
But that would mean stopping, and I wouldn’t. Couldn’t.
We rushed toward the precipice together.
His mouth worked greedily against my throat.
His fingers dug into my thigh, angling me how he wanted me.
My body coiled, tighter, and tighter, and everything disappeared except my desire to plunge over that cliff with him, to let him taste me as I came.
And I knew he wanted that, too. Perhaps even more than I did.
I remembered the look in his eye when I’d taunted him in Bosqua. Do you want to see what I look like when I come?
Distantly, I tried to remember why we were doing this to begin with. I lifted the cigarillo to my lips again, sucking in a deep lungful of smoke.
But he seized my wrist with his free hand, forcing it to the wall. His mouth withdrew from his latest bite, skimming up to my jaw, tongue darting out against a wound on my cheek. And then his mouth, warm, wet with my blood, skimmed ever so lightly over mine, his breath mingling against my own.
My eyes opened. His, dilated and bloody red, bored into mine. His next stroke was focused and deliberate and struck every nerve exactly where I wanted it. His tongue, soft and gentle, licked the blood from my lower lip at the exact same moment I let out another desperate moan.
And then he clutched my wrist and my thigh, opening me against the wall, as his mouth came to my throat again, and his teeth sank deep for one last drink.
As he thrust his hips against mine.
As euphoria crashed over me, devastating beyond mortality, just as the streak of lightning cracked across the sky.
“Septimus,” I gasped, his name breaking free from my lips without my permission, as I clawed and squirmed and trembled against him, wave after wave of pleasure wracking through me.
And perhaps it was my orgasm—or perhaps it was the way I said his name—because he clutched me, and drank, and I felt his body tense with mine. Felt it shudder with his own climax, his hips working against mine as if desperate to feel each clench of my walls through our clothing.
He groaned my name against my throat. Over and over, like a prayer. And I had never felt like more of a savior.
Slowly, the fire faded from my veins.
A barrage of delicate droplets rained down around us. Not the rain, but the threads of our blood, suspended by Septimus’s feral magic, falling to the stone floor.
Weakness washed over me.
Septimus’s teeth had withdrawn, though his lips still caressed the wounds they’d left behind, gentle and reverent. The sting was oddly pleasant. His thumb moved back and forth, back and forth, against my thigh, a rhythmic caress.
He lifted his head.
The eyes that met me were a familiar silver-and-amber, framed with a receding ring of red. They were his.
And yet, they were still so shockingly hungry. His want for me had nothing to do with his curse. Still as fierce and uncontrollable in lucidity as it was in the grips of his bloodlust.
I enjoyed that. A spark of pleasure ran up my spine, centering where our hips still locked together. I still felt the want, too, even as the venom faded.
It should have terrified me. But it didn’t.
Septimus’s expression shifted. He blinked, as if trying to clear his head.
“Kyrene,” he murmured again. This time more urgently, laced with something I couldn’t quite place.
I smiled. “Welcome back.”
The words, to my surprise, were a little slurred. I was suddenly very tired. Or maybe extremely high.
I didn’t realize my head was lolling until his grip, firm and frantic, steadied it, palm against my cheek.
“You fool,” he breathed. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
I laughed. The sound was very far away. “Oh, shush. You loved it.”
Hell, I wouldn’t mind doing it again. Maybe right now. We were going to die anyway. Might as well fulfill this burning sexual tension.
I thought about telling him so, but the words got lost somewhere between my chest and my mouth.
“Kyrene, look at me,” Septimus said. I wondered why he sounded so concerned. And I wanted to look at him, wanted to tease him about it, but I realized I couldn’t move my head.
I slumped over, despite my best efforts. I felt his arms around me, firm and warm. And that was all, as everything faded away.