Chapter 6 #3
Her fangs sank into his femoral artery, and she lost what tiny bit of humanity she clung to.
His blood mingled with the semen in her mouth, creating a blended essence that was the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted.
She circled his powerful thigh with both arms, embracing it like a lover, her throat working with each gulping swallow.
“Fucking bitch,” he spat. “You goddamned fucking bitch. You’re stealing my right to give what belongs to me.”
She heard the anchors in the wall creak in protest as Elijah strained against his bonds, a testament to how strong he was, so strong that the silver that incapacitated most vamps wanting a true submissive experience was barely enough to contain him.
Dizzyingly intoxicated, Vash slid her fangs free and closed the punctures with soothing licks of her tongue.
“I can’t stop,” she whispered, achingly empty and needing him, despite the terrible effort she’d made not to. No lycan could tolerate being caged, and Elijah was no mere lycan. He was an Alpha. As rare as a new angel and in some ways just as fragile.
She crawled over him, putting her back to his enraged face and training her eyes on the door.
A door that would see them exiting far differently than they’d come in.
His fury was pulsing off him in searing, battering waves.
Yet she couldn’t stop herself from gripping his still-hard cock and positioning herself over the massive crown.
“Don’t do this,” he warned in a thick, hoarse voice. She licked the taste of him off her suddenly dry lips.
“I…need you.”
“Not like this, Vashti. Don’t take me like this.”
Their intimate flesh touched. The lips of her sex hugged him, flexing gently around him. Her hand gripping him shook like a junky’s in need of a fix. “This is the only way I can have you.”
Vash sheathed him in a swift plunge of her hips. He roared as she cried out, her body shocked by a penetration it hadn’t experienced for over half a century.
The cement wall behind the bed exploded with a deafening sound; dust and debris burst in a cloud around her. She was catapulted forward violently, her body thrust toward the door, and down, her torso slammed into the mattress with breathtaking force.
She was mounted before she knew what hit her, Elijah’s rock-hard body nailing her to the bed with a powerful thrust of his rigid cock into her aching sex. The coils of cable that had failed to contain him thudded to the floor, the sound reverberating through her.
Elijah wrapped his forearm with the spilled length of her hair. Fisting the tresses at the root, he pulled her head back and growled in her ear, “You can’t tame me.”
He shifted his hips, pulling free of her clinging depths only to drive into her again. “You can’t chain me.”
Yanking her up by the hips and hair, he brought her to her hands and knees. “And you goddamn can’t rape me.”
His next lunge hit the end of her, driving his supremacy home with a heavy surge of his hips.
She cried out, completely at the mercy of his primal need for her and her own for him.
He pounded into her, riding her hard and deep, stroking over and over and over a tender spot inside her that made her shake and moan.
She had no leverage, no way to move or participate. Or so she told herself.
It was a lie, of course. He was stronger than she was, but she could fight him off. She could hurt him, make him work for it. They both knew she could. Yet she let him have his way, for reasons she couldn’t grasp.
Something broke free inside her.
Set adrift, she clung to Elijah as the only anchor against the storm that whipped through her. Tears fell. Her chest ached. Her body burned with the feverish pleasure buffeting her from all sides, shattering the walls that had protected her for so long.
He gave her no quarter. Elijah fucked her like the animal he was, rutting into her with unmitigated ferocity.
She climaxed in a helpless rush, screaming his name because he didn’t relent, didn’t falter.
He kept driving the ecstasy into her, making her take it.
All that he was. Everything. Beyond what she could handle, beyond what she’d tried to limit herself to.
He followed her down when she melted into the mattress, her head and shoulders hanging off the edge.
“You’ll take me as I am,” he snarled. “You’ll want me as I am. Or you won’t have me at all.”
His knee shoved her legs wider; his big cock sank a fraction deeper.
His grip on her hair pulled her head down toward the floor, forcing her into the most submissive of poses.
She felt his teeth sink into the nape of her neck, his canines inhumanly long, his bite firm enough to break the skin but not tear it.
Subdued, mounted, and dominated in every way, Vashti came again and again, sobbing her pleasure, shame, and guilt. Begging him to forgive her. To finish her. To fill her.
Which he did, hours later, pumping his lust and fury into the greedy depths of her body, emptying himself with a serrated groan that sounded like the sweetest agony.