Chapter 33
Severin
STANDING NAKED BEFORE ME, HER pale skin catching the light, Maeve looks like a goddess. Her dark purple hair hangs down her back in a straight sheet, and she holds my eyes with the conviction of someone who knows exactly what they want.
And what she wants is me. She wants me to sink my fangs into her skin, to draw her lifeblood into my mouth and feel it warm my throat. To create a connection that is both intimate and barbaric.
My fingers curl tighter into the armrests. Even from here, I can see the subtle thrum of her pulse in her throat, and I can smell her scent in the warm air. She smells like a storm.
And I’m most certain that she’s come to sweep me away.
I pull my gaze from her, focusing my stare on the big square rug beneath my boots. For a moment, I close my eyes, remember my training, the discipline I’ve worked so hard for.
If I’m going to do this, I need to be absolutely certain I’m not going to hurt her. But it seems she trusts me more than I trust myself.
Hopefully that trust isn’t misplaced.
My chest rises with a deep breath. Then I push to my feet.
Still not looking at Maeve, I reach for my shirt buttons with trembling fingers.
I’ve never been nervous about a feed before.
In decades and centuries past, it never crossed my mind to be nervous.
But with Maeve, nothing goes the way I expect.
She has a way of turning everything upside down and inside out.
And after 333 years of life going mostly how I’ve expected it to, now that I never know what’s going to happen next, I find myself treading much more carefully.
For her.
Maeve’s bare feet thump gently across the floor, and then she’s in front of me, her eyes glittering purple in the firelight.
“Let me,” she whispers.
So I do.
I drop my hands to my sides, and with deft fingers, Maeve begins to unbutton my shirt.
She works her way slowly down my torso, then slips the fabric off, dropping it to the rug.
Her lips find my shoulder, and she presses delicate kisses along my skin, then across my collarbone, to the divot at the base of my neck.
I close my eyes and tip my head back, a sigh already rising to my lips as her mouth explores my skin.
With my eyes still closed, I feel her fingers at my waistband, loosening the cord on my trousers, then easing the fabric down. And she surprises me yet again when she lowers herself to the floor before me.
My eyes open, and she’s on her knees, staring up at me, her beautiful body exposed in the light of the fire. Just seeing her there, with heat in her gaze, makes the blood rush to my cock, and it hardens in response. She smiles.
With a hand that doesn’t shake, she reaches out, wrapping her fingers around my cock. And she begins to stroke me. Her touch is gentle, gliding across my skin.
Then she takes me into her mouth, and I moan.
Her lips are like velvet, and her tongue drags along the underside of my shaft, then circles and flicks my sensitive tip. I have to reach out and steady myself on the back of the armchair as she begins to suck me more voraciously, her hands working in tandem with her mouth.
My gums ache, and my fangs begin to produce venom. It’s bitter on my tongue, sharp and demanding. When I begin to picture my fangs piercing Maeve’s skin, I get harder, already chasing an orgasm.
I think Maeve is going to suck me until I cum, but she guides my dick out of her mouth, then waits until I look down and meet her gaze.
Lips glistening, she whispers, “Are you ready?”
I don’t speak. I’m not sure I can.
But I nod.
Reaching down, I offer Maeve a hand, helping her back to her feet.
Then, for the first time since I stepped into this room, I take the lead.
My hands find Maeve’s waist, and I lift her up. Her legs come around my waist, her arms encircling my neck.
When she kisses me, she tastes like lavender and chamomile, with just a hint of salt underneath. I carry her across the room to the bed—the same bed where I first buried myself inside her, where I made her cum on the night when the veil between worlds was thinnest.
I ease onto the bed, Maeve still wrapped around me. When I lay her down, her head on a plush pillow, I have to take a moment to center myself.
Just looking at her makes me ache, makes my blood rush through my veins in time with the steady thrumming of my heart.
My hands are on either side of Maeve’s head, sinking into the soft mattress. She reaches up, her eyes searching mine, and trails a hand along my temple, then cradles my cheek in her palm. I turn my face into her touch, seeking her warmth, her grounding.
And I swear, just beneath her skin, I can feel the crackle of lightning in her veins.
“Severin,” she whispers.
Her voice is richer than whiskey, smoother than the softest silk the kingdoms have to offer. And when I meet her gaze again, I know it’s time.
More venom drips onto my tongue.
“Are you cert—”
Maeve puts a finger to my lips. “Yes.”
I flex my jaw. Inside me, the predator lurks, circling, watching, waiting for its chance.
I shift my weight to one hand, then slowly brush Maeve’s long hair back from her neck. Her throat is smooth, her skin warm. And her pulse flutters there, each beat of her heart sending her scent swirling around me, a mix of rain and lightning and the heavy musk of lust.
Between our bodies, Maeve reaches down to take my cock in her hand. She guides my tip to her slick cunt, then meets my eyes.
I don’t know how I’m going to survive this—how I’m going to feel the rapture of her body while trying to control the rapacious thirst clawing at my throat and burning through my veins.
But she trusts me. I see it in her eyes, smell it in the air. She doesn’t fear me, even if I feel she should.
I fear me. But only around her.
She waits, patient, eyes lit by firelight.
“This will hurt,” I tell her. “But only for a moment.” My fingers trail across her skin, circling the place where my fangs will puncture her throat. “My venom will dull the pain, but it takes a moment to move through the bloodstream.”
“I know.”
I tip my head at her, eyes narrowing, and she smiles that little smile that promises both pleasure and danger.
“I did my research, Professor.”
Of course she did.
My fingers brush her throat again. “Are you sure you’re—”
“Severin D’Arques,” she says, tone sharp, fingers squeezing around my cock. “If you continue to stall, I’m going to pin you to this bed and—”
I cover her mouth with mine, kissing the words from her tongue. The taste of my venom mixes with the soft flavor of lavender, and Maeve wraps one arm around my neck, her other hand still holding my shaft, dragging my tip through her slick folds.
She’s ready.
And I’ll never be.
But I can’t let that stop me.
I pull back from our kiss and press my forehead to Maeve’s, drawing in one last steadying breath.
Then I turn her head to one side and trail my nose across her throat, breathing in the scent of her blood. My cock and fangs throb as my heart thrums hard.
“Try not to move,” I whisper to her, my lips ghosting across her skin.
She nods once.
I use the weight of my body to press her into the mattress, wanting to hold her still. At the same time, I ease my cock inside her, feeling her pussy stretch around me, hot and wet. The sensation distracts her, and she draws a breath.
Then I pull my lips back, baring my fangs.
And I pierce her throat, sinking them through her creamy skin.
She flinches beneath me, her body’s natural reaction to the pain, but I hold her firm, pinning her body to the bed. If she tries to wrench herself free, her skin will tear.
Almost there, I think, letting my venom flood her bloodstream. You’re doing so well.
I can feel the flow of her blood across the tips of my fangs, each beat of her heart so close to me that it might as well be my own.
And I feel the exact second the venom takes effect. Her body relaxes beneath mine, no longer fighting against the excruciating pain.
Around my cock, she gets wetter, and a soft breath leaves her lips, forming the sound of my name.
“Severin . . .”
And for the first time in a very, very long time, I draw blood from a live vein.
Maeve’s lifeblood courses into my mouth, slick and hot.
It coats my tongue, sweeter and more delicious than even my wildest fantasies led me to believe.
And beneath that taste is a hint of storm, of lightning ripping across the sky.
It makes my hair stand on end, goose bumps dancing across my naked skin.
As I draw her blood into my mouth, I press my cock deep inside her, until she gasps, her breath fluttering over my shoulder. My body hungers for her even as her blood satiates the thirst I’ve been fighting since first exchanging heated words with her in my class that day.
I’ve dreamt of this moment, have touched myself to the thought of being buried inside her, my fangs in her throat and my cock stretching her wide.
And I can’t believe we’re here now, can’t believe she trusted me with this.
But she did.
I curl the fingers of one hand into the plush blankets, grounding myself, reminding myself that I have to be careful.
This isn’t a random feed in a darkened bar, messy and rushed and meaningless.
This is Maeve.
My Maeve.
My storm.
And I’m going to treat her like the delicate, powerful, extraordinary being she is.