24. Loathing #2
The tip of his length prodded at my bottom. Keeping hold of his eyes, I reached between his legs and took hold of him. I had to push myself higher to straighten the turgid length. Veins throbbed under his skin; where they bulged, a faint discoloration marked the surface.
I slowly lowered, taking the tip inside my channel.
His manhood quivered as I sank down on his engorged flesh.
Moisture trickled down his length and to my hand where I gripped him.
My channel clamped down on him, and I took another inch, watching the length enter me.
Despite the pinch from the stretch, the sensation outweighed any possible discomfort.
I took more of him and stopped at the swell of his knot at the base.
Cassiel watched me from where he lay with such intensity, mouth parted and fangs on display. I pressed down to take his knot.
Cassiel’s neck strained as he tilted his head back, arms flexing as he fisted the blankets underneath him. I sank onto him, trying to keep my hips still. I released a gust of air.
“I must taste you.” His hands on my hips pulled me off his cock until I knelt on the bed. “Straddle my face.”
I gasped, scandalized. He took hold of my thigh and tugged me, successfully wrenching me from my shock. “B-but I—”
He managed to have me straddle his neck, my bottom resting against his chest, drenched sex near his face.
He seemed hungrier, hands resting on my hips, fingers digging into my flesh to yank me forward.
My sex pressed to his mouth and he plunged his tongue deep inside me.
I fell forward, my hands dropping onto his mess of hair.
It did not take more than a curve of his tongue prodding against my clit to have me riding his face.
My thighs tightened around his face as an orgasm wracked my frame.
Bliss rippled through my senses. Raking my fingers through my hair, I looked down at him, bare breasts heaving. He watched me with a heated look. Another throb of my channel urged me to be filled.
I crawled down his body until I had him in hand, his turgid length once again against my entrance.
He groaned, pumping upward as I sank down on him.
Watching pleasure flit over his features made me want more. I rolled my hips, popping his knot out before taking it again. Each movement caused a different sensation to assault my sex.
I panted, my chest rising and falling. Cassiel reached and cupped my breast, rubbing his thumb over the nipple. His features softened. That vulnerability on his face spurred my own.
“Do you find my scarlet blood repulsive?”
Confusion flitted across his face. “What?” he mumbled, hips bucking up.
I bit the inside of my cheek to stop my moan. Rolling my hips made him lower his eyelids. “Are you worried there is still poison in me? Is that the reason you fed on an animal?” I forced out in a blurted stream.
He pursed his mouth and grunted, thrusting up into me while pulling me down by the hips. My hand fell on his navel. I scraped my fingernails along the pale, almost translucent hair below it.
He sat up, shifting the position to wind his arms around my torso. My groan echoed his. He pressed his cheek against the top of my head, his body began to tremble.
There was no need for me to place effort because he braced me up with his hands on my bottom. I ran my nose along his neck, breathing him in. His scent wracked another pulse of sensation through me.
If I had been told days ago I would be in his arms, hungry for his touch, I would have called them mad.
Rumbles from deep in his torso left him.
“Are you laughing?” I tensed, and it made my channel flutter around his thick steel.
“That is why you followed me out.” He pulled back, eyebrows raised high. “You were offended I have not fed from you.”
“Do not look too gleeful,” I huffed. “You were gone a long while.”
Cassiel twisted us, and I landed on my back. He pumped inside, head falling forward. His thrust erased my thoughts. I arched my hips, taking his slow thrusts even deeper. The steady pace maddened me.
“Faster,” I moaned, hiking up to take more. Sliding my hands down to his waist, I sank my fingernails into the muscle at his sides. “Cassiel,” I moaned.
His pace stuttered; instead of growing faster, he forced it back into a slow glide. The swell came abruptly and harshly, my channel clamping around him.
‘My need for you is a desperation that I will never escape.’
He uttered such sweet words that I did not want to hear. He could say all this and never understand what he had broken.
His fingers curled into my hips, his head falling back. His sharp fangs flashed from between his parted lips.
“How I loathe you, Lord Cassiel Draven,” I whispered.
‘I never want to escape you.’
Still, he continued.
I gritted my teeth and rolled my hips, taking another inch of his length inside me.
All in an effort to stop his declarations.
Cassiel moaned, and even the sounds he made caused such a visceral flush through my veins.
Deny it as I might, he was rewriting me into something I had no wish to become.
My channel fluttered around him and I took his knot.
Moans escaped from me as the pressure increased and the angle left me feeling full. I stayed pressed down on his base, rolling my hips in circles to feel every inch of his cock inside me.
He hissed and seated his knot into me, stretching me with it. He ground against me, keeping us flush. The rub against my clit shot me into another release.
My mouth had become bone dry.
The soft swell of release took me to another realm. Cassiel fell over me, his weight heavy and suffocating. I grunted, and he scooted half of himself off, keeping his arm tossed over my body. His knot kept us locked together.
We lay panting in a tangle of limbs. I hovered between the line of ecstasy and sleep. I ran my hands down his arms, caressing the deep slashes of claw-marks running down them.
“I have fed on animals only when necessary,” he said dryly. “It is not a preference of mine. They taste of dust.”
I hummed. Not having the energy to speak.
My draw to him was unmistakable. The barrier I had raised, the misgivings I clung to—neither survived what he did to me.
I tangled my fingers through his tawny hair.
“No, I do not believe you still have poison in your blood. You need to be completely healed. I did not want to weaken you.” He yawned, bucking his hips against mine, grinding his knot inside me.
My breath caught.
His length twitched, and his knot gave. A flood of moisture slicked between our sex. He groaned, a shiver cresting across his back.
He unmade me, turning me into this needy, unrecognizable creature. Even so, resisting the pleasure held no appeal. I waited for his soft exhale and the rhythm of his breathing to steady.
I lingered in his arms . . . What was I doing sitting here caressing him? It was a boundary I must not cross. After sliding out from under him, I tiptoed away from the slumbering Warlord, only pausing to collect a gown from the open wardrobe.
I escaped to a different chamber I claimed as my own, refusing to slumber in the same bed as Cassiel. For all my weakness for him, I insisted that this was a matter of the body and nothing more. Ours was a connection of convenience . . . and necessity.