40. Thirsting For Cinder
Chapter 40
Thirsting For Cinder
CHARMING
“ Y es mistress,” the words drip from my lips, still glistening with the essence of her desire. My dick twitches every time she says my name.
She owns my name. She owns my everything whether she knows it or not.
So easily, I could crumple in the palm of her hand like a piece of paper.
Then I'm there, pushing forward, sheathing myself in her scorching heat with all my flesh and hardware. Her greedy body pulls me deeper as her fingers flex against my shoulders.
“Oh fuck,” I can't help but groan at the exquisite sensation.
My head dips, ready to trail open-mouthed kisses along the tempting column of her throat.
At the last second, I jerk back, denying myself. My teeth cannot go near that delicate skin. Not her limbs either.
Only two places are safe harbors—her luscious mouth and now, her perfect pussy. As long as I stay there, burying myself in one slick heaven or the other, she'll be safe.
Well, not exactly safe. Not with the way her internal muscles are already fluttering and clenching around me like a velvet fist. Not when her breathy whimpers undo me completely, making my fangs ache to pierce her flesh and drink down her cries.
Gritting my teeth, I fight the primal urges rising up.
I have to stay in control, for her sake. I'll ravish her body with everything but my bite, ensuring only euphoric cries spill from that perfect mouth.
Yes, for now, her mouth is where I'll stake my claim, swallowing each of her delirious moans. Drinking her in utterly, yet denying my scorching thirst the ambrosia pulsing through her veins.
I sink into her molten velvet depths and nearly lose my fae fucking mind.
A broken sound escapes my lips.
Don’t lose control. You’re a grown damn man.
Again, I’m gripped with the need to pierce her, to spill that vibrant essence and drink from her neck. To mark her as mine, so everyone knows who she belongs to.
I want it so bad, my fangs ache.
But I can't. I won't.
Cinder is giving me her trust and I refuse to fuck this up.
She lets me do this even knowing the darkness in me. The violence, the thirst, the parts that take men apart for grabbing her by the neck.
Why is this so hard?
I’ve never had this intense of a reaction. This intense desire to feed from a human.
Cinder’s bucking hips erase the thought as she comes underneath me, muttering the word please on repeat like a prayer.
She milks me so intensely, I know I’m finished.
Doing my best to keep the pace going, I pound into her, drawing out her orgasm even as I’m gripped by mine.
A strangled cry escapes me as I explode, shooting my cold desire into her.
I can't help but imagine her skin under my fangs, her blood rushing over my tongue. It must taste as smoky and sweet as she does. My hunger rages like a firestorm, threatening to consume me whole.
Cinder's eyes flutter open, still dizzy with the aftermath of our encounter. Her expression is soft and trusting. I don’t know which is more responsible for it, finding the Ember of Midnight for her, or the sex.
I’m hit in the chest with a sledgehammer of unworthiness.
I’m scum.
I’m worthless.
I am not suited for responsibility or anything of importance.
And the only girl who can see through all my masks is looking at me like I matter.