37. Chapter Thirty-Seven - Thirst Quencher #3
The sensation made my slick, swollen folds quiver, blood and arousal glistening openly in the dim light.
Any last thread of composure snapped, unraveling completely, the world narrowing to just the overwhelming rush where nothing felt solid anymore.
My eyelids fluttered with a hazy heat that pulled me under, my whole self handing over completely to the way his mouth worked me over, taking in every desperate little sound I made and every tremble that ran through me.
His tongue worked me without mercy, lapping at my slit with long, greedy strokes, plunging deep, circling and sucking until my vision swam.
The wet, sloppy sounds were obscene, echoing in the room as he pressed his mouth harder against me, his tongue thrusting in and out with firm, insistent motions that made my walls clench uselessly around nothing.
When he circled my clit again, sucking it between his lips and nipping just enough to edge pain into pleasure, I lost the last of myself.
Nothing existed beyond that moment. Not the room or the night, not the memory of hands that had tried to take what wasn’t theirs. Now there was only this: Culver between my legs, kneeling like I was something holy and he was offering penance with his mouth.
I broke with a sound I didn’t recognize as my own.
A soft, strangled cry that was half sob, half plea.
My body seized as release tore through me, my pussy clenching and spasming while his tongue kept moving, lapping greedily as wave after wave crashed over me.
My hips bucked uncontrollably, thighs slick and trembling, my swollen clit throbbing under his relentless attention.
I clung to him as the final aftershocks faded, my fingers still tangled in his hair, because I didn’t know how to let go yet. I didn’t want to. I needed to feel him there, real and solid, proof that it wasn’t something I’d imagined in the wreckage of the night before.
As the intensity ebbed, my body went slack beneath him, every muscle trembling with the aftershocks.
I sank back into the mattress, chest heaving, breath coming in broken intervals that didn’t quite sync up.
Heat still pulsed low between my thighs, sensitive and overstimulated, slick warmth leaking onto the sheets as my body struggled to catch up with what had just happened.
My eyelids fluttered, heavy and unfocused, thoughts scattering like startled birds.
No one’s touch had ever sunk so deep.
Eventually, my fingers loosened their grip on his hair, sliding through the perfect strands as I forced myself to look down, needing to catch his face right then, to figure out if he looked satisfied or still starving or just as caught up as I was.
The dim light wrapped around him in shadows that made everything feel heavier, more secretive.
Then I saw the blood.
My blood streaked across his mouth, smeared over his lips and down his chin, darkening as it dried. It glistened faintly in the low light, an undeniable reminder of how completely he’d feasted on me. The sight should’ve scared me. It should’ve made my stomach drop or my chest lock up.
Instead, heat bloomed low and slow in my belly.
My body reacted before my mind could object, a fresh pulse of arousal tightening deep inside me, my pussy twitching with renewed need despite the ache.
My nipples hardened painfully, and I bit my lip, a quiet whimper threatening to escape as my thoughts betrayed me, imagining his bloodied lips trailing over my skin again.
Then the cold edge crept in slowly, making my skin prickle as reality settled heavier over me with every passing second.
Because in the darkness, his eyes shifted.
They weren’t catching stray light. They were lit from within, vivid and unnatural, glowing with a brightness that did not belong to anything human.
I’d seen them earlier, but my mind had been too fractured to understand what I was looking at.
Now clarity slid into place with cold, suffocating certainty.
The stories surfaced unbidden. Whispers traded through the Appalachian Mountains, warnings passed between locals and drunk hikers alike.
If you ever see human eyes glowing in the dark, they’d said, run. My body went very still.
Culver licked his lips slowly, savoring the remnants of me.
That was when I saw them: two elongated canines slipping free beneath his upper lip, sharp and elegant and unmistakable.
They were fangs. Then his mouth opened wider. Far wider than it should have.
The movement stretched unnaturally, the hinge of his jaw lowering with smooth, horrific ease that no human body could replicate, his mouth pulling open in a way that made my stomach twist violently.
It looked wrong. Predatory. Like something wearing the shape of a man while forgetting the limits of one.
The shadows caught along the inside of his mouth, too dark, too deep, and my body reacted, bracing away from him as my breathing turned erratic and scattered.
Silence fell over the room, thick and absolute, pressing against my ears until it felt deafening.
My heart pounded wildly, wondering if I was prey to some unknown creature.
Or something worse.