Chapter 30 #2
The sight of her like this—fucking me as she waits for me to feed from her—is enough to make my dick twitch with anticipation.
I lick her neck and a moan escapes her. So sweet and ready. Then I graze my teeth and feel her shivers fill every fiber of my body. “Ready?” I ask.
“Yes.”
And then I sink my teeth into her flesh.
The moment her blood touches my tongue, I lose myself completely in her.
Gods.
I’ve tasted blood from thousands of people over almost six centuries—nobles and peasants, warriors and scholars, the innocent and the damned. I’ve drunk from every kind of human that’s ever walked this earth.
But this. This.
This is what ambrosia has to taste like. This is what the fountain of life has to offer. Talulla’s blood is the most exquisite thing I’ve ever tasted in my entire existence.
It’s not just blood. It’s her. Her essence flowing into me, becoming part of me.
I can taste her brattiness, her brightness, her smiles.
I can feel her memories—good and bad—washing over me like waves.
Her childhood in Romania. Her mother’s lullabies.
The first time she staked a vampire. The moment she realized she loved me.
It’s all of her, and she’s willingly giving it to me.
The intimacy of it is staggering. This isn’t just feeding. This is communion. This is two souls recognizing each other and choosing to become one.
And I can’t help but fill her up with my cum as she orgasms on my cock, both of us in a state of pure ecstasy that I didn’t know was possible.
I unlatch from her neck and lick her wound, feeding her some of my blood quickly so that the holes close. Nothing will ever compare to this. To the feeling of being fed pure and utter love. Any other blood will be tasteless now, and I’m not mad about it at all.
“Holy shit,” she says, dropping onto the mattress.
“Holy shit is right,” I say, doing the same.
We stay like this, entangled in each other as we realize what we just discovered. A way to be a predator without the need to kill any prey.
This is peace. After centuries of searching, of wandering, of trying to find meaning in an endless existence—this is it. This moment. Her body pressed against mine, her blood singing in my veins, her heartbeat syncing with the rhythm of my own dead heart coming back to life.
I’m home.
But the moment shatters when the bedroom door breaks open and a swarm of werewolves in uniforms bursts in.
“Flynn Lancaster, you’re under arrest and you’ll be put in immediate custody of the London division of the S.P.I.A,” the werewolf in front of me says.
No. No, not now. Not fucking now.
I throw a shirt at Talulla as I get dressed myself, my mind racing. This can’t be happening. Not tonight. Not after everything we went through.
“What?” she questions, her voice shattering in utter confusion.
“Talulla, call for help. Everything will be okay.”
She shakes her head. “Why are you arresting him?”
“He’s accused of kidnapping and turning children into vampires.”
“Are you all on crack?” she asks, laughing at the absurd accusation. Because it is absurd. Absolutely fucking absurd.
Children. They think I would turn children. The very idea makes my stomach turn. I’ve done terrible things in my long life, but that? Never. I would never inflict this curse on a child.
“Talulla, for fuck’s sake, calm down.”
“Calm down? You’re accused of murder, Flynn.”
“And you know it’s not real, okay? I need you to please find a way to calm down and think rationally,” I try to tell her, knowing well enough this will be real tough for my impulsive girl right here.
“Yeah, well, you mated the wrong fucking girl.”
“Miss Popescu, please stand back. You can come to our agency where you’ll be debriefed.”
“Okay then, we all go together.”
“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, Miss Popescu.”
“Then when can I fucking come, Mr. Asshole?”
This might turn really ugly. “Talulla, look at me,” I call her name, hoping the sound of my voice will bring her back to me, and not to the verge of breaking.
Her eyes meet mine, and I can see it as clear as a bright sunny day that she’s about to lose it.
Her eyes filled with tears search for a bit of hope, so I lift the corners of my lips and smile at the love of my life.
“Call Johnathan, and then call for help,” I say as they take me toward the door of my own fucking house.
Right after I proposed.
Right after I drank from her for the first time.
Right after we were going to promise our lives to eternity.
On her own fucking birthday.
The cruelty of the timing hits me like a physical blow. We finally had everything—the ring on her finger, her blood in my veins, the promise of forever stretching out before us. We had one perfect moment where nothing could touch us, where we were just two people in love planning their future.
And they’re ripping it away for some unknown fucking reason.
The rage that rises in me is primal, ancient, the kind of fury that could level cities. But I can’t let it out. Not now. Not with Talulla watching, not with her already on the verge of breaking. I need to be strong for her. I need to show her that this is just a setback, not the end.
But gods, I want to tear them apart. I could tear them apart.
I want to rip through every single one of these werewolves and paint the walls with their blood. I want to show them what happens when you interrupt a vampire on the night he’s just bound himself to his mate. I want to make them pay for taking this from us.
But I don’t. Because Talulla needs me to be calm. She needs me to be the steady one, the one who has a plan, the one who will come back to her.
Why the fuck can’t we have one day in peace?