Chapter 3
THEODORE
Two heartbeats.
One steady and fast—panic and adrenaline pumping through veins that reek of alcohol. The other, though…it’s slower. Labored. A dying rhythm.
Every movement cuts through the stillness. From the snap of twigs and mud sucking at rubber soles to the desperate shuffle of prey that doesn’t realize it’s already cornered.
They reek of cheap spirits and grime, drunken fools, but beneath the repulsive stench, there’s more. A scent hits the back of my throat then, thick and cloying, with an abrasive undertone of sulfur that makes my mate grimace as her hand slips into mine.
I yank her to me before wrapping a hand around her waist, gripping tight. The one holding her hand now cradles the back of her neck, and I press her sweet face against my chest. She breathes me in a few times, her petite frame relaxing while her small teeth nip my skin more than once.
Naughty little thing. So playful.
The intruders move closer—heavy footsteps. They shouldn’t be here.
My lands are protected, wards placed by Gabriella herself…
especially for tonight. They’re meant to keep the predators in and the living out, and yet these men have interrupted my private time with my queen.
A fault of my own, one I’ll remedy soon—the protection recognizes power, not intent—and these two reek of flesh and greed.
Stupid, weak humans.
“You think they’re still chasing us?” a gruff, older voice asks. Beneath the tone, there’s pain. A lot of it. “We’ve been running from the police for days now.”
“Just a little further up.” This man is definitely younger. Impatient. Annoyed. “The stupid witch said to follow the underground tunnels—”
I stop listening then. Completely unnecessary when the criminal mastermind is currently giggling in my arms, shoulders shaking, while the bond between us floods with amusement.
At the sound, the men pause, their acrid scents now tinged with want.
Curiosity. Fear. Impatience.
“Did you hear that, Jay?”
“I did, Son. A cute, girlish laugh.” A groan leaves his lips, but that soon turns to coughs. “It's been a while since we’ve shared something tight and soft.”
“That fucking witch interrupted our time with the blonde in the alleyway,” the younger spits.
His anger ripples from him, but beneath the false bravado, he’s scared.
On edge. I like it. “The redheaded cunt better be right about the gold and healing amulet. I won’t help you again after this, Father. ”
They’re not far from us, picking up the pace while the sick one of the two struggles a bit. He stumbles, a few curses escaping, while I tug my pretty girl’s hair back and force her red eyes up to mine.
Why Gabriella sent them here doesn’t matter to me. They’re dead men walking either way.
“You’ll pay for this interruption, my love.”
“Do your worst, Mr. Astor.”
“As you wish.” I slam my mouth down to hers, taking it in a quick and brutal kiss before flipping her around. Her back is to my chest, my arm tight across her midsection, before I move.
The air cracks as I leap, landing silently on a branch high above the forest floor. The wood bows, but doesn’t break. It holds my weight, but the height doesn’t hide her scream as I impale her on my shaft.
I’m buried to the hilt in one brutal stroke, her sweet little cunt stretching to accommodate me, and I revel in the way she clenches—her body giving in to the pleasure and pain only her mate could gift her.
I don’t stop either; I fuck her with relentless strokes.
Suspended in the air, she’s leaning on me and under my control.
I maneuver her to my liking. Hold her close, my unoccupied hand wrapping around her throat as I pump my hips at a rapid pace. There’s no time to plead, much less hold back her screams, and the men run toward us now.
They ignore every warning. The air is filled with their groans and my wife’s pleasure.
“Theo, I’m so close. Please don’t stop.”
“Come for me, Queen Astor. Bathe your king.” The branch trembles, a few leaves falling seconds before the two intruders break through the trees.
From our position, I see their heads turning left and right, their body language anxious, while my mate tightens.
She’s strung tight, breath shuddering, and every tremor runs through me before settling on my balls.
My cock drips pre-come against her walls, my fangs against her skin. This time, I bite down on her shoulder—she screams, loud and wanton. I tighten my grip on her neck. Own her.
Gabriella’s caught between my hand and the night while the men below turn rabid. They’re arguing, pushing each other, and trying to find the source, but come up empty over and over again. The younger looks up, but is distracted by the sudden rustling of a bush where a rabbit is trying to hide.
Fucking idiot.
“Theo, please,” she whimpers. I can feel every tremor that rips through her, love the way her heady scent curls around us, and each pulse makes her tighter around me.
Her breath catches, and my control breaks.
The next snap of my hips is meant to hurt, and it’s in that pain that my pretty girl comes for me. It crashes into her, each wave of pleasure ripping her apart until what’s left in my grip is pliant and soft. So fucking sweet.
And it’s only when the last tremor rocks her and she sags against me that I drop behind the men. If they notice me or not, it makes no difference. Their end won’t change.
Before the first head turns, I punch through the younger man’s back, tearing his heart out.
His father sees my hand, takes note of the bloody organ held by my fingers, and meets the same fate before he can scream.
Both bodies land with a dull thud, gaping holes in their chests and the useless muscles still twitching beside their bodies.
My pretty girl watches but remains silent, her pussy clenching and gyrating every few seconds as a recompense. It isn’t enough. Not when this interruption is of her making, noble act or not.
I could’ve jailed them days ago and killed them after, but she wanted this. Chose this.
With that thought, I snarl and toss her into the air, turning her upside down in my grip. She squeals, blood spiking with adrenaline, then lust as her mouth hovers close to my cock.
I haven’t come yet, and I won’t, but that doesn’t mean I’m not due a prize.
Another little shift, and my cock sits against her lips in this position. Her pussy is in plain view—spread as I take hold of her hips and begin walking back toward our castle. Stroll leisurely. No rush.
She’s pink and soft, so fucking wet, and I watch how her juices flow from that tiny, clenching hole.
It pools at her entrance. This position doesn’t leave room for her wetness to drip, and I stop just long enough to lift her to my lips and run the flat of my tongue from her ass to clit, then place her back into position.
Her rough exhale against my engorged head feels good, but when she opens her mouth, tongue sliding…
“That’s it, baby. Fuck, you're my good girl.” At my praise, Gabriella whimpers, bobbing her head faster. She takes me from tip to base, using her throat as a cock sleeve a few times before pulling back so just the head sits on her tongue.
She flicks it. Sucks it. That sinful, pouty mouth worships me.
“Suck,” I command, letting go of her right hip so I can smack her pussy with three fingers. I catch her bundle of nerves and slick lips hard enough to sting, and she tenses. Whimpers for me. Her slick juices splatter my chest. “I want to fuck that pretty mouth, Mrs. Astor.”
“Please, Theo…” a cry this time, my direct slap to her cunt shaking her “…use me.”
“Then open. Open and hold still.” My mate does as I ask, lips wide with my swollen tip at the opening. Soft. Wet. Heat. “Motherfucking perfection.”
It’s a hiss. I thrust deep and fast, sliding down her throat until her lips meet the base. She swallows a few times, hollowing her cheeks as I continue to walk. Every few steps is a snap of my hips, enjoying her lack of a gag reflex as her throat muscles work me.
I’m not gentle. This isn’t meant to be sweet.
I don’t pause or slow down until we’re inside our home and walking into the throne room.
Only then do I release my mate, pulling out from her swollen mouth. She complains, the sounds full of annoyance, but I ignore her.
Once she’s on her feet and stable, I walk to the dais and sit on my throne.
Gabriella narrows her eyes; they’re full of fire and demand an explanation. But I’m not the one who interrupted our playtime.
This is her game now, but the reward remains mine.
Come to me, pretty girl.
A few minutes of silence follow, but she cracks first. Her hips sway seductively as she walks across the room to stand below me, as if on trial. She’s filthy, wet—dried blood decorates her body.
My feral little witch is perfection, but tonight I’m her judge and jury. Disciplinarian, too.
“I wasn’t done, Theo.”
“Is that so?” It’s hard, but I bite back my smirk. “I thought you were.”
Pretty girl bristles, and her eyes, which had softened into their natural green shade, flash red. She’s adorable when mad. “Your orgasm is mine. Each drop of come belongs to me.”
“Earn it.”
“W-what?” Confused. Insulted. Fuck, I love her.
“You heard me, pretty girl.” My cock bobs, a mix of spit and pearl-like beads of fluid leaving a mark on my abdomen. I don’t touch myself, but her gaze feels like a caress. “The only way you’ll get my come tonight is to earn it.”
“Theo, I—”
“Not another word, love. Mount your king.”
Gabriella sees this for what it is, walks up the two steps, and turns, giving me her back. She doesn’t say anything. Instead, she bends forward and spreads her cheeks so I have the perfect view of her holes. They clench, and I slap her left asscheek, then the right one in approval.
With my other hand, I stroke myself slowly.
Let her tease, but my patience can only run for so long.
“Enough, Gabriella.” Gripping my cock tight, I watch her sway her hips seductively as she takes her place between my parted thighs.
She moves her ass, bouncing lightly to make the flesh jiggle before slipping a hand between her thighs and dipping a few fingers inside.
In and out, she pumps them a few times, her slick juices running down her hand and onto the floor below, but it’s the kittenish moan that has me grabbing those hips and lifting her above my cock. “Ride. Me.”
Immediately, her fingers slip out as she moves to grip my arms. “I decide how I’ll make you come. I’m in charge—”
Her words become a piercing cry as I slam her down on my cock.
It both angers and thrills her, and I’m taught a valuable lesson when she reaches down between us and squeezes my balls.
With her back to my front in reverse cowgirl, I’m giving her the luxury of setting the pace, and after a few sharp tugs that send a wave of pleasurable pain through me, my pretty girl rides me fast and hard.
There’s no testing the depth or building up slowly; Gabriella fucks me like the queen she is.
My girl leans forward and bounces, her hands using my knees as leverage, but it’s not enough. We both know what she needs, but I indulge her nonetheless. Let her set the pace and chase the orgasm that’s just out of reach, until her frustrated cries rend the throne room.
“Please, Theo. I can’t…” she trails off, not stopping her gyrations, but the frustration mounts.
I nip her back with my fangs. “What do you need? Tell me.”
“You.” This time, it’s a sob as I push the hand she’s tried to slip between her thighs away. “Please fuck me.”
“And the next time you want to kill someone, you won’t sneak them onto our lands?”
“No.” She sags against me, lying back, which changes the angle. Makes her tighter. “I’ll be upfront and ask for help.”
“We both know you could’ve killed them yourself. Why bring them here?”
At my question, she stops moving. Just stills while I’m buried deep, and she exhales roughly. “Because I wanted to be fucked by the monster you keep hidden.”
“Now you’ve earned my come.” No sooner has the last word passed my lips than my fangs are embedded deep into her neck.
Sweet, rich blood fills my senses while my fingers are on her clit, rubbing tight circles on the bundle of nerves, and my hips piston from below.
I drink from her, thrusting deep and fast while my good little witch takes the abuse.
And yet, she doesn’t try to pull away. Instead, she angles her head and whimpers more.
Moreover, I oblige. I pound her cunt without mercy, taking deep pulls from her veins until her eyes roll back and the first rush of her orgasm coats my cock. Her thighs tremble, her walls pulsing—I retract my fangs and grip her neck, turning her face toward mine.
I find a blissed-out vampire witch, her expression soft yet still needy. “Kiss me, My king.”
My mouth lowers to hers, slow and sweet, a complete contrast to the way I’m taking her pussy.
Thrusting hard and fast, I’m hitting the spot that makes her weak while she cries into my mouth.
Each pulse, each rush of wetness making a mess of us pulls me closer to the edge, but it’s her low I love you that milks the come from me.
Rope after rope of spend fills her pussy to the brim and then overflows, staining the seat below us. Not that I give a single fuck. Every inch of the grand room smells like us, and my chest swells with pride at the satisfied grin on my pretty girl’s lips.
Now she’s happy.
“Thank you.”
“And I love you.” With her nestled against me, I lazily continue to pump into my wife. Time ceases to exist outside these walls; I’m held captive by the feel of occasional tremors running through her. She rests while I revel in her softness…
Love. Happiness. Excitement.
The last one is a surprise, but the bond tugs with the command for another round. Her eyes flash open, and I know that whatever it is, I won’t say no.
“This time, I want you to bend me over in an alley like a whore and…”