Chapter 30 #3
“I really do,” I admit, my eyes rolling back.
“Fuck, your little ass is so tight,” he groans as he pushes in another inch.
I clench up again, then will my muscles to relax, taking him a little deeper. Inch by torturous inch, he eases in until his hips are flush with my ass.
“How does that feel?” he asks, stroking a palm over the curve of my hip.
“So… full…” I choke.
He pulls out halfway, then slowly pushes back in. “Good?”
“So good…”
I’m pretty sure my brain has left my body. Everything shrinks down to the feeling of his body pressed against mine, the overwhelming fullness, the sensation of him moving inside me.
He starts pumping, building up a rhythm. It starts slow and careful, but the more I adjust, the more it turns savage. Before long, he’s pounding into me, his cock filling my ass with every thrust. His other hand slips between my legs and rubs my clit, winding me up to another orgasm.
I feel his fangs scrape against the side of my neck, needy anticipation rioting through me. He keeps fucking my ass, working my clit, and this time, when I come, he bites down on my neck at the same time, his fangs sinking in deep.
The combination of pain and pleasure and venom sends me straight to the fucking moon. I scream, bucking against him while he drinks, his mouth sealed tight over my throat.
It’s heaven. It’s hell. It’s too fucking much. My vision goes dark around the edges, my body shaking uncontrollably as my climax stretches on and on and on, seemingly endless.
He retracts his fangs from my throat, his tongue dragging over my skin to seal the wounds. I melt into the mattress, my back molding against his chest as his hips pulse in shallow thrusts, his cock still buried deep in my ass.
“My turn?” I pant, lifting my head weakly to gaze back at him.
His pupils are blown wide, lips tinged red. “Are you sure?” he asks, voice gravelly.
I huff in annoyance. “Eli, I swear to god, if you ask me that again I’m gonna–”
Any remaining protest dies on my lips as he slams in deep, stealing my breath. My mouth hinges open, eyes rolling back.
I hear a soft pop as he extends his fangs again, using them to pierce his wrist before bringing it down in front of my lips.
“Drink,” he orders.
I stare at the dark blood beading up on his skin, then seal my lips over it, sucking at the wound until it coats my tongue. It’s… fucking weird, honestly. Warm and thick, the taste and consistency completely foreign. When I swallow it, I feel it burn all the way down.
I’m not sure what I expect when I drink his blood– the heavens opening, fireworks raining down, some climactic, grand event where the universe announces we’re officially bonded…
It’s not anything like that, though.
It’s a slow build, a gradual sense of power thrumming through me. I swear it’s almost like I can feel that glowing blood pulsing in my veins, every nerve lighting up at once as a surge of energy takes hold.
By the time he pulls his wrist away from my mouth, the punctures from his fangs have already reduced to tiny pinpricks, his skin knitting itself back together right before my eyes.
I marvel at it, then his hand wraps around my throat and he starts fucking me even harder, that pulsing energy in me building and building until it explodes.
The next thing I know, I’m coming again, so hard I see stars.
He follows me right over the edge of bliss, filling my ass with his release as a low groan rattles from his chest. He keeps thrusting until he’s emptied, then gently pulls out and collapses next to me on the bed, slinging an arm around my waist and dragging me on top of him.
We’re both panting, trembling with aftershocks as he cradles me against his chest, holding me close like I’m something precious.
“You did so well,” he praises, sweeping loose strands of hair off my sticky forehead with his fingertips, then pressing a kiss to the crown of my head.
I nuzzle into him, too exhausted to speak, and just let him hold me until the world stops spinning. There’s blood on my lips, sweat cooling on my skin, and a strange new power thrumming through my veins.
I’ve never felt more alive.
He strokes my hair until my breathing slows, then I lift my head to gaze up at him. For the first time, I see Elliott Faulkner completely undone.
His mouth is smeared red, eyes so dark they’re almost black, hair deliciously disheveled. He looks… wild. Haunted. Beautiful. He stares back at me like he can’t believe I’m alive; that I even exist. It’s the way every woman dreams of being looked at by a man, and to have that aimed at me…
An ache blooms beneath my ribs, my throat tightening.
If this is what being possessed feels like, maybe I don’t mind being a little less free.
Elliott reaches up, cups my face in his hand, and just holds it there. Then he tucks me under the blankets and wraps himself around me, like a shield against the rest of the world.
My last thought before I drift off is that maybe this is what my version of happy looks like. Messy, violent, a little fucked up, but real.
And finally, finally, mine.