Chapter 8 #2
When I finally come down, he’s pressing soft kisses to my inner thighs. Waiting.
“Get up here,” I manage.
He crawls up my body. His cock drags against my leg, my hip, my stomach—leaving a wet trail that makes me clench with anticipation. When his face is above mine, I pull him down and kiss him, tasting myself on his tongue.
“I need you inside me,” I whisper against his mouth. “Now.”
He reaches between us. I feel the head of him notch against my entrance and we both freeze.
“Bree—” His voice is wrecked. Shaking. “I don’t know if I can control the feeding. Not with you. Not when it matters this much.”
I cup his face in my hands. Make him look at me.
“Then don’t control it. Let it happen. I trust you.”
His eyes close. A full-body shudder runs through him.
Then he pushes inside.
The stretch is almost too much.
He’s bigger than I’m used to—my body resists for a moment before something releases and he slides deeper. I gasp. He freezes.
“Okay?” His voice is tight. Controlled. “Am I hurting you?”
“No. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
He presses forward. Inch by inch. Filling me so completely I can’t breathe. When he’s finally seated all the way inside me, we both go still.
His forehead drops to mine. His whole body is trembling.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “You feel—I can’t—”
“Move.”
He pulls back slowly. Pushes in again. The drag of him inside me sends sparks shooting up my spine.
“More,” I demand. “Harder.”
He obeys.
His hips snap forward and I cry out—pleasure and fullness and the perfect edge of too much. He sets a rhythm that has me clawing at his back, wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper with every thrust.
The bond flares between us.
I feel it like a physical thing—silver light pulsing in my chest, reaching for him, wrapping around us both. And underneath it, something else. His hunger. Something older. Darker. The vampire in him waking up.
His mouth drags down my throat. Open. Hot. His breath comes in harsh pants against my pulse point.
“Bree—” His voice is wrecked. Desperate. “I need—I can feel it—I don’t want to hurt you—”
“You won’t.”
He shifts angles and hits something inside me that makes my vision white out. I dig my nails into his shoulders and he hisses, hips stuttering, mouth still pressed to my neck.
“Right there,” I manage. “There.”
He drives into that spot over and over. The pleasure builds—a wave cresting higher and higher—and I can feel him getting close too, his rhythm faltering, his fangs scraping my skin without breaking it.
“I can’t—” He’s shaking. Fighting himself. “Bree, I’m going to—I need to—”
“Then take it.”
I turn my head. Bare my throat completely.
“Take what you need.”
He shatters.
His fangs sink into my neck at the same moment his hips slam home one final time. The pain is bright, sharp, immediate—and then it transforms. Pleasure floods through me, liquid and hot, tangling with the orgasm that crashes through my body without warning.
I scream his name.
He drinks.
I feel everything—his hunger finally being fed, his relief, his overwhelming gratitude. The bond blazes between us, my Ether rises to meet his pull, feeding him willingly, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
He pulses inside me. I clench around him. The feeding amplifies every sensation until I can’t tell where the orgasm ends and the blood-bond begins.
His pulls are deep. Greedy. Starving.
Then they slow.
Gentle. Savoring. He licks across the wound, sealing it, and I feel the sting fade to warmth. His hips are still pressed flush against mine, both of us trembling with aftershocks.
He pulls back just enough to look at me.
Blood stains his lips. His eyes are wild—blown dark with pleasure and something like awe.
“Did I—” He swallows hard. “Are you—”
I pull him down and kiss him.
I taste copper. Salt. Us.
“I’m perfect,” I whisper against his mouth. “You’re perfect.”
A sound tears out of him. Something broken almost like he’s becoming something new.
We collapse together.
After, he buries his face in my neck.
His whole body is shaking. Not from exertion. Something deeper.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
I run my fingers through his hair, still damp with sweat now instead of shower water. “For what?”
“For choosing me.” His voice cracks. “I didn’t think—I didn’t think anyone would ever want me again. Not after being trapped for so long. Losing what I was.”
My chest aches.
I pull him closer. Feel him still softening inside me, neither of us ready to separate yet.
“You’re mine, Seth.” The words come out steady. Certain. “You always were. Even before you knew it.”
He makes a sound against my skin.
I press a kiss to his temple. Feel the bond humming between us—settled now, content, complete.
“We come first,” I tell him. “All of us. That’s how this works.”
He lifts his head. Looks at me with wet eyes and a trembling smile.
“Yeah.” He breathes. “I’m starting to get that.”
He pulls out gently—we both wince at the loss—and settles beside me, pulling me into his chest. I press my cheek against his heartbeat.
Outside, the sanctuary is figuring out how to exist in a world without Ethos.
But here, in this small room, with this man who came back from the Void for me—
Everything is exactly right.