Chapter Twenty-Four #2
He fisted his hand in her hair, pulling her head until her spine arched, using it as a handle as he took her with a strength that would have left her broken had she been merely human.
Her legs quivered and wouldn’t have supported her alone, but the force of his thrusts kept her rising to her toes.
She braced herself on the wall, her breath coming in short, high gasps, and lost herself in the moment.
Her dress strained tight over her body, then tore as he ripped it away, falling from her to crumple at their feet, leaving her naked before him.
His grip in her hair only tightened as he took her over and over, while his other hand palmed her breast, squeezing and pulling, then tugging her nipple between finger and thumb.
“Oh God…” she moaned, giving in to him, bracing against the wall and pressing back her hips. He somehow managed to go deeper, stretching her with every thrust, a grunt of effort the only sound he made.
His touch fell from her breast to reach between her legs, spreading her wetness over her clit, and she cried out, driven to the peak of her pleasure.
“Yes,” he murmured into her ear, even as he thrust again. “Scream for me. Come for me.”
She came undone around his cock and fingers, his words the last trigger for her release. Her breath wouldn’t come, her body tightened, and she shuddered beneath him.
His lips caressed her neck. “I love the way you clench around me.” Then his fangs pierced her skin, and the sting of his bite melded with her orgasm.
Cally anticipated the rush of his serum, the moment the pleasure increased, driving her to heights she had never known before. But it didn’t come. Instead, she felt him draw her blood, his throat working against her neck, and there was only a sharp pain.
She let loose a shuddering exhale, the ache of his bite mingling with the ache inside her, pleasure subsiding as pain grew, and she whimpered once more, this time in discomfort. “Antoine… please…”
He didn’t heed her, feeding more, his cock remaining hard within. He moaned his enjoyment, one hand falling to her hip, the other closing around her throat, holding her for him. Again he swallowed her blood, and as he did, she felt his seed splash inside her.
She held still for him, enduring, focusing as she could on the surrender, the comfort, the fulfillment—all there, yet it hurt nonetheless.
Had he done that to show she was prey? Did it arouse him to hurt her?
It would’ve complemented the sweetness of it all if it had been any less, but it was growing too much.
“Stop… please…”
He pulled back, licking over her bite, his grip easing around her neck as he realized something was wrong. “Ma chérie?”
The pain subsided as quickly as it had come, and the tension ebbed away. She leaned back into him with a sigh of relief, able to again focus on him inside her, hard and fulfilling.
“I’m sorry, it was too much.”
“Too much?” The confusion in his voice struck discordantly. “What was too much?”
“The pain. I’m sorry, it hurt more than I wanted.”
His body tensed against her. “What pain?”
He doesn’t know.
The thought froze her words, and she struggled to find anything to say. Caught between regret for having mentioned it and for what he had lost, she delayed too long.
He slipped from her with a rush of wetness down her inner thigh, turning away as he adjusted his clothing. She slumped against the wall, legs too weak to fully support her, the emptiness inside sudden and aching.
“I’m sorry,” she said, watching him over her shoulder. “Your bite hurt more than it… did before. But I don’t mind,” she added quickly, “I will get used to it.”
He licked his fangs, his brow furrowed in confusion. “It is I that must apologize, ma chérie. I was not aware that I am… less than I was.”
“No,” she said, turning toward him. “No.” This time, firmer.
“You are as much as you always have been. My blood is yours, and only yours.” The pain didn’t matter.
“Taste me… like I taste you.” She dipped her fingers between her legs, raising them to her lips, and licked them as he watched, salty and slick.
Heat flashed in his gaze, then faded as his eyes lowered.
“I had not expected this,” he said in apology, then bent and swept her into his arms, carrying her to the bed like she was something precious. He whisked away the duvet and set her down gently, then lay it back over her. “Does it hurt still?”
“No, not at all.” She offered him a smile. “Only an ache, in all the right places.”
But he wasn’t mollified, his jaw clenched. “I will leave you to sleep.”
“Antoine, please.” She reached for him.
He hesitated. “Are you hungry? Do you want food?”
“No, I want sleep, but I want it with you. Stay with me? At least for a while?”
He was slow to agree, then his face softened. “Of course.”
“Without clothes, please.”
She watched as he stripped and climbed in beside her, his expression thoughtful. She pressed to his side, her palm laid over his heart, and kissed his shoulder. “I’m going to make your sheets sticky.”
“Do you want to shower?”
She hooked one leg over his, pulling herself to him, and closed her eyes. “In the morning.”