Chapter 26 #2
A gasp knotted in her throat. It wasn’t the first time she had heard her name on his tongue, but this time it sounded different. Desperate even.
“Could I be yours?” she asked, the bond straining between them like a tight band, ready to snap at any moment.
With a grip on her thigh, he drew her closer, holding her in a hard embrace, his thumb pressing hard against her swollen clit. “Do you know what that would mean?” he questioned, his tone serious.
“That you might eventually kill me because of the bond?” she uttered through a gasp, pleasure cascading through her core, and eyed his thick, pouty lips, wishing she could kiss them again.
“It means I would never let you go. It is not only the bloodlust of the bond that draws me to you,” he admitted, bringing her closer with each sweep of his torturous fingers. “It is your soul, your heart, your mind, and yes, your blood. It is all I can think about.”
She ran her fingers over his chiseled jawline, grazing the tips of his fangs protruding over his lips, struggling to focus as he wound her tighter until she was rocking her hips, chasing his prolonged, expert touches.
A shiver rippled the muscles in his back as just a dribble of liquid heat soaked through his underwear and against her leg, as she pressed her fingers against his fangs.
“Then bite me,” she said, losing herself in his caress, to the way he pushed his erection against her body in fervent strokes.
She had definitely lost her mind, but those thoughts kept coming. He was darkness in her light, tempting her to wander. She never thought she would want to go willingly.
“I won’t be able to stop,” he said, eyes trailing to her exposed breasts, nipples peaked and damp from his earlier administrations.
“It’s already too much being this close to you and hearing your blood rushing through your veins,” he paused and inhaled sharply through his nose, “your intoxicating scent perfuming the air and arousal running down my wrist, soaking the sheets.”
“I want you,” she said, swallowing hard. “I want all of you, even if it’s risky.”
He sat up abruptly, simultaneously slipping his fingers from her in one smooth movement, leaving an aching, empty void in their place.
No, he can’t stop now. She shivered, a wash of cold air slithered over her as she chased his body up, rocking against air, when his fingers came down in a slap against her clit.
“Don’t tempt your death like that,” he said, tone so deep the sound resonated, tickling her eardrums. “Or I will spank your ass until it’s all pretty and pink.”
She grabbed his sharp jawline between two fingers, challenge threading her stare, her words biting. “Then control yourself.”
While she wanted him to dominate her, she wasn’t going to allow him to hide behind the bond. He took so much pride in his restraint, so he could damn well control himself when it came to her blood.
A moan vibrated her teeth when he moved down, peppering kisses in a trail over her breasts, stomach, to between her legs.
She ran her fingers over taut muscles, feeling the dips and valleys of his toned back before he moved down, his fangs splitting as his jaw unhinged, revealing three sets of fangs.
He rolled his erection against the bed, his fangs nipping her silky folds, spearing his tongue inside. Pulling back for a second, he said, “Damn, I’m going to come just from the taste of you.”
Liquid fire ran through her veins, her stomach tightening with each lick.
“You like this?” he asked, humming against her.
“Yes.”
“What if I stopped playing so nice?”
God, she wished he would. When his fangs nicked her skin, she winced, but the pain quickly turned into pleasure.
“Oh!”
Turning his head, she moaned when three sets of fangs sunk into the crease of her thigh in a sharp, precise bite. His moans reverberated through her skin, his essence inside of her like a disease, consuming every part of her until she was feverish and couldn’t breathe.
What an exquisite, reckless, foolish, wonderful way to die.
Her fingers curled into the sheets, every biting sting of his fangs jolting a thrum of pleasure into the glistening area to his right.
Nathaniel’s hips rocking against the covers as he continued with a hot suction against her skin, the rush of blood leaving her swept tingles all over her body, raising goosebumps over her exposed breasts and limbs.
It was only when she pushed her fingers between her legs, desperate to finish, that he pulled away from the bite, stopping her with a tight grip around her wrist.
“Mine,” he grunted, blood leaking down the sides of his unhinged jaw.
There he was, her monster, with those dark veins around his features, his pupils vertical slits, and crimson spilling from those pointed canines.
Closing his eyes briefly, he let out a masculine hum from the back of his throat before burying his head between her legs, his tongue working the tightness from her clit before spearing inside her.
With a loud moan, she ground herself up against his mouth, screaming his name with a frantic thrust. “Nathaniel.”
Her walls clenched when he pulled back, placing one finger inside her instead while curling the tip of his tongue against her swollen bud, humming vibration into her folds.
Soft cries left her mouth as she lifted her hips, reaching down to grab a fistful of his hair, holding him in place, grinding against his fangs.
Slowly, he pushed a second finger inside, stretching her.
“Oh God, Nathaniel,” she choked out, and he moaned into her, fingers gripping her thigh hard enough to leave bruises.
Every swipe of his beautiful tongue lifted her higher, until she was feverish, holding back a scream behind closed lips until she remembered what he’d said.
He wanted to hear her.
Letting it out, she screamed as he closed his lips around her sensitive flesh, sucking gently, tipping her into oblivion. Her release shredded through her, from the tips of her toes, through her entire body. She clenched around his fingers, pulsing rhythmically.
“Oh, fuck, I’m going to—ahh,” he groaned against her wetness.
Broken, raspy grunts left his mouth as he held her in place, his hips shunting, spilling his release onto the sheets, soaking them with each primal moan against her, pulling the last pulses of climax from her body.
Easing his fingers out of her, he lifted his shuttered eyes to meet hers, pupils dilating back to their normal shape.
She tipped her head back, panting, watching as he swirled his tongue over his fingers, eyes closed.
“You were perfect,” he purred, his fangs retreating into his gums. “I’ve never finished just from doing that before.”
Rubbing her legs, he climbed on all fours, layering himself over her. His lips were glistening with her desire, and he pressed them to hers, kissing her softly before rolling onto his side.
“Are we still going to play in The Hunt tomorrow?” she asked, turning onto her side as the weight of what had just happened settled over her.
“Are you able to participate?”
“What do you mean?”
“How is your pain?”
She grazed her fingers over her joints. Ever since embracing magic, she’d barely felt but wisps of it. “Mostly gone.”
“Then why would we not?” he asked, raking fingers through messy, dark waves.
“Because, you’re going to catch me in seconds,” she said, pointing out his unfair advantage.
“What would be the fun in that?”
“So you’re going to hold back?” she asked, hope charging in her voice.
“Not at all,” he said in a low growl, bringing his mouth to the tip of her ear. “You’re going to have to find a way to stop me.”
“If I can’t?”
“Then you’ll lose, and I’ll have to sacrifice your tender heart.”
Her muscles stiffened, her chest heaving in a breathy gasp. “You told me you don’t want me to die. That you just want to chase me.”
“I want you to win, but if you do not I will hold you to our agreement.”
“Are you quite serious? After everything that has happened between us?”
“Did you think you were going to fuck your way out of this?” he asked, grazing his fingers over her hips, dropping lower until she stiffened. “I’m disappointed.”
“So am I,” she spat, tears welling in her eyes, fingers flexing. “I thought you cared about me.”
“I do.” He edged closer to her throbbing, messy folds, her hips begrudgingly rolling when he reached the pinnacle. “Find a way to win like your life depends on it.” After pressing a kiss to her throat, he whispered a breath to her earlobe and added, “because it does.”
“I should never have trusted you.”
“I gave you what you asked for. A way out,” he rebuked from the bed, lounging back against the pillows with his hands behind his head. “It’s astounding how much you underestimate yourself when you took out the most powerful witch of all time.”
“Using the energy I siphoned from hundreds of people she slaughtered,” Charlotte added. “I don’t have access to that kind of power now.”
“Even if you did, incapacitating me would be against the rules.”
“I can’t use magic?”
“Not on me.”
Tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, she held her breath before climbing out of bed. She opened her mouth to protest again but sighed instead. There was less than sixteen hours until The Hunt and she wasn’t going to get anywhere by arguing with him.
She recalled what Hartley and said. Witches used magic to hide themselves during The Hunt, so she would do the same.
Grabbing her nightgown, she walked out of his bedroom without so much as a backward glance at him. Prickles of magic shot through her fingers, spurred on by the mixture of hurt and anger swirling in her stomach. Walking barefoot, she hurried back to her bedroom, blinking back tears.
She had been so foolish to think the kiss, the soft words they’d exchanged, the things she felt and thought he did, would change anything.
Once she reached her room, she slammed the door shut and looked at the salt circle, broken in one place.
“Who let you out?” she asked, eyes widening. Slowly, she kneeled, running her fingers over the scattered salt. She could only be contained for as long as the circle remained intact.
With a deep breath, she ran her hand over the curve of her hip, now free of the necrotic mark binding her to the entity. Although now and then, she swore she could still feel the phantom decay moving under her skin like worms.
Shuddering, she turned away. As long as she wasn’t hexed, the demon posed no threat to her. They could not harm the living, and she was never stepping foot in the Realm of the Dead again.
The pressure of The Hunt and winning overrode her fear of the Smiling Woman. She had to focus on one thing at a time, but first, she needed to wash the embarrassment from her body. His scent clung to her skin, swarming butterflies when all she wanted to do was kill them.
As she walked into the bathing room, the decapitated head of Charles Eringhorn stared back at her from the washstand, a milky film over his unseeing eyes.
Her scream died in her throat. She’d forgotten Nathaniel’s gift was still in there, but she could swear she’d covered his remains with a sheet.
Although she had lapsed time when the hex had taken over and she’d climbed out onto the roof.
God only knew what she’d done in that period.