I meant it as a joke, but he sounds serious. I don’t dwell on it, though, too busy gasping from pleasure. He slowly runs his fingers over my hot skin, his touch perfectly light and blissful. I know I’m covered in blood, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
But no, I can’t get carried away yet. He’s in a sharing mood, and I have so many questions.
“So how was Chors’ mark different from yours?” I ask.
Wisla said a mark like that can only be removed by the person who made it, so I wonder if the one Chors gave me was the same or different.
He snorts, his touch growing harder. I buck against him with a gasp.
“The difference is, I am more powerful than him, and you are only mine, whether you like it or not.”
“This again,” I breathe, my voice strained as I open my legs wider to give him more access. “I’m yours but you’re everyone’s?”
He growls, nipping at my ear when his finger plunges inside me. “Fuck, you’re tight. And no. I can be yours, too, if you want. Only yours.”
“Wait. Claws,” I gasp, very aware of his finger pushing deep.
“I’ll never hurt you in a way you won’t enjoy,” he rasps, kissing my cheek and temple. “Move for me. Show me what you like.”
I want to dwell on the “in a way you won’t enjoy” part, but when he thrusts his finger deeper in, angling his palm to press against my clit, I decide to let it go. I move, haltingly at first, because I don’t exactly know what I like.
But soon, I find a rhythm and friction that feels really good, and he hums, moving his hand to match the rocking of my hips. He presses my head closer to his chest, immobilizing me until only my hips can move. His shadows slide over my skin, soothing and seducing. He moves with me now, matching the rhythm I set, his rigid cock sliding against my thigh and ass.
I buck against him, pressing into his erection, and he lets out a low, ragged moan.
“Why do you need to claim me?” I gasp out, not really expecting it to work.
“I’ll tell you if you let me fuck you the next time we meet,” he answers at once, his voice husky with pleasure.
He thrusts his finger deeper, his palm grinding against my clit. I gasp, bucking my hips to get closer and get more friction.
“No more trades,” I grit out, riding the edge of orgasm. “I don’t trust you after last time.”
He flexes his hips with a low growl. “I see you’re learning. What if I gave you collateral?”
“Like what?”
But he doesn’t answer. His shadows wrap around my throat and pour in my mouth, cutting off my air, and he fucks me with his finger until the suffocation turns into bliss. I shatter into pieces, my body breaking a bit like it did when he brought me back to life, except there is no pain now. It’s all pleasure.
When tension leaves my limbs, his shadows unravel, and I can breathe again. Woland pulls his hand away and up to his face. I turn just in time to see him plunge that finger in his mouth.
I open my lips to protest, and he grins, swiping his tongue out to lick off the last traces of red.
“Blood is blood, darling, and yours is delicious.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
He laughs and waves his hand slowly. Something shimmers, and then, a spinning red shape appears above his open palm. My eyes widen. It’s the crystal bottle he used to contain his blood during Jacek’s wake. Woland plucks it from the air and offers it to me.
“Your collateral.”
I don’t take it from him, staring at it instead. The bottle is filled to the brim with crimson, a thin, silver chain affixed to the stopper. All I can think of is what Wiosna told me: that having someone’s blood makes it possible to control them.
“Why are you giving me this?” I ask, careful to sound neutral.
Does he know that I know how powerful and important blood is? I don’t understand his motives. Maybe he really wants me to trust him enough to take his trade. Or maybe it’s another trick.
“It’s yours anyway,” he says with a shrug. “You spilled it. But I’m giving it to you so you’re safe. I can’t watch over you for the next few days. This should be enough to help you get by. If it’s not, call my name, and I’ll send someone to help you.”