Page 222 of Barbi and the Villain

“You like that,” he murmurs, the vibrations echoing into my skin. “You like my mouth on you, don’t you, Barbs?”

“Yes,” I nod. “Please…”

I don’t know what I’m asking him to do. There’s only this overwhelming need to feel him closer; to have him touch me everywhere.

He smiles, nuzzling his face against my stomach. The sharp tips of his fangs graze against my skin, and a spark of electricity erupts within me. His big hands cup my breasts, pleasuring me gently while he teases me with the promise of pain.

A moan slips past my lips when his fangs penetrate my skin. Blood flows into his mouth, splattering over my stomach. The same spot on his stomach rips apart, gushing more blood, staining both of our bodies in a combination of our essences.

He licks a fiery path from under my breasts to my hip bone, where he nibbles on my flesh. It’s slow and playful at first before he lodges his fangs into my skin.

I cry out.

He drags his fangs lower, creating a gash in my flesh that gushes out blood.

The pain is intense. But so is the pleasure of his touch and the wetness of his mouth as he flicks his tongue over the wound.

It’s hot. It’s primal, animalistic and hot.

His own flesh rips apart, mirroring my own wounds, and more blood flows between our bodies, lubricating our movements and staining the entire bed red.

His tongue laps greedily at my blood, not letting any drop go to waste.

And as he moves lower, tension knots in my belly as I await for him to touch me where I need him the most–where my blood and arousal meet and await for him to feast.

My light pink panties are drenched and dripping red. His nostrils flare as he lays his nose against my mound, sniffing me.

“So damn sweet.” He groans, squeezing his eyes shut. “Your sweet cunt is weeping for me, isn’t that right, Barbs?”

I nod eagerly.

“This is mine,” he murmurs. “This sweet spot between your legs that no one’s ever touched before–that only I know what it tastes like.”

“Yes, only yours. Now please…”

I can barely form any coherent thoughts as he dips one finger between my legs, following the contour of my sex through my soaked panties. There’s only a scrap of fabric separating us, and I wiggle against him as I urge him to remove that last barrier and touch me.

“Nyk… I need…”

“I know what you need.” He winks at me.

The tip of his finger stops over my clit, and he gives it a soft flick that has me digging my heels in the mattress.

But Nykander doesn’t play fair.

His mouth hovers over my aching sex as he teases me with the promise of sweet fulfillment. But suddenly, he stops. He raises his head just enough to give me a bloody smirk before he flips me on my belly.

A startled cry escapes me.

“Do you know,” he starts as he lays the flat of his tongue over my ass cheek, “I have been watching you shake this ass in front of me for months and I have been imagining all the ways I would take you–all the ways I would claim this tight body of yours.”

My breath hitches.

“Hard. Fast. Rough…” He pauses. “But also slow and gentle, taking my time with you until you beg me for more. Until you beg me to take you like the animal that I am.”

He drags his fangs over my ass, gripping my flesh tightly before he bites it.

“Nyk,” I moan aloud.

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