Page 65 of Priest

He should have been petrified, but he wasn’t. The sight of Priest’s entirely changed form would have sent even the strongest human running. But for him, all he saw was the primal, gorgeous, powerful being Priest was. He no longer thought of them as separate.

This was Priest. His beloved. His Demon.

His horns were shiny onyx, twisting up from his temples. Oliver stroked them, and Priest purred loudly before shoving his face in Oliver’s neck. His fangs touched him again, not biting yet, and Oliver wanted to scream. He needed it. His end of the bond was frayed and bleeding, aching to be complete.

Instead, Priest pulled back, and his forked tongue flicked over Oliver’s nipples. He dipped lower, to his belly button, over his hips, tasting every inch of his skin. The palm of Priest’s hand was rough as it took Oliver’s cock in a firm grip, and the tip of his tongue dipped into his slit, sending tendrils of ecstasy rushing through him.

“Please,” he begged in a shattered whisper.

Priest growled and pressed his free hand to Oliver’s throat, silencing him. The pressure was overwhelming in the best way. Oliver’s entire body went limp, and Priest let out another happypurr as he shoved Oliver’s leg up toward his chest and then began to devour him.

A forked tongue inside him was still one of the best sensations Oliver had ever experienced. He was floating on waves of pleasure, body trembling with need, unfulfilled and suddenly afraid Priest would spend the rest of their lives tormenting him with the promise of being filled, the promise of being allowed to come and never letting him have it.

Priest’s low, dangerous chuckle penetrated his thoughts, and Oliver blinked heavily, looking down to find Priest watching him. “Beg me.”

Oliver’s throat went tight. “I…”

“Beg me for what you want.”

“Your cock,” Oliver rasped. He tried to move, but Priest kept him pinned. “I want your cock inside me.”

“You want it?”

“I need it.” Oliver started to feel more frantic. He suddenly felt like prey, like breaking free and running.

Priest’s eyes darkened, and the grip on Oliver’s throat tightened. “Soon, little human. Soon, you’ll be free to run while I hunt you. Tonight, though, I’m going to claim you.”

Oliver’s cock throbbed, dripping a river of precome over Priest’s fist as he squeezed his cock. “Make me yours. I can’t live without you. I love you.”

Priest groaned, and then suddenly, his hands moved, bracing himself on either side of Oliver’s head. The tip of his cock pressed against Oliver’s hole—hot, thick, wet. He fucked his hips forward, and his cock caught on the rim of Oliver’s hole, hesitating before his body relaxed, and then Priest slipped inside him an inch.

The familiar feeling of Priest’s thrall began to wrap around him. Oliver knew he would never lose himself to it like theothers, but he could still feel it. Like a gentle buzz of Siren Water, it made him feel good. Soft. Eager.

“So eager,” Priest agreed, dragging the tip of his claw over Oliver’s lips. “Tell me you want this.”

Oliver knew what he meant. Not just sex. Not just to be together. This was it. The moment he gave himself to Priest, there was no turning back. But he wasn’t afraid. He turned his head, baring his neck, and he spread his legs as far as he could manage. Priest’s cock throbbed inside him, but he didn’t move.

“I want this,” Oliver said. “It’s you. Only you. And always will be.”

His eyes had just enough time to close before Priest thrust all the way inside and sank his fangs into Oliver’s neck. He felt them pierce his skin, felt the first rush of blood, felt the thin tongue lap against the flow. But there was no pain. There was a bright spark and a thousand threads coming together.

There was the beat of his own heart and the beat of Priest’s. There was ecstasy, eternal and overwhelming, rushing through his veins. Nothing had ever felt so good. Nothing ever would. He was moving, his body writhing on instinct, taking every push, every pull, as though he was made for it.

He felt Priest feeding, felt him drawing strength from Oliver and giving him strength in return. His Angel blood inside him sang, reaching for Priest’s Demon, sealing them together.

“My love, my love,” Priest gasped. He kissed Oliver, sharing the metal tang of blood. And then Priest was shoving Oliver’s face into his own neck. “Now you. Seal us. Make me yours.”

Oliver had no fangs, but he did as Priest said, biting down and feeling something give beneath his teeth. There was no blood, but there was something else. A white-hot rush of lust that was better than any orgasm he’d ever experienced.

For a moment, he thought he might die from it. He thought it might last forever, and somehow, it would be both heaven andhell. His vision went completely white and then black. He felt himself coming in hot, thick ropes, Priest fucking deep inside him, filling him.

And then he felt the moment the bond was in place. It settled in his chest like a second heartbeat, a gentle thrum of his beloved that would never be silent. He would never be alone. Not really.

He was complete.

Oliver didn’t realize he was crying until Priest’s rough tongue was swiping tears from his cheeks, and he blinked his eyes open, surprised to see Priest’s human face and black eyes looking down at him.

“Regrets?”

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