Page 130 of A Vow of Blood and Tears

“Yes,” he rumbled. “But before I submit to your whims, I want to taste you.”

He did toss me in the bed then, flipping over and throwing me into the mess of sheets and blankets. Those clawed hands caught my ankles, holding my legs apart.

His throat moved as he swallowed, eyes on my core, and his tongue flicked out against my ankle, down my calf, until he brushed a Bane-kiss, all fangs and snout, against my inner knee.

A frisson of heat spiraled through me as he lapped a trail down my thigh. I dug my nails into the blanket beneath me, anticipating the sensation of his forked tongue…

He parted me, and those independent, twinned tips stroked my core, delicate at first—a slick wet touch, exploratory.

Then they moved apart, capturing my sensitive, tingling clit between them where his tongue split.

It squeezed, the fork capturing me, the tips delving downward to plunge inside me and stroke. I gripped the bed so hard I thought my nails might break, trying not to buck up against the fangs poised over me.

I’d never wanted the ability to scream aloud like I did now. All I could do to show the frenzy inside me was pant for breath,letting my body speak for me louder than words. I couldn’t totally lose myself to abandon—not with the sharpness of his mouth and hands—but I couldn’t hold back, either.

Bane kept his hands on me, preventing my thrusting hips from driving too close to his fangs. He made growling sounds of satisfaction, his eyes on me as the tips of his tongue plunged in mercilessly, the bifurcation squeezing in a slow, rhythmic beat.

My core was soaked, feeling swollen and needy, and I didn’t want to shatter into orgasm before I’d gotten my wish: to feel him, all of him, and have him release inside me.

Bane, I signed with one hand. Crescents from my own nails stood out red against my palm.Let me.

I couldn’t think of the words. There was nothing but the rising tide of heat in my core, the endless teasing of my clit that was driving me rapidly to the edge.

But he slowed. The tips of his tongue withdrew, and he dragged the prongs over me in a long, smooth motion. My legs shook, muscles turning to jelly.

“There is no question that you’re delicious,” he said, his voice rougher than usual by far.

I took a deep breath, willing myself to hold on for a little longer. I’d been curious about him for so long that having him at my whim now was driving me mad with lust.

Lay down, I told him, patting the bed. I straddled him when he obeyed, stretching out the full length of his solid body.

He was large, no doubt about it. But I was willing to try.

I ran my hands over his chest, savoring the smooth heat of his skin, the velvet texture. My fingertips trailed over the exaggerated ridges of his stomach, moving lower—the striations grew closer together as I descended the V of muscle.

In the moonlight, his eyes flashed warily, less amber and more the color of a pale autumn moon. “Go slow, Cirri. Don’t hurt yourself.”

I wrapped my hand around his cock, running my fingertips over the ridges. They were cartilage like his armored shoulders and sides, the same toughness, with only a hint of give.

The head, with its flared crown… it gave me pause. The barbs weren’t sharp by any means, blunted at the tips, but once he was inside me, he would be locked in place.

I tipped forward, angling myself until the smooth head nudged against my center. Bane sucked in a breath, and it was his turn to dig his fingers into the blankets, to hold himself as a trembling statue beneath me.

I was wet, heated and ready, but he was still massive. There was no comparison to the humans I’d experienced. My hips sank down, the pressure increasing as the crown of barbs fought to push past my entrance, a hint of pain lurking.

For a moment, fear and disappointment lurched inside me. He was right, it was too much; there was nothing to be gained here but hurt. We’d never be able to experience this.

But my wetness coated him, and with a final jolt of pressure he pushed inside me. Bane grunted again, every muscle twitching with the urge to hold himself back.

I paused, a quiver running through my legs. There was no way to rise, no way to pull free; the pressure of those barbs, curled against my inner walls, seemed to fill me entirely.

No way back, so I went forward. Lowered myself another inch, the ridges of his cock somehow smooth enough to slide over, textured enough that I felt every inch with extreme clarity.

Gods, I’d never felt anything like it. He might not be able to pull free, but the texture inflamed me, stoking the neediness higher. I kept going, lowering inch by inch, hyper-aware of each one.

When I reached what I thought was my limit, I rose up again—the ribbed cock testing my willpower to the limit, his barbed crown making me shiver as it lightly grazed my channel.It stopped him from pulling out, the barbs feeling like they’d expanded, locking him in place.

His eyes flashed with nightshine, his hips convulsing upwards once. “Gods, fuck me.”

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