Page 78 of The Blood we Crave: Part Two

Thatcher’s hot, wet mouth sucks gently on the bud while I roll my hips into his. He takes his time on each breast, massaging them with the tips of his fingers and biting down on the sensitive flesh before licking away the sting of pain.

I want to keep him far away from his father, protect him from the hurt, away from the harrowing influence Henry still has over him. I crave it, even if it is unrealistic, and I let that need fuel my lust.

My blood burns, simmering in my lower stomach. I let my fingers sink into the water, jerking the band of his boxers down until I can wrap my hand around his throbbing cock.

He groans into my skin, squeezing me tighter. I bite down on the hickeys already present, swirling my tongue as my thumb rubs across the tip of his sensitive head.

Together, we shove his boxers down enough to expose him fully, my body shifting to hover just above his waist.

“Ride me,” Thatcher demands. “Let me feel you take every inch of me inside that obsessed pussy.”

His words crack against my skin like a whip, making the dull ache in my core intensify to an almost painful point. Reaching beneath me, I curl my hand around the base of his shaft, stroking him a few times before dragging the head of his cock through my slippery folds.

I shiver when he catches against my entrance, the slow teasing killing both of us. Finally putting us both out of our misery, I let my weight fall, sinking onto his length and taking him all the way to the hilt in one go.

The undeniable fullness of him makes me whimper. I can feel him everywhere, all the way to my toes. My stomach tightens at the completeness. I savor the feeling of this for just a few moments longer, clenching tight around him before setting a slow pace.

Thatcher’s fingers grip my hips, guiding me up and down his shaft. The water laps over the tub’s edge, spilling onto the floor, swaying around us as he thrusts upward into my body.

“So fucking sweet,” he groans, tilting his head back and exposing the threads of veins cording his neck. “So tight.”

I lean into him, my hands resting on his shoulders to keep my balance. When he looks back at me, our faces touch, lips just inches apart but not moving to kiss one another. I rock my hips, working his cock in and out of me as we breathe each other in, exchanging moans and gasps.

“Such a pretty little thing. Such a good girl for me, darling.”

This feels different from the other times.

With Thatcher, it’s urgent, desperate, brutal, us chasing the high that comes from each other’s bodies, but this? It feels sorta bittersweet. We cling to one another, afraid of losing the warmth. We’re quiet groans and pounding hearts.

“You feel so fucking good,” I murmur, lacing my fingers into his hair. “I never want to stop.”

I ride him quicker, and he meets my thrusts from beneath, rutting into me. My breasts bounce in tandem with my riding. His lips ghost across my cheek, my eyelashes fluttering against his forehead.

“Then don’t.”

Biting down on my lower lip, my thighs burning, I continue our pace until my orgasm creeps up on me like a secret. It’s not an explosion like last time—no, this is a soft wave that crests over me, sending me into bliss just as hard.

I feel it everywhere, the coil in my stomach snapping as my inner walls clamp down on him. I whimper against his skin, eyes shut tight as my body stiffens in pleasure. Thatcher presses my hips down harder, pumping into me with sloppy thrusts.

His thighs smack against my ass as he fucks me through my climax, coaxing wave after wave of pleasure, drowning me in warmth. My clit rubs against his toned stomach as he plunges into me, the overstimulation almost too much to handle.

“Come for me again,” he groans, breathless.

I circle my arms around his neck, burying my face into the crook of his neck as I shake my head.

“I don’t think I can,” I whisper, the buzzing against my clit intensifying.

He wraps an arm around my waist, forcing me to stay put as he heaves into me. The slapping of wet skin echoes in the bathroom, his heart beating against my own as my nails dig into his back.

“Be a good girl, baby. Give me one more,” he coos, hitting that spot deep inside of me. “I wanna feel your pretty cunt tighten around me. Milk my come from me.”

I let out a choked sob of bliss into his shoulder as he fucks me harder, stimulating my clit in the process. It’s all so much, too much, that I have no choice but to fall over the edge again.

“That’s it,” he bites into my shoulder. “You feel my cock begging your pussy to come? You’re so very sweet for me, pet. Such a pretty girl coming all over me.”

It’s an electric current that buzzes through me, my pussy tensing and releasing several times as I come again. Thatcher practically growls in my ear, my name an exasperated sigh on his lips, thrusting into me one more time before spilling into me. I’ve never been more thankful for birth control in my life.

I lean back so that I can look at him, so focused on the aftershock of my orgasm that what I see almost takes my breath away. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his tempting lips open slightly as he lets himself get lost in pleasure. He is none of the things the world paints him as in this moment. He isn’t a monster or a killer—he looks angelic, trapped in euphoria.

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