Page 99 of The Blood we Crave: Part Two

Struggling to keep my eyes open, I heave out a breath as I finish the letter, dropping the knife onto the bed, the scrawledSforever engraved into his chest. It’ll never leave. It’s with him forever. Surges of red pour onto me as he continues working me over.

I cry at the intensity, pleasure racking through me. Just as that familiar feeling builds in the pit of my stomach, Thatcher stops, pulling his fingers out of me.

He glances down at the bleeding letter, dragging a finger through the steady stream of blood before bringing it to my mouth.

“Taste how good your brand feels,” he orders, pressing against the seam of my lips. I take his finger into my mouth, swirling my tongue around and cleaning it off, letting the metallic flavor invade my senses.

When I’m finished, he dips his head into the slot of my neck and shoulder, drinking down every noise I let out, a starved man receiving his first meal in decades. His tongue licks a long stripe down my throat before his teeth nip into my skin.

“I want you,” I breathe, my hands sinking into his hair, pushing my hips up to drive to my point. “Please.”

“You beg so sweetly,” he murmurs against my skin, taking his time to pull back from me.

I lift onto my elbows, my hair falling in front of my face. I blow a few pieces out of my eyes, staring as Thatcher kicks his boxers off before kneeling in front of me. Streaks of red fall through the grooves of his abs, white hair falling forward, muscles taut and flexing.

A fallen god, a marble statue. Devastatingly gorgeous.

Even his cock is pretty, two large veins on each side leading to the leaking tip, thick and hard. My inner walls clench, aching to feel it.

I inhale sharply as he wraps a hand around the base of his shaft, tugging from root to tip until a pearl of precome drops from the head and lands on my exposed pussy.

He guides himself to my entrance, pressing into my tight hole before pulling back. He teases me like this for what feels like hours, sinking into me just a few inches before withdrawing completely.

“Look at your needy cunt weeping for me, darling phantom.”

“Thatcher, please,” I beg, my stomach wound so tightly, aching to feel that familiar fullness he provides.

Taking pity on me, he sheaths his entire length within my tight channel. My back arches off the bed, a tingling sensation washing over me as he buries himself to the hilt.

“I love the way you look taking my cock, pet,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “I could live inside this tight pussy.”

“Then do it.” I hum in the back of my throat.

“Don’t fucking tempt me.” He finishes his sentence with a punishing thrust. “You think I won’t? That I won’t keep you locked in this room for days? Feed you only my cock? Make you drink down my come?”

Thatcher brings a single hand up to my throat, greedily giving it a soft squeeze as he bends at the waist to bite on my lower lip, sucking it into his mouth.

My pussy makes wet, smacking noises as he pulls out and slams back forward. Heaving his hips, rocking into me in a way that makes my eyes roll into the back of my head.

Everything is hot and achy as he fucks me. My hips meet him for each plunge, feeling him all the way in my stomach as he pumps into me like it’s the only thing he was meant to do.

I rake my nails down his back, urging him to fuck me faster.

Ecstasy shoots through me when the tip of his dick brushes my G-spot. My toes clench as I release a guttural moan loud enough to shake the windows.

“That’s the spot, isn’t it, pretty girl?” he grunts, his breath shaky, “Tell me how good I’m making this cunt feel.”

I nod my head erratically, gasping out the words “So good, so fucking good, angel.”

I cry out as he goes faster, broad and muscular thighs providing enough means to continue like this for who knows how long. He pumps up into me so hard all I can hear is our skin slapping against each other as one of his hands palms my ass, jerking me into his hips.

I can feel my orgasm approaching. The coil too tightly wound in my stomach won’t survive much longer.

“I can feel your pussy begging my cock to come,” Thatcher groans. “This tight, pathetic cunt crying for my hot seed. You want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

I nod my head, or maybe I don’t. I can’t tell because I’m so lost in pleasure I can’t focus on anything other than my body jostling as he pounds into me. My walls tighten around him, brows furrowed and heartbeat skyrocketing at the intimacy, the passion that crackles between us.

“Thatcher!” I scream into the humid air, my fingers digging into his traps. An overwhelming heat blasts into my body like a wildfire through dry grass. A broken shriek releases from my chest as my toes curl.

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