Page 69 of The Blood we Crave: Part Two

She lifts her hand up, offering it up to my mouth. Desire stiffens in my gut, my cock pulsing as I bring my mouth to her palm. Drinking down her blood, I taste the metallic liquid that fills my mouth before it slides down my throat.

It spills down my chin, warm as it drips onto my chest.

My thumb continues to move in circles, eliciting a loud whimper from the back of Lyra’s throat. Her pussy leaks onto my hand, making it much easier to add another finger, forcing her walls to stretch around me.

I swirl my tongue along the grooves in her palm before pulling my mouth away. Her eyes widen, and she pushes the knife back into my pocket just before she presses her lips to mine. Her nails dig into the tops of my shoulders, and I moan into her mouth.

We devour each other in a messy, chaotic way that is anything but soft. It’s all-consuming, uncaring of technique, just desperate attempts to touch and kiss every single inch of open skin.

The speed of my hand increases, reaching that hidden spot that sends her over the edge. It only takes a few more sloppy thrusts before she’s creaming all over my fingers, narrowing around me, and moaning so loud I feel the vibrations on my tongue.

I pull away from her, staring down at her red lips, my forehead dropping to rest against hers. “Good fucking girl.”

She pants, lungs heaving as her body trembles with the aftershock of her orgasm. I prefer her messy like this, with lust infused in her features, panting and wanton, desperate for the release only I can give her.

Lyra’s hand moves, the tip of her finger drawing across my skin. When I glance down, I find her painting hearts with the blood that drips from her veins.

Tiny bloody hearts.

They connect and leak down my chest, drying in messy strokes.

She’s covering me in them. Marking my skin with the proof of her obsession.

And I let her because I’m tipsy.

Blood drunk on a girl intent on loving me until it kills her.

Until the grave. That’s what we are, have always been. The kind of connection that began in death and would last far beyond it.

Such a very grim, morbid declaration of love.

So very Lyra.

“A part of me will always be inside you,” she insists, pressing a kiss to my skin right in the center of my sternum.

My mind screams,You’ve been inside me far before this moment, darling.

But my mouth stays shut, closed and denying access to those thoughts being spoken out loud.

Instead, I choose to kiss her again because I don’t know how to explain what’s happening inside of me right now. We become a lustful dance of clumsy kisses as I walk her backwards to one of the tables. Our bodies collide with the edge, knocking over bottles and pens.

I remove my mouth from hers, spinning her around so that I can force her onto the flat surface, facedown, cheek pushed against a slew of pictures of me. The dress she chose tonight is striking, hugs her in all the places it should, and is flattering from every angle, so it’s unfortunate that I have to ruin it.

My greedy fingers grabs at the hem of the neckline, ripping the material apart until I hear the satisfying clicking of buttons pouring across the floor. I expose the miles of smooth, pale skin across her back.

“I liked that one,” she mutters, glancing at me over her shoulder.

I’m quick to drop a kiss to the center of her spine, looking up at her with a hooded gaze. “I’ll buy you a million more.”

Whatever she wants, she will have it.

I’d give her the world if she asked me for it.

Together, we tug and jerk at the dress until it’s discarded across the room, flung haphazardly behind me. I’m left to appreciate the sight of her bent over the table, miles of milky skin, soft muscles, flaws, and perfections all on display.

Just her in a pair of panties, waiting for me to take her any way I want.

I run a finger down the length of her spine, grinning at the chill bumps that I leave behind. The sound of my belt coming undone makes her breath hitch, and I watch as she squirms with excitement. Her ass backs up, wiggling against the front of my slacks, rubbing up and down along my length, which is pleading for me to fuck her.

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