Page 77 of Isaia

It’s the blood that hits me first.

The sight of it on my cock as I draw out of her, the red trails painted over her creamy thighs.

I did that. I made her bleed because I was her first. The sight is intoxicating, a fierce blend of purity and sin. Her body, laid out bare beneath me, twitching subtly with each echoing aftershock of what I'd unleashed in her.

A carnal satisfaction thrums in the pit of my stomach, a claiming that is all at once animalistic and abhorrent, but it's mine. She’s mine in a way she’s never been to anyone, in a way she’ll never be to another. Just me. Always just me.

With her blood and my cum marking her, it’s done—I’ve claimed her, a red-hot brand of possession, and that’s not changing. Everly Beaumont belongs to me, and nothing in Hell or Earth will touch what I’ve made mine.

“Does it hurt?”

“A little.” Her cheeks flush with a deeper red.

“Describe it. The pain.”

“Isaia.” She tilts her head to the side, her gaze slipping away from mine, a hint of shyness softening her features.

“Hey.” I grip her chin, tilting her face until those eyes lock on mine. “First rule of being my woman. Don’t ever—ever—be shy. Not with me. Not with anyone.”

She licks her lips. “I’m your woman now?”

I reach between her thighs, easing two fingers through her creamed cunt. She flinches, a soft mewl escaping from her bitten-down lips.

“This—” I show her the blood on my fingers, mixed with cum, “—this says you are.”

“Oh, my God.” Her eyes flash with panic. Horrified. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think…Jesus.This is so embarrassing.”

She tries to move from under me, but I grab her arm and pull her back.

“Embarrassing? You think your blood coating my cock is…embarrassing?” I lean down, bringing my lips inches from hers. “Baby, it’s fucking beautiful. It’s proof that you’re mine.”

I nip at her tender, bitten lip, causing her to suck in a breath. I revel in her reactions. There's a fire inside her; I know it. We've only unearthed the embers, and I can’t wait to stoke it into an inferno.

She trembles against me as I drag my lips down the curve of her throat. “Now, describe it. The pain.”

“It’s… different now,” she says softly, almost unsure. “There’s this dull ache, but it’s not just pain. It’s this deep soreness, like my body’s reminding me exactly where you’ve been.”

My cock stirs, slowly hardening again, and I cup her breast, lapping my tongue around her pebbled nipple. She squirms beneath me, her body sensitive to the slightest touch. “Go on.”

Her breathing slows, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

“There’s this throbbing pressure between my legs like my body’s still trying to adjust to the way you stretched me.” Her hand moves tentatively to her lower stomach, pressing lightly. “Even here… I can feel it. It’s overwhelming.” Her cheeks flush with both embarrassment and desire. “And I don’t want it to stop.”

She doesn’t even realize it, but she’s giving herself to me with every syllable, every shaky breath. And fuck, it’s intoxicating. I can't help the growl that slips past my lips, a primitive sound that has her shivering.

Every word she speaks, the sensual cadence of her voice as she describes what she’s feeling, ignites a flame within me that borders on madness. It’s a raw, unrelenting heat clawing its way through my veins, demanding more. But beneath that fire, another feeling simmers—darker, deeper.

Ownership.

“I love knowing that it hurts.” I shift, grinding my hips just enough to smear more of her blood over my cock. “It needs to hurt for you to remember.”

Her gaze flickers up to meet mine, hesitant, but there’s a new kind of vulnerability in her eyes—one that begs to be understood. “Remember what?”

“That you’re mine.”

I kiss her, a slow brush of lips, a languid sweep of tongues, a sensual mix of breaths. My cock hardens, and the need to fuck her starts to pulse again—strong and demanding.

I lift as I reach between us. “I need to be inside you again.”

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