Page 160 of The Princess In A 'Prince' Disguise

Taking her neck, he positioned her as he wanted, piercing her skin a bit to infuse his elixir into her neck, dulling the pain of penetration. Then, his fangs fully sank home.

Aekeira's cry was a startled gasp, then a shuddering moan of pleasure.

Vladya groaned, the sound raw and uncontrolled. His eyes closed as her blood sang to him. Sweetness bloomed on histongue, richer than any wine. The tang of iron, laced with a sweetness like sun-warmed honey, and a stark, elemental purity like a winter sunrise.

She was intoxicating. A heavenly delight.

He drew from her, feeling the throb of her pulse against his lips. Her body writhed in his grip.

"Oh, Lights!" she cried, fingers clenching into his shoulders.

Vladya was lost in a dangerous paradise. It had been too long – too long—since he had experienced such bliss. He drank deeper, his own control hanging by the thinnest thread. Her pulse thrummed beneath his touch, mirroring the frantic beat of his own heart.

"Please..." her cries a broken plea. "Oh, please, please, please."

The haze of pleasure was overwhelming. His dick as hard as granite, pulsed in his breeches, the bulge visible through his clothes.

Just as her nakedness had enticed him, her blood enthralled him. It held him captive, a slave to his desires. He drank greedily. Helplessly.

"I need, I need..." Sobs of pleasure racked her throat.

Had she never experienced pleasure before? Did she not know what her body needed? Did she not realize she was on the verge of climax?

But the innocence in her helpless movements, the clumsiness in her jerky motions, made it clear she didn't. The realization shook him to his core.

He extended his thigh, parting her legs, and pressed it against her aching core.

She whimpered, grinding against him. Her actions driven purely by instinct—uncoordinated yet utterly addictive. “Oh…Ooh…”

A plaintive whine escaped her throat as she climaxed, grinding furiously. The heat of her release soaked his thigh, her scent a heady musk driving him to the brink of madness.

Then she sagged against him and Vladya held her tenderly. Only soft mewls broke the stillness as he continued to drink.

But he really had to stop now, or he would drain her.

With sheer willpower he didn't know he possessed, he forced himself to stop. Retracting his fangs, he sealed the ragged puncture marks with a swipe of his tongue.

She lay limp in his arms, breathing raggedly. Utterly at his mercy. The sight stirred something within him.

His eyes observed her, and a growl emerged from deep within him. She was blood drunk.

Eyes drooped, lips slackened, unintelligible words tumbled from her mouth. Her head rolled from side to side, lost in a euphoric haze.

A feeder getting blood-drunk wasn't rare, but it didn't happen all the time. It had been so long since someone had become intoxicated from his feeding.

A knock shattered the languid silence. Yaz's head peeked through the opening. "My Lord, apologies, but I bear urgent news. Maids whisper of assassins in Blackstone, hunting the human prince. He's rumored to be fleeing towards the southern wing."

Vladya's head snapped up, the lingering haze of satisfied feeding shattered. He tightened his grip on Aekeira, preventing her from slumping, while his gaze whipped around the room. "Emeriel?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

Aekeira released a soft giggle, her unfocused eyes wandering above with the hazy focus of confusion and utter happiness.

"High as a kite," Vladya murmured.

Then, he scooped her up, crossed the room and deposited her on the couch to sleep it off. Slipping into his robe, he followed Yaz out. A strange lightness filled him.

His wounds ached less, and he could feel the beginning of the healing process.

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