Page 50 of Bound in Blood

Chapter

Twenty-One

ALEXANDROS

Show her? She has no idea what she asks. If I show her the depth of my feelings for her right now, I will surely break her in two.

“Show you?” It is the feral beast inside me who snarls those words.

She nods, her cheeks flushed pink and her lip caught between her teeth. I sink to the floor, her legs still wrapped around me as I lay her on the cool marble. I should take more care with her, but I cannot. I cannot get far enough inside her to sate the need burning through me. Although, I will try.

I sink into her and roar out her name as bone-deep satisfaction unfurls in every part of my body. I drive deeper and harder with every thrust. Blood thundering in my veins, head spinning. Being driven mad with frantic, clawing need.

My fingers dig into the supple flesh of her ass and hips as I hold her still, ensuring she takes every millimeter of me over and over again.

It does not take any time at all to have her moaning my name whilst her tight pussy squeezes my cock in a death grip, as though she is as averse to letting me go as I am to beingreleased. I fuck her harder than I can ever recall fucking anyone in my long years on this earth. And I go on rutting into her until her walls flutter around me and she screams my name to the heavens. Her climax triggers my own, tearing through my very soul as I fill her tight pussy with my cum.

We pant for breath, and I run my nose up from her collarbone to her jaw. Despite my orgasm, her scent has my mouth watering, and both my fangs and my cock continue to ache. The desire to taste her blood is so intense, and it takes all of my carefully curated years of restraint to resist. My strength has returned, and it would do me minimal harm now to sip from her poisoned veins. But as long as Giorgios’s whereabouts and intentions are unknown, he is a danger to her. Not to mention the uncertainty of Lucian’s role in all of this. It would be reckless to do anything that would weaken me in any way.

Ophelia whimpers, and tremors vibrate through her beautiful body. And whilst I yearn to taste her blood, I will console myself with tasting my other favorite part of her soon enough. Which reminds me…

“We should get you some food, little one. I am sure we will find you some sustenance in the pantry.”

She shakes her head. “I’m not hungry.” Her voice is little more than a whisper.

Her pulse flutters. She seems weakened, and I cannot afford to let my desire for her cloud my decision-making. “When was the last time you ate?”

“I don’t know. It’s been a while. But right now, I can’t even think about eating.”

Her heart is racing erratically in her chest, her entire body shaking. “Why are you trembling, little one?” Whilst I can read her mind and feel her emotions, I despise not feeling everything through our bond, and I yearn for it to be back in place.

“I…” She sucks in a harsh breath, and the tear that runs down her cheek comes to rest on the plump bow of her lip. She licks it off before I can. “I thought you were… and now you’re here… and I…” She squeezes her eyes closed, and I do not need our bond to know the myriad of thoughts and what-ifs running through her head or to feel the pain of my loss still clinging to her bones. The deep sense of relief and elation at finding me alive, at having me here, pressed up against her, is so intense I can taste it. I am real, although she cannot bring herself to fully believe it is true. The same emotions threaten to overwhelm me, but the pervading emotion for me is one of sheer joy—I am here with her, and my boys are safe.

All the anguish of the past four weeks—Giorgios’s betrayal, Ophelia’s revelations about Lucian—everything pales into insignificance now that she is in my arms. I fasten my pants and scoop her up before carrying her through the open-plan living area to one of the bedrooms at the back of the house, where I set her on the edge of the king-sized bed.

My knees thud against the cool marble floor, and I slide my hands down her thighs, still clad in her torn jeans, until I reach her boots and begin to untie them. “I do not believe I have ever seen you in jeans before, little one.”

“They’re more convenient, don’t you think?”

My lips twitch in a smirk. “I suppose that all depends on what you are doing.”

She smiles too, but it disappears quickly and is replaced by a sadness in her eyes that I cannot bear to see. “My skirts didn’t feel practical anymore. It felt like we had to be prepared for anything…” The reminder of where she has spent the last few weeks causes a deep well of rage to open up inside me and threaten to swallow me whole.

She traces her fingertips over my cheek, leaving a trail of heat flickering across my skin. “I missed you so much.”

I push thoughts of my brother aside, if only for now, because Ophelia deserves every single shred of my attention. “And I you, little one.” After placing her foot on my thigh, I continue untying her boots.

“What are you doing down there?” she asks.

With a sharp tug, I remove one boot along with her sock, then make a start on the other. “What, you mean kneeling at your feet?”

She flutters her eyelashes. “Yes.”

Once her second shoe and sock have been discarded, I lift her leg and press a kiss to her ankle. “There is no more fitting place in the world for me to be, agápi mou.” I run my hands back up her thighs and pull the torn fabric of her jeans and panties down her legs before discarding them. “And nowhere on earth I would rather be.” The scent of her grows stronger with each passing second, and my cock aches, urging me to bury myself inside her again until nothing exists but the two of us. I force her thighs apart with my shoulders, and with a hand around her throat, I squeeze gently, pushing her to lie back on the bed.

“I have thought about you every second of every day we have been apart.” I run my nose up the inside of her thigh, inhaling deeply and allowing her scent to fill me until it floods my senses and my mouth is watering to taste her. She whines for me, the sound loaded with desperation. But I must savor every moment, every single millisecond of this. “You are soaked, little one.”

“Because I need you. Please!”

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