Page 66 of Dark Flame
“Yes.”
Ducking down, I swipe my tongue over her clit, ending her hissed response. The liquid flowing from her pussy is greater than divinity, as guessed. There’s nothing on Earth, besides maybe her blood, that is more appealing. There’s something mystical to the flavour, as though invented in Heaven by the angels themselves, except Heaven is so far out of reach for us both.
“Your fucking taste…” My mumble remains unfinished, no words quite able to describe it.
I lick her while fucking her with my fingers, my other hand resting on her hip to still her movements. I have to maintain dominance over her before she makes me lose myself entirely, as my control is getting shredded with every little gasp, moan, and cry she releases from her pretty little throat.
Imustclaim her, that much I’m aware. If I don’t fuck her and satisfy the mate bond, it’ll remain unfinished and eventually drive me to madness.
Unless she fights me. Tells me no. It’s a fine line, because no matter how much I need to claim her, the monster inside me won’t be able to hurt her. In the end, my Bride has the ultimate choice.
And she’s choosing wrong…
I swipe my tongue over her clit again as my fingers slow, teasing her insides, not letting her come yet. Not until I get my fangs in her thigh. I nuzzle the area until her breath hikes before piercing her skin and sliding my teeth cleanly inside.
“Yes,”she groans, her thighs clamping around my head, but I force them back to the bed.
With her juices on my tongue and her blood in my mouth, my cock is painfully hard, eager to bury itself inside her. But she has to come like this. Just like this. Ineedit.
Once again, I press into the sensitive spot inside her, and she bucks into my hand, her thighs pushing against my grip. Her moan fills my room, a sound my immortal memory will savour for days, months, even years, to come. Her cunt clamps down as I finger-fuck her through her orgasm. I drink harder, my tongue massaging her thigh as blood flows freely, a part of me demanding I stay right here for the rest of the night.
She’s panting when I unhook my fangs and slide my fingers from her. I rise up, needing to see for myself she’s okay, and am greeted with a tentative smile.
“That was…um.” Her cheeks go red. Harlow’s almost too beautiful for her own good.
Harlow.
From the moment I realized what she is to me, she stopped being Sinclair.
She’s my Hellion. My Harlow.
I can’t respond. Words refuse to formulate into sentences that’ll actually be comprehensible to her.
I move off her and the bed, stripping my clothes quickly, the material an irritating barrier between our bodies. Longing pulses through me, my gaze bouncing between her face and her pussy, my cock twitching at the sight of both. But utterly undone when she bites her bottom lip.
Take her.
Claim her.
My Bride.
Once stripped, I rejoin her on the bed—mybed. She’s the first in centuries to ever be here.
And the last.
I readjust her body farther up the mattress, and the monster inside rumbles in contentment when she doesn’t fight me positioning her arms above her head. My fingers stroke against her scars, a fresh hatred pouring into me, more intense now than when Freya explained them.
Sheneedsto stop being so perfectly submissive before both our lives are forever changed.
No—she must submit. She needs to let me take her. She has to become mine. Fully, completely, utterly mine. I must devour every part of her. Every tear she’ll ever shed. Every smile. Every laugh. Every drop of blood.
All.
Fucking.
Mine.
“You okay?”
