Moving from her mouth, I push into the danger zone and take her throat, open mouthed, teeth scraping her skin as I suck and bite and lick. Everything gentle.
I want to feed. The urgency pulsates in my veins, swells my cock even harder, if that’s possible. It wouldn’t take much to slice her open and suck her dry, both of us coming. And her tiny moans, the way she thrusts against me, throat and cunt, tell me she wants that.
She pushes her throat into my mouth and the gush of her blood, safe in its vein, moves through her artery. I can hear itpump through her heart, like I can feel it rush to her cunt. And as I move my thumb, her blood throbs in her clit.
She comes hard, a cry that’s strangled and my fangs distend. My cock strains hard and I almost bite her. Almost sink in so fucking deep I’m in heaven. But I stay this side of hell. Just.
Elliot’s drunk on me, on her orgasm. My licks hold power, I’m aware, and I take advantage as she sinks down, dragging against my hand. She goes to my trousers, and as I yank her head back again, her eyes are glazed with lust.
I should stop.
Instead, I allow her to pull me free. My cock looks huge in her hand, and I almost lose it as she strokes. The first live hand to touch me since Nell. I stagger back as she pulls against my hand, sinks to her knees, and takes me in her mouth.
“Fuck…”
I hadn’t expected her to do that, but shit… the heat and wetness are everything. She sucks me down, and since I figure since she’s offered herself to me, I can take over. I push deep into her throat, a claim of its own.
I sink my hands into her hair, against her scalp so I can hold her, use her, give her a lesson in slavery of the sexual kind. I hammer her mouth, hard, rough strokes that turn her into an animal that claws at me. She tries to fight my hold on her hair, to pull me to her, clearly wanting more and more, deeper and rougher, and I give it.
The way she sucks is unlike the vampires with decades of experience, some of them centuries.
I want to hunt down and destroy any man who touched her before me. I want to fuck her cunt, her ass, and make sure every inch is mine. I want her tie her up with ropes, make her almost come that way…then I’d taunt with whips. When I’d had enough of playing with her, moving the ropes, building her experience, I’d make her come and come again after I untied her.
Fuck, I want to delve down into the light of her soul and find the darkness she holds inside.
Each thrust is fuel. Each suck and gag from her are matches. She’s the personification of delicious, and I try and hold out, stretch the moment.
It should be easy.The easiest thing in the world.
But with her, it seems, my control is hardest to hold onto.
I stare down, the drool that coats her chin and her dress, the way the hem’s bunched up and her panties still twisted are all fucking hot. The glisten of her bare lips from their coating of arousal even more so.
I start to pound down deep into her throat that I can’t stop it. My body is electric, my balls high and the aching need too much. The pleasure is too strong. I take her head and thrust down her throat where I empty myself, my cock so entrenched in her it can’t twitch.
The pleasure doesn’t just flood.It consumes.
When the orgasm ends, I pull out of her, and she slowly stands, her chest rapidly rising and falling.
It takes me a few moments to tuck myself away.
There’s fear in her eyes. Arousal, too. And curiosity. A morbidly dark kind.
I don’t smile.
I lock eyes with her.
She knows I’m not normal. I’m other. She has no clue what exactly, but she doesn’t run.
Instead of mesmerizing her, charming her, I just say, “I can make you forget.”
“Is that what you did to Kayla?”
I didn’t ask about the name from my police contact. “The girl who worked here? I never met her. She left.”
Though dazed, her eyes still flash. “You killed her.”
Silence spreads. “Dangerous words, Miss Montague.”