Page 68 of Our Little Monster
He cracked his eyes open just so he could cup my face with a bloodied hand and run a thumb over my tear-smeared cheeks. I shook my head.
I didn’t want to leave him.
I didn’t want to lose him.
I didn’t have a choice.
I knew in that moment that I would let him feed from me.
I looked over my shoulder again and then back toward the trail that would lead us to the house. Placing one of my legs over his waist so I was straddling him against the tree, I knew this position would be the easiest for him to get to my neck.
“Serina, what are you doing?” he asked.
I moved my hair away from my neck, and he realized what I was doing, what I was going to allow him to do.
“No.” He shook his head. “No, Serina, I can’t—I won’t do that to you.” His eyes looked over my neck with a sadness to them because of the light pink scar that had become a constant reminder of one of the worst days of my life.
I shoved it all aside. This was different.
“You will. I’m not leaving you here,” I urged, and he eyed me for a moment, his heady gaze full of contemplation, searching mine for any doubt that I may have had.
I wanted him to feed from me. There wasn’t any doubt in my mind that I wanted to save him. And he wouldn’t find any, either.
His throat bobbed as he glanced at my neck and then back to my face. I leaned into him, getting closer until our faces were a hair’s breadth apart.
“This will only hurt for a second,” he started, and I nodded my head, my palms growing clammy as he grabbed my wrists and rested my hands on his chest. “Push away from me if it’s too much,” he ordered.
He eyed me, wanting me to be well-informed and in control of what was happening. Then he kissed at my pulse, causing heat to pool in my gut.
“You’re in control,” he reassured me as he took one of his hands and tilted my neck to the side to give him better access to me. “You’re safe, Serina,” he whispered against my skin before his fangs buried into my neck. Hitting their mark with quick precision.
A gasp left my lips; I hadn’t had time to even tense from pain.
In the same moment, a groan came from him. The sound made my entire body shiver. And instead of pain, I felt… desire as he pulled his first drink from me.
It coursed through me, instantly making my eyes flutter as he gripped my hips as if he was trying to maintain any control he had to stop himself from feverishly grabbing onto me and pulling me into him.
He wanted me to be in control, wanted me to feelsafe.
But as the venom of his bite heated my blood, my core, even I didn’t trust myself. I’d give him every last fucking drop of me.
I needed him, needed more.
My hips rolled against the hard length of his desire, and even through the layer of our pants I reveled in the delicious friction. I couldn’t stop; I was no longer in control. His venom had taken a hold of me—my body.
A moan left my lips as his tongue moved languidly over my neck with every long pull he took from me.
A fire burned through my very center, flaring up my spine with every thrust against his hard cock beneath me. I cried out as I gripped onto him, riding him faster until I saw stars explode behind my vision and his name became a whispered moan on my lips.
Did I just do that?
With one last drink, he pulled away with a groan as he kissed the wound gently and leaned back against the tree, heaving for breath. He watched me a moment before he growled and gripped my face, kissing me so beautifully it worked another whimper up my throat.
I leaned into the kiss. It was deep, slow, and heavy. I could taste my lingering blood still on his tongue. I started unbuttoning his shirt, my hands desperate to get to his pants, when he pulled away again.
“No,” he said. “No, it’s my venom. This isn’t whatyouwant, not yet.” Trying to catch his breath, he shook his head.
I looked down at his wounds. The only thing there now was the leftover blood on his clothes, pink puffy marks marring his skin from where he had been clawed and bitten, but I was sure they would be gone by tonight.
