Page 111 of Of Spindles and Nightfall
“What do you need, Aryana?” he growled.
She rolled her hips against the bed. “Zarathos, please.”
He chuckled. “Do you ache for me, little vampire?”
“Yes, oh, gods, yes.” She’d never been so desperate for anything in her life. She felt as if she’d die if she didn’t feel him between her legs.
“Patience.” He leaned forward and murmured in her ear. “Tonight, I set the pace.”
She whimpered again and this time bit his arm, drawing more of that lovely crimson fluid. He uttered a soft curse, but then he was rubbing all the harder, shoving her breasts against the covers. Everything was rubbing until he spilled against her. Then he was pressing against her ass, forcing her hips harder and harder into the blankets. Her legs spread and the burning between her thighs heightened as the ecstasy built. This time when he came, she released his arm and cried out as she tipped over the edge of the cliff with him.
She panted, grasping against the silken sheets. He’d made her come just by shoving her into the damn bedding.
“Did you enjoy that?” Something soft and smooth roved up her leg, gliding over her skin. It poked carefully, stroking her opening. Was that… Zarathos had a tail he’d kept hidden in his trousers? She moaned. Whatever it was, it felt so good.
He pulled her up off the bed and turned her to face him. She took in his hard cock, gods and his tail, long and thin, whipping behind him, reminding her of a cat playing with his prey.
Was Zarathos having… fun?
His bleeding hand was in her hair, and he pulled her close, shoving his mouth against hers. He kissed her and kissed her. Each time his lips crashed against hers, he dragged her under in a sea of unending night. His long pronged tongue slipped past her lips, gliding overher own, skimming over the roof of her mouth. He was determined to claim every single bit of her.
And Aryana craved nothing less.
He backed her up across the room. She went willingly with him. Then he gripped her wrist, and she heard the snap of something metal. Glancing down, her eyes widening. He really used these? She didn’t fight as he snapped the second shackle over her wrist and then stepped back with that evil smile on his face. Reaching up, he grabbed the chains looped through the hook on the ceiling. With a firm yank on the chain, he lifted Aryana’s hands above her head, pulling her off her feet so that she dangled in the air.
“Now, Vampress, you are completely at my mercy.”
A week ago she would’ve been terrified, but tonight she only experienced a spark of excitement, a desperate curiosity to know what he would do to her next.
Dark wings appeared, unfurling behind him. With expert precision, they lifted him into the air until his cock pressed along her throat. His legs curled around her, his wings folding them into a kind of heated cocoon.
The chains above her head rattled as he reached up and gripped them as leverage. He thrust that thick length against her throat and chest, claiming her, all of her. Curses fell from his lips like the dark whispers of the night, his breaths heavy. She couldn’t take it. The next time it slipped up her throat, she dipped her head until the tip of his cock moved up her chin and she dropped her tongue out, licking the tip.
He froze—then adjusted among the chains as if he were a bat, trying to find the best possible hanging position. His shaft slid between her lips and his hips moved in and out. At the next thrust, she nicked his skin, his blood flooding her mouth, and there were no more moans and grunts of pleasure. Zarathos emitted a roar. He bucked inside her, almost hurting her, but she liked it, sucking harder, drawing his essence as he raged above her, snarling and swearing—dominating him.
When he came, it poured, hot and forceful, down her throat and she swallowed it with his blood. How she loved this. She could do it all night. But Zarathos eased his length from between her lips.
“Naughty Vampress,” he taunted in that soft, silken voice. “Remember, I am in control.”
He wedged his hand into her mouth and she bit, willingly taking his offering as he thrust against her throat and chest, her breasts, her stomach. Each time he came and released himself onto her, he slowly sank further down her body. Before starting anew, he’d pause and grind himself against her, spreading the cum, coating her thoroughly. When he reached her abdomen, his tail slid up her leg again, slipping between her legs. Aryana abandoned her hold on whatever part of him she’d bitten to let out a sharp gasp.
He kept his eyes on her from his grip on the chains, his evil grin growing wider as his tail drew up her seam. It stroked her, back and forth, again and again. It dipped into her opening and out. Oh shit. It slid in again. It twisted inside of her, and she writhed, her feet brushing nothing but air.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Yes. “Zarathos,” she gasped, and a deep chuckle left him.
“You are so fun to toy with.”
“Don’t stop toying.”
“As you wish, wife.”
He rubbed against her, his velvety cock shoved against her stomach, grating against her ribs. He groaned and grunted as his wetness and blood mingled across her body yet again.
And his tail continued to tease her. Stroking, twisting, inside, outside, driving her wild. Until she reached her breaking point. It was too much, too much pleasure. Her heart raced and white flashed before her vision, her whole body spasming under his touch. The next time his tail spun inside her, she hung her head back and screamed. How could he be this damn good at pleasing her?
Zarathos dropped to the floor, his chest coated in crimson and sweat. Aryana felt strong, powerful, but the space between her legs still ached to feel his cock between them. Like an expert puppeteer, he stepped up to the chain and lowered her until her toes grazed the floor.
