Page 34 of Crimson Devotion
I came here fully prepared to kill Ophelia. I wanted nothing more but to see her bleed, to see the life drain out of her eyes, until she perished, just like many vampires that I’ve ruined throughout the years. Her downfall was the only reason I decided on going against my better judgement and doing something as reckless as traveling to a foreign country, across the world, all alone.
But now?
I don’t know what’s different.
I’d be lying if I said I was completely fine with her turning me into a vampire. However, when Ophelia swore up and down that she didn’t mean to turn me into one, I believed her. She couldn’t have known how our lives would get turned upside down, or how it would affect us in the long run. And as vampires, the long run is extremely fucking long.
And now that we’ve been thrown into this situation, I’m not sure I’d ever want to leave. Blaming it on the mate bond is the easiest thing to do, and it’s partially the reason I’m unable to spend even two hours apart from this woman. However, on a deeper level, I fear I’d be just as connected to her even if it weren’t for the bond.
It’s been just over a month since she turned me into a vampire, and since she revealed that she was my fated mate. Only a month. Yet, my entire life now revolves around her. There’s no me if there’s no her. No life for me unless she’s in it.
But the reason I came here was to find out what exactly happened to my parents. She couldn’t have been the one to kill them — I understand that now. The fact remains that they were killed, and I won’t stop until I’ve found who did it and why.
“Is there a reason you’re staring at the back of my head,little hunter?”
Ophelia’s angelic voice snaps me out of my trance. She turns to look at me, dressed in her nightgown that barely reaches her thighs. My mouth goes dry, and I force myself to look her in the eyes — although, it’s not of much help.
The soft sun gleam flutters through the thick curtains, falling onto her face. Her eyes seem brighter, redder than before. A color that’s somehow become my favorite. Her lips are coated in a thin layer of light pink lip oil, shimmering under the light.
“You keep calling me that.’’ I clear my throat, doing my best to keep my emotions at bay. Whenever our eyes lock, whenever she gives me that look, it takes all the strength in my body not to tear her clothes off — not that she’d actually let me. She likes to be the one to take care of me, but sometimes, I just want to return the favor.
“Does it bother you?”
“No.’’ I sigh, approaching her. She crosses her legs, head cocking to the side. Slowly, she drags that intense gaze all over me, skimming over my entire body, especially the way her clothes look on me. I’m not sure why she has such a variety of clothes, especially in different sizes, but I don’t want to ask, either. The thought of it belonging to a past lover makes my blood boil. “But I’m no longer a hunter.’’
Ophelia’s hands come to rest on my hips, eyes flicking up to meet mine. She rubs circles into the flesh over the fabric, soothing me to the best of her abilities. The smallest of touches from her are enough to get me excited.
“It doesn’t matter.’’ She chuckles. “You’ll always be my little hunter.’’
Without another word, Ophelia pulls me to sit on her lap. My hands instinctively move to wrap around her neck, fingers gently intertwining with her silky hair. Her gaze softens, her red eyes full of something I could only describe as adoration.
Neither of us speaks; the silence that surrounds us is enough to tell the deepest, unspoken thoughts. My hands move from the nape of her neck to her cheeks, thumbs gently brushing the strands that are covering her face. Her eyes close, and a small smile tugs on the corners of my lips.
I lift her chin upward slightly, then place my lips on hers. Ophelia’s reaction is immediate — she kisses me back with a force I’ve never felt before. She’s devouring me through the kiss, pulling me closer in a desperate attempt to mold our bodies together. Her hands clutch around the fabric of the dress, her tongue dragging along the seam of my lips.
My lips part, and the moment I taste the sweetness on her tongue, my mind goes blank. Ophelia groans into the kiss, sucking on my tongue gently. It sends shock waves all throughout my body, and all the restraint I had goes out the window as she pulls back, looking at me with glossy eyes, swollen lips and heavy breathing.
She lets out something between a whine and a growl when I get off her lap, reluctantly letting go of my hips. However, her eyebrows lift to her hairline when she sees me get down on my knees between her legs.
I push her own apart, stroking her inner thighs. Our eyes lock, and she’s silent, waiting for what I’ll do next. My heart thumps against my ribcage as excitement rushes through my veins. It’s not like I’ve never done this before — I have. But Ophelia’s never let me be the one to make her feel good, her sole focus on my pleasure.
I’m a little scared that she won’t like it, or that I won’t be able to make her feel good. My hands tremble, and she notices the nervousness on my face. She chuckles, then starts stroking my hair gently, parting her legs farther.
“Don’t think too much about it, alright?”
I nod, then start planting kisses on her inner thighs. Ophelia’s hand threads through my hair, holding it tightly andgiving me a little tug. Looking up at her, I’m met with one of the darkest looks she’s ever given me. If this woman could eat me whole, she would, in an instant.
She holds eye contact as I sink my teeth into the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, then moans loudly. Ophelia pushes my head farther into her skin, the blood coating my tongue.
She’s given me full access to the fridge where she keeps all the blood, and she has bags of every single blood type. I tried them all, yet none of them taste quite as sweet as hers. It’s addictive, and mixed with the vampire venom that runs through her body, it’s enough to have me craving more.
The thick liquid fills my mouth, and the more I suck, the louder her moans become. The hand holding my hair starts trembling, and the scent of her arousal hits me instantly. The scent is rich, and it makes all of this so much harder to deal with. It’s the smell I want to smell all the fucking time. She has me completely wrapped around her little finger, at her mercy.
Suddenly, she pulls my head back, and I whine at the loss of contact. Blood dribbles down my chin, and the corner of my lips, my teeth painted in her color. Her eyes darken, a feral look overtaking her features. I’m not sure whether it’s the fact that I’m practically soaked with her blood, or the fact that I’m on her knees before her — and I don’t care.
“Fuck, little hunter,’’ she breathes out, voice low. “You look so fucking perfect with my blood all over you.’’
“Thank you,’’ I whisper.
