Page 34 of Bloodstained
“Clara,” I groaned. “I need you, my Queen.”
She licked her little pink lips, then leaned forward and licked the bulbous crown of my cock. I stilled every muscle in my body, strung tight. And when she pulled my foreskin back and dragged her tongue over the slit, I groaned and let my head tip back slightly as ecstasy stole through me.
I shook and reached out, cupping either side of her head as she took me in the hot, wet recess of her mouth. I could feel every swipe of her tongue, how she hollowed out her cheeks, and when she took me all the way to the back of her throat. She sucked on me until my balls drew up and I knew I’d come. I had to stop her, to my disappointment, because when I came, I’d be buried in her pussy.
I looked down at her as she glanced up at me, her lips red and swollen, glossy from saliva. She still had a tinge of red smeared on her cheek, the sight of that blood causing my black, dark heart to pound fiercely.
“Fuck me… husband.”
I hissed and felt my fangs throb. I positioned us so I was on my back and Clara straddled me. It took every ounce of control I possessed not to notch my head at her tiny hole and shove up at the same time I pulled her down on me. But I wanted Clara to do this, to know she had control over me.
I could have come just from the feel of her gripping my dick and positioning the tip at her entrance. She started to slowly sink down, her eyes wide, her mouth parted as her body opened and took all of me. When half of my cock was lodged inside of her, I gripped her hip tightly, giving her a reassuring squeeze. And when she pushed down another inch, I thrust up brutally, burying myself all the way inside.
She let her head fall back, baring her throat, and her pulse rapidly beat at the side of her neck.Beautiful.
“Ivan,” she whisper-moaned my name. She shook her head as if to clear it, eyes shut, the trace of pain still on her face. When she opened them again, I seized her hips, dragged her down, impaling her on my cock until she cried out.
“It hurts… but oh, it feels so good.” Her moan broke on the last word as she lifted slightly, then sank back down.
For long moments, she moved like that—slow, steady pumps—searching for her rhythm.
“Fuck yourself on me, Clara,” I growled. And she did, finding the perfect pace, driving me higher than I thought I could go.
The slick sounds of her pussy squeezing my cock filling my head.
“That’s it,” I rasped, fighting release, a rumble tearing from my throat.
She moaned again, rising and taking me deeper, her wet heat slickening every thrust until she could swallow me whole.
Pure torture. The sweetest kind.
“Take more. Take all of me. Don’t stop.”
My teeth bared, my voice raw. “Use me. Take what you need.”
And she did. Her rhythm steadied, hips rolling, pleasure building, her body surrendering as mine demanded. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, her slick cunt pulling me deeper, milking me, summoning me like a siren’s call.
“That’s it,” I rasped, fighting release, my chest rumbling with a sound that was not wholly human.
I dragged her arm to my mouth, biting down hard enough to make her gasp. Blood from the twin marks on her forearm welled instantly, hot and rich, spilling over my tongue. I drank as she rode me, my cock buried in her while her pulse spilled into me, binding us in flesh and blood.
I tore my mouth away long enough to paint the crimson across her breasts, streaking her nipples with her own heat. “Look at you,” I growled, pressing my thumb against the slicked peak. “My sacrifice.”
Her moan shattered against the walls as she arched, riding harder, her cunt getting wetter with every thrust.
I leaned up, caught her mouth in a brutal kiss, smearing the blood between our lips. She tasted herself and me. Copper, life, hunger.
“Take more,” I demanded, my voice a vow, my body a weapon. “Take all of me, Clara. Don’t stop until you’ve drained my balls dry and I’ve buried every drop of myself inside you.”
The firelight painted her in gold and shadow, flames flickering against the curve of her breasts and the delicate lines of her throat. Clara’s skin glowed as though it belonged to some higher realm.
I watched her with the carnal need of a man starved for centuries. My physical appetite had always been blood and death, but what I was truly starved for had always been her.
With her, it was more. It was everything.
I reached up, curling my hands around her breasts, feeling the soft weight, the heat, the pulse of life beneath her skin. I twisted her nipples hard enough that her eyes flashed open, widening, a cry spilling from her lips.
“Come for me,” I growled, voice rough and low. “Give me what I want because you were made to please me.”
