Page 97 of Our Sins in Silver (Coven of Sin 3)

“Bratty as always,” he sneered, a rueful smile painting his features.

His wings flexed behind him, feathers rustling as if in anticipation while his hand dropped to his fly. “Open your fucking mouth.”

He had himself out in the next moment, gripping the base of his cock with one hand while the other melded into my hair. His hips canted forward, and the thick head of him prodded my lips, requesting entry.

On the next beat of my drumming heart, he was inside me, sliding over my tongue. “Ah. That’s it, little monster. Your mouth feels so damn good.”

He wasn’t as large as he’d been on the Boston Coven stage or when I’d been the cream in the Eros-and-Vin sandwich in this very graveyard. But he was still bigger than most, heavy on my tongue and filling up every spare millimeter of space in my mouth.

I worked his cock like my life depended on it, licking and lapping, swirling my tongue with everything it had. I even took my hands away from pleasuring myself to stroke his base while my tongue traced over the slit at his tip. He emanated the most delicious groan when my lips suckled at his sensitive head.

In no time, he was gasping. Then I flicked my attention skyward and swallowed my own gasp.

With the moon behind him, my feral king wore a crown of silver. The shadows masked much of his face, but I could still make out most of his details and the way I was affecting him. His thighs trembled. His barreled chest heaved. His fingers shook against my scalp.

Much longer, and I’d bring him to his knees. The thought did something to me, making my imagination run rampant.

I wanted him. All of him. I wanted his monster to come out and play so he could deliver on all the promises he’d made.

He’d get there. He just needed a little nudge. So, when he was deep in my throat, fucking the ever-loving shit out of it, I bit him.

He jerked, a tight “ugh” blowing from him. Then the pain set in as the mark took its form, and he screamed. It was more in fury than pain.

Fisting my hair, he dragged me off his cock and hauled me in front of him. He held his cock, examining the puncture marks at his base before sliding his glare up to slice right through me.

“You marked my dick!”

I couldn’t resist. Not after learning you could actually mark your mate more than once. “Stupid vampire. Let your fae side out to play. All of it. Let it take over. He won’t be too much of a pussy to mark me.”

The flame in Vincent’s eyes was hot enough to destroy. “I’m going to give you ten seconds to run.”

The moment he released me, I took off.

He gave methreeseconds.

When his thick arms hooked around my waist, larger than before, I knew he was a goner to his other side, just like me. Good. I wanted him to give in, to surrender to whatever happened when we were together with our humanity shoved far away. Together, we could screw without the ever-looming threat of being yanked back by the inhibitions of our other selves.

“There’s my feral monster,” I said with a manic smirk. I twisted my head sideways to look at him from where he held me from behind, trapping me against his chest.

“Here I am,” he snarled. He pressed his naked dick against the back of my thigh, hot and throbbing. Just like his arms, it was larger than it had been before. Much larger.

He let out a cruel laugh when my breath hitched. “Big enough for you, little monster?”

“You can’t fuck me with that,” I gasped. “Make it smaller.”

“Smaller?” His grin curled against my ear, and his laughter turned booming as it threaded through my core, sinking to where I burned for him. “If you wanted it smaller, you wouldn’t have made such an effort to draw me out like this.”

I twisted my neck to get a better look at him. His body was covered in more feathers now. His muscles were as hard as stone and brimming with power that seeped into me.

He was annoying in how right he was. Not because there was any shame in a girl getting some magnum-sized D. I just hated when he knew he was right. That arrogant smile of his wasn’t doing anything to ease my need for him.

Ihaddone this on purpose. I lived for the way his cock hardened against me, how his greedy hands caressed me like I was the only thing he needed for survival. I loved how he fought me and how he liked to think he was the alpha in this outfit.

It was fun toying with him.

“How’s that dick burn, Feral?”

He balled his fists, and his knuckles cracked with fury. But there was no hiding the way his mouth tilted into a discordant grin. I’d tasted his ire enough to know when I’d actually upset him and when he was just playing the broody-alpha card because he knew how damn wet it got me.

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