Page 39 of Last Shot at Love

Want.

Don’t do it.

Hungry.

Might not stop.

Hurt him.

Her thoughts were broken, spilling over into my mind.

Beryl had said she’d never drank from a living being before.

So did that mean I was the first blood she was tasting from a vein? And that I was the first she’d ever bitten?

My cock engorged to a point it was excruciating, and unable to stop myself, I bucked my hips against her bikini bottoms.

The friction was torture and paradise all at once, and my groan was followed by an adorable whimper from Beryl.

Slipping my fingers into her hair, I cradled the back of her head, holding her mouth tight against my skin. “Drink.”

Her breathing came in fast pants, and I worried she was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Let me feed you,” I growled. “Stop fighting it.”

Her arms wrapped around my torso, and her pointed nails dug into my skin, much like a predator guarding its prey.

Then her beautiful mouth sucked against my skin, pulling my blood into her mouth and sending pleasure surging through every cell of my body.

Each time she drew a mouthful of blood from my neck, my hips jerked, grinding against her, my body instinctively seeking a release for the dark lust and need I was drowning in.

Bold, royal-blue rings were visible across my skin, a warning that I was nearing my breaking point and close to losing it.

Beryl sucked faster, and the fragrance of her arousal grew thick in the air. Her sweet whimpers and muffled moans were turning my blood into molten lava.

Taste… like… heaven.

Need… to stop.

Mine.

I closed my eyes, fighting against the burn of unshed tears, as her last word drifted through my mind. Beryl was in the throes of feeding and lust, but a primal part of her mind had called me hers…

And not because a piece of paper said so.

But because her heart had claimed me.

Easing the tight grip I had on her hair, I tilted my neck to the side, giving her better access and cradling her head as she drank.

“That’s it. Good girl,” I praised, encouraging her to take what she wanted.

She moaned, and her thighs clamped tighter around me.

Grabbing her waist with my free hand, I held her still as I thrust my hips upward. My erection slid along the fabric of her bikini bottoms, and with each rock of my hips, the rough friction continued to drive us both ever closer to the edge.

Beryl froze, her back arched, and her fangs released my neck.

“Cerulean!” she screamed my name, her body trembling with waves of pleasure.

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