Page 24 of Up from the Earth

Yanking back, The King tore his fangs from my neck, smearing blood over my lips as he then crashed them against me. The salty burn of my blood was dizzying, creating a potent cocktail when mixed with his saliva.

I moaned against his lips, practically roaring. I wanted to taste it all,neededit.

The warm liquid smoothed over my skin, the injury still leaking, if slightly. I was knitting back together, but it was like The King's desire to see me bleed, and my want to please him kept me from healing entirely as I had earlier.

Fascinating.

“Get on the table, little beast.” The King hauled me toward it by his grip on my hair, tossing me against the side enough that it bit into my hip. “I shall devour you—completely.”

With a solid sting echoing through my bones, I climbed onto the table, shoving back the feast's contents haphazardly. A ripping sound echoed in the quiet space as the fabric of my dress tore, but I couldn’t have possibly cared less. The neckline was already stained red, the deeper color reminding me of the pomegranate I had taken from this very spread.

Turning toward The King, I perched on the edge of the table, desperate to feel him in my body, against my skin. I swelled with need, slick coating the insides of my thighs.

“I can smell that delicious cunt of yours, little beast.” He craned me backward, shoving my legs apart with his black-clawed fingers. “You're fucking dripping for me, sweet, little whore.”

Pricking my skin, tiny trails of crimson steadily wove a path down my flesh toward my seam. The King leaned over me, licking through my blood and winding his forked tongue lower and lower. Just as he was about to reach me, I snapped my hand out and grabbed his hair.

His blinding white stare whipped up to mine, and he snarled, desire and surprise mingling in his stare. I smirked down at him, reaching with my free hand to my right. His eyes tracked me as I plucked a pomegranate from the tumbled mound of fruit beside me.

Cocking a brow, The King waited long enough for me to dig my fingers into the flesh of the sangria-colored orb. I cracked it in half, crushing the beads inside and hovering them over my core so the tart juice decorated my intimate skin.

“Such a devious little thing,” he crooned, the enigmatic bass of his voice rumbling through my bones. “Scream for me, Cerri. Scream as I dine on your slick essence.”

With no other preamble, The King struck, sinking his fangs into the delicate flesh of my seam. I cried out, shaking the entire forest with my scream, and then the warmth of my blood mixed with the pomegranate's taste. The King languidly swirled his long tongue through the growing wetness, sliding over the impact point of his fangs before dipping down between my folds.

My mind was a foggy mess of overwhelming sensation, the agony and ecstasy feeding off each other. The dextrous wonders of The King’s tongue drove me wild, reducing me to a writhing tangle of limbs that he gripped as tight as vice to control. It slid in and out of me, reaching deep inside my cunt and twirling.

“Ugh!” I bucked against him, arching up off the table.

The King released one of my legs, which I immediately wrapped around his head. With this free hand, he groped blindly over the table until he’d found the object he sought. Just as he yanked his tongue free of me only to coil the prehensile appendage around my clit and squeeze, The King snatched his arm back, the heart of a stag coming with it.

The beast had been a part of the feast, a sacrifice willingly given, and my King now coated my already drenched skin in the heart’s blood of the loyal creature. I could sense the innate power of the animal—the magic of the deer—weave through my skin, absorbing into my very being.

“The taste of death upon you, little beast,” he slurped up the mess, tossing the organ aside and returning his commanding hold to my thigh, “it is the perfect compliment to your body that has given life.”

Life and death, pleasure and pain. I was all of it, all of it was me, and I shattered beneath The King’s sinful touch, the orgasm raking through me like being pulled over hot coals. They could never burn me bright enough. I needed more. I reeled up, gripping my King’s head and grinding my cunt against his mouth. Breath was clearly something he didn’t require because he devoured me with such incredible fervor, never once coming up for air.

That long tongue of his snaked deep into my channel, reaching my cervix and nudging at me as it circled. His teeth pricked at my lips, and then fingers were joining the efforts. I couldn’t sense the claws, thankfully retracted, and his fingers hooked into the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top of my walls.

“Fuck!” I screamed, and my arms were torn away from The King’s head in a flash of movement.

I couldn’t track the activity, it was so fast, and before I knew it, thick ropes of his endless black hair had woven around my wrists, pinning them down to the table. The change only distracted me from my orgasm for a moment before The King was pressing into that magic spot and flicking his tongue over my clit. The need for release burned through me, a torch in the darkness of my body.

“Come for me, wife. Drench me.”

The voice in my head was a harsh demand, rough and potent. And my body obeyed.

Intoxicating pressure, that slick in and out as his tongue pinched my clit, it was all so much, and I stood no chance against it. Bucking against his tongue, every muscle in my body went haywire as I came. It split me apart, my nerves laced with a fire so intense that I’d be feeling it for days. Warmth gushed from my center, a torrential storm that rained over my King’s lips and tongue and face.

He drank me down, wickedly smirking as he was painted with my cum, tinged pink from the blood and juice that still clung to me. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The sight was so depraved, so raw and filthy. But it was also this profound act, my King on his knees pleasuring me, consuming me, wearing me.

As much as he had claimed me, pulled what he wanted from my body, I had claimed him right back.

“My sweet,tastylittle beast.” He crawled up my body, his locks still holding my arms in place. “And that was just the beginning.”

My eyes widened; even through all of this, I found that hard to believe. Still, I knew all too well that my King had a way of surprising me—in the best possible ways.

“More.” I glared hungrily at him. “More.”

---