Page 110 of The Monster and the Last Blood Match

“Is it always this wonderful?” she murmured softly.

He inhaled deeply. “No. It’s stronger when it’s emotionally charged.”

She sat up on her elbows and smiled at him. “Come here.”

“It’s not safe.”

“Then don’t bite me.”

“What if I can’t stop?”

“You will,” she told him. “We’ll take it slow.”

He cleared the distance between them. “The last thing I want is to take this slow.”

His lips claimed hers once more with a fiery passion that she matched. With their lips still pressed together, she hurried backward on the bed, grasping his shoulders and drawing him back with her. He covered her body, and she grinded against him. So little clothing remained between them, and she pushed at his pants in earnest. He swiftly followed her command and removed them, and she rushed out of her underwear.

Pressing her legs farther apart, he slipped his fingers down in between her lips and massaged the wetness over her clit. She sighed and tilted her head back. Her body was so sensitive and heightened even from the smallest bite earlier. She could feel how easily her body responded to his touch and how attuned to him she really was.

Suddenly, the head of his cock replaced his fingers, and she arched off the bed, pushing him farther into her. She reached out and grabbed his arm for leverage, but he had other ideas. His hand snatched up her wrists and pushed them over her head. Then his dick thrust deep inside of her. She cried out as he stretched her to full.

Her eyes fluttered open and stared up at the deep, dark orbs. He looked not a bit hesitant. He was all man. Primal. Taking what was his in that moment. She could read it all over his face.

Mine.

Then he pumped in and out, faster and faster. Her body moved in time with him, and even when her heart felt as if it might beat out of her chest, she didn’t ask him to stop. This was fierce and rough. Bodies slapping against each other. Heat building between them. Climax waiting on the brink.

Beckham was fucking her, and she loved it. Every minute of it. She poured her heart and soul into each movement.

He leaned forward on his forearms, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. She never wanted this moment to end. But she felt herself so near to her max. And by the way he grunted and fell forward into her neck, he was almost there, too.

“Oh God,” she cried. She clenched tight all around him, her body seizing up as waves of pleasure rocked through her.

Then she felt something else. A prick at her neck. Two pricks. Two very distinct pricks.

Beckham shuddered into her body as his orgasm took over him, but his lips stayed glued to her throat. This time, it wasn’t a flood. It was a hurricane. A violent rush that knocked the climax she had experienced out of the water. Endorphins took over. Her body didn’t just feel fuzzy; it was starting to feel numb. The adrenaline was coursing through her system and attempting to revitalize her, but her fight-or-flight response wasn’t working.

She wanted this. She wanted him to keep drinking. She wanted to feel this eternal paradise. She was trapped in the current and forgetting that she even wanted to swim out of it.

Then it was as if Beckham went deeper into her throat. She felt another prick, and it jolted her out of her daze. He wasn’t stopping. Shit! He wasn’t stopping. He had said it was hard to stop. He had said that he was struggling with it. Why had she tempted him? God, she wanted this, but not like this.

“Beckham,” she cried. She slapped him as hard as she could on the shoulder. He didn’t move. She screamed his name again and shook him. She didn’t know how much he had taken, but if he kept drinking, he would kill her.

She rocked her body around and then screamed at the top of her lungs. The sound of the scream made him wrench his head up to look at her. His eyes were dark and empty. Her blood dripped down his fangs, over his chin, and fell down onto her chest. He was a predator, an animal, and the sight terrified her more than she ever thought it would.

Reyna scrambled away from him and off the bed. She grabbed for her clothes and put them on before she even thought another second about what she was doing.

She was dizzy and delirious. She didn’t know what to think. All she knew was that he was going to kill her. He hadn’t stopped, and he was going to kill her.

He came back to himself for a split second when he saw her rushing into clothes.

“Reyna?” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

She was shaking from head to toe. “You were going to kill me.”

“I wasn’t…”

“I trusted you,” she whispered, her voice breathy.

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