Page 66 of Feathers From the Sky

I sense him move, taking in the surrounding gore. “Nico, come handle this,” he says. Quieter, his lips move against my temple as he speaks for only me. “I thought you were dead. You were—if I hadn’t, you would have—”

Turning quickly, I grip his chin in my hand, overcome with some emotion I refuse to categorize. I bring my mouth to his and kiss him again. And again and again. It doesn’t matter that Nico is carrying bodies into the bathroom. When I rip Roman’s shirt from his shoulders and my nails drag down his back, I roll my body against him. Roman lets out of a soft tortured sound as he brings his hands to my hips, guiding my movements. The sound of Nico tossing severed limbs onto tile does nothing as I reach between us, fumbling with Roman’s pants. He kisses me hard, gentle movements gone as he brings one hand up, fisting my hair in his grasp. He controls my motions as his tongue slides into my mouth. When he breaks away, he tilts my head back, giving him access to my throat. He kisses my pounding pulse, licks where my blood has dried on my collarbone, drags a lazy fingertip down my chest. His calloused hands on my body are a sandpaper touch I welcome, wanting to rub raw the parts of me which crave him.

When I raise up on my knees and tug on my sleep shorts, Roman tears them free with a growl. He’s shifting, pulling his jeans down, freeing his cock. It’s heavy and thick as it rests against my inner thigh.

I need it.

We’re both naked, his skin hot against mine. He dips his head, curling his wicked tongue around my nipple. I gasp when he lets his sharpened fangs move dangerously over me, and I arch backwards. One of his hands supports my lower back while the other reaches up to cup my breast as he sucks me into his mouth. He bites gently, expertly, avoiding nicking me with those keen-edged teeth.

“How does your blood still smell so tempting?” he asks, smooth lips whispering against my pebbled flesh. He kisses me there, pressing his lush mouth to the purpled veins spider-webbed over my skin.

“Ansi’s tears,” Nico mutters, dropping the last body on his way out the door. I barely notice his words as Roman reaches between us, grabbing himself and slapping his cock against my pussy.

When he parts my skin, sliding a finger from clit to entrance, I’m almost embarrassed by how drenched I am for him. Our thighs are slick because of it, but the sound he makes is broken and raw, as if any lingering resolve has just been obliterated.

“If you want it, sweetheart, you have to take it,” he says. When he looks down, eyeing where his hard cock rests against me, those long thick lashes brush over his cheeks; I wish I were the one caressing him so gently. Raising up on my knees, I kiss him again while I fist him in my hand, notching him exactly where I need him.

I circle my hips, rubbing the head of his cock at my entrance, and I revel in the sharp intake of his breath and the dark look in his eyes. Pulling back, I watch him as I sink down. Barely breathing as I move, I watch the minuscule relaxation of his face, the dropped jaw, the ‘oh’ which forms on his lips, as I ease down the thick length of him, taking and taking and taking. A high-pitched whimper escapes me, and he steals it with another kiss. I can feel him twitch inside me as he stretches me. It feels so good, I don’t know if I can continue. But I do, squeezing him tightly as I take him completely. I can’t move, can’t breathe, only able to pant as I adjust to him inside me.

He feels so good, and it’s so tight, and I feel so full. He closes his eyes, tilting his head back as one of his hands moves to the middle of my back. When I angle my hips the slightest bit, he curses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Don’t move yet.” His other hand grips my thigh painfully, and I can’t help but smile.

“Is it too good?” I ask, and when I squeeze my muscles around him, he groans. I’m slowly rocking on him when he leans forward, biting my breast hard enough to hurt but not enough to break the skin. I yelp, and he sucks the ache away, pulling my nipple into his mouth as his hands reach around and cup my ass. He drags me toward him, helping guide me in his lap.

“It’s agony. This is the worst idea I’ve ever had.”

But his fingers dig into me, making me grind on his length, as he presses his mouth to my chest. I can’t control my noises when his teeth close around my nipple, holding it gently but firmly. Tilting my head, I arch backward, using my hands on his knees to support me. My blood still covers my skin, and he licks it as if he’ll never taste it again.

And that’s when I realize he won’t.

The blood spilled on my body belongs to someone else, someone different. Someone who is no longerme. There are bigger consequences to drinking my blood now.

But Roman noses my neck, and he makes a low sound in the back of his throat. I feel the sharp tip of his fangs as he licks me. I’m trying to writhe on him, but he holds my ass, forcing me to move slowly. But all I want is to take. I need to push him backward and ride him hard. I want it to hurt.

Roman grabs my thighs, helping me to reposition and wrap my legs around him. He thrusts up into me, and it’s too gentle. When he looks at me with a softened brow, the deep lines between them nearly gone, I almost regret wanting to rid him of them. The vulnerability in his eyes makes me feel things I know I shouldn’t.

I am here because of him. I am a vampire because of him.

I almost died. Ididdie.

When he reaches up to brush my hair out of my face, I grab his wrist. I can feel his pulse, hear the pounding of his heart, and my fangs snap out painfully. The satisfied sound he makes when I bite him, the way he uses his other hand on my hip to make me move, causes me to see red, and I don’t know why. I’m drinking from his wrist, staring at him, my anger growing more potent with every slide of his body inside mine.

He has no right to feel this good after what’s happened. He has no right to be the one I need right now, the one I crave, the one I simply cannot live without. If it had been anyone else, it would’ve been so much easier. I wouldn’t be so angry. I wouldn’t have the same regrets.

When a sob heaves up my throat, I drop his wrist and smack him as hard as I can. Lines of red appear on his cheek the moment my hand leaves his flesh. His eyes only widen as he stares up at me. My blood has mixed with his, staining his lips a brutal crimson. He doesn’t speak, but a slow smirk forms on his perfect mouth as he waits for me to speak.

“Why?” I ask. “Why didn’t you let me die?”

“Couldn’t,” he says simply, as if that’s all it is. As if he hadn’t been on the verge of killing me for weeks. Roman licks his lips, and I track the motion. His hands haven’t moved from my ass, and he thrusts upward, drawing a moan from me. “You’ve needed this,” he says, and when I assume he means his dick, I’m about to smack him again. He chuckles as he thrusts, using his fingertips digging into my flesh to pull me down harder. “Anger. You’ve needed this anger. It’s easier to be angry than it is to be anything else.”

“You don’t know shit about my anger,” I retort.

His arm wraps around me, and he holds me tight against him. Stomach to stomach, chest to chest, he gets in my face. I’m struck with the urge to bite him as hard as I can. I feel wild and untamed in a way I can’t begin to comprehend.

“I know everything about you, Gwyn.” Then his arms are hooking under my knees, and when he stands, I’m at his mercy. I’ve never been picked up like this before. The shift of gravity forces me to take him deeper than I thought possible. I gasp, wrapping my legs around his back, and he’s using those big hands on my waist to bounce me on his dick. He’s so thick, and he’s spreading me, stretching me; the angle is so good, it's hard to speak.

“Holy fuck,” I gasp. I can’t help it as I cry out, nearly screaming as he slams me down on his cock over and over again. He’s so strong, my arms doing little as they wrap around his neck, and he steals another kiss. It’s full of teeth, brutal and unyielding, his rough stubble hurting my skin.

“There’s nothing holy here, sweetheart.” Roman’s eyes dart to mine, a stuttering breath escaping him as he stills my body on his. “And yet you’ve brought me to my knees,” he whispers against my mouth. He kisses me hard, and I wonder if he thinks it hid his uncertainty, the slight shock which accompanied words he never meant to say.

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