Page 26 of Demon's Bride

Still keeping up his punishing pace, Eren leans in close to my neck for a moment before pulling back roughly and letting out a frustrated growl.

“What is it?” I ask, worried I’ve done something taboo, broken some rule I wasn’t even aware of.

He squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a long, shuddering breath. The heavy rhythmic thrust of his cock stills, and I can feel the waves of tension rolling off my demon.

“My instincts… are telling me to bite you.”

I can’t help it, I shiver.

Those fangs.

It’s a sinister little thrill to run my tongue over them when we kiss, a stark reminder that my lover is anything but human. The thought of him taking those same fangs and sinking them into me…

“Does it hurt?” I ask.

Eren looks at me like his soul has left his body. “It causes a sensation of pleasure. An almost overwhelming pleasure.”

“Oh.”

With that one syllable, every single inch of him goes still, waiting to see what I decide to say next.

And what will I say? In for a penny, in for a damn pound, I guess.

“I think that’s alright, then.”

Eren’s eyes are liquid fire. “Little witch.”

His words are a warning, one I have no intention to heed.

I want this. I want every bit of my demon. The tender, the rough, the hungry. I want him.

“Trust your instincts, Eren,” I tell him, echoing his earlier words.

His fangs elongate before my eyes, and it surprises me so much that I draw in a sharp breath. My core clenches in fear and exhilaration, and Eren groans.

“Allison Ashblood,” he says, equal parts graveled reverence and sin. “You’ll kill me yet.”

With that, he strikes.

Chapter 12

Eren

Allie’s blood blooms across my tongue like a rich, red vintage, bottled up twenty-six years just waiting for me.

It’s somehow all of her, and more. Cloves and roses, parchment and petrichor. A dark stirring of desire and the gentlest thread of the sweet fear she’s trusted me enough to let me cradle in my hands.

I draw deep from her, thrust into her tight cunt, and pleasure grips the bottom of my spine like a fist. There’s nothing more I want than to stretch out this first time together, make it last for hours, days, the rest of our lives, but biting her was a bridge too far.

We both lose ourselves to the pure pleasure of it. Allie is a wildcat beneath me, clawing, biting, as ravenous for me as I am for her, and when she tightens and shakes with her climax, I’m lost. I spill into her, pressing as deep as I can without forcing my knot in her.

Every nerve, every muscle, every last atom of my being comes apart at its most fundamental level before rearranging into something new, something better.

Something that’s hers, and hers alone.

When I come up for air, I’m reborn.

Finally becoming conscious of my heavy weight on her smaller frame, I move to pull out and shift off her. Allie, though, has other ideas.

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