Page 62 of Demon's Bride

Setting off after my quarry, I let the lingering smell of her scent and her magick lead me through the forest. It’s slower going than I’m used to, being on foot, but I’d have this hunt last as long as possible. No quick chase today. No swooping in to carry her off before I’ve gotten my fill of her.

She’ll be expecting me to hunt her from above. With any luck, she’ll be too busy focusing her attention on the skies to notice the predator stalking her through the woods.

It doesn’t take long before I get close enough to hear her soft, careful footsteps over the moss and pine-needle covered forest floor. A few moments later and I spy her through the trees. She’s moving quickly and deftly, avoiding patches of rocky ground and ducking around branches.

Clever prey, my Allie, and all that much more satisfying to capture.

Staying tucked into the shadows beneath the trees and mirroring her moves from a ridgeline above, I let myself get close enough to hear her soft, muffled pants. Exertion and determination and fear all mingled in a way that pulses straight down to my cock.

And when a wave of her scent reaches me on a breeze, I’m lost.

I need her.

I need those panting cries beneath me, the exquisite feel of her soft body and her slick cunt. I need the taste of her blood on my tongue and her magick breaking over me when she comes.

Goddess, I’ve never needed anything more.

Even though I’d intended to take my time, the need is great enough that even the chase can wait. How long has it been since I had her? The night we met and married seems ages ago. Too long, far too long.

Drawing back a little, I descend from the ridge to follow in her tracks. Her scent is stronger at this level, and before long, I’ve nearly caught up to her.

Like she can sense I’m near, she freezes, every muscle in her body going taut and still. I can almost feel the force of her straining to hear, the tension of waiting for the predator who stalks her to strike.

Unable to suppress a grin, I move silently through the woods behind her, circling her, putting myself in position to cut off her path if she runs. And, just because I’m a bastard, I decide to play with her a little more.

I press my foot down on a fallen twig, snapping it gently. In the silence, the small snap sounds like a crack of thunder.

Allie, to her credit, startles but doesn’t cry out and give her position away. Not that it’s enough to deter me. A tendril of sweet, sharp fear reaches through the trees around me and I breathe it deep, savoring the mingled desire shot through it.

Still standing absolutely motionless, Allie has her hand clamped over her mouth, her eyes wide in surprise and fear, twin flags of rosy red on her cheeks. She looks skyward, searching for me. She’s beautiful, so achingly lovely it draws another sharp pang of desire all the way through me. I want to claim that beauty, taste it, devour it completely.

Enough. I’ve had enough of this.

Moving swiftly through the trees, I dart up behind her. She doesn’t even have a moment to scream before I’ve sunk my fangs into her neck. One hand snaps up to bracket her throat and the other bands like iron around her waist.

Mine. She’s mine. Mine to claim. Mine to keep.

Like every time I’ve tasted it, her blood sings through me like the sweetest enchantment. Floral and rich, dark and tempting, each swallow drives me a little closer to blissful insanity.

“Eren!” Allie’s cry is half-scream, half-moan as I sink even deeper.

Her body is straining, arching, twisting in a pleasure I can taste with each draw from her. Pulling away from her throat, I turn her roughly in my arms and catch her long, dark hair in my fist. Her creamy throat exposed completely, I lap at the twin tracks of blood seeping from the mark I’ve made.

“You ran, witch,” I hiss into her ear. “You knew what would happen.”

“I—I did,” she stutters in a breathless whine. “I knew, and I did it anyway.”

The little siren. Knowing just what to do to make me crazy. Knowing how to bend me, break me, control me completely.

The animal inside me growls and the sound cuts harshly through the silence of the forest, making her gasp.

“Provoking me like that deserves a punishment,” I tell her, pulling her hair even tighter. “What do you think your penance should be?”

“I… I…” She can’t finish the thought when I return to my mark, sucking and laving over it, savoring every last taste of her.

And why should I let the prey determine her punishment, anyway?

Keeping my grip on her hair, I bring a claw to the front of her tunic. It tears with ease, falling open to the fitted white camisole she’s wearing beneath. The thin cover does nothing to conceal the pink of her nipples where they strain against the fabric.

---