Page 47 of Driven By Dragonblood
“Need me to fill up your belly with my seed?” I asked, gagging him with every forward jolt of my hips.
He whimpered, slobber dripping off his chin, eyes feral.
“Relax,” I heard myself coo, easing my hold on his hair and caressing his hollowed cheeks with my thumbs. “Relax your throat, so I can fuck it deeper. Swallow around my shaft, and I’ll give you what you hunger for.”
Whatever instinctive fight had him tensed, drained at my command.
My chest swelled, and I hissed while slowly sinking in until his nose pressed against my groin.
“Jesus—fucking hell, your mouth is perfect.”
Give.
My balls erupted, and I held Jaxon tight against me as spurt after spurt of my cum shot into his throat.
Jaxon swallowed, clenching against my pulsing dick, pulling more from my balls than humanly possible.
Heat rushed through me, burning like lava, seeming to sear away my skin. I gasped for breath, muscles bunching, twitching with otherworldly pulses ripping seed from my sac. Head tipped toward the ceiling, groaning, I gave him every drop, body convulsing long after I finished feeding him.
“Goddamn,” I muttered, blinking my eyelids open as Jaxon fell back to rest against the wall, gasping for breath as harshly as I did. A wet spot covered the front of his jeans.
Satisfaction and a sense of completeness rolled over me, and I caressed his swollen lips while he peered up at me like a bright-eyed child who’d just tasted their first lollipop?—
An audible intake of breath rushed oxygen to my lungs as I thought of the man I had hero-worshiped for many years.
My gut tightened.
“Fuck.” I stumbled backward. Face hot and body trembling, I stared at the boy who was much too young for me, slumped on his knees, his face a mess of saliva and cum.
Wrecked.
Beautiful.
Mine.
I shoved my dick and balls in my sweats and turned away, shaking my head and fighting the voice slithering atop the walls Jaxon had brought tumbling to the ground. Teeth clenched, hands fisted at my sides, I closed my eyes and visualized rebuilding the fortress that had kept me safe.
Sane.
I was in control.
Iamin control, I told myself on repeat.
The groan inside me grew to a roar as I fought against it, but it evaporated as the final block of the prison slammed into place, shutting whatever it was off entirely. Clutchingmy chest, I bent forward, desperate for oxygen against the knife-stabbing agony behind my breastbone.
“Doc.”
I didn’t turn. Couldn’t. “I’m sorry, Jaxon, but you can’t stay here tonight—you need to leave,” I rasped, my tone nothing but pain and desperation. “Now.” Without a backward glance, I staggered out of the living room and up the stairs, desperate to escape the energy attempting to lure me into weakness.
The connection between me and that boy remained, potent and tempting as hell.
My feet itched to run back downstairs, claim Jaxon’s mouth—and the rest of his body as my own as the voice had suggested. Doctor Sorino had given in to his lust and paid the price, and it would be best to remember the outcome of his bowing to temptation.
“I am in control,” I whispered what I needed to be true, leaning against my closed bedroom door, ears straining for the sounds of Jaxon letting himself out, giving me the distance I needed.
The door slammed shut seconds later.
Sagging onto the floor, head in hands, I warred with myself over being pleased he’d obeyed and pissed he hadn’t fought to stay. The tether of whatever the fuck it was linking us together slowly faded, leaving behind an ache in my soul I didn’t understand—and hated.
