Page 219 of The Poison Daughter
I shouldn’t. I already took a good bit of blood.
But she smells so good, and just because I bite doesn’t mean I have to drink. I suck her right nipple into my mouth, flicking it with my tongue. She gasps, her fingernails digging into my shoulder in encouragement. I wait for her to move again, and as she sinks down, I bite her nipple. Her pussy squeezes my cock, and we both groan.
The gentle teasing is over. The first drop of her blood, combined with the pulsing of her so slick and tight around me, has ruined all of my composure. I lift her hips and force her back down, trying to increase the pace, but the water is slowing us down too much.
“Go get in our bed. On your back.”
She whines as she lifts off of me and climbs out of the tub. As she stumbles toward our room, I admire the marks I’ve left behind on her pale skin.
Watching her crawl onto the bed, lie back, and spread her legs for me is a vision that will be burned in my brain forever. I’m still shocked she let me claim her.
I prowl over her and push into her slowly.
As much as I enjoyed making her submit to me, this is better. The anger in her eyes and the furious way she lifts her hips to meet my thrusts is making me crazy. I want to swallow all her wild rage.
She is trying to exorcise this wanting in the same way I am. I’ve never had this kind of intimacy—a battle of wills instead of simply mastering a partner’s pleasure.
Harlow scratches her nails down my back, and I bite her neck. Her pussy clamps around me so tightly, I almost lose it. It’s only the sting of the cuts on my back and her soft groan of my name that ground me.
“I hate you.”
I chuckle and pull out of her. “You’re about to hate me more.”
I lick and nip my way down her stomach and spread her thighs wide, sliding three fingers into her slickness and brushing a kiss to her clit. I pump my fingers in and out, picking up speed as her body starts to tense.
Right as I feel the tension about to break, I sink my fangs into her left inner thigh, and she screams. Her back arches and her heels dig into my back as she spasms around my fingers. I take long pulls of her blood, relishing the sweet taste of her pleasure mixed with bitter anger as she trembles her way through her orgasm.
I gently draw my fingers free as she relaxes into the bed, and I kiss the bite on her thigh to heal it.
“I knew you would like that.”
She fists her hand in my hair, forcing me to look up at her. “You said it’s just the venom. Don’t read into it.”
I chuckle as I rise to my knees, hook her calves over my elbows, and lift her hips as I drive into her. She’s immediately quivering, still oversensitive from all the stimulation, so swollen that I am seconds from losing it and rutting into her like an animal.
My grip on her waist is bruising as I find a fast, steady rhythm, but Harlow takes it all. I look down at her perfect tits and the flush creeping up her neck, blood still seeping from the bite there.
Her hands fist in the sheets, and she cries out, a guttural, needy sound that sends me over the edge. The climax is a jolt of electricity through my blood. I pump into her harder as I ride it out, until her legs are trembling so badly I lose my grip and collapse on top of her.
For a moment, I’m too wrecked by pleasure to move. As my senses return, I smell her blood. The bite on her neck is still seeping. I lick the wound and heal it, savoring what I’m sure will be the last taste of her I’ll have for a while, if ever.
I wish it weren’t so good. All the blood I’ve consumed during hunts tastes better, but it’s true what all the other Returned have said: it really doesn’t compare to claiming someone.
Flopping onto my back, beside Harlow, I lick my lips, trying to get any last hint of blood remaining. She rolls onto her stomach and pulls the blankets up around her.
“Are you well?” I ask.
She doesn’t answer. Her breathing is soft and steady.
For the first time, Harlow falls asleep in my bed of her own volition. I let the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing lull me to sleep.
When I wake sometime later, the bed is cold beside me. I jump up and stalk through the closet into her room. She’s tucked under the coverswith Kyrin snuggled up beside her. He lifts his head and rests it on her stomach, as if to remind me that while he is always welcome in her bed, I am not.
I may have claimed her body, but I have no chance of claiming her heart.
51
HENRY
