Page 76 of Taste of Blood
He pulls back and sucks in a breath. “You’re crazy.”
“About you.”
We’ve reached the door to my room, and I turn us around and guide him toward the bed while sliding one hand down to unbutton his jeans. He slips his hands into the waistband of my sweats and pushes them down. I kick them aside and keep advancing us toward the bed.
When his legs hit the mattress, I push him back then reach down to pull off his boots, followed by his jeans, before ripping off my shirt. He does the same with his own shirt then leans back on his elbows and offers me that slow lazy grin that drives me nuts.
I never get tired of his body. With the scars and tattoos defining lean muscle, he’s a work of art. His eyes widen, the irises blown to black as he watches me.
“What are you doing?” he asks as I reach for the drawer to the bedside table.
I pull out a length of rope and uncoil it, running it through my fingers.
“Ash, we don’t have time for this.”
“Oh, I think we do. I think you need it as much as I do.”
And god knows I need it. I need to have him at my mercy. To watch him squirm.
To hear him beg.
To see him bleed.
I crawl up on the bed and grab his wrists, lashing them together. He tries to fight me at first, but then I rub my straining cock against his and he whimpers in compliance.
He lets me position him on the bed so I can fasten his bound wrists to the metal headboard. Then I stand back and look him over, stalking around the bed to take him in.
He’s magnificent lying there, his chest heaving, his weeping cock standing at attention. I have all I can do not to jump him right now, but I want to savor this. It’s been so long since I’ve had him like this.
He strains against the rope, whether it’s to test my knots or provide theater doesn’t matter. I’d tie his ankles but I want access to his sweet ass.
I crawl up the bottom of the bed, over his body, positioning my bent legs on either side of his chest, my cock resting heavy onhis neck, leaving a trail of precum glistening on his skin. I wrap my hand around it and rise up on my knees, guiding it to his mouth.
“Open wide.”
His lips part and I shove inside, all the way to the back. He gags and I don’t give him a chance to regroup, keeping up the pressure, feeling his throat closing on my head.
The feel of his hot mouth around my cock is almost enough to make me come on the spot, but I suck in a deep breath and get myself under control. It wouldn’t do to blow it all before I even get started.
I lean forward, my head pressed against the headboard, my hands on either side of his head, holding him in place. He struggles, his widened eyes tearing up, his mouth leaking drool as I begin to ease in and out of his throat. My pace is slow and deliberate at first, but soon I pick it up, pounding his throat. Reveling in his struggle to keep up with the punishing rhythm.
“That’s it,” I encourage. “You look so good choking on my cock.”
The thing about vamps; we can survive a long time without oxygen. I test that theory as I keep up the pressure, fucking his mouth so deep he doesn’t have the chance to breathe.
And he takes it. Hell, thrives on it. I can see by the way his eyes are shining through the tears. This is something we both need.
I fuck his mouth until I feel myself getting close, then pull out and crouch over his body, my cock falling heavy against his. I grab both and slide my hand over the slickened heads, using his precum to lubricate my movements as I pump us both together.
He squirms beneath me, straining for more, and I oblige him, bringing us both to the brink before backing off again.
“Don’t stop.”
I chuckle as I dip my head to capture his lips in a bruising kiss, our mouths colliding, my tongue wrapping around his, tasting myself. I pull away, leaving him breathless, and trail my tongue down his chin to his neck. His back arches to meet me as I bite down, drawing his blood. Filling my mouth then letting it drip from my lips to paint his neck.
I move lower and close my mouth around his nipple then bite down again. Leaving another red stain.
“Ash.”
