Page 40 of Bloodstained
“You feel me, don’t you?” I murmured, dragging my palm down her stomach until I cupped her between her legs. Even through her clothing, I felt how hot it was. “How hungry I am for you… my dark need.”
Her legs parted instantly, hips tilting up to meet my hand. I moved between her thighs, positioning so I could really press my mouth to the hollow of her throat and wrap my hand right up around her perfect pussy.
I smiled against her skin, kissed down her throat, and across the valley between her breasts. She tasted like lukewarm sugar. Each kiss left her trembling more, her body surrendering inch by inch until she was sprawled flat on the blanket with me hovering over her.
By the time I reached her stomach, I was already half mad. I pushed her sweater up, letting my lips graze her navel. It was cold outside, but we created our own heat. “I can smell it, baby.” I buried my face between her cotton-covered lips and slit. Even through two layers of clothing, I smelled it was her time of the month.
Her hips lifted again, silent permission. I worked her pants and panties off and leaned back, admiring the view. My hunger rose, not just to fuck her but for her blood, too… any way I could have it.
My fangs ached. My cock throbbed, and hunger roared through me so loud it drowned out everything else.
Her hand fisted in my hair, holding me with her, grounding me. “Are you sure?” I knew what she was asking.
We’d never done this… never fed this way.
“Oh, I’m fucking sure.” My teeth scraped the inside of her thigh, making her gasp. “You make me feral. You’re essential to every single part of me.”
I placed my hands on her inner thighs and pushed them further apart. Then, while holding her gaze with mine, I lowered my mouth to the sweet, feminine spot between her thighs.
I dragged my tongue over her clit, soft enough to make her body jolt. Then I gave her a long, deliberate lick up her slit, the taste of sweet copper detonating across my tongue. Her blood rushed across my tongue, and a guttural sound ripped from my chest.
I locked both hands around her hips and held her there as I feasted. Long, slow strokes of my tongue, circling her clit until she squirmed and moaned for me, then dipping down again to gather every drop of red wetness that slipped from her pussy hole.
She moaned, back arching, voice echoing into the night. “Yes,” she hissed. “Oh God,yes…”
I slid two fingers inside her, curling them deep, finding that spot that made her unravel. She cried out, breaking apart already, sobbing my name as her cunt clenched around me. The messy sound of her blood and arousal dripping down my hand only drove me further.
“Don’t stop,” she half cried, half moaned.
And I didn’t. My tongue lashed her clit while my fingers fucked her thoroughly, obscene wet sounds filling the garden. She shook, thighs trembling, her voice rising until it was nearly a scream.
“Give it to me,” I rasped, pulling my fingers free and buried my mouth against her pussy hole and sucked long and deep until she shattered.
Her cry of pleasure echoed off ivy and stone, raw and wild. Her climax tore through her, walls clutching at my tongue, drawing me deeper in. Her orgasm caused a rush of blood to flood my mouth. I drank greedily, swallowing every drop.
Her nails carved deep into my scalp as she kept my face pressed to her wetness, her body twisting, her hips lifting to rub herself harder against my mouth. I continued to drink deep, her flavor unlike anything I’d ever tasted, and I was drunk on it, needing more.
I forced myself to pull away from her and looked at her face, feeling her blood dripping down my lips and chin. I smeared her essence across my lower lip before licking my fingers.
Unable to help myself, I dragged my saliva-slick fingers through her bloody slit again, smearing the sweet crimson across her breasts, circling each nipple until they hardened.
I snarled and bared my fangs. “Do you want me to fuck you or make love to you? There’s a difference.”
“Fuck me,” she begged.
I felt the beast rise in me, that dark and passionate creature, as I notched my cockhead at her entrance and thrust deep in one brutal stroke. She cried out, clinging to me, pussy gripping my cock so hard I groaned against her mouth. Blood and arousal slicked my cock as I pounded in and out of her, wet slaps echoing off the stone walls.
“You’re mine,” I snarled, one hand wrapping around her throat loosely, forcing her to meet my gaze, and my other hand curling around her hip, nails elongating to claws.
Her climax ripped through her again, walls contracting and relaxing around my length. She milked me until I lost it. I growled against her mouth, driving deep, spilling inside of her, cum and blood mixing, dripping from where we were connected.
When our pleasure receded and she relaxed against the blanket, I stayed buried, grinding myself against her lazily, refusing to let her go. Her nails dug into my biceps, holding me close.
I pressed my forehead to hers, panting with her, our bodies still trembling in the aftermath. “You’re everything to me,” I rasped.
Her lips curved faintly, her voice soft but unwavering. “And you are the same to me.”
I kissed her with all the passion and heart I had, copper still sharp on our tongues, before gathering her close against me. When the night air grew too cold, I carried her inside, ran her a hot bath, and slid in behind her. Cradling her to my chest, I washed her clean and held her as if the world beyond us didn’t exist.
