Page 43 of Cursebound
“Please what?” He removes his finger from inside me. “What is it you want?”
“I want you to eat me out, Luca… I want you to lick me and kiss me and make me come.”
He inhales, relishing the scent of my need, and runs his tongue slowly and firmly along the crease of my core. My body starts to shake, but he holds my hips steady with his hands.
His tongue moves lazily in and out of me, a delicious intrusion, before he starts to lap at me. Steady, consistent, up and down over my clit, backward and forward and on and on and on, driving me wild. He knows exactly what rhythm to use, exactly what pressure I need. The sensations build up inside me, like a river crashing into a dam, and I am so fucking close to coming apart. He increases the speed, amplifies the intensity, and just as my orgasm starts to tear through me, he slides two fingers into my wet heat.
He’s licking me on the outside and filling me on the inside, and all I can feel in the whole damn world is him—his touch, his tongue, his fingers. As the waves crash through my body, he sucks my clit into his mouth and holds it there, and all the pleasure melds with a luscious edge of pain as I explode. I shudder against his face, around his fingers, and scream his name, my whole body bucking under the onslaught of ecstasy.
Still he holds me, his face buried between my legs, his fingers deep inside me. Only when the final spasms of bliss have jerked their way through my body does he look up.
I see his eyes through the haze of my comedown, red now mingled with the silver. Delicious fear grips me, and my amulet flares hot. He is both hungry and turned on. I am prey as well as recreation.
“Bite me,” I say. “You’re hungry, and I’m food. Bite me.”
He battles between need and doubt, and I hook one still-trembling leg over his shoulder and say simply, “I trust you.”
Hissing, he hefts my leg higher, exposing my inner thigh to his touch, and strokes me gently.
“No.” I jerk back when he gets close to my pussy. “Don’t. I can’t come again this soon… Ohhh, god!”
As he sinks his fangs into the flesh of my thigh and starts to suck, he slips one finger inside me and rubs his thumb over my wet, swollen bud. The sucking builds, and so does the rubbing, mouth and fingers in perfect sync. Everything throbs at the same time, turning me into a pulsating mass of pleasure. My body beats in time with his sucking, with his touch. The orgasm hurtles toward me with impossible speed until… Fuck! I explode again, so aroused that I squirt juices on him.
I go limp while his mouth is still on me and look down to find his hand around his cock, squeezing up and down. His movements are fast and jerky, and he shudders. His hot seed splashes against me, my name a low snarl. When he’s done, he seals the wound and sits back on his haunches.
He looks spent but triumphant. Our eyes meet, and he gives me a crooked smile.
“Untie me,” I whisper. “Please.”
After staggering around to the back of the bed, he pulls the strained loops of fabric loose and collapses at my side, then rolls me into his arms and drops kisses on my hair.
“I think,” I say slowly, inhaling the scent of him, “that we might have made a mess.”
“Blood and cum. The stuff of life. So, we’ll leave a tip for housekeeping.”
I smile, his heart beating against my cheek. His pulse is usually so slow it’s barely noticeable, but this moment is far from usual. This moment is a place I’ve never visited.
“That was… something else,” I admit. “You’ve clearly been practicing. How many women do you think you’ve fucked? And is it always like this?” The question floods me with violent jealousy. Which is so stupid. There will have been hundreds, if not thousands. It’s not like either of us was a blushing virgin when we met—yet I somehow feel like every time Luca makes me come is the first time it’s ever happened to me.
“A few, bella, a few. And no, it is not always like this. You… The taste of you, the smell of you… No, never like this. And I won’t be fucking anyone but you now, I promise.”
“Good. Because just so you know, if you did, I’d have to stake you.” The way I feel right now, I don’t think I’m joking.
“I would expect nothing less, my vicious little malocchio. Rest assured that any man who so much as looks at you will receive similar treatment.”
I’ve always hated possessive men. Jealous types. The ones who were so intrigued by my apparent lack of interest in them after sex that they became obsessed. The ones who tried to control me. Yet here I am, wrapped up in this alpha predator who was born when women were literally property, and I’m loving every second of it.
“And of these few women… Did any of them matter?” I ask. “Were any of them more than sex and a snack?”
He falls silent. Have I gone too far? Pushed for a level of intimacy that he isn’t ready for? Maybe he’s more comfortable using his mouth on my pussy than using it to talk about himself.
“There was one,” he replies eventually, his calm voice belying the tension in his body.
I dust his dragon wings with a kiss. “What happened?”
“She died. Badly. I have never forgiven myself, cara mia. I think you know how that feels, no?”
Suddenly cold, I drag the covers over us and burrow into his arms. “I do. You know I do. But like you said to me earlier, is that what she would have wanted?”
