Page 35 of Jealous Vampire
“Be brave, my love,” he commands, but the faintest note of terror edges the words. “Let us drown you in debauchery.”
Our gazes lock again.
And the look in his crimson-gold eyes—dark, bright and utterly unhinged—tells me he means to make good on that promise.
Or perish trying.
9
DAGGER & SIGIL
ELARA
He moves his hand from my bottom to my hip.
His cock finally notches against my entrance, thick and relentless.
In his other hand, the dagger presses against the sigil, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat he’s churned inside me. I can feel the being inside me thrashing, screaming in protest, but I don’t care. I want it gone.
Want Lucien to take it, to take me, to fuck it out of existence.
His cock slams into me in one brutal thrust, stretching me, filling me so completely I see constellations.
The dagger bites into my flesh, into the sigil, the pain a white-hot brand, but it only makes me tighter, wetter, my body clenching around him as he fucks me like he owns me.
Like he’s reclaiming me.
“Lucien—yes—” I sob, my nails digging into the bedding, my body trembling on the edge of something huge, something final.
“Show yourself, coward,” he snarls.
The sigil pulses and shrieks a savage warning. But Lucien’s cock is relentless, his hips snapping against mine, his fangs dripssomething onto my skin—another first, another phenomenon it seems I’ve missed.
The stings like venom…it sinks into my skin, and then,gods, the pain morphs into aphrodisiac pleasure, making me wetter.
With lighting fast movements, he makes cuts with the dagger all over my back and thighs, then he braces it in the arch of my back so he can grip my hips with both hands.
Then with superhuman speed, my love fucks me blind and deaf and dumb. All while bleed for him.
And it’s the most sublime, pagan and savage deed that draws shrieks from me until my voice is hoarse.
Until I lose count of how many times I come on his cock, only that I’m wrecked inside and out, my throat raw as I scream for more. “Harder, Lucien! Please fuck me harder!”
His answer is a growl, low and feral, as he slams into me with enough force to make the bed groan beneath us.
The cords still binding me bite into my skin, holding me open, offering me up to him like a sacrifice.
And God, I’m willing, desperate, my pussy drenched around his cock, my body singing with every brutal thrust. The candles flicker wildly, their shadows stretching across the walls like grasping fingers, as if the very room is alive with the energy crackling between us.
Lucien’s breath is hot against my neck, his lips parted, fangs glinting in the dim light. I can feel him teetering on the edge, his control fraying, and it sends a thrill through me so sharp it borders on pain.
“Do it!” I can barely recognize my own manic voice.
His fangs sink into my throat.
I try to scream, but it comes out a broken moan as his fangs pierce my skin, his mouth sealing over the wound. The first pull of my blood into his throat sends a shock through me so fierce it blurs the edges of the world.
My back bows, nails raking down his arms as they band my waist, holding me tight against him. He doesn’t flinch, only drinks deep and hungry, his tongue swirling over the punctures to coax more from me as he groans with pleasure and triumph and satisfaction.
