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Spending time wishing for things to be different than how they are is wasteful.
I tilt my head to the side, encouraging him. “I suppose we shouldn’t waste any time.”
“Mmm.” He nips my neck, nowhere near hard enough to draw blood, and rocks me against his length again. “Take my cock out.”
“So bossy,” I murmur. I shift back just enough I can reach between us to do as he commands. He fills my palm and then some, his size massive and familiar. I stroke him. “Hurry.”
Malachi ignores me. He grabs a fistful of his shirt that I’m wearing and winds it at the base of my spine, lifting the hem until I’m bared from the waist down. The growl he makes has me whimpering. “So fucking perfect.” It almost sounds like he’s speaking to himself, rather than to me. He palms my pussy, pushing two blunt fingers into me. He’s fingered me more times than I can count in the last month, but it feels particularly possessive in this moment. As if he’s reclaiming something he thought he might lose.
Something he refuses to lose.
“Did it feel good fucking Rylan, little dhampir?”
“Yes,” I gasp. I try to rock my hips to take his fingers deeper, but his hold on the shirt keeps me hovering above him.
He idly fucks me, watching his large fingers slide in and out of my pussy. “He partially changed.”
It’s not a question, but I still feel compelled to answer. “Yes.” I clutch at Malachi’s shoulders. My thighs are shaking and he’s just getting started.
His eyes go a pure, true black and he licks his lips. “Did his cock get bigger inside you?” He wedges a third finger into me. “Did he stretch you until it almost hurt?”
I claw at his shoulders, but I’m not going anywhere until he allows me to. “Yes,” I sob out. “It felt amazing.”
“I know,” he says it so softly, I know he’s not speaking to me. Just like I know that he and Rylan haven’t rekindled some semblance of their former relationship the same way he and Wolf have. They might fuck each other nearly as often as the fuck me, but Rylan holds himself apart.
It strikes me that the flicker of jealousy in Malachi’s dark eyes isn’t directly solely at Rylan for fucking me. It’s also at me for fucking Rylan.
I release his shoulders and place my hands on my hips. “He grabbed me here. His claws sank into me.” There are still little divots in my skin, a reminder that all the blood I consumed went to keeping me alive instead of healing the smaller wounds completely.
“He held you in place while he fucked you.” Malachi presses his fingers deeper and then twists his wrist, feeling for my G-spot.
“Yes.” This time, when I rock my hips, he lets me ride his fingers. My voice goes a little rough. “He threw me on the bed and held me down.”
Malachi exhales slowly. “You liked it.”
“I loved it.” The truth. I don’t know why I love the rough fucking, the near-violent consumption of lust. In the end, knowing why doesn’t matter. I love it, and that’s good enough reason to do it.
He pulls his fingers out of me, but I don’t have a chance to protest because he twists, taking us to the couch with him on top of me. Malachi doesn’t give me time to adjust. He spreads my thighs wide and starts working his cock into me. Heat dances on my skin, but no flames appear. He hasn’t lost control of his Bloodline power since we left his house. I’m grateful for that fact; I love knowing I affect him deeply, but I don’t relish the thought of having to flee yet another room because Malachi burned the hell out of it in the middle of sex.
“I like seeing his marks on you, little dhampir.” His gaze lands on my throat again. I haven’t looked in the mirror since I woke up, but if the pinpricks on my hips from Rylan’s claws are still there, then no doubt I still bear a mark from his teeth. Malachi shoves all the way into me and braces himself on his elbows on either side of my body. He’s pinning me in place, but saving me from the majority of his weight.
He runs his nose over my throat. “I love smelling him on your skin.” His tongue darts out to taste me. “This is how it should be. All three of us.”
Pleasure courses through me, but my mind trips over what he just said. “You can smell him on me?” I shift, but Malachi isn’t letting me move. “I took a shower.”
“I know.” He kisses my neck. “I think it’s the bond. Or because we’re all Bloodline vampires. Doesn’t matter why.” Each sentence is punctuated by a slow thrust. “We can scent each other on you. It makes me crazed.”
