The blood weave surges again, thick and alive, pulsing with that mind of its own that will do whatever it deems necessary to bring us together. Its power is impossible to ignore, and neither of us can escape it. The pull is intoxicating, overwhelming. Irresistible.
It winds its way around us, in our veins, through our skin, a reminder of everything we’ve done and everything we’re about to do.
Zara’s breath hitches as the weight of it hits her, and I feel the dark desire clawing at the edges of her control. I step closer, the heat between us sparking like fire, igniting the thread of magic that binds us.
“You don’t have to do anything,” I murmur, my voice low and rough with need. “Just lie back and take it like a good girl.”
Her lips part, a tremor running through her, and I know she wants this too. The blood weave is binding us together, changing us into something darker, something we’ll never outrun. She almost pouts and I want to bite her until she screams and lets me force my tongue into her mouth.
Zara backs up and I close the distance, stalking toward her with only one intention. My cock turns rock hard and Zara’s eyes flash with excitement as they flick between my erection, my eyes, and the scene of devastation. She’s spinning as her eyes dart around, looking increasingly startled and more like a fucking deer caught in the headlights with every goddamn second.
I’ve never wanted to fuck the shit out of her more.
My dick jerks and I bite back my arousal, already on the brink of a climax. There’s not a fucking chance I’m coming in my goddamn trousers, especially not when the witch who commands my attention hasn’t even touched me. And certainly not before she has screamed my name and lost her mind in the pleasure I’ve givenher.
“The blood…”
Zara shudders as her back hits the table behind her. Her fingers whiten as they grip the stone top and her eyes widen as she stares at me, half-pleading with me for mercy while begging me to fuck her into oblivion.
“Kitten,” I growl. “Get on the fucking table and let me worship you like the Goddess that you are.”
Her cheeks flush and her chest heaves, and the girl I’m forever bound to has my undivided attention. She almost looks innocent with her pretty pink tinge, the slight color on her lips, and the wide-eyed stare she sends me as the emerald in her irises dazzle.
“I’m waiting, Zara.” My fingers curl into fists as I try to contain myself. “I won’t wait much longer.”
“Your brother,” she whimpers, her voice trembling as she lifts herself onto the edge of the table, her ass perched precariously. “We shouldn’t…”
The tsk I issue cuts her off, sharp and final, and we both turn our heads to the mangled heart lying in its pool of congealing blood. Its chambers are still now, silent and lifeless, and whatever soul it contained vanished when I tore it from Galen’s chest. That organ is nothing but a symbol now, a remnant of what was and will never be again. Galen’s death wasn’t just an ending, it was a beginning. One that binds us tighter than ever and it’s fitting that we fuck next to his battered corpse.
“We shouldn’t,” Zara repeats, but there’s no conviction in her voice.
“It’s too late for shoulds,” I say, stepping closer.
The blood weave pulses and I want its darkness to consume us.
“You want this as much as I do. Now be a fucking good whore and spread your legs so I can worship you like the fucking Goddess you are.”
She quivers. She fucking quivers. And then she nods, frantically, and Zara can’t get enough and is desperate for me to giveher whatever I’m offering.
“Please,” she whispers.
I swear I almost come.
Her legs fall open and she lowers herself down, her back arching as she positions herself the way I like her. Her tits look fucking glorious when they’re splayed beneath me and I step into the space between her legs, running my hand up her center. She trembles and my cock judders with her, and in a moment my exhaustion vanishes and I rip the remnants of her clothes from her body.
Zara shrieks and I love it. I want more of her cries and her moans, her mews, and her fucking screams. I want her calling my name in exaltation until her throat turns hoarse and then I might quench the fire in it with my come.
My dick’s leaking all over the fucking place and I don’t give a shit. All I want is her. All I need is her. Gods, I need this woman more than I need to fill my lungs with oxygen and she’s the drug that’ll keep me high until I die. I crave the taste of her, the sight of her, the sound and smell of her, and I want her to be mine. She is and every goddamn instinct in me tells me that she knows and wants me too.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I rasp.
Zara giggles and a pulse of pleasure shoots through me. My chest warms and my heart beats harder, determined to make her happy. To please her, as she pleases me.
I’m a sadist, always taking pleasure from the pain of others, enjoying myself more while they suffer. Their screams of pain are music to my ears and I revel in their agony, getting higher and higher as they sink into despair. But Zara makes me want something else. Something different. Something new.
Fuck me, I want to please her.
I want the girl who’s staring up at me like I’m her fucking world to scream and writhe in ecstasy and I’m going to turn her into a hot, sweaty, sticky mess who’s fucking destroyed. I want her devastated by the orgasms I’ve given her. I want her dazed and confused. I want her to be a hot mess of my making and then, andonly then, will I come in her cunt.
