?This though. . . this is different. The energy is different, the circumstances, me. Unable to admit it out loud, but deep down a part of me does want this.
?A part of me I’ve always kept in the recesses of my mind because the fantasies I’ve thought about are not what someone like me should think. Someone who was molested for the better part of her childhood and was tortured and should want to stay as far away from those dark little wants. The dark fantasies I don’t even think about with other people around because things like rape fantasies and being chased in the woods and being tied up and choked are not something someone like me should be thinking about.
?Ms. Elaycia’s one rule had always been to never judge someone else’s sexual preferences as long as it didn’t hurt either party – or at least didn’t hurt without any sexual gratification. And I have never judged. There’s even a girl at the brothel who does like being taken without permission, but she’s told me there are rules and contracts and safe words and in the end she is truly the one with all the power. I would never judge her for wanting and loving that, butme?
?Ican’t want that. I shouldn’t want that. Not with my past.
?But I am allowed to want sex. Even though I have accepted that I would never have it because I can’t be touched, I’m allowed to want that kind of pleasure.
?He arches a brow at me and continues to wait, disregarding my words. Waiting, because whether he has processed it or not, he’s no different tothem. The tie might not be known and he might not fully realize why he’s so drawn or why I’m so willing, but it’s still there.
?A fate not yet told – and yet fate is fate. This tie that will eventually be between us was written – has been written for as long as the other four.
?My body heeds before my brain. My legs spread apart, giving him a better view of my center. Already dripping with both my arousal and my blood. I’m in a shower so I’m not going to be keeping a hold of my menstrual blood since there’s water to wash it down a drain. It also lessens the cramps to not keep a hold of it. Though they currently feel muted.
?“Good,” he praises, which causes me to clench again. The fact that it’s around nothing makes my muscles tighten and a certain need begins to form. “Now, stay still.”
?Then he grabs something from outside the shower and pulls the shirt over his head. A thin looking long sleeve that sticks to his wet skin as he comes to kneel right before me. A thin long sleeve that covers his chest and shoulders as he grabs one of my calves and places it over his shoulder. Placing his fingers carefully between my scars as he does it before letting go and placing his hands against the wall under me.
?His face is so fucking close now. Close enough that he could stick his tongue out and lick me. Close enough that –
?“What are you going to do?” I whisper. My words practically drowned by the raining shower.
?Those icy eyes that are so familiar trace up my body until they lock on mine. He looks so similar and yet not. His aura thathe eased up with wraps around me like my own does. My own that I have not hidden again.
?Then he looks down directly at me. The anticipation ringing tighter than that coiled heat at my center. I obviously know, from all the context clues, what he’s going to do. But it’s still. . . it doesn’t feel real.
?One of his arms moves behind the leg draped over his shoulder until his hand is in front of my face. “Make a cut, Trouble, and then drink. I am no devil and you need to feed. While you feed, so will I.”
?My stomach dips just as a flick to my clit makes the leg holding me up shake. He does it again as he presses his hand closer to my lips and his blood which I can feel speeding in his veins smells like power.
?Taking his hand in mine, my hips jerk closer to his mouth as I take my fang and cut into his palm. Pine and death permeate the air stronger as I inhale before sticking my tongue out and licking the cut. His own tongue drags along the entirety of my slit, warm and wet and too late I realize he is not a blood sucker and just lapped up my fucking menstrual blood.
?Jerking my hips back, I dig my nails into his palm and glare at him. “I’m bleeding,” I grit, trying to pull myself away. He only chuckles as he takes his tongue for another drag and the feeling as my eyes closing and pushing my hips forward.
?Fucking hell.
?Whatever. If he wants to drink my blood like a damned vampire what the fuck do I care because that feels. . . it feels –
?My brain doesn’t process. His tongue that swirls over my clit before his lips suck. I jerk and clench around nothing and it feels so fucking good.
?Then there’s a prick that makes me jump and fling my eyes open. Dark, lust-ridden icy eyes glint with so much hunger as he softly rubs his bloody palm to my lips.
?Correcting my grip on his wrist, I wrap my lips over the wound and then suck.
?Blood that tastes like corrupted divinity. All that is righteous and holy but twisted with dark, heated sin. His blood, the soul-rendering true formed angel, tastes like sex. An aphrodisiac on its own as his lips and tongue do things to my cunt that has my lower stomach clenching in tight.
?My head hits the wall and my eyes shut to feel it all. To revel in this feeling because it feels good. My free hand threads through his hair as his tongue dips into my center and the hum that comes from his throat vibrates perfectly against me. Too soon I can feel that wave rising and about to crest and fall. With his blood sliding down my throat like a rich dessert I’m so fucking close.
?My body heating up and my muscles coiling tight as I can feel it right there. My hips jerking harsher trying to finally tip that scale and let me come. Then there’s a different kind of burning. A burning I feel begin on my stomach that makes my body flash hot and cold.
?Darian sucks on my clit one more time as my orgasm finally hits right as I realize his free hand is splayed over my stomach. While ecstasy floods my body with my pussy spasming, agony assaults and battles with the pleasure.
?Bad idea.
?This was a horrible idea.
?The burning overshadows everything so much that I stop drinking to brace my body against it. The lingering tremors below don’t matter because I can barely feel them. All there is, is pain.
