She's so wet, so ready for me, her body welcoming me like I was made for her alone. Her cry is a mix of pain and pleasure, a sound of pure, unbridled sensation that echoes through the forest.
I set a punishing pace, each thrust a declaration of ownership. My knot begins to swell, stretching her, filling her completely. The crown of bones shifts on her head with the force of my movements, the teeth clicking together in a percussive rhythm that drives me wild.
“Mine,” I growl, my teeth sinking into the sensitive flesh where her shoulder meets her neck.
I don't break the skin, not yet. Just leave the impression of my mark, a promise of what's to come.
“All mine.”
Mine.
Mine.
Mine!
The metallic tang of blood fills the air as I finally bite through, just a little, just enough to taste. It's a coppery sweetness on my tongue, the essence of her, the proof of my possession.
Her body convulses around me, her inner muscles clenching as her orgasm rips through her. The feeling of her coming undone beneath me, the taste of her blood on my lips, the tight grip of her slick heat around my knot—it's too much.
With a final, powerful thrust, my knot locks into place, binding us together. My release is explosive, a torrent of heat that floods her, marking her from the inside out. I collapse against her, my body covering hers, my weight a comforting pressure that anchors us both in this moment of pure, unfiltered reality.
For a long time, we lie there, tangled together, our breathing gradually returning to normal. The forest is silent except for the crackling of nearby foliage and the distant call of a night bird.
I raise my head to look at her. Her face is flushed, her lips swollen from my kisses, her eyes dark with satisfaction. The crown of teeth and bones sits slightly askew on her head, a testament to our ferocious coupling.
“Mine,” I say again, softer this time, a statement of fact rather than a demand.
“Yours,” she agrees, her voice a sleepy murmur.
I smile, a genuine one that feels foreign on my lips.
In this moment, with my knot still buried deep inside her, her scent mingling with mine, the taste of her blood still on my tongue, everything is exactly as it should be.
But the night isn’t over. My knot holds us fast, a physical manifestation of the bond between us, and I have no intention of letting this moment end.
I shift slightly and adjust my weight to relieve some of the pressure on her smaller frame, but I don't withdraw. Not yet. I want to stay buried inside her for as long as possible, to feel her body wrapped around mine, to be surrounded by her scent.
“Does it hurt?” I ask, my voice softer now, the harsh edge replaced by something that feels dangerously close to tenderness.
She shakes her head. A small smile dances on her lips. “No. It feels…right.”
“Right,” I repeat, the word tasting strange on my tongue.
Right is not a word I'm accustomed to associating with myself. But with her, like this, it feels…accurate.
I reach for the knife again, and her eyes widen slightly, a flicker of apprehension in their depths.
“Relax,” I murmur, stroking her cheek with my thumb. “I'm not going to hurt you. Not much.”
I flip the knife over and offer her the handle. “Your turn.”
She looks at me, confused. “My turn?”
“I want you to mark me,” I explain. “I want to carry your mark, just as you carry mine. I want to bleed for you, Brylee.”
Her hand trembles as she takes the knife, her fingers closing around the hilt. She's hesitant at first, unsure of herself, but then she seems to find her resolve. She presses the tip against my chest, right over my heart. The pain is sharp, exquisite, a perfect counterpoint to the pleasure still thrumming through my veins.
She draws a small, simple line, just enough to break the skin. A single bead of blood wells up, dark and vivid against my flesh. I watch, mesmerized, as she leans forward, her tongue darting out to taste me. The sensation is electric, a jolt of pure, unencumbered pleasure that shoots straight to my groin, causing my already-swollen knot to pulse inside her.
