“Now?” he whispers against my ear.
“Please,” I breathe, loud enough for our audience to hear. “I need it.”
He bites.
The pain explodes through my throat, but this time I don't just accept it—I surrender to it completely. A moan tears from my lips, raw and shameless, the sound of a woman getting exactly what she craves. I arch back against him, pressing my ass against his erection, grinding against him while he feeds.
“Fuck,” I gasp as he drinks deeper. “Yes.”
The feeding creates sensation where our bodies touch. My panties grow wet until I know everyone in the Orchard can smell my arousal. The silk dress clings to my sweat-dampened skin as I writhe against him.
Through the connection, I feel his desperation, his need, his overwhelming hunger finally being satisfied. But more than that—I feel his arousal, his cock throbbing as I move against him, his barely contained desire to throw me down and claim me properly.
“More,” I demand, my voice rough with need. “Take more.”
One of Jesseth's guards makes a strangled sound. I force my eyes open, meeting Jesseth's burning gaze while Kiakoa's teeth work at my throat. The elderly lord's pupils are blown wide, his breathing shallow as he watches me get off on being fed from.
“You see?” I manage between gasps, speaking directly to him while pleasure builds through my system. “Not a victim. A partner.”
Kiakoa growls against my throat, the vibration going straight to my soaking pussy. His arm tightens around my waist, a solid anchor as I shake with need. The hand at my hip slides lower, pressing the silk against my thigh, making the wet spot between my legs more obvious.
I'm going to come. Right here, in front of four strangers, from being bitten and bled. The realization pushes me higher, makes me buck against Kiakoa's restraining arm.
“Please,” I beg, not caring who hears. “Please don't stop.”
He drinks deeper, pulling not just blood but essence, everything that makes me hurt inside. The bone-deep weariness, the years of chilling numbness, the hollow ache in my soul—it all drains away, replaced by perfect empty pleasure that builds and builds until I can't contain it.
I come with a cry that echoes through the Orchard, my body convulsing in his arms as orgasm takes me. My cunt clenches around nothing, desperate for something to fill the emptiness, while aftershocks make my legs shake.
Kiakoa holds me through it, his mouth still working at my throat, drawing out every drop of sensation until I'm boneless and gasping. When he finally pulls back, I can barely stand.
The wounds seal immediately, but I'm left marked in other ways. My dress is disheveled, clinging damply to my overheated skin. My hair has come loose from its carefularrangement. There's no hiding what just happened, what I just did in front of witnesses.
“Impressive,” Jesseth says, his voice rougher than before. One of his guards is openly adjusting himself, trying to hide his reaction to the display.
Kiakoa's arm tightens around me possessively. “She is mine,” he says, the words a growling declaration that makes my still-sensitive body clench with renewed want.
“And if this is true, you would be hers,” Jesseth observes. “The bond works both ways.”
“Yes.”
“That level of... enthusiasm... cannot be faked.”
I find my voice, though it comes out husky and satisfied. “Why would I fake it? This is what I've needed my whole life.”
Jesseth circles us slowly, his pale eyes studying the healing bite marks on my throat. “Remarkable. The legends spoke of accelerated healing, of a symbiotic loop. To see it in person...”
He approaches without asking permission, cold fingers tracing the silver lines where Kiakoa's teeth pierced my skin. I don't flinch at the clinical touch—nothing like the response I have when Kiakoa handles me.
“A creature of your caliber deserves a mate who can fully appreciate her rarity,” Jesseth says conversationally, still touching my throat. “Protect her adequately.Someone with the resources and historical knowledge to help you explore what you are truly capable of.”
The temperature drops. I feel Kiakoa's body go rigid behind me, centuries of diplomatic training the only thing preventing violence.
“Kiakoa is young,” Jesseth continues, addressing me directly. “He is powerful, but ignorant. He has stumbled upon a power he doesn't understand. I offer a partnership grounded in knowledge, a chance to rediscover the lost arts of our people, together.”
The insult hangs in the air. He's suggesting Kiakoa is too young and stupid to handle me.
“I'll consider it,” I say evenly, enjoying how Kiakoa's breathing changes behind me.
