Page 72 of Hunt Me

“You’ve heard correctly.”

“We should fix this affliction at once.”

“And how do you suggest we do this?” she asked.

“You shall see.”

***

Water splashed loudly onto the floor as their bodies slid together. Matilda’s fingers were tangled in Luka’s lustrous locks, and his face was buried in her neck as he delivered on his promise to give her five hours of pleasure. His hands slicked over her ample breasts, squeezing them and pinching her nipples as he mated her. Her swollen pussy clenched around him when his fangs scraped teasingly across her neck, leaving thin, bloody scratches.

“Bite me,” she whispered harshly, fingers tightening around the tub’s edge. She wanted to feel it—that euphoric rush that left her gasping and writhing and throwing herself at her mortal enemy.

He spun and weaved an intricate web and laid his sticky trap. He coaxed her to come in more ways than one, and she willingly flung herself into the center, practically begging for him to take her. To hell with her life, mortality and immortality, hierarchy, and a centuries-long feud—none of it mattered. Her back would arch off the web, but she was still stuck… powerless… vulnerable… subject to his mercy.

“Beg me, Beloved,” he whispered, licking away the blood that pebbled on her flesh. She shook her head furiously. She wouldn’t beg, knowing he wanted to sink his teeth into her just as badly.

Matilda yelped when he pounded into her, sending a tidal wave of water over the rim of the wooden tub. She sucked in a breath when his fingers teased her clit, pinching it firmly between his middle and forefinger.

“P-please.”

He grinned against her neck. “Please, what?”

“P-please choke on a stake!”

He tsked before saying, “Why do you always have to be so difficult, Tilda?”

His teeth penetrated her neck as gently as he could, but that didn’t stop her from jolting from the initial shock of pain. He took from her and fucked her as she melted in his arms. Blood poured from her neck, slipping down her breast and slightly rounded abdomen before spilling into the bath water and staining the white flower petals.

The forbidden lovers came together and fell boneless into the tepid water. Luka cradled Matilda as she came down from her orgasm; however, the venom still left her legs shaking and her breath stuttering. He hummed an old tune that Anastasia would sing as he stroked Matilda’s damp curls. The song was about two lovers who unfortunately met a tragic end; however, their love was so strong that they found each other in the afterlife. It comforted him because he had believed the same could be said about them—that they would always find their way to each other again. But now, he had a new love, and life would run its natural course, and she would die. Given the choice, who would he follow?

“You’re quiet,” Matilda commented, running her hands up and down his thighs.

“I thought you preferred me silent.”

“I thought I did, too.”

“Are you lightheaded?”

“Only slightly.”

“Hm,” he grunted. “I took too much. My apologies.”

“You’re always forgiven.”

“I don’t like this,” he announced. Matilda leaned her head back and looked into his dark eyes.

“What ails you?”

“This,” he replied, motioning at her.

“Me?” she asked in disbelief.

“Precisely.”

“Why? Whatever did I do?”

“You’re being too kind to me.”