Page 9 of Blood Moon Bound

His skin was cool, I felt it through my clothes.

“Straddle me,” he said.

He wanted me to…oh, god. I thought I might actually die of embarrassment. I didn’t move.

“Now, Delphine.”

It was an order, a demand. He was cold with me but not cruel. Would that change if I disobeyed him? Angered him? I didn’t want to find out. Still trembling, I obeyed, shifting on his lap, forced to grip his shoulders as I repositioned myself. A whimper of humiliation slipped from me, though, as I spread my thighs around his.

I sat far enough back that I was almost perched on his knees, not wanting to get too close.

“Look at me,” he said.

I couldn’t, not while his eyes burned like flames, scorching across my flesh. Even with my dress covering the most intimate part of me, I felt vulnerable and exposed.

He growled, then those battle-scarred hands gripped my hips again, and he lifted me, putting me down so close to him our stomachs and chests collided. Another whimper escaped without my say so.

“Look at me,” he said again.

I couldn’t.

One of those thick, rough-skinned fingers slid under my chin, and he tilted my head back. “I don’t have time to ease you into this, bride.”

He grabbed something from his pocket, a knife, and flicked it open. I gasped and tried to jerk back, but he held me fast with one strong arm locked around me.

“Please…please, don’t hurt me,” the plea fell from my lips.

Constantine’s gaze turned frigid. “I’m not your stepfather. I don’t hurt females.” Then, without flinching, he pressed the blade to the side of his throat. Blood immediately bubbled to the surface.

He tossed the knife to the bedside table. The scent hit me and I jolted as if struck, my fangs punching through my gums.

I breathed deep and my mouth watered.

“No blood you’ve ever had before will come close to mine,” he said.

Something snapped inside me, all fear and embarrassment giving way to ravenous hunger, to tasting Constantine’s blood. My hands flew to his shoulders and my nails dug into his flesh all on their own.

“Drink,” he said roughly.

It was as if someone else had control over my body. I all but climbed him, licking up the trail of blood that had slid down the side of his neck, pooling at his collarbone, then covering the small slice in the side of his throat with my mouth. My vision turned red, my hunger becoming unbearable. Instinct took over and I struck, my fangs sinking deep into the thick, pulsing vein against my tongue. As soon as I withdrew them, his blood, rich and decadent, filled my mouth.

I swallowed and groaned wantonly, wriggling to get closer as I drew deep on his vein. My arms banded around his neck tighter, holding him there, afraid he’d pull away or try to stop me.

My breasts felt swollen, my nipples tight and sensitive. Heat pooled in my lower belly, and the secret place between my thighs began to pulse and grow damp again. There was something hard beneath me, and I pressed down on it, trying to ease the unbearable ache growing deep inside me.

Constantine gripped my hips more firmly, pushing me down against the hardness behind the zipper of his trousers with a growl. “That’s it, little one.”

At his roughly spoken words, I squirmed against him. The movement sent a wash of pleasure through me. It gathered between my legs and sent shockwaves through my belly. My nipples ached, and I hugged him tighter, pressing my breasts against the hard wall of his chest, desperate to ease the ache there as well.

I was lost in a red haze of hunger, of chasing the foreign sensations pulsing through my body. My hips rolled, and again, Constantine pressed me down against the hardness in his trousers.

My nails clawed and tore at his shoulders and back, my hips frantically moving against him as I smashed my breasts to his chest and sucked on his vein, drinking him down. That feeling built inside me again, making me tremble as ever heightening waves of pleasure built inside, just like they had in the garden when Constantine had fed from me, then it crashed—

I threw my head back and screamed, shaking and rocking against him like an animal without restraint or shame. I felt a gush of fluid between my trembling thighs, then another wave hit me, making me cry out a second time before I finally, helplessly, collapsed against the powerful male under me.

His breathing was harsh, his fingers still gripping my hip hard enough to leave bruises.

I lay against him, weak and drowsy, as I slowly became aware of the way I still touched him, of how close we were, his scent now branded on my senses—his decadent taste still on my tongue.