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But the silken wet heat of her sex clenched around him and thought, reason, all of it, fell to the wayside.
He moved, filling her with slow, deep thrusts that soon had her arching against him, pleading whimpers escaping while her hands, already clawed, clutched at his shoulders. The fresh bite of his blood scented the air and he reveled in it, because he knew it meant he’d shattered her control.
He didn’t let his own out—he’d done her too much harm as it was and his control was already shaky.
Nuzzling her neck, he breathed her scent in, raking her skin lightly with his teeth.
She angled her head to give him better access but he didn’t take the invitation.
Not yet.
Not until they’d reached some sort of peace between them.
Her breathing quickened, his name a plea on her lips.
“Zee... ” He clutched her tighter, mindless as he felt his own orgasm raging closer. Hitching her higher, he adjusted his position so with each stroke, he rubbed against her clitoris with his body.
She stiffened, then a low keening wail escaped. She sank her teeth into his chest, on the opposite side of where she’d marked him a decade ago, and bit down as she climaxed.
He was only seconds behind her.
