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“Harder,” I commanded, my breath strangled as he flicked his tongue with caress. He obeyed, and his fangs grazed my breast. The orgasm built in my stomach and escaped into a scream I couldn’t keep inside as he sent me to new heights.
Sweat beaded over my skin, the sheets rippling under my writhing body as he rocked the orgasm from me, slowing his tongue against my breasts with each pulse.
Dizziness encompassed every part of me, my mind numb against any thoughts as I came onto his fingers. Then, after I stopped, he pulled his fingers from inside me and brought them to his lips, tasting my arousal.
“Gods,” he said, bringing his mouth back to mine, pausing to look into my eyes. His gaze darted around mine for a moment, a carnal need sharpening his features.
My mouth opened to his and nothing else mattered but us. I didn’t care that I could taste myself on him.
Wild-eyed, he tore the little fabric of my dress left clinging to my body and threw it to the floor. I unbuttoned his pants, my breath hitching as his erection sprang free. His deep voice reverberated my name against me.
He pushed the tip in first, then his, long, hard length, thrusting himself deep inside me. Panting, I ran my hand over the muscles in his arms, holding onto him as he fucked me slow at first, then harder. Forcing my ass up the bed until my back hit the headboard, he then cupped my breasts.
Want rippled through me. He fisted my hair, and I brought my mouth to his, biting his bottom lip. I pushed my hips upward, and he enveloped us as one.
The bed rocked under our weight, wood slamming against the wall. The restraint in his features snapped when he looked at me. “Olivia,” he said my name like I was his, only his.
He pounded into me harder, as a second orgasm built in the base of my torso. My toes curled against the sheets, fingernails biting into his skin. I wanted him, every inch of his toned, muscular body. I lost myself to the sound of the bedframe splintering under us, echoing into the wall.
Pillows fell to the floor as he pounded deeper, unable to stop.
He slowed, and kissed my neck, his fangs scraping against my collarbone. A trickle of blood slid down me.
Closing my eyes, I whispered, “Bite me.”
He stilled for a moment and nuzzled into my neck. I readied myself for the initial pain, but it couldn’t make its way through the pleasure. My blood seeped into him, and his venom coursed into my veins, sending me higher than I’d ever been.
My legs jolted, my arms shaking as the venom took over, stealing the second orgasm as if it were a whisper in the wind. Then, something hotter crept through me, like flames licking my body, an intense orgasm big enough it felt as if it could kill me. As if I wanted it to.
I ran my hand through his black curls, needing to feel every part of Sebastian. The animal in me recognized the animal in him, and something changed. It was as if we were onehis venom, my blood, were an obsession. An addiction—to each other.
“Mine.” The word reached me through my venom-induced haze, and I screamed his name into the room as I reached the pinnacle, a fever sweeping my mind.
An orgasm unlike any other shredded through my body. He groaned, erupting hot cum inside me, and his legs stiffened. His mouth opened as he rocked slower until the orgasm finished with sparks vibrating through us both.
He lowered his forehead, resting it against mine. Then, catching his breath, he slowly moved from on top of me. I could only stare up at the ceiling, a satisfied smile on my lips.
Sex before him was nothing but a watered-down version of what I thought pleasure could be. I glanced at his body, every chiseled edge of it, and realized I didn’t want anyone else.
My eyes widened. The realization of it hit me like a ton of bricks. He didn’t want me to be only his. He married me because he had to, but he’d said ‘mine’. I recalled what Astor had once said during sex, when he told me he loved me only weeks into our relationship that ‘things said in the throes of passion weren’t real’. Maybe that was the same now.
Sebastian’s fingers locked with mine, and when he glanced over at me, he appeared just as surprised as I was.
“Stop thinking,” he said again as if he could read my anxiety, and planted a kiss against my cheek.
My heart palpitated. “I can’t help it.”
He smirked. “I know.”
There was so much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t find the words and had no idea how they would be reciprocated. “Do you hate me?”
He turned onto his side, holding his hand in mine. “Did that feel like I hate you?”
I smiled. “No, but…” I held my breath for a moment. “What do you feel—for me?” I swallowed thickly, my stomach knotting.
He let out a long sigh, turning back onto his back. “It’s complicated.”
“I’m good with complicated.”
