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It took me a moment to get my senses back, and I cried out, “Don’t taste my blood!”
Ilsa froze, her lips hovering above the wound. There was panic in her voice. “Is it poison?”
I felt the calm rush through me when she stopped—I hadn’t warned her too late. “No,” I breathed a sigh of relief. “It would start the bonding process.”
Ilsa shifted up until her face was above mine and pressed her hand over the wound as though rubbing away the blood would take away what she had done.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“No, it feels good. I want you to bite. But I should’ve explained about the blood.”
“What’s the bonding process?”
“Something demons do, it forges a lifelong connection between mates. Between a human and a demon, it would increase your lifespan, give you increased strength and heightened senses.” I bit my lip. “It makes being away from your partner physically painful.”
“Oh,” she said.
She frowned again.
Fuck, she was actually considering it.
It’s not that I didn’t want to.
Did I?
It was a big step, the most significant thing I, as a demon, could do with another being, and while it was reversible, it was a long and painful process, which would leave us both with scars, physical and otherwise, for life.
“Ilsa…”
She nodded, biting her lip again before grinning at me. I was about to ask what she was thinking when she fell forward onto me, sinking her teeth into my neck, causing me to cry out in surprise more than pain.
My eyes flashed, and my skin rippled. She was enticing a darker part of me.
“Ilsa...” There was a warning in my voice this time, and I gripped the headboard to avoid breaking the bonds against my wrists.
“You said harder…” she whispered against my neck, “… so just shut up and take it.” She made a trail of kisses down my body again, sinking her teeth into my stomach’s sensitive skin, and I bucked my hips toward her, a snarl building in my throat.
The headboard shook.
I’d promised not to break the binds, but I couldn’t guarantee the headboard wouldn’t crack.
Was she doing it on purpose? Enticing my demon?
She bit along my hip bone and traced her hands down my legs, the touch I had denied her earlier. Smirking, Ilsa took the boots off my feet and dropped them off the edge of the bed. They represented the control I had over her earlier, and the glee shining in her eyes now only reiterated she was in charge now.
I was hers.
Sliding my panties down over my legs before discarding them, she bit me again, drawing more blood. But she was quick to move away, not risking the blood getting into her mouth. After the bite, she had cast me a glance as if asking if what she was doing was okay or for permission to continue. I simply nodded, grateful she took my warning seriously but also drowning in the ecstasy of pleasure meeting sweet pain.
My demon stirred. Part of me ached for her to take my blood, my body screaming in protest as the metallic scent hit my nostrils and was met with no follow-through.
When her tongue ran up between my pussy lips, I cried out again. Looking up over my body, she saw the yellow of my eyes, the blackening of my skin. I was inexperienced at holding my human form when my demon struggled to get out, a skill that could take years to perfect. I needed release, and I needed Ilsa to give it to me because right now, my instinct was fighting against the knowledge I had made a promise.
Above all, I needed her not to be afraid of me anymore.
“Ilsa, please…” I panted. “I can’t hold on.”
Whether she understood or not, I wasn’t sure, but either way, she dived between my legs, licked and sucked at my clit, spread my lips with her fingers, and sucked hard at the bud. I strained against the bonds and struggled to maintain control not to break them. When the headboard cracked, Ilsa’s eyes shot up and met mine, her eyelids heavy with lust as her mouth worked against my heat. Driving three fingers into me, she gave me no chance to adjust to the spread and pumped them in and out as she continued to suck at my clit.
