He grabs a handful of my hair and jerks my head back. His cock rams me hard, driving me to tiptoes. He’s fucking me in full view of anyone in the alley below, and I don’t care anymore.
“Say it,” he orders, tugging on my hair in time to his punishing thrusts. “Tell me who you belong to.”
“You, master. I belong to you.” I’ll scream it if he wants. But he takes pity on me and accepts my whispered surrender.
He tugs me up so I’m bowed back, my head back against his chest. He secures me with his arm like an iron band around my front. His hand grips my neck, drawing it back further to expose my pulse.
“And I’m yours, Aurelia. Forever.” And as his fangs pierce my skin, my orgasm blows up inside me, a supernova of ecstasy.
And in the distance, lights burst around the Eiffel Tower. Colors explode in the sky, bright as fireworks but lingering like the Northern Lights. A million tourists are fumbling for their cameras, and tomorrow news channels will consult scientists on the phenomena. But Charlie and I will know the truth.
“Is that for me?” he asks, staring at the sky. Multicolored shadows flit across his face.
I nod as much as I can with his hand locked on my chin.
“Beautiful,” he says, but he’s looking at me.