Elias added his ring finger with relish, glorying at the sight of the gold band pushing at the entrance of her sex. He pushed it high and tight, jiggling that coarse spot inside of her. “If we’d gotten this far last time, I’d have known you were a virgin.” He dipped his head, dragging the flat of his tongue over her clit and her inner walls rippled around his fingers. “You still feel like one, don’t you, baby? So sweet and snug.”
“Elias,” she called, voice strangled, hips twisting. “Please, you will drive me crazy.”
“I’d only be returning the favor,” he breathed against her damp heat, working his fingers in and out of her with firm insistence, reveling in the way she parted for him with every thrust of those two digits, so he could memorize her exact shade of rose gold, watch her clit swell and beg for attention. And he gave it to her, curling his tongue around that little bud and making her moan, her hips jolting off the floor. “Fuck,” he groaned when her perfect flavor hit his taste buds, his fangs shooting down, throbbing. “Oh. Fuck.”
“Don’t stop,” she whimpered, her fingers plowing through his hair, twisting and yanking him closer to her pussy in a way that was purely Roksana. Purely his mate. He smiled savagely into his next rough series of licks, then batted her clit with his tongue, side to side to side until she slung her legs over his shoulders, her heels digging into the center of his back, those sexy thighs starting to tremble. “Elias. Elias. Poceluy menya, kosnys’ menya.”
“God, baby. Keeping talking like that. Tell me in two languages that I tongue fuck you right. More.” Jesus Christ. He’d never been more hot in his life, listening to her whine in her native language, her wetness dampening his chin. Alternating between gentle licks and dirty grinds of his tongue on top of her clit, Elias caught her hips in a bruising grip, squeezing, sliding his palms up to her tits and pinching her nipples. At the same time, he buried his tongue inside of her, moaning brokenly at the divine taste, texture, flex of muscle—and she screamed, her back arching off the rug, her sex contracting and releasing around his tongue, the taste of her pleasure satisfying him like nothing else, while starving him for more. For everything. “Need to feed,” he growled, pushing her thighs open wide, the sound of her erratic pulse battering his brain, his senses. “Do you know I worship you when I drink you? Do you know I pray to you like a fucking goddess when your taste hits me? God. Let me do it now.”
“Yes.”
His fangs slid into the supple flesh of Roksana’s inner thigh and she sucked in a breath, her body falling flat, eyes blind with pleasure. Her blood was hot and thick, mingling with the taste of her gratification on his tongue and he could do nothing but fuck the floor helplessly, his cock in a state of urgent pain. The source of her life flowed into his own veins, his heart pumping stronger, louder, echoing in his head along with her name. Putting an end to his meal was hard, as always, but he could almost read his wife’s mind. She was desperate for something.
He found out what it was when he retracted his fangs and was immediately shoved onto his back. Fine, he allowed himself to be shoved, went like a willing victim, hedonistic need tensing every one of his muscles as she climbed on top of his body, straddling his hips, her panties a twisted mess, stretched out and tangled to one side of her pussy. God above, she glowed like an angel in the firelight, her blonde hair in disarray, her face so beloved it made him ache. “Mine,” he rasped, raking rough hands up her outer thighs, his thumbs meeting at her exposed femininity to massage the swollen bud he’d crave with his dying breath. “Mine.”
For a moment, he forgot which of them was the eternal being, because her eyes seemed to blaze with something conjured by magic. “I want…you to be mine like that.”
“I am,” he roared, his chest filling with concrete. “Don’t you ever doubt it.”
“I don’t,” she rushed to reassure him while leaning down over his body, kissing his collarbone. “I meant…you know my taste, but I don’t know yours.”
“Blood.” A wicked pulse pumped between his legs, pushing his cock up between her thighs hungrily. “You want my blood, mate? You make it run. It’s yours. Drain me.”
Roksana eyed his neck in a near-trance, a breathless few seconds ticking past while he held his breath and then she lunged forward, her teeth breaking the skin above his pulse. The energy surrounding them blasted like a stereo, every particle in the air defining itself for his eyes, purpose tearing into him like saw blades. He cupped the nape of Roksana’s neck, begging through numb lips for her to take and take and take. She did so with enthusiasm, lapping at the life she’d put into him, her pussy grinding down on his shaft, her nipples stiff in his chest hair.