The Blood is Love (Dark Eyes 2)

He takes his time looking at me, the fever in his gaze reaching a pitch, and I wonder what he sees when he sees me like this, the way he looks at me in both worship and awe. I know he makes me feel revered, like a goddess, like I have innate power all my own.

“For all time, Lenore,” he says, voice dropping to a rough whisper as he runs his thumb over my lip and I bring it into my mouth, sucking, biting, tasting him. “You’re mine for all time.”

The back of my head tingles, my stomach flips, and I’m giddy. Giddy and alive and in love, so hopelessly, dangerously in love.

Then he pulls out his thumb and covers my mouth with his, bringing me into a deep kiss and I’m reaching up and undoing his tie, hastily opening his shirt. He shrugs off his jacket, his belt, pants, everything, until he’s completely naked, his body cool and taut and huge above mine, the immense weight of him against my chest.

His kiss deepens, my legs part, I feel the head of his cock, hot and slick, press against me and then he’s pushing inside me, filling me whole.

I gasp, arching my back to make room for him as he pushes inside to the hilt, his cock stretching past every throbbing, aching nerve inside me, the air leaving my lungs. My head sinks back into the pillow, my mouth open, letting him possess every single inch of me.

“Lenore,” he rasps in my ear as he brings his mouth to my neck. “Lenore.”

All he says is my name, but it says more than enough. I hear the desire in his voice, the lust, the hunger, the desperation, and beneath all of that, the love.

He starts moving faster, our bodies working in tandem, fitting like magnets as skin slides across skin. I am lost to him, lost to the movement of our fucking, of how deeply he penetrates me in every way, like he’s sinking into my veins, my soul. Soon all I feel is him and I let my body go, let it become something feral and wild and beautiful.

Nails scratching down his back.

Teeth nipping at his neck.

Legs wrapped around his ass, pulling him in deeper, deeper, deeper.

And then I’m coming.

It hits me like a wave, knocking me over, and my heart seizes, like the whole world stops and as I cry out, limbs quaking, every single emotion I’ve had to juggle lately comes washing over me. It won’t stop, it can’t stop. I’m coming and I’m drowning and—

“I love you,” I say through a gasp, my eyes closing as tears spill. “I love you so much.”

My words surprise me. I’ve said, I always say it, but I feel it so much that it might just tear me right in two, down the middle of me. Maybe that’s what love is, being halved, until one part of you exists with you and the other part exists with him.

I close my eyes and I succumb.

When the room stops spinning, and air fills my lungs again, I open my eyes, the tears falling to the sides, running down my temples.

Solon is over top of me, his large, taut body moving smoothly like a well-oiled machine, watching me closely with a look I can’t read, a look that’s more than pleasure. My emotions probably took him by surprise once again.

I don’t want to get sentimental on him during sex, not when he’s yet to come, so I grab his ass, trying to pull him deeper inside me as he pumps his hips against me until my skin feels bruised. The bed is groaning under the movement and he’s gasping for breath. I love watching him come undone, working so hard that he’s actually sweating, his skin hot and tight instead of cool.

But there’s something different about him right now. The lustful, driven intensity that’s usually in his eyes as he’s fucking me, about to come, has been replaced by something darker.

Wilder.

Chaotic.

He stares at me, mouth open, fangs bared and there’s a flash of fear across his brow, his eyes widening as he fucks me harder.

“No,” he says, his voice raw but the panic unmistakable, and he’s shaking his head. “No, wait, no.”

“What?” I ask, alarmed, digging my nails into his skin, trying to slow him down so he can talk to me. “What’s happening?”

He doesn’t slow. He keeps fucking me, his cock driving in deeper and harder, like he’s not even in control of his body.

“Solon, what’s wrong?” I cry out, my stomach sinking.

But he doesn’t speak.

Instead, there’s a flash of his voice inside my head.

Run.

Run Lenore!

He’s telling me to run.

And that’s when I see it.

See what he’s trying to hold back.

The beast.

6

Lenore

It happens as if in slow motion, even though Solon’s pace doesn’t slow at all.