Page 43 of My Neighbor Literally Bites

"It does to me." I set the cloth aside and climb fully onto the bed, knees bracketing his hips. The quilt bunches beneath us. Outside, the light is dying fast.

Alaric's hands settle on my waist, thumbs brushing the hem of my shirt. "Hannah."

I lean down. "I love you." The words come out plain, unshakable. No hesitation left. "Not because you saved us. Not because of the bond or the danger. I just love you."

His fingers tighten. For a moment I think he might stay silent, the old walls rising. But they don't. He exhales, rough. "I love you too." The admission sounds torn from him, raw and certain. "I thought loving you would be another failure to carry. Another way to lose what I swore to protect. But you're not a betrayal of the past, Hannah. You're the reason the future feels possible."

The words sink into me, warm and deep. I lean to kiss him, slow, tasting the bloodroot that does no harm to me. The exhaustion and fierce tenderness rises from beneath me. His mouth opens under mine, and he places a hand at my nape, holding me in place.

I pull back just enough to tug my shirt over my head. His gaze traces me, hungry but careful. "You're still healing," I whisper.

"I know my limits." His hands slide up my back, unclasping my bra with deliberate focus. "And right now, my limit is not having you."

I laugh softly, the sound surprised out of me, and press him back against the pillows. His chest rises faster as I explore—palms over the fading red lines, lips following the path my fingers took earlier. He groans low when I nip at the hollow of his throat. His cock rises in his pants, pushing against my thigh.

"Easy," I murmur, but there's no real command in it. I want him wild. I want him to be mine.

He flips us carefully—still mindful of his strength—and settles between my legs. The weight of him is comforting. He trails his tongue down my neck to a breast, and he circles the peak until I arch and curse under my breath. My hands fist in his hair, holding him there.

"Alaric—" His name breaks on a gasp when his fingers slip beneath the waistband of my pants, finding me already wet. He strokes slow, teasing, learning every hitch of my breath. Two fingers slide inside me, and I can't help but rock into them, chasing the friction.

Our eyes lock. The mate bond hums between us—not demanding, not completing, just present. A current of need and choice and forever that makes every touch sharper.

I shove at his pants until he helps, kicking them away. Naked, he's devastating—lean muscle, old scars, the fading bloodroot marks that only make him more real.

I push him to his knees, and slide down his body, kissing the fading bloodroot marks, then to his abdomen, until I bend over and my ass in the air, and my head, between his thighs. Alaric's breath catches as I wrap my fingers around the thick base of his cock, stroking once, twice, feeling him harden fully under my touch.

I look up at him through my lashes, then take him into my mouth—slow, wet heat enveloping the head. My tongue swirls around the sensitive underside. He groans low, fingers threading gently into my hair. I sink deeper, hollowing my cheeks, sucking with deliberate rhythm while my hand works what I can't swallow.

"Fuck, Hannah," he rasps, hips twitching but holding back. I hum around him, taking him further, loving the way he loses control for me—raw, vulnerable, mine.

His fingers tighten in my hair, gentle but firm, and he pulls me off just as his cock throbs against my tongue. "Not yet," he growls, voice wrecked. I release him with a wet pop, lips swollen.

Alaric lays me down in one smooth motion. He spreads my thighs wide, settling between them with predatory grace. His breath ghosts over my slick folds before his mouth descends—hot, hungry. His tongue drags slowly from the entrance to the clit, tasting me deeply. I arch with a sharp cry as he sucks the swollen bud between his lips, two fingers sliding inside me, curling perfectly.

"Alaric—" I moan, hips grinding against his face while he devours me like a man starved.

His tongue works me relentlessly, flicking fast over my clit before flattening to lap broad strokes that make my thighs tremble. Two thick fingers pump deep inside me, curling against that sensitive spot with every thrust. I clutch the quilt, back bowing off the bed as pleasure coils tighter.

"Alaric—oh god," I gasp, one hand fisting his dark hair. He growls against my pussy, the vibration shooting straight through me. He adds a third finger, stretching me open, fucking me harder with them while his mouth suctions my clit. Wet sounds fill the room—obscene, perfect. My hips buck wildly against his face, chasing the building pressure.

He doesn't let up. His fingers curl and stroke with devastating precision, tongue circling faster. The bond amplifies every sensation until I feel like I'm coming apart at the seams. Heat floods low, different this time, sharper, overwhelming.

"I'm—fuck, I'm going to—" The words dissolve into a broken moan.

Alaric pushes deeper, sucking hard on my clit as his fingers thrust relentlessly. The orgasm crashes over me like a wave. My walls clamp down, then release in powerful spasms. A hot gush floods his hand and mouth as I squirt, thighs shaking uncontrollably. He drinks it down with a low, satisfied groan, fingers still moving through every pulse, drawing it out until I'm whimpering, oversensitive, and utterly spent.

He lifts his head, lips glistening, eyes dark with raw hunger and love. "Beautiful," he murmurs, kissing my inner thigh as aftershocks ripple through me.

I'm still trembling, thighs slick and quivering, when Alaric rises over me. His cock is rock-hard, flushed dark and glistening from my earlier attentions. He kisses me deeply, letting me taste myself on his tongue, then notches the thick head against my pussy.

"Need you," I whisper, wrapping my legs around his waist.

He pushes in, stretching me. We both groan at the perfect fit. Then he starts to move—long, powerful strokes that drag against every sensitive nerve. The bed creaks as he picks up speed, hips snapping forward. I meet every thrust, nails raking down his back, urging him deeper.

"Harder," I demand, voice hoarse. He obliges, fucking me with raw intensity, one hand braced beside my head while the other grips my hip. Each deep plunge sends sparks through me. My breasts bounce with every thrust; he leans down to capture a nipple between his teeth, sucking hard.

The mate bond flares hotter, syncing our pleasure until I can't tell where I end and he begins. I clench around him, gasping his name like a prayer as another climax builds fast and fierce. He angles his hips, hitting that spot again and again, driving me higher, relentless, perfect.