Page 91 of Bleed

He pulls out just before he comes, stroking himself once, twice, then shooting hot and salty across my tongue. I swallow, dizzy with relief, slumping back on my heels.

I’m still glassy-eyed and panting when Elliott scoops me up like I weigh nothing, cradling my body in his powerful arms and carrying me back over to the sofa. He lays me out carefully, folding my arms behind my back before kneeling between my legs, his hands roaming up my bare thighs.

“I’ve been starved to taste you since we first met,” he growls, jaw flexing.

“Then do it,” I pant, bucking my hips.

His eyes glint as he lowers his head and licks a slow stripe up my slit. I choke on a gasp, crying out as he starts lapping at my pussy, dipping inside me and teasing until I’m shaking.

He’s so good at it. When he focuses in on my clit, every flick of his tongue is calculated to make me scream. And when it starts vibrating with vampire speed, I do until my throat’s raw, coming so hard my ears ring.

He doesn’t stop. He keeps going, not letting up until I’m squirming away from him, over-sensitive and raw.

“Do you need to stop?” he murmurs, the gravelly tone of his voice making my toes curl.

I shake my head, too gone to form words.

His lips spread into a grin as he grabs me by the waist, hauling me up onto his lap. He positions me with my back to his chest, draping my thighs over his and spreading me wide.

“Come for me again, little mortal,” he rumbles in my ear, reaching down to slide two fingers inside me. He curls them just right to hit the spot, rubbing his thumb against my swollen clit.

I cry out, my head falling back against his shoulder as pleasure washes over me in waves. His other arm bands around my waist, holding me firm until I’m coming again, convulsing so hard I nearly black out.

Maybe I do. Because the last thing I remember is Elliott tucking me against his chest, smoothing my hair, and whispering, “Mine.”

Chapter

Twenty

From the moment I open my eyes, everything feels different.

It’s not just the lingering ache in my muscles, or the fact my skin still smells faintly of Valentina’s perfume and Elliott’s cologne. It’s not even the reel of obscene images from last night playing on an endless loop in my brain, every nerve ending buzzing with the memory of being brought to orgasm multiple times by not one, but two vampires. It’s more existential than that– a bone-deep realization that I’ve left one reality and am entering a new one.

For weeks, I’d convinced myself the thing I wanted most was for Elliott to touch me.

Last night, he did.

And now I can’t go back to pretending we’re two people awkwardly sharing a penthouse under the terms of a contract. Something shifted between us. Maybe everything did.

The change isn’t only internal, either. The bed itself feels different, and it takes me a second to realize why. A new blanket is draped over me, thick and weighted, made from the softest fur I’ve ever felt. It wraps around me like a hug, making me seriously consider ignoring my bladder altogether.

Pushing up on an elbow, I glance around, finding a glass of water and two bottles of pills on the nightstand that definitely weren’t there yesterday. The labels read ibuprofen and BounceBack– cures for my aching muscles and hangover.

I reach for the water first, draining half the glass in one go. My throat’s raw, like I spent the night screaming– which, to be fair, I sort of did. I chase the pills with another swallow before begrudgingly peeling back the blanket and extracting myself from my cocoon.

I’m naked, my lower half still tender, and… fuck, is that a bruise on my hip?

I roll sideways, examining it more closely. Four more bruises bloom beneath my fingertips in the unmistakable shape of a large hand.

Hot.

My lips curl into a smug smile.

Not bite marks, but I’ve been marked all the same, and there’s something deeply satisfying about that. Especially after weeks of Elliott acting like touching me would somehow bring about the apocalypse.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand up, the floorboards cool beneath my feet and my muscles protesting just enough to make me aware of every place he touched me. My eyes sweep over the room, instinctively scanning for any other signs of life.

The blackout curtains are drawn, but the light spilling from the cracked bathroom door is more than enough to see by. After confirming there aren’t any vampires lurking in the corners, I start for the bathroom, stopping cold when my gaze snags on black silk draped over the edge of the bed.