Page 29 of Blood Moon Bound

“Constantine!” She shoved at my head. “What are you doing, you can’t mean to—”

I shoved her thighs wide and opened my mouth over her pussy and those soaked panties. Forcing her slit open with my tongue right over the lace. She went from shoving me away to fisting my hair with both hands and pushing me back down.

I chuckled darkly. “You like that?”

“Oh…yes, I like it. Please, Constantine, don’t stop.”

There was no chance of that. Gripping the sides of her panties, I tugged them down her legs and tossed them on the floor. Fuck me. She lay there, perfect, willing, desperate for more. My cock was a hot rod of molten steel, but somehow I ignored the pounding need to fuck and fell back between her thighs, throwing them over my shoulders and covering her pretty pussy with my mouth again.

She cried out, lifting her hips, twisting, thrashing as I lapped her up, toying with her clit, teasing her tight opening with the tip of my tongue. I knew what she wanted, and I would give it to her, but I wanted to make her come with only my tongue first.

Seconds later she rewarded me with a high-pitched scream, and I licked her up greedily. She collapsed back, her small frame trembling hard. I stayed where I was, easing my licks but not stopping.

“Nothing to say now, Delphine?”

“Umnh?”

I laughed again. I finally knew how to stop all her questions, most of them ones I couldn’t answer. But I got the feeling she had a lot more up her sleeve, more I wouldn’t be able to give her answers to.

I kissed her inner thigh. “More?”

Her hips rolled, and the sound she made was between a gasp and a sob. “Y-yes…please.”

Christ, she was going to kill me with the desire she had burning through me, scorching through my veins, tearing at my gut. I fucking ached for her in a way I never had for anyone else.

Delphine whimpered, and the monster, the bonded male could do nothing but answer, desperate to ease my female.

I lapped at her stiff clit and rubbed my thumb over her opening. “You want me to push inside, Delphine?”

She whimpered again. “Yes, do it.”

I rubbed over her opening again, then slid my finger inside as I gently sucked her oversensitive clit. Her cry ripped through me as she shifted restlessly, wanting more, needing it but not sure how to ask for it. I slid in deep and back out, over and over again, working her higher without allowing her to tip over to oblivion. She sobbed and rocked and thrashed. I should let her come, and even though I tried to deny it to myself, I knew what I was doing—preparing her for more.

More that she will never get from you.

I snarled, my inner voice fighting with the desire burning through me. Desire won, and I slipped in a second finger, stretching her wider, because that’s what I’d do if I was going to make her my mate. I’d make her come like this every night, getting her relaxed, used to me, giving her more, easing her up to three fingers until she was stretched out enough to take my cock, and even then, it would be a tight fit.

The mental images filling my head were a torment, and I pressed my cock hard against the covers as I fucked her with my fingers, the sound of her cries, how wet she was, her scent almost breaking me. Hunger hammered through me, so intense there was no fighting it anymore. I had to take something, or I’d shatter. I’d become the monster, the relentless warrior, and I wouldn’t just take her, I’d take all of her.

So I did the only thing I could, I shoved my fingers deep inside her and bit down on the tender flesh surrounding her clit. Delphine shrieked, her pussy bearing down on my fingers so tight there was no pulling them free, spasming over and over as she came hard, soaking my fingers, jerking and trembling, and sobbing, calling my name.

I lapped up her blood and come and my fucking eyes rolled into the back of my head from the pleasure of it. My balls tightened and I was moments from coming all over myself, and it took all of my self-control to stop it.

Delphine collapsed back, one final sob bursting from her, the sound squeezing something behind my ribs. She jolted as I licked her again gently, sealing my bite, healing it, then kissed my way back up her body. I looked down at her. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was faster than it usually was when she slept.

My bride had passed out again from pleasure.

I stared down at her for several more minutes, trying to decide what to do. I should carry her back to her own bed, but I found I didn’t want to. Now that I’d decided to enjoy her this way, I wanted her here with me, available to me. I wanted my talkative bride beside me.

You’re playing a dangerous game. This is a mistake.

Maybe, but I couldn’t stop, not now. She’d just come, screaming my name, in my bed. I still had the taste of her, of her pussy, of her blood on my tongue. The bonded male wouldn’t let her leave, not now.

But I had it under control.

If I felt myself slipping, all I had to do was think about her sadistic stepfather, about Samara, and I’d find the will to resist. Because despite who she was and the reasons I couldn’t mate her, she was still mine, my reward for centuries of war, of blood and violence and death. She was the softness I’d been without for so long.

So I was going to keep her with me, and I was going to enjoy her until I didn’t crave her any longer. Until my hunger for her eased—and I could bring myself to walk away.