Page 35 of Blood Red Rage

My brain tried one last time to throw up a warning. This is insane, this is too fast, this is…

Then his mouth moved down my jaw again, kissing my throat, my collarbone, lower, and my thoughts shattered into nothing but sensation. I didn’t know where my anger went. I didn’t know when fear stopped existing because all I knew was this.

Viking touched me like I was precious and sinful at the same time. Like he wanted to worship me and destroy me. His hands mapped me with slow certainty, learning every inch like a man building a religion. He murmured praise against my skin, filthy promises wrapped in reverence.

“Mine,” he whispered into my neck. “Say it.”

I gasped. “Viking…”

He bit lightly at my throat again, the sting sharp enough to jolt pleasure through me.

“Say it,” he demanded, voice breaking at the edges.

“I’m… yours,” I whispered, and the moment I did, he went utterly still. Like something inside him snapped into place. Then he moved again with sudden hunger, mouth crashing to mine, kisses turning rougher, deeper, as if my surrender had stripped the last of his restraint.

The bed creaked beneath us. The room filled with heat and breath and the sound of skin against skin, and every time I tried to catch my breath, he stole it again.

He didn’t just touch me, he claimed me. He kissed me until I couldn’t think. Until I couldn’t remember what my name meant outside his mouth. Until the only truth left was the one he’d been repeating since the second he saw me.

Mine.

And when it finally tipped over into something wild, torrential, unstoppable… I stopped fighting reality. I clung to him like he was the only thing keeping me together. His deep, thrusts building an avalanche of sensations within my body, within my very soul.

Tonight, I didn’t want normal, I didn’t want safe. I wanted my vampire, I wanted my monster. The man who looked at me like he’d burn the world down just to keep me breathing. And when the world exploded around me and he threw his head back and finally whispered my name again like a curse and a prayer…I let him take everything, because deep down I knew that I could fight as much as I wanted but nothing was ever going to change the fact that I was his, body and soul.

The aftermath was… dizzying.

I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, chest rising too fast, skin still too sensitive, the air still thick with him. Viking’s body was draped along mine like he couldn’t stand the idea of space. One heavy arm pinned me to him, his hand splayed over my stomach, possessive even in sleep.

His breath fanned over my shoulder, steady and calm. Like he hadn’t just dismantled my entire life, like he hadn’t just rewritten me from the inside out. I should’ve panicked again, but all I could feel was warmth. Safety, in the strangest, most terrifying form.

Then Viking shifted. The mattress dipped, his head lifting, his gaze raking over me with slow satisfaction like he was memorizing the aftermath too. His eyes softened, just a fraction, before something darker claimed them again. The world came back slowly, in fragments.

The quiet crackle of candlelight. The heavy curtains breathing faintly with the night wind. The slow drag of Viking’s fingers along my spine, not restless now, not hungry, just… there. Claiming without needing to prove it.

My body felt boneless, warm in that deep, satisfied way that made it hard to remember how to be angry. My skin still tingled everywhere he’d touched, everywhere he’d kissed.

And when the world had exploded around me and he’d thrown his head back and finally whispered my name again like a curse and a prayer… I’d let him take everything because deep down I knew that I could fight as much as I wanted, but nothing was ever going to change the fact that I was his.

That thought should have sent fear through me, but instead it settled in my chest like something dangerous and permanent. I lay there half-draped across him, cheek pressed to his shoulder, listening to a heartbeat that wasn’t human. Slower. Stronger. Like it belonged to a creature that didn’t know the meaning of fragile.

Viking’s hand traced lazy circles over my hip. Possessive even in calm, like the monster didn’t ever sleep. I swallowed, voice hoarse. “So… do vampires smoke after?”

His chest rumbled beneath me, a low laugh vibrating through my skin. “You’re cheeky,” he murmured.

I tilted my head up. “And you’re smug.”

“I’m satisfied,” he corrected, eyes glinting. “There’s a difference.”

I rolled my eyes, though the movement made me ache in the best possible way. “You’re intolerable.”

Viking leaned down and kissed my forehead like it was a vow. “You’ll live.”

I made a sound that was half laugh, half groan and tried to shift, but he tightened his grip, keeping me exactly where I was.

“Stay,” he said. It wasn’t a request, and that familiar defiance flared in me even while my body begged to melt into him again.

“I can’t stay glued to you forever,” I muttered.