Page 65 of Bite Me

She is riding my hand, and I’m giving it to her, everything. I don’t want to tease her. I need her to crave what I’m doing so she’ll let me do it again and again. Because I have to do this again.

I watch while she builds up the willpower and then watch it crumble again as I curl my fingers in and stroke. Her head falls onto my shoulder.

“Please.”

“Please, what? Please, let you come?”

“Don’t stop.”

“If you keep riding my hand, I won’t.” I stroke her cheek. I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying this. How it feels to comfort her. To be this person for her.

When we’re this close and she’s flooding my senses. I thought it would be agony to finally touch her, but having her in the palm of my hand is pure bliss.

“Hips forward. Just like that. Good. Eyes on me.”

The closer she gets to her orgasm, the harder her fingernails dig into my skin. There’s a desperate pull as I pin her to the counter. This is all that feels right, but we shouldn’t be doing it.

My attention drifts to her rapid pulse as the blood flutters at the side of her neck.

“Are you going to come on my fingers while I drink from you?”

She tips her head to the side, allowing me access to her neck.

“I don’t know if I can. I’ve never . . .” She moans again.

“I can make you.”

I swirl my thumb on her clit, and another moan leaps from her chest. Her arousal swells with each stroke, and I know she’s close. She cries out, her legs shaking, clenching around my fingers.

“Tell me if it hurts, and I’ll stop,” I whisper in her ear before sinking my teeth into her neck.

Hot blood floods my mouth, and cosmic relief floods my senses. It’s so sweet. So perfect. Mine. It’s all mine.

When she gasps at my positioning, I give more.

Her fingernails dig into my scalp. “It feels . . . so . . . good.”

I thought tasting her blood would be like scratching an insatiable itch, but every taste is the most satiating, delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.

It’s peace I’ve never had and could never imagine.

“Say my name, and I’ll make you come.” I lick her neck, then her jaw.

Her hands run over my chest, and she’s growing wetter with every stroke inside her.

“What? You promised . . .”

“I know. I’m evil.” My mouth salivates at how close I have her, how there’s so little between my lips and the blood pumping underneath the surface. Her blood is pure bliss.

“I hate you.”

Her head tips back as her orgasm mounts, and so does mine. I can’t stop imagining being inside her, perfectly snug and engulfed in that beautiful, sweet scent.

“I can’t fucking stay away from you.” I add another finger, and she’s so stretched and full that she gasps.

I’ve tried as hard as I possibly could, but how can I ignore this?

“We should stop. Tell me to stop.” I don’t know what will happen after this. I don’t know if I can stay away from her.