Page 8 of Bleed

I slowly lift mine a second later, feeling like I’m surfacing from deep water. My vision takes a beat to focus as I blink my eyes open to meet his gaze.

His pupils are blown wide, amber nearly swallowed by black, his mouth parted slightly as he watches me.

I’m still breathing too fast, my body humming like a live wire and the ghost of his mouth lingering on my skin. It takes effort to pull myself back together, gather the scattered pieces of my thoughts, and stack them into something that resembles control.

“Was that everything you hoped for?” I pant, trying for sultry but landing somewhere between needy and breathless.

The corner of his mouth lifts. “Not quite,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over the spot he just fed from. “But it’s a promising start.” His fingers glide higher, shifting the fabric of my dress up to bunch around my waist, then tracing over the seam of my damp panties. “I’d like to taste your cunt now.”

I grin wickedly, sinking further into the cushions and spreading my thighs in invitation. “Then by all means.”

Chapter

Three

There’s something inherently thrilling about being the object of someone’s desire.

Even more so when that someone is a rich, powerful, and devastatingly gorgeous vampire.

I crook a finger to beckon Vincent closer, and he doesn’t waste time. His hands wrap around my legs, and he slides my panties down in one smooth motion, tossing them to the floor. I arch a brow in challenge, but the effect is ruined by the way my breath catches as he presses his palms to my inner thighs, spreading me wide.

He doesn’t dive in all sloppy and eager like most human men do. Instead, he takes a moment to just stare between my legs, seemingly savoring the view. It’s intense, but I refuse to squirm beneath the weight of his gaze, even as my heart beats a riot in my chest.

“See something you like?” I pant, trailing a hand down my stomach, then lower. I tease a fingertip along my seam, then spread myself open with my fingers, giving him an even more obscene view of the goods.

He hums in satisfaction, his teeth sinking into the pad of his lower lip as his gaze flicks up to meet mine. “Naughty girl,” he tuts, chuckling to himself.

The corner of my mouth ticks up. “So I’m told.”

His fingers close around my wrist, lifting my hand away as he leans in closer. I suppress a shiver as he trails the tip of his nose up to the apex of my thighs, inhaling deeply.

“Let’s see if your cunt’s half as delicious as your blood is, Tiffany,” he purrs, his tongue sliding out to lick a long, slow stripe from the bottom of my slit all the way up to my clit.

A shiver rattles through me, my hips jerking as my back arches off the couch.

It feels way too fucking good.

Vincent gets to work like he’s been starving for this, but he’s infuriatingly disciplined about it. Each movement of his tongue is perfectly controlled, alternating between quick flicks and long, languid strokes. He’s mapping me, I realize– learning exactly where to touch, how much pressure to apply, and what rhythm drives my hips up off the couch to chase more.

I try to keep quiet at first, but every time I clamp my lips together, a new surge of pressure cracks my resolve until I finally give in and let it all out. My cries and moans fill the air in a shameless cacophony of pleasure, Vincent humming against my pussy like he’s savoring the taste.

His tongue does inhuman things that quickly drive me to the brink of ruin. I don’t know if it’s the vamp super-speed or just decades of practice, but when he starts circling my clit with those impossibly fast, precise little motions, it’s like having a high-powered vibrator pressed against me.

“Fuck,” I gasp, my head tipping back as my hands scrabble uselessly against the leather cushions behind me. I barely notice when one of his hands slides beneath my ass to lift my hips higher, or when the other clamps down over my belly, holding me perfectly still so he can devour me.

He makes low grunts and soft, desperate groans, like the taste of me is making him lose his composure. It’s hot as fuck, rapidly driving me closer to climax. My body goes electric, every nerve ending rioting. My mind goes blank to everything except where his mouth is locked on me, how good it feels, how close I’m getting…

When my thighs start to shake, he doubles down, tongue flicking impossibly fast as he sucks my clit between his lips. I lose control, release crashing through me in a hot, blinding wave. My vision whitens as I cry out– loud, shameless, and zero fucks given. My hips buck so hard that I almost knee him in the face, but he just firms up his grip, licking me through every last spasm until I’m wrung out and shivering.

As I start to come down, I hear him groan, low and guttural. I blink my eyes open to find him still kneeling between my legs, his eyes glazed, mouth glistening… and a wet spot blooming on the crotch of his perfectly tailored slacks.

Holy shit… did he just come from eating me out?

I prop myself up on my elbows, still half-delirious and twice as bewildered. “Uh, do you need…?” I ask, gesturing vaguely at the situation between his legs and letting the question hang.

Vincent smirks, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand. “No, I’m quite satisfied,” he says, his voice thick. His eyes never leave mine– not even as he tugs a handkerchief from his jacket and dabs at the mess. I feel like I should be grossed out or something, but somehow, it’s strangely… flattering?

“Uh, cool,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant as I push myself upright. I fumble for my panties on the floor, pulling them back on before smoothing my dress down over my trembling thighs.