Blood and Wine - Margot Scott Page 0,42
His hands move faster than I can register, ripping the back of my dress apart and shredding my panties.
His cock forces its way inside me without difficulty, and I know it’s because his whole body is slick with blood. My muscles cry out. I’ve never had something bigger than my own fingers inside me.
This hurts like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s like he’s trying to rend me in two.
“Will, please...” He doesn’t hear me. He bucks his hips, thrusting in and out of my tender pussy. Hard, fast, and merciless.
I try to crawl away, but he holds me down. The only reprieve I get is when he flips me onto my back. But then, he’s back again, rutting into me like a beast. I search his face for a flash of tenderness, some subtle remnant of his love for me.
But all I see reflected at me is heat and hunger.
Tears cloud my vision. His cock slides in at just the right angle, and suddenly I’m hit with something resembling pleasure. My body responds in spite of itself—a defense mechanism, easing my pain by masking it with something better.
I angle my pelvis, hoping he’ll hit the same spot again, and he does. I moan. Closing my eyes, I bang on the back door of Will’s psyche.
And to my surprise, he lets me in.
Once I’m inside his head, I tap into his pleasure and use it to soothe what’s left of my pain. His pleasure becomes my pleasure becomes our pleasure, and soon I’m meeting his thrusts with my own.
He fucks me like a man possessed, like a rabid beast. Like a demon. I sense his bloodlust, the insurmountable need to consume and devour. But I also sense his restraint. He could just as easily have ripped my throat out like he did to the others.
It’s his love for me that stops him from doing what comes so naturally to a vampire in his mental state. His bloodlust is something he can’t control—just like love itself. Love can be tender and sweet, but it can also be brutal and piercing.
It can draw blood.
On some level, Will knows who I am and that he loves me, but that awareness doesn’t reduce his need to consume. It just transforms his hunger from one form to another. And this new hunger still has to take from somewhere, so he’s taking his pleasure from me.
His grip on my hips tightens as the need within him climbs. I can feel my orgasm building alongside his. Scratching and clawing its way to the top of the mountain.
We hurl ourselves over the other side, freefalling. He comes, and then I come, piggybacking off his pleasure.
He slams into me, holding me steady. His cock throbs. Warmth spreads outward from the place where our bodies are joined. He growls and I moan, my muscles clenching. His final thrusts are punishing, and I take them. Not just because I’m strong enough, but because in my own perverse way, I enjoy it.
The intensity of his desire, and the pain it brings reminds me that I’m still alive, that Will’s alive, and his love for me is stronger than his need for survival.
His fangs graze my shoulder, making me shiver. He licks the spot he just scratched but doesn’t bite down. He’s returning to himself in the wake of his orgasm. But with renewed awareness comes a deluge of regret.
He knows what he’s done to me, and he hates himself for it.
He doesn’t know he’s already been forgiven.
Chapter Seventeen
William
As the cloud of wrath and hunger dissipates, I realize that I have done something terrible.
There’s blood everywhere. All over me and the floor and smeared across the body of the girl in front of me.
Mariah, I remember. Her name is Mariah.
And my cock is still inside her.
No, I think. Please, no...
I check her over in a panic, making sure she hasn’t been bitten. She’s alive, but badly ruffled. Breathing, but dazed. I withdraw from her body, and she lets out the softest whimper. I smell the blood, old and new, theirs as well as hers.
I have done something unforgivable.
An avalanche of regret overtakes me. I press my forehead to her chest. No amount of contrition will ever make up for the damage I have done, but I repent anyway.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, over and over again. “I’m so sorry, my love.”
I kiss her face and the bruises on her body, the violet palm prints on her hips. I kiss her pussy gently, like