Page 33 of Bitten & Burned

“Anton—” I moaned, but whatever I was going to say dissolved on my tongue when he closed his lips around me and sucked.

Hard.

Heat shot through me, the tug of his mouth sparking low in my belly. My thighs trembled against his shoulders.

A strangled sound tore out of me as I arched off the bed. He was always two steps ahead, one hand splayed over my belly, holding me down, while the other was hooked around my thigh, as if it were stabilizing him.

Hells, it might have been.

Because the way he moaned as if he were the one coming undone, the way he devoured me like I was the only thing that had ever mattered… he sucked and licked and nuzzled me until I fell apart.

Release crashed through me, and for a second, I was almost disappointed—because I thought that meant he’d stop.

Except he didn’t. He kept going, his fingers helping me along toward a second and a third, wringing me out completely.

The silk beneath me felt damp with sweat, and his relentless tongue dragged me higher, wringing sound after sound out of me.

I was certain I wasn’t speaking words, just mumbling incoherently as he pushed up from between my legs—his mouth and chin glistening with me, and altogether too proud of himself.

“Gods, Rowena—you taste like nectar,” he groaned, collapsing on the pillow beside me.

I couldn’t move. Too blissed out and overstimulated.

I tried, though. Tried to roll and curl up beside him.

He chuckled and helped, pressing a kiss to my head like he hadn’t just eaten me for a three-course dinner. The faint rasp of his stubble scratched at my scalp, grounding me in the quiet after the storm. I curled into him, still trembling.

“Still with me?” he asked, voice thick and full of smug affection.

“Barely,” I murmured. “I might need a minute…”

“Take as long as you need. Believe me, I’ll be here.”

“You ruined me.”

“Good,” he stroked my hair. “That was the plan.”

“Anton?”

“Hmm…?”

“Can I… taste you? Your blood, I mean.”

His hand stilled in my hair for a short moment before he began stroking again. “Rowena…there’s… something you should know.”

“About… your blood?” I asked.

“Yes. You know how every vampire’s blood is different? How every vampire has different… enhancements?”

“Yes,” I repeated, wondering if a point was on the horizon.

“Mine’s… sort of in my blood.”

“Like Cassian’s?”

He sighed. “Yes and no… my blood’s not addictive, but it’s… well…”

He was silent for a moment, thinking before continuing.

“Let’s just say, my blood doesn’t quench desire. It tends to... pour fuel on it.”

“Oh,” I said. “So you don’t want me to drink it because—”

“I never said that. I just… wanted you to be aware, it might make you feel things that… you might not have been feeling before.”

“Anton, you just gave me three orgasms with your mouth alone, suffice it to say… I have all the feelings for you right now. All the good ones.”

I could have sworn he blushed a little before continuing. “I just wanted to be certain you knew.”

“What happens exactly?”

“It varies from person to person, but I’ve seen a wide range of reactions…”

“Such as?”

Anton’s gaze flicked to mine, thoughtful. “There was a violinist once. She swore she could taste music after drinking from me—said every note lingered on her tongue like wine.”

I blinked. “Taste music?”

He nodded, eyes distant. “A sculptor in Vienna lost her voice for three days—she could only sculpt what she wanted to say. Created some of her best work that week. And… there was a prince in Cairo who got so aroused he proposed marriage mid-bite. Didn’t even remember doing it.”

I grinned. “That tracks.”

Anton arched an eyebrow, lips twitching. “It doesn’t always affect people like that. Sometimes it just… heightens what’s already there.”

I pressed a hand to his chest. “Anton.”

He stilled.

“I want you. All of you—the blood, the danger, the chaos. The catastrophe of you. I’m not asking because I want an altered state. I’m asking because I want you.”

His expression shifted—reverent, almost stunned. “Then come get me, darling.”

I inhaled and sat up. He sat up as well, coaxing me to sit in front of him.

He folded his legs. I folded mine. He brought his wrist to his lips, eyes locked on mine as his teeth broke skin.

When he held it out, blood welled in bright drops and slid down his arm.

I used my tongue to catch it before latching on.

He sucked in air like it hurt, but I could tell by the way he was breathing that it didn’t. Far from it.

The first swallow burned sweet, thick, and hot, coating my tongue like burnt sugar. He tasted like honey and iron, with something bitter at the end. Not unpleasant—just enough to give it bite. Not only a taste, but a feeling. Arrogance.

I groaned and took a big gulp.

It hit me all at once.

I felt colors burst behind my eyes, a delicious shiver rolled through my body like a wave of happiness, and then… I laughed. It bubbled out of me unbidden, joy fizzing through my blood like champagne. I laughed and sputtered.

And laughed more.

The ache in my belly centered between my thighs, worse than I’d ever felt before, as if he hadn’t just made me come three times minutes before.

I made this groan-gurgle sound and let go of his wrist, eyes wide as he closed the wound and looked at me. “Are you… laughing?”

“Yes,” I said, feeling another giggle rise to the surface like bubbles beneath water. I barked out a laugh, clapping my hands over my mouth. “Fuck. Anton, come here, I want you.”

“You’re laughing…” he repeated, as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Yes, what clued you in?” I asked, collapsing into giggles because his face was so fucking cute and confused.

“Rowena, you have to understand… I’ve given many people my blood, and none of them have ever reacted like this. The closest I got was one woman who pinned me down and tickled me. That was… me laughing. Not… never…”

I hummed and reached for him. “Are you complaining? Why are you still wearing clothes? Gods, take them off, I want you.”

“Wait just a moment,” he laughed, even as I kissed along his jaw and down his neck. “Tell me something first.”

“What?”

“How does it feel?”

I moved back up, nuzzling against his face. I purred in his ear. “Like that…” I purred, then broke into a loud laugh. “Exactly like that, against my clit… and gods, you smell so fucking good, Anton…”

He groaned, low and primal. “Gods, you’re going to undo me.”

“That’s the point,” I replied. “Now undo your trousers. I cannot believe you’re still wearing them.”

I was straddling his hips and had to rise up, my legs shaking.

“Gods, I want you so badly… I don’t even know if I can ride you…”

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ve got you.” He said, grinning wickedly, before rolling me over on my back. “Just let me do all the lifting. Lie back like a goddess and let me worship you…”

“As long as you do it fast—I need you… need your cock, please…” I whispered, fumbling at his waistband. A laugh bubbled up uncontrollably. “Gods, I just said cock.” The word was hilarious and delicious all at once.

He popped the button at his waist, smirking down at me. “You’re high.”

“On you,” I shot back, tugging impatiently until he was free. My breath caught, laughter spilling again. “Well, hello there.”

Anton barked out a laugh. “I take it that’s approval?”

I was still grinning when he pushed into me—wet, open, no resistance. And fuck, he felt huge.

A laugh tore out of me on the end of a moan, my hand flying up to cover my mouth.

Anton caught my wrist, pressing it back down against the sheets. “Are you seriously laughing while I’m inside you?”

“Yes,” I gasped, another giggle slipping free, “and moaning, and swearing, and—gods, Anton—you feel…” I broke off, dissolving into helpless laughter again.

His eyes darkened, amused and ravenous all at once. “You’re killing me, darling. Laughing while I fuck you… Do you know how unfair that is?”

“Not unfair,” I managed between gasps, laughter bubbling with every thrust. “You said catastrophe, remember? I’m just… proving you right.”

He groaned, bracing over me, his mouth crushing mine mid-laugh like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to ruin me or join me.

He hissed, low and raw. “Gods… you feel like a sin, Rowena. One I’ll burn for, gladly…”

“You feel… fucking huge, Anton… gods… just…. Split me open, fuck.”

“Do you want me to stop?” He teased, hips dead still in that way that only vampires can be.

“Don’t you dare,” I moaned. “Unless you mean stop teasing, because yes, in that case…”

He hummed against my throat, licking along my neck. “I might want to bite you first…”

“Oh gods, yes, just do it,” I moaned, baring my throat for him.

For the briefest moment, Quil’s face flashed in my mind—his mouth on my throat, the guilt, the regret. My chest squeezed tight.

“Hey…” Anton nuzzled me, kissing my skin. “Are you still with me?”

But this wasn’t Quil. This was Anton. Reverent. Steady. Waiting. Offering, not taking.

I nodded, turning my head. “Maybe the other side.”

“Of course, darling, it would be my pleasure.”

Instantly, the fear melted away, leaving me shivering in a wonderful way.

I was his again. Anton’s. I wanted to be. I could die like this and be perfectly happy.

All I wanted was to lie down and let him worship me with his hands, his tongue, his teeth, his cock… fuck, I wanted all of him.

“Anton… Please… take me…”

He growled, the sound feral and awakening. He bent and sank into me for the second time. His teeth broke my skin so gently I almost didn’t register it—until the warm pull of him drinking spread fire through my veins. The first mouthful he took, he groaned. The second, he pulled back…

“Oh darling...” His hand ghosted over the sigil burned into my thigh. I flinched away from his touch. He could feel it now. And pity was creeping in. I had to stop it.

“Make me forget it,” I whispered.

He didn’t need to respond. He snapped his hips into mine, his mouth latching over the bite on my neck. He groaned into my skin as he thrust into me, each sound vibrating through my bones.

My nerves sang, split between pain and pleasure—the wound on my thigh burning even as everything else he gave me drowned it out. Fuck.

Pleasure won.

I tumbled over the edge, chanting his name as he licked the bite closed again. My body held onto him, holding him inside as I came around his cock.

He moaned, thrusting shallowly as I fluttered around him, slowing to a stop. Immediately, he nuzzled my throat. “Are you alright? You’re not hurting, are you?”

“If I am, I don’t fucking care,” I said with a lazy grin.

“You might later…” he murmured, kissing me softly, peppering small kisses over my collarbone. He was still deep inside. Still rock hard.

“Gods, I still want you…”

“I can tell, you’re milking my cock like it owes you money…” he whispered.

“It owes me something, alright.”

He chuckled against my lips. “You’ll have it, darling. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not. I won’t ever worry again. Everything’s so… gods, Anton… perfect.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he murmured, his hips slowly starting to move. “Because you are driving me crazy…. You feel so good, Rowena. You take me so well…”

“Oh gods, fuck me,” I begged. “Please… don’t make me beg.”

“You already are, and it’s magnificent,” he murmured, snapping his hips into me—filling me so completely I thought I might break.

“Oh, gods…Anton… fuck… don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

He didn’t. He didn’t stop.

He rolled his hips slowly, deeply, like he had all the time in the world to ruin me—again. My hands clutched at his back, nails dragging lightly down his skin, and he groaned into my neck.

“I could live inside you,” he whispered, voice frayed and hungry. “Make you fall apart like this every godsdamned day, until you never doubt who you belong to.”

“Yes, yes, Anton, please… again…”

“Anything, darling.” He thrust harder, faster now. The headboard hit the wall in a steady rhythm, and I moaned—louder, freer—feeling myself spiral again.

I came around him with a cry, and this time, he didn’t hold back. He moaned my name like it was sacred, like it was his, and thrust one last time as he came with me, deep and hot.

And then he stilled—shaking, breath ragged, body trembling against mine.

He didn’t move. Just rested there, forehead pressed to mine, lips brushing mine as we both tried to catch our breath.

“Rowena…” he murmured, voice barely audible. “I can’t feel my legs.”

I smiled, eyes fluttering shut as my fingers curled against his chest. “Good.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around me, careful as he rolled us onto our sides, still connected, still joined. My legs tangled with his, and I exhaled into the crook of his neck.

Sleep tugged at me, warm and heavy.

He stroked my hair, voice velvety smooth against my ear. “I’ve got you.”

And I believed him.

Even as the world blurred and my breathing slowed, I believed him.

Because for once—finally—I felt safe. Whole. Loved.

And I slept.

Still full of him. Still his.

Devastated, as he promised. And I’d let him do it again.