Page 63 of Bitten & Burned

Thirty-Three

FILTHY

Kravenspire, Sol, Verdune

Though the entire ordeal was only a few hours through the woods, I had severely pushed myself beyond what I should have, and Quil ended up having to carry me as we drew nearer to Halemont.

Once we’d arrived, I had gone straight to bed—after greeting and hugging everyone, of course.

It had all honestly been a blur of movement, of voices.

Of worries and fears. Of hugs and kisses.

But then Anton slipped his arm around my shoulder and steered me back to my room.

He tucked me in and promptly climbed into bed with me, holding me against his chest.

Quil moved to follow.

“Give me some space, lover-boy,” Anton said. “You’ve spent the last few days in a cave with her. I just want some time alone.”

“Quil, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I promised, and he had gone, though he’d lingered at the door before leaving.

Sleep came quickly, wrapped in Anton’s arms, his lips pressing to my temples like he couldn’t believe I was still here.

“I love you, my darling… don’t you ever do this to me again…”

The sun dipped low, painting the settee where I was lying in gold while I balanced a cup of tea in one hand and scratched behind Fig’s warm ears with the other. The conservatory got great sun at this time of day, and I loved taking advantage of it while the coven slept.

A throw blanket had fallen to the floor earlier; I tugged it back over my waist as I settled myself on the sofa with my cat and my tea. Finally comfortable. Finally content.

I watched the sun fade into cooler gray moonlight, stretching across the floor. My candles flickered—I glanced up and saw him. Quil. Standing before my fireplace. Shoulders tight, jaw ticking.

In contrast to the gentle energy I’d been cultivating that evening, Quil radiated anxiety. Frustration…even anger?

I swallowed my tea and set the cup down.

“Quil? What’s wrong?”

The bond surged—sharp and staccato, sparking like static as he swallowed hard.

“I wanted to… sleep in your bed last night, but it’s okay that you didn’t, but… by Camarae, Rowena…I was scared when you were taken…”

I blinked. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he growled, but let his shoulders slump again, “You almost died.”

“I know, but I—”

“You almost died,” he repeated, moving closer, reaching for me, dragging my hand to his chest, where his heart beat slowly, but steadily.

“You are my heart, Rowena,” he ground out, his voice breaking on my name. “You are the blood in my veins. And if you die? I’m gone.”

“Quil, gods…I can’t be the only thing keeping you—”

“Alive?” he finished, a humorless chuckle tearing out of him. “No. But you’re the thing keeping me… me. And I’m not sorry about that. Without you, I’m just…a vampire. An animal. Feral. With you, I’m someone. I’m soft. I’m gentle. I’m someone’s.”

“Quil, I know I did something stupid—‘

“It wasn’t stupid. That’s the thing. You didn’t do anything wrong. Still, there’s nothing you can say that will take away the way my heart broke when I realized you were in danger.”

I sniffed, a tear pooling in the corner of my eye.

“Gods, I can’t stop thinking about it. About you, lying in that cell, in too much pain to cry. Calling for me.” His chin quivered. “I can’t stop.”

His shoulders were tight, every line of him sharp and taut, like they had been before the bond. Before I knew how soft he could be. But he was shaking.

“You have to learn that not everyone is good like you,” he whispered. “You can’t trust them to do the right things. Most people aren’t good. And I want you to stay like this—soft and warm. I need you to stay. I need you not to go anywhere alone. I can’t protect you if you do. I need you to—obey.”

His eyes flashed when he said it.

And if they hadn’t, I might have been upset with him for saying it in the first place. But gods—the way he looked at me. The fucking heat in his gaze. The way those eyes dragged over every inch of my body until I could feel it. Fuck, it felt good.

Too good. Like phantom magic sparking in my fingertips, good.

“Obey?” I murmured, shifting so I could rise on my knees. He was close, close enough to touch. “You want me to obey?” I whispered, tugging on his hand. I pressed my lips against his throat, wetting the skin with my tongue. Blowing on it to watch him shiver.

“Rowena…”

“I know. You want me to obey. But I…I want you to make me.”

His eyes darkened, his lips parted as he ran his tongue over his fangs.

“You want me to make you?”

I nodded, reaching up to start unbuttoning my sweater. “Lock the door.”

He growled and tore himself away from me, closing and locking the door before returning to my side.

“Floor,” he growled.

“Couch is more comfortable.”

He threaded his fingers through my hair, wrapping it around his fist and yanking my head back to bare my throat. “I said… floor.”

I scrambled to obey him, crawling onto the floor as he unbuttoned his shirt, practically ripping it off as he knelt beside me on the carpet.

I shoved my sweater off, feeling the seams pop as I let it fall and tossed it aside. My hands went to my skirt, but his stopped me, hard and pressing. He pulled them from my clothing, sliding in close, and he held them both behind my back, forcing my chest forward.

He dropped his head to my shoulder, lips pressing softly against my skin.

“Are you sure you want this? That you want this side of me?”

“Quil,” I murmured. “Do you remember that first time you bit me?”

He inhaled sharply. “Rowena… I—”

“Do you remember before you lost control?” I pressed on;my point was necessary, even if it caused momentary discomfort.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Tell me about it.”

“Rowena,” he protested.

“Quil, please.”

He sighed heavily and began kissing my neck softly along my throat. My jaw. “You were wrapped around me.”

“Mmmhmm,” I hummed, squirming at the memory. “And then what?”

“Getting there,” he chuckled. “You were wrapped around me, you shoved up your skirt so there wouldn’t be any barriers, and you rubbed yourself against me.”

“Against you where?”

He groaned again, scooting closer. “My cock.”

“Mmhmm, and then what?”

His breath came out strangled. “You gonna make me say it?”

“Yes.”

“You rubbed on my cock and you came. Right there. Against me. Shook completely apart.”

“And why was that?”

“Gods, Rowena… you’re going to kill me.”

“Good. Tell me why I came, Quil.”

“Because I bit you.”

“Yes, I came hard against you because you bit me and you manhandled me and you let me rub against your hard cock.” He groaned, his hand tightening against both of mine. I whimpered softly. “Tell me what that means, Quil.”

“It means you want me. Like this. That it gets you off when I’m rough.”

“Mmhmm.”

“So if I’m rough…”

“I’m gonna come so hard for you.”

He moaned softly before he met my lips, hard, painful. Sharp.

He released my hands, but as soon as I reached for him, he pressed them back, over my head, as I slid down to the floor.

“Keep them there…” he growled, rucking up my skirt and hooking his fingers in my slip shorts.

He didn’t ask; he just tore them off, leaving me panting and wet and bare to his gaze.

“So wet for me already, sweetheart…”

I wriggled against him, earning myself a sharp slap to my inner thigh. I inhaled sharply, and his eyes bore into mine.

“Keep it up,” he warned. “It’ll be your clit next.”

I swore, trying to obey but also wanting that punishment more than anything.

“You’re going to come when I get you there,” he whispered. “No rushing. No resisting. You take it and you’ll come. Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” I whispered, shivering with how much I wanted him.

He pushed my legs apart, kneeling between them, then he reached for the button on his trousers, ripping it open harshly and shoving the material down over his hips.

His cock sprang free, bobbing slightly, dark and flushed. I whimpered, and he pushed my legs far apart, lining up and pushing in without warning.

I was so wet, he slid right in, and his groan was indecent, the slick slide of him bottoming out.

“Fuck, you’re perfect…” he moaned.

He gripped my hips, hauled them up in the air as he set a pace that practically stole my breath, and then he shifted until he had me bent in half, slamming into me as I struggled both to breathe and not to come apart.

He was everywhere…

I let my head hit the floor, and I groaned, “Quil…”

“That’s right, sweetheart, say it, scream it. Let everyone know who’s in charge of you, Rowena.”

“Quil…”

“Fuck, that’s good,” he moaned, his rhythm stammering as he slammed into me harder and harder. I felt my body rise and rise, cresting once, and bringing me back down again.

I sobbed into the air, my hands above my head, while Quil pounded into me. “Gods Quil, I’m…”

“I know, I can feel it, your tight little cunt squeezing me. Gods, you’re so perfect, so tight and warm around me…”

My hips slammed into his; the sounds were obscene and filled the room, and then I felt it. Hot and wet. He thrust into me. Hard. So hard, and then he grunted, his hips faltering as he finished.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he hissed. “So fucking perfect…”

He slid out, still fully erect. “On your knees, Rowena.”

I scrambled to obey, and I even put my hands behind my back.

He was still hard, desperately so, and dripping.

“Clean me off first, sweetheart…”

I did, licking him and me off his skin as he held himself still like an offering.

“We’re going to start again slow, but you’re taking every inch, do you hear me?”

I nodded.

“Words.”

“Yes. Every inch.”

He smirked and ran his fingers through my hair, gripping it and pushing me forward onto his cock.

He fed it to me slowly, just like he said he would, inch by inch.

“Gods, your mouth…” Quil moaned softly. “Thought about doing this since I met you.”

I looked up at him, surprised.