Page 12 of Claim of Blood (Blood Bound #1)

Leo’s legs trembled as he stood, muscles protesting after sitting curled for so long. Adam’s arm slipped around his waist, steadying him. The contact shouldn’t have felt as natural as it did.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had offered this kind of simple support.

The von Rothenburg way was to power through discomfort, to never show weakness.

Even as children, skinned knees and twisted ankles were met with stern reminders to maintain composure.

Felix might squeeze his shoulder after a rough training session, but anything more was seen as coddling.

The absurdity of the situation hit him. After twenty-three years of rigid family standards, hunter training, and a serious lack of long-term relationships, it would be a vampire who first showed him this kind of unthinking care.

Adam Matthews. The First Son. One of the most dangerous creatures in existence had just slipped an arm around him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Leo fought down a slightly hysterical laugh. His ancestors were probably rolling in their graves.

The hallway outside the council chamber hummed with the comfortable energy of a space well-used by its community.

Wooden floors, worn smooth by countless footsteps over the years, stretched before them.

The high ceilings were adorned with simple pendant lights that cast warm pools of light, making the underground space feel less like a tunnel and more like a favorite old library or community center.

The walls were a gallery of the Court’s history—not the formal oil paintings Leo might have expected, but a mix of photographs, local artwork, and personal mementos.

He spotted decades of group photos, newspaper clippings preserved behind glass, even a few framed concert posters from shows at the Moulin Coeur.

The alcoves spaced along the walls held sturdy, comfortable furniture—the kind meant to be used rather than just looked at. Some sofas showed signs of recent reupholstering, while others proudly wore their worn patches like badges of honor.

They passed several alcoves that were occupied.

Leo felt the weight of curious stares, heard the whispered conversations that followed in their wake.

His face burned as he realized what he must look like—shirtless, disheveled, practically plastered to Adam’s side. The vampire’s arm tightened around him.

“The main corridors run directly under the streets above,” Adam explained, gesturing to where a wider hallway intersected with theirs. “They’re about twelve feet wide to accommodate golf carts—makes it easier for mortal Court members to get around.”

Leo noticed signs mounted at the junction, pointing the way to various destinations: Rec Center, Grocery, Pool, Lounge, Bar.

“How much of this is there?” he asked, fascinated despite himself.

“Miles,” Adam replied. “The Court has been expanding since...” He paused as Leo stumbled, catching him easily. “Are you alright?”

Leo wasn’t sure how to answer. His head felt foggy, thoughts sliding sideways the moment he tried to grab hold of them.

The pull toward Adam returned in force. That magnetic, inevitable feeling had him pressing closer with every step.

He could feel his pulse quickening, skin growing hot wherever they touched.

Adam steered him gently toward an empty alcove, his hand a quiet command at Leo’s back. Leo followed without question, too dazed to resist and too desperate to be close. There was concern in Adam’s eyes—but something else, too. Hunger. Tension. As if even he didn’t know what would happen next.

“The compatibility,” he said, brushing Leo’s hair back from his forehead. “It’s affecting you.”

Leo wanted to ask if Adam felt the same way, but the words wouldn’t come. He leaned into the vampire’s touch, seeking more contact. The part of his mind that should have been mortified at his neediness seemed very far away.

Leo’s legs wobbled, his vision blurring at the edges. The memory of their previous encounter in the garage—the intensity of their connection—flashed through his mind. “We’ve already done this once,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

His voice felt small in the alcove’s hush, like a prayer left at an altar. Part of him wanted Adam to say something—anything—but the silence held. All that moved was the heat rising between them.

Without a word, Adam’s hands dropped to Leo’s waist. A swift, sharp tug, and Leo’s pants disintegrated, the sound of tearing fabric slicing through the quiet like a whipcrack. He gasped, shocked, as cool air hit his bare skin. Adam’s hands gripped his hips, fingers digging in.

“I needed those,” Leo managed, voice thin and uneven.

“Not anymore,” Adam replied, low and rough.

The couch creaked. Leo’s eyes snapped open just in time to see Adam sit, legs spread, cock already thick and ready between them. His gaze burned, pinning Leo in place as he pulled him closer.

Adam’s hands found him then, turning Leo with fluid precision—a smooth twist of his body that left him facing away, legs between Adam’s spread thighs. Leo barely had time to catch his breath before Adam’s hands were back at his waist, guiding him down.

No prep. No lube. Just the slick, filthy aftermath of their earlier encounter.

Leo gasped as the blunt head of Adam’s cock pressed against his rim. There was no pause, no hesitation, just a slow, brutal slide inward.

“F-fuck—” Leo choked, back arching, body caught between instinct to flee and the overwhelming, desperate need to be filled.

Adam didn’t stop. One arm banded across Leo’s chest and tightened, pulling him back against a wall of muscle. The pressure was just shy of too much—a warning, a claim, a collar made of flesh and power.

“So fucking open for me,” Adam growled, voice low against his ear. “You were made to be filled like this.”

Leo whimpered, a sound halfway between surrender and begging, as Adam seated himself fully inside, so deep Leo swore he could feel it behind his ribs.

“Look at you,” Adam whispered, his breath hot against Leo’s ear. He nipped at the lobe, then sucked it gently, tongue dragging slow and deliberate. Leo shivered, his head tipping to the side in an unconscious offering.

“Already ruined,” Adam hummed into the space beneath his jaw. “And I haven’t even started.”

The first thrust was deliberate and deep, pulling a cracked sound from Leo’s throat. Then another. And another.

Adam fucked him like he owned the beat of Leo’s heart, each roll of his hips seeming to rewrite something beneath Leo’s skin.

The arm across his chest stayed firm, pressing harder every time Leo squirmed, until each breath became something shallow and precious.

His vision started to blur—not from lack of air, but from too much sensation.

Too much heat. Too much stretch. Too much need.

“Breathe, beauty,” Adam murmured, soothing and savage all at once. “Come on. Take it.”

Leo’s voice was gone—no words, just broken, helpless sounds. He was open. He was held. He was used.

And Leo wanted more.

The shift came suddenly, the air thickening as Adam’s control slipped. Power rolled off him in waves, ancient and wild, making Leo’s mark burn and his blood sing.

The arm across his chest flexed, drawing him back tighter, pressing upward just enough to tilt his head. Leo gave way instinctively, baring his throat without thought.

Then Adam’s fangs sank in.

The world stopped.

Adam drank deeply, like the bond had shattered whatever restraint he’d been holding onto. Each pull sent a new shockwave through Leo’s core—pleasure, pain, need—layering over each other until thought blurred and bled out.

His heartbeat stuttered, synced to the rhythm of Adam’s mouth and the relentless thrust of his hips. There was no room for anything else. Just this. Just him.

He didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to be. He wanted to feel. Wanted to be Adam’s.

Leo hovered on the edge of something vast, tethered only by the weight of Adam’s arms and the drag of his own surrender.

His body seized—cock twitching, breath catching—and then he came hard, shuddering, clenching around Adam as Adam spilled into him again, filling him until Leo could feel it everywhere.

His universe collapsed to fangs in his throat, cock inside him, arms holding him steady as he came. Nothing beyond that. Nothing else mattered.

As the bite softened and the bond thrummed low and satisfied, Leo slumped back, boneless. The last thing he registered was Adam’s breath, ragged and warm against his neck, and the tender sweep of a tongue over his punctures.

Like sealing something holy.

And then: dark.