Page 55 of Claim of Blood (Blood Bound #1)

The second blow landed on the same spot before the first had faded. Then a third, deliberate, exacting, each strike falling across his bare cheeks with punishing force.

Each blow drove out thought, resistance, everything but the burning sting and Adam’s voice.

“Stop fighting me,” Adam said, his hand coming down again. “Stop thinking.”

Lander gritted his teeth, his breath hitching.

“I’m not—”

Adam’s hand came down harder, cutting off his words. “Your body knows what it wants. Why won’t you listen?”

Each strike layered on the last, burning into him. Lander gripped the sheets like a lifeline, knuckles white. His cock betrayed him, heavy and leaking between his thighs.

“Let go,” Adam said again, voice unshaken.

“No,” Lander gasped. But it was already too late.

Something snapped—not his will, but the scaffolding of pride he’d built around it. A choked sob escaped him, involuntary and raw. His shoulders sagged. His body melted into the sheets.

“There,” Adam murmured, landing another stinging slap. “There it is.”

Lander’s face pressed into the mattress, tears sliding sideways into the fabric, his split lip staining it dark. He stopped counting. The pain stopped being pain; it was rhythm. A drumbeat. It emptied him out.

When Adam stopped, Lander was trembling. His ass was scorched and aching, thighs quivering. But the chaos in his head had gone silent. All that remained was heat, breath, and the presence behind him.

Adam’s hand stroked over him gently now. “So good for me.”

The praise made Lander’s chest tighten, something warm and treacherously sweet curling low in his gut. He heard the soft click of the lube cap, the wet sound of slicked fingers, and for the first time, he didn’t flinch.

Didn’t tense. Didn’t try to run.

He just stayed.

“You’re beautiful like this,” Adam said, voice gone quiet and reverent, one hand still gently soothing the overheated skin of Lander’s ass. “When you stop fighting what you need.”

A cool finger traced lazy circles around Lander’s entrance, drawing a shiver that skated up his spine. The teasing was maddening, not because it was cruel, but because it was patient. Earnest. Worshipful.

Then Adam pressed in.

Lander gasped, his body stiffening at the intrusion. But the pain didn’t spike. It rolled slow, blending with the heat of his skin, with the raw throb left by Adam’s earlier assault.

“Breathe,” Adam murmured. His free hand splayed across Lander’s lower back, grounding him with steady pressure. “Let me in.”

Lander exhaled shakily, willing himself to soften, to stop bracing for a war he’d already lost. His thighs trembled with effort, his forehead pressed to the sheets, sweat cooling against the cotton.

“That’s it.” Adam’s voice curved around him. A second finger slipped inside, slow and unrelenting. The stretch stung, but Lander didn’t pull away. Couldn’t. His body was no longer listening to the part of his mind that still clung to defiance.

“Gods,” Lander breathed, burying his face in the mattress. He wasn’t sure if it was a curse or a prayer.

The stretch burned, pleasure and pain twining together.

Lander buried his face deeper in the sheets, ashamed of the sounds escaping his throat—needy, desperate sounds he couldn’t control.

The fingers moved with devastating precision—scissoring, stretching, curling.

When they brushed that spot inside him, Lander’s hips jerked, a helpless sound tearing from his throat.

“Why fight what feels good?” Adam’s tone was maddeningly calm. “Why deny yourself?”

“Because—” Lander gasped, his voice breaking apart under the weight of his own honesty. “I’m supposed to be in control.”

Adam chuckled, low and knowing. “Not here. Not with me.”

A third finger slid in, pushing the burn to the edge of the unbearable. Lander whimpered, every muscle in his body tensing, then giving. His hips pressed back on instinct, desperate for more, for fullness, for the pressure that drove out thought and left only sensation.

“You see?” Adam said, brushing a kiss against Lander’s shoulder. “Your body knows.”

And it did. Lander’s cock throbbed, heavy between his thighs, leaking. His pulse roared in his ears, every nerve ending on fire. He no longer had the strength to pretend otherwise.

When Adam finally withdrew his fingers, Lander let out a sound that was almost a sob. The absence ached.

“Look at me,” Adam ordered.

Lander turned his head, meeting Adam’s gaze over his shoulder. Something in those ancient eyes made his breath catch. Power. Possession. And beneath it, something terrifyingly gentle. Something like tenderness.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” Adam said, voice rough with need. “And you’re going to let me.”

It wasn’t a question. It was gravity. Inevitable. Irrefutable.

Adam pushed forward, breaching him in one slow, relentless thrust. Lander cried out as his body stretched to take the intrusion. It was too much. Not enough. Too slow. Too perfect.

His fingers clawed at the sheets, the burn and fullness making his thoughts scatter like birds.

When Adam bottomed out, they both stilled. Lander could feel every inch of him, could feel Adam’s heartbeat pulsing in sync with his own. It rooted him. Undid him.

“Mine,” Adam growled, hands gripping Lander’s hips tight enough to bruise.

Then he began to move.

Each thrust drove the air from Lander’s lungs, punched stars into his vision, made his whole body rock forward with the force. The stretch, the pressure, the relentless rhythm, it was maddening. Liberating. Blissful.

“Yes,” Lander gasped, the word torn from somewhere deep and terrified and true. “Yes.”

Adam’s hand fisted in his hair, hauling him up onto his knees. The new position made Lander arch, made Adam drive deeper. The angle hit something; he cried out, breath stuttering.

“Stay right there,” Adam commanded, his voice thick with control and reverence. His grip tightened on Lander’s hip, anchoring him, owning him.

Lander’s head fell back against Adam’s shoulder, his throat bare and vulnerable. Adam leaned in, lips brushing the skin of his neck like a lover and a predator both.

Then Adam stilled. His rhythm faltered.

A gentle finger traced the faint marks on Lander’s throat. The touch made him freeze, shame and fear cutting cold through the molten heat.

“These are...” Adam’s voice dropped, uncertain.

Lander tried to pull away, but Adam’s arm locked around him, dragging him back. The movement buried Adam even deeper, made Lander gasp as his body jolted.

“Are they mine?” Adam asked softly against his ear.

Lander managed a tight nod, unable to speak.

Adam started moving again, slower this time. “Miraculous,” he whispered.

Power rolled off him, thick and electric, crackling around them like a storm.

“Mine,” Adam growled again, this time with teeth. They grazed the mark.

His pace turned savage.

“Say it.”

“Yours,” Lander breathed. “I’m yours.”

Adam’s fangs sank into the old mark, claiming him again. The pain fused with pleasure, igniting something inside Lander that exploded outward, shattering him from the inside.

He came with a hoarse cry, whole body seizing, cock pulsing untouched. Adam followed a heartbeat later, grinding deep and spilling into him with a guttural sound.

They collapsed together, tangled and panting, Adam’s weight a heavy, grounding presence. Lander couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Could only feel.

Eventually, Adam rolled to the side, pulling Lander with him, still buried deep, their bodies joined. One arm wrapped tight around Lander’s waist.

Possessive.

Unyielding.

Safe.

“I didn’t expect that,” Lander admitted, voice small in the quiet room.

Adam’s chuckle rumbled against his back. “I did.” Adam eased away, his movements gentle. “Don’t move,” he ordered, pressing a kiss to Lander’s shoulder blade.

Lander sank into the mattress, too drained to disobey. He heard water running in the bathroom, the sound lasting longer than expected. When Adam returned, his face was clean, the dried blood washed away, and he carried a warm washcloth.

“Let me,” Adam said.

The cloth moved over Lander’s skin with surprising tenderness, cleaning away the evidence of their encounter—blood from his split lip, sweat from their struggle, tears that had mixed with both.

Adam worked methodically, turning him carefully to wipe his stomach and chest with the same attentive care.

Halfway through, Adam paused, looking at the thoroughly soiled cloth, then at Lander’s still-messy state.

“I may have underestimated the scope of this project,” Adam said dryly.

Despite everything, Lander let out a surprised huff of laughter—rusty and unused, but real. “Just one washcloth? Amateur.”

Adam’s lips quirked as he produced a second cloth from behind his back. “I came prepared for round two of cleanup.” He continued his ministrations, this time with a slight smile. “You’re quite thorough when you fall apart.”

“Shut up,” Lander muttered, but there was no heat in it, and his mouth twitched at the corners.

When Adam finished, he tossed both cloths aside and slid his arms beneath Lander’s body.

“What are you doing?” Lander asked, suddenly alert.

Adam lifted him effortlessly. “Taking you to bed.”

“I have a bed,” Lander protested, face heating as he found himself cradled against Adam’s chest. He felt ridiculous. He was taller than Adam, his long limbs awkward in the bridal carry.

“Our bed,” Adam corrected, carrying him through the hidden door that connected their rooms.

The master bedroom was dimly lit, only a bedside lamp casting a soft glow. Leo lay sleeping on his side, his features peaceful in repose.

Adam deposited Lander gently on the empty side of the mattress. Before Lander could move, Leo stirred, eyes opening briefly before closing again. With a soft sound, Leo rolled toward him, arms wrapping around Lander’s waist, face pressing against his chest.

“He’s a clinger,” Adam explained. “Has been since the beginning.”

Lander froze, unsure how to respond to the unexpected contact. Leo nuzzled closer, seemingly unbothered by Lander’s tension.

The mattress dipped as Adam slid in behind Lander, one arm draping over his waist, hand resting on Leo’s hip.

“Sleep,” Adam murmured against the back of Lander’s neck. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Sandwiched between them, Lander felt his eyelids grow heavy. Despite his intention to stay awake and think through the implications of what had happened, exhaustion pulled him under.

His last conscious thought was how right it felt, caught between these two bodies. One warm with humanity, one cool with ancient power. Like coming home to something he never knew he was missing.