Page 28

Twenty-Five

ALEC

Take her. Claim her. Make her ours.

Instincts consume, battling with my inner demons—the desires that have driven me to this point.

Kill her. End her. End all this.

If only I didn’t bite her, I’d never know what I believe I’ve suspected all along. Looking back, it all makes so much fucking sense. The way her blood—cure aside—smelled so delectable. The way I couldn’t truly harm her. The numbness I felt when finding her lethargic in the cell. Reflexes buried knew I had to protect her…even if I didn’t understand why.

My fingers sink inside her, and her back bows with a guttural sigh. She’s unbelievably tight. A virgin? Fuck, I hope so. To find out my Bride will know me and me alone satisfies the basest parts of the monster within. And to taste virgin blood…that would be a first.

Even the thought makes me groan, my hunger for her never to be satisfied.

“Beg,” I command, stroking two fingers inside her core, stretching her.

Beg me to stop.

Beg me to save us.

“Please,” she murmurs, not at all understanding I needed her to beg to end this.

Hatred and lust pour into my touch as her legs fall farther apart. It’s like this I study my Bride; the blood painted across her chest, the bite marks on her neck, everything declaring her as mine . Everything that’ll ensure she never leaves.

Fuck, I hate you. Even thinking the words makes my head ache, because the drive to keep her safe and protected won’t allow me to hate her. But it’s not her I hate. Not anymore. Maybe not ever. She’s always intrigued me above all others of her family.

“Say no.”

Her shattered breathing tells me yes , which only pisses me off.

“Tell me no,” I demand. Tell me no so I can stop this before you hate me. Before you believe I’ve forced you.

“No…don’t stop.”

Damn you, Hellion.

An emotion weaves through me, one that’s new, drifting along the connection—the bond—that’s fragmented but slowly linking into place between Harlow and me, like a ribbon being laid, a spell being cast. Slow and steady, the mating bond forms.

From it, emotions that are not my own drift towards me. It’s her—her feelings that, when I focus, I’ll be able to feel as though they’re my own. The link that’ll allow me to sense her, to know when she needs to be cared for or protected. For now, only one-sided.

I search through the wave coming from her unknowingly into me, seeking distaste, hatred, or some other negativity, but find nothing. A fact as troubling as everything else. Uneasiness, uncertainty, but not fright as her craving grows as strong as mine is.

That, too, satisfies me. Last thing I want is for her to be with me out of fear.

“Alec, please.” She bucks into my hand, and I’m utterly fucked. The sight of her, all sprawled open, her skin darkening as the blood rushes through her body…it’s heady. She’s beautiful, her expression twisting as she chases pleasure.

So I stop thinking about the past and present that got us here, the bond being positioned between us. Stop considering anything but her and her pleasure. And my own desire to taste her everywhere.

“Please what?” I ask, settling into position. “You asking to come, Hellion? Is that what you need?”

“Yes.”

Ducking down, I swipe my tongue over her clit, ending her hissed response. The liquid flowing from her pussy is greater than divinity, as guessed. There’s nothing on Earth, besides maybe her blood, that is more appealing. There’s something mystical to the flavour, as though invented in Heaven by the angels themselves, except Heaven is so far out of reach for us both.

“Your fucking taste…” My mumble remains unfinished, no words quite able to describe it.

I lick her while fucking her with my fingers, my other hand resting on her hip to still her movements. I have to maintain dominance over her before she makes me lose myself entirely, as my control is getting shredded with every little gasp, moan, and cry she releases from her pretty little throat.

I must claim her, that much I’m aware. If I don’t fuck her and satisfy the mate bond, it’ll remain unfinished and eventually drive me to madness.

Unless she fights me. Tells me no. It’s a fine line, because no matter how much I need to claim her, the monster inside me won’t be able to hurt her. In the end, my Bride has the ultimate choice.

And she’s choosing wrong…

I swipe my tongue over her clit again as my fingers slow, teasing her insides, not letting her come yet. Not until I get my fangs in her thigh. I nuzzle the area until her breath hikes before piercing her skin and sliding my teeth cleanly inside.

“Yes,” she groans, her thighs clamping around my head, but I force them back to the bed.

With her juices on my tongue and her blood in my mouth, my cock is painfully hard, eager to bury itself inside her. But she has to come like this. Just like this. I need it.

Once again, I press into the sensitive spot inside her, and she bucks into my hand, her thighs pushing against my grip. Her moan fills my room, a sound my immortal memory will savour for days, months, even years, to come. Her cunt clamps down as I finger-fuck her through her orgasm. I drink harder, my tongue massaging her thigh as blood flows freely, a part of me demanding I stay right here for the rest of the night.

She’s panting when I unhook my fangs and slide my fingers from her. I rise up, needing to see for myself she’s okay, and am greeted with a tentative smile.

“That was…um.” Her cheeks go red. Harlow’s almost too beautiful for her own good.

Harlow.

From the moment I realized what she is to me, she stopped being Sinclair.

She’s my Hellion. My Harlow.

I can’t respond. Words refuse to formulate into sentences that’ll actually be comprehensible to her.

I move off her and the bed, stripping my clothes quickly, the material an irritating barrier between our bodies. Longing pulses through me, my gaze bouncing between her face and her pussy, my cock twitching at the sight of both. But utterly undone when she bites her bottom lip.

Take her.

Claim her.

My Bride.

Once stripped, I rejoin her on the bed— my bed. She’s the first in centuries to ever be here.

And the last.

I readjust her body farther up the mattress, and the monster inside rumbles in contentment when she doesn’t fight me positioning her arms above her head. My fingers stroke against her scars, a fresh hatred pouring into me, more intense now than when Freya explained them.

She needs to stop being so perfectly submissive before both our lives are forever changed.

No—she must submit. She needs to let me take her. She has to become mine. Fully, completely, utterly mine. I must devour every part of her. Every tear she’ll ever shed. Every smile. Every laugh. Every drop of blood.

All.

Fucking.

Mine.

“You okay?”

Her question nudges my consciousness, and my teeth, pressed together so tightly, slowly unclamp as I return to the present. Return to her . Always her. Forever her.

Fuck, I can’t do this.

“Yes,” I manage, while begging her to see inside my head. To feel my emotions as I do hers. Her curiosity, her desire, her nerves. It’s all too much.

Stop me, Harlow.

Submit to me, Harlow.

The two thoughts battle one another until there’s a clear victor. Until my grip tightens and I position her arms even higher, making her back bow. She’s completely subservient, the monster inside me thrilled to be able to take her, consequences be damned.

And there will be consequences. A whole fucking load of them.

I position myself between her legs, my cock brushing her wet core, but I don’t enter her. Not yet. Not until I look her in the face and see her thoughts for myself.

She stares back expectant—hopeful.

I’m undone.

I’m fucked.

We’re fucked.

Stroking along her pussy again, I coat myself in her cum before nudging my head inside her. Her breath catches. She’s tight but stretches, her shoulders rolling into the pillow, tugging her wrists.

I grip tighter, my teeth snapping. “Submit, Hellion.”

She immediately stops moving, and I search the bond, finding apprehension as her eyes eventually reopen. “Are you going to kill me?”

“No.”

“Are you planning on releasing me?”

Never. But I can’t tell her that. She has to stay close, protected, and in my bed for the rest of eternity.

I bottom out inside her, pulling out only once to coat my cock. She takes all of me easily without threat of a barrier, which makes me want to kill something— someone —whoever’s been inside her in the past.

For now, I thrust, bouncing her head against the pillow, and her pile of red hair spilling everywhere captures my attention. She looks right here, like this bed was made for her.

“Fuck, you feel fantastic.”

She only moans in response, pushing her hips against mine and matching me stroke for stroke, her own thrusts getting harder, quicker. She’s perfect.

I bend over, grasp her neck, and haul her upright, taking her mouth in a single rough kiss. She kisses me back before I pull away and slide my teeth into one of the bite marks on her neck. Her pussy clamps down tighter, her head falling back with a whine. She’s limp in my arms, thighs bracketing mine as I continue pushing into her.

Nails scrape my lower arms, the faint pain urging me to suck harder, urging more blood into my mouth. There’s never enough, and there will never be enough.

Mark me, Hellion. Make me yours.

I drink faster, harder, my orgasm creeping closer, and that does it for her. She goes stiff in my arms, her pussy clamping tight.

“Alec… fuck . I’m coming, I’m coming…I’m?—”

I remove my fangs from her skin to speak. “You’re doing so good, Harlow. You feel amazing. Can you come again, my beautiful witch? All for me. All fucking mine.”

She has no idea what she truly agrees to when, in between heavy breaths, she manages to nod. Blood trickles from her throat over her shoulder, and a drop plummets to the sheets, laying her claim upon this bed as surely as her soul has to mine.

I flip us over, sitting on the edge of the bed with her on my lap. Her hair tumbles over her shoulder, but she’s quick to push it away. My hands tighten around her waist, pulling her down on me while I thrust up. Like this, the normal lavender of her eyes darkens with lust, and her lips part as she tries to speak, only for her attempt to be quickly stolen by a low gasp.

“You’re deep,” she finally manages to whisper.

“Mhm.” Not sure I’m capable of speaking as my gaze latches onto her neck and my numerous bite marks. I want more. I want her blood as she orgasms around me.

I fist her breasts, bringing them up to my mouth. She watches, breathless, as I flick my tongue against both nipples and drag a fang along one, teasing the possibility.

“You want this?” I pause, waiting for her response, half expecting a no , except a breathless little “Yes,” comes instead.

Keeping her gaze, I take a nipple into my mouth, lapping the nub as my fangs score the upper side of her breast before pushing down. She gasps, her eyes clamping shut in pain. Her hips stop moving, but I finish my bite, sucking very little blood in my mouth as I wait for her pain to pass.

“It’s good,” she whispers after a moment, a nod encouraging me to continue.

I have to be careful. Between her escape, sex, and the blood I’ve consumed from her, she’s bound to be weakening soon.

But until she shows signs, I suck, my tongue flicking her nipple while drinking. I keep an arm around her waist and hold her tight, fucking her as deep and fast as her body will take.

My Bride.

It’s a marvel. She’s a marvel. The entire fact she’s my mate.

But it’s also the worst thing that could have happened to either of us.

“I hate you,” I murmur into her skin, the pressure building at the base of my cock.

But I don’t hate her. I hate Elizabeth Sinclair for murdering Cora. I hate whichever Sinclair witch made Harlow become my downfall. I hate Violet and Arthur Hartman for lying to my Bride and murdering her real family. I hate this situation…but not her.

“I hate you too,” she murmurs in return. “It’s why I ran.”

I lift from her breast to look her in the face, to admit as much as I’m able to. “You fucked up when you did. You have no idea what you’ve done. If you didn’t run, I wouldn’t have attacked.”

Her hips still, her body leaning backwards into my arm. “Are you seriously blaming me?”

My free hand weaves through her hair, keeping her in place should she attempt to leave. “Yes, because you were placed in my life to wreck everything.”

“Wreck every—” Her words cut off when I slam her down harder. “What…did…I…wre?—”

Her body bows, this time interrupting her own question. Her hair brushes the back of my arm as she goes motionless, her body tense and convulsing around my cock. With her orgasm, mine won’t be held back any longer.

I bury my head into her shoulder, tongue laving over a bite mark as I shoot inside her, groaning into her skin. Marking her inside and out with me .

No one will ever go near her.

No one will ever look at her.

No one will ever touch her.

She’s mine.

All. Fucking. Mine.

Now and forever. For eternity.

As my orgasm slows and she’s coming down from hers, her body going lax in my arms, I drag my nose up the column of her throat, smelling a combination of me and her. Of the cure, nature, everything forbidden in the world.

For the first time in centuries, I relax, turning us to rest against the pillows. It’s my little Hellion’s new permanent place, even if she’s unaware.

I have to tell her.

Now. Soon. Eventually.

She looks utterly disheveled. A mess from her run, from being attacked in the woods, from our fucking.

She looks like mine .

The one in this blasted, eternal world who can end my immortal soul by a single act of her own hand.

The one who’s now forced to walk in the shadows with me for the rest of our lives.

The one whom my entire body is attuned into. To protect, care for, be whatever she needs from me.

Fuck. My head thumps. Seeing Harlow—a goddamn Sinclair—in my bed is everything wrong. It’s everything right…but it’s also everything that should never be.

Only bliss comes through the bond as she smiles up at me. Her happiness is too much. She should hate me. Hate me so I can actually hate her in return and attempt to end this fucking connection—if such a thing is possible.

Protect. Keep her.

Has there been a situation of a vampire ending a bond with their Bride? I haven’t heard of one, but it must be possible. Must be…or I’ll go mad. I can’t keep her.

Even considering the possibility of breaking the bond makes my insides churn, a feeling I’ve never had during my life as an immortal. But she makes me weak.

She’s also a weakness I’m stuck with.