Page 76 of Even Vampires Bleed (Even Ever After #2)

Cassiopé

I thought I dreamed the effect Léandre’s blood had on me the last time I drank from him— you know, with the fact that I had lost a lot of my own blood— but it’s even better than I remember.

Again, I had lost a lot of blood that day and maybe my mind wasn’t really right.

It feels like all my nerve endings have been zapped, and I feel electrified—like my body is now full of energy.

The hunger I felt when I woke up? It’s all gone, and I’m filled with so much more now.

I hear Léandre groan against me, and he presses against me like there’s nothing else on his mind.

Does it feel as good for him as it feels for me?

I don’t have time to ask him, because I feel him remove us from against the door and then he sits on the side of the bed, with me on my lap.

I remove my fangs from his throat and he groans, but stops me when I try to go back to the cut again.

“Firefly, if you drink from me again, I’m going to need to be buried inside of you,” he tells me in a rough voice. “I really want to taste you first. ”

I lick my lips before raising my arms in the air.

If he wants me, he’s going to have me.

I’m not waiting anymore.

The world could fall apart outside, but I’m not waiting another day.

Or another minute.

Or even another second.

He removes my shirt, whips his own with a single hand, and then his lips are back on mine, and his hands are on my breasts like he doesn’t want to wait anymore, either.

He can taste his own blood on my lips and a small part of my mind wonders if it is okay, but then he nibbles on my lower lip, and with a bit more pressure, pierces the skin with his canine.

My blood mixes with his on our lips, and it feels decadent.

When our mouths finally part, his lips are stained red, and it makes me want to kiss him even more.

“Even vampires bleed,” he says with a chuckle, and I want to be mad, but he grabs me by the hips and shifts our position so my back is now on the bed. He looks down at me with my legs still wrapped around his hips.

“You’re beautiful,” he tells me with awe in his eyes, and there is no way I’m not believing him with the way he’s devouring me with his eyes. “But as much as I like you wrapped around me, you’re going to have to remove your legs or I’ll have to tear your shorts away with my bare hands.”

As much as that idea turns me on, I comply and let him remove my shorts.

If our kisses had some urgency to them, it’s all gone.

Now it feels like Léandre wants to savor the fact that we’re finally together—I know, the fault is mostly mine—and I can’t agree more.

He takes all his time to look at me, and I’m seconds away from squirming from how tight my body is strung and how much I need him.

But I made him wait. I left him in the middle of the night when he was finally opening up and even if I had my reasons, I give him that.

I give him the opportunity to stare at my naked body when he’s still almost completely dressed, and all I want is for him to touch me instead of just looking at me.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says a second time before he kneels at the edge of the bed.

I rise onto my forearms and look at him from above.

“Are you going to keep staring, or are you finally going to eat me out?” I ask with a bit of sass.

“So demanding,” he says, amused.

He grabs my right knee and I think he’s going to make me open my legs more, but instead he kisses the inside of my knee and then keeps trailing open mouth kisses up my thigh, smearing some of our combined blood on me.

When he reaches my pussy, he doesn’t even stop and kiss me there. Instead, he drops my knee to the side and turns his head to do the same on the inside of my other thigh.

I’m squirming.

I’m so freaking hot and wet.

And so freaking needy.

I want his mouth on me.

I want it like I want my next breath.

But he’s having none of that, having decided to take his time.

And torture me.

Yes, this is torture.

This is payback, because we could have been together long ago, I’m sure of it.

I hear him chuckle against my skin, and then he brings my knee to his shoulder.

“So fucking wet for me,” he whispers before he grabs my other leg and brings it to his shoulder.

“Now, scream for me, Firefly,” he says as he blows on my clit and then dives in.

His words barely register as I’m already a moaning mess.

He grips my butt cheeks and lifts me up so it’s easier for him, but damn, he devours me like a starving man.

Alternating between licking my pussy like it’s his favorite meal and sucking on my clit like he could swallow it all.

I moan his name. I pant his name. And surely I scream it, too, because by the time my body’s pleasure climbs in a crescendo and explodes, leaving my entire body convulsing against his mouth, my voice is raw and scratchy.

Léandre releases my legs—that probably tried to crush his head when I came—and looks at me again.

“Look how beautiful you are when you come with my name on your lips,” he says and his tone is almost smug, but it’s also full of wonder, like he can’t believe I’m here with him.

Like he can’t believe he just made me come.

“Come here now,” I say as I grab the top of his pants and open them. “So I can come with your cock inside of me, too.”

I don’t know if it’s the blood I took from him that’s making me so bold, but he seems to like it because his eyes flare and only seconds later, his shoes, pants and boxer briefs are discarded.