Page 26 of Kentucky Nights (Dead Man’s Ranch #1)

She keens, the sounds are music to my ears with every melody that I seem to pull from her. I keep her pinned against the window by her throat, adorning one breast before moving my way to the other.

I can’t leave any part of her flesh without my touch. I need my scent all over her. I need every male to know she belongs to me when she steps outside. There will be no question if she has a mate—even if we won’t be fully mated.

My tongue becomes needy, the tip scaling down her stomach, and my taste buds brighten from the taste of her. I fall to my knees when I can’t bend down further. She runs her fingers through my hair as I stare up at her from the floor.

Oh, I do like this position.

On my knees, worshipping my goddess. It doesn’t get more heavenly than that.

I tug my sweatpants from her, tossing them to the side, and my mouth waters when I reveal the trimmed reddish tuft of hair settled on her pussy.

“I need to taste you.” I lift her left leg onto my shoulder, kissing the small horseshoe tattoo on her ankle. I smirk, knowing she had no idea how fitting this tattoo would be when she got it.

“To bring me luck,” she manages to say through broken moans.

I place a kiss on her calf. “I think you’re about to get very lucky, Darlin’.” Every time my lips meet her skin, she inhales, her fingernails digging into my scalp as she tries to find some sort of control over her body.

My long claws dig into the sensitive flesh of her thighs, leaving pinpoint indentations. They are temporary marks, and they appease my need to claim.

For now.

Eventually, she will have a scarred mark on her neck. A scar that will hold my scent for all eternity.

I bury my face between her thighs, inhaling her scent until my lungs memorize her.

“Fuck,” I growl against her. “You smell delicious.”

“Kentucky.” The shy quality of my name falling from her lips has my cock flexing in my sweatpants.

I ease my tongue through her velvet lips, teasing her clit in circular motion.

“Kentucky! Oh! Oh! Yes, please don’t stop. Don’t stop,” she pleads, pushing her hips against my face for more attention.

“You’ll have to stake me to get me to stop, Darlin’.” There’s an additional spice hanging in the air, one that tempts my need for blood and causes a throb to fill my fangs.

Grabbing her hips, I move her closer against my mouth, burying my tongue into her tight pussy.

And that’s when I taste it.

Blood.

She has no clue she’s just started her courses, and I don’t want to mortify her, but for me, this couldn’t have come at a better time.

I don’t have to bite her. I can drink from her just like this.

While it isn’t the same as the blood that pumps through her veins, it will do in a pinch and satisfy the urge I have to sink my fangs into her femoral artery.

My claws skim down the back of her thighs as I feast, plunging my tongue in and out. My nose is against her clit, and with every motion of my head, it rubs against the mass of nerves.

My name is a moan coming from her, “Kentucky. Oh, fuck. You feel so good. More. Faster. I’m close.”

My left hand glides up her body, cupping her breast while the other dips between her thighs, and rubs her clit with more pressure.

She smacks the glass behind her, continuing to rock herself against my tongue. I hum as a small amount of blood floods my mouth. I drink it down with greed, finally getting a taste of what is to come.

She invigorates me.

Is this what it’s like? Why would I want death over my fated mate’s taste? She is satisfying a hunger I never knew I had, empowering me with blood that was made specifically for me.

Her cries become louder, quicker, and the harsh scratch of her nails on my shoulder tells me she is close. I free my cock from the constraints of my sweatpants, wrapping a hand around myself for relief.

“Oh, god. Kentucky! I’m going…you’re going to make me…I’m—” She tosses her head back, shouting to the ceiling with pleasure. I eat her through her orgasm, prolonging the pleasure sparking through her body.

I kiss her clit, and Dru doubles over from the sensitivity. Pulling away, I don’t bother to wipe my mouth. I want her to see how I don’t care about her courses; if anything, I fucking love it.

And I’ll want to do this every day during the duration of her monthly cycle.

Her eyes manage to open at last, glazed from the high of her orgasm.

“Is that? Is that my—” She covers her mouth with her hand as she sinks to the floor, climbing onto my lap. The tip of my cock edges against her drenched entrance, taunting me to take her right here on the floor. Her thumb wipes the corners of my mouth. “Did you bite me or is that?—”

“I didn’t bite you,” A guttural snarl vibrates the space between us. “Don’t be embarrassed, Darlin’. I fucking love how you taste. I’ll happily do it again, and again, and again.”

Much to my surprise, she slants her mouth onto mine, kissing me to the point where I know she can taste herself. Not wanting to break the spell between us, I wrap my arms around her and, with swiftness, take us to my bedroom.

The bedroom is a solarium. The walls and ceilings are made of thick, impenetrable glass. I like to lie in bed and look up at the night sky, the stars right above me, or when it rains, I can witness thunder and lightning battle for dominance.

I toss her on the bed, wanting her blood to stain my sheets so they smell of her.

“But I’m going to make a mess on your bed?—”

“—I fucking hope so.” I sling my pants off, standing by the bed naked in front of a woman for the first time in many, many years.

A sliver of insecurity rattles me, wondering if she’s happy with what she sees.

Her gaze is slow as she takes all of me in. A fresh wave of blood leaks from her when her eyes fall onto my cock, and a new cloud of lust fills my bedroom.

“You are perfect,” she breathes, followed by an audible gulp. “I need to tell you something. And I’d understand if you want to stop, but I don’t. I just think it’s fair you know before we move on.”

I crawl up her body, peppering kisses on every body part I pass before I hover over her face. “What is it, Darlin’?” I lean down, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“I’m a virgin,” she whispers into my ear.

The words sink into me, wrapping around the primal instincts of her belonging to me. She’s mine and will only be mine. No other has had her.

Only me.

And it makes me lose control.