Page 19 of The Bond That Burns (Bloodwing Academy #2)

She lay beneath me, her chest rising and falling with every uneven, ragged breath she took. Her fiery hair streamed out across my bed like a halo of blood. Her wide, green eyes stared up at me, almost fearful as they met mine.

I already knew what else I’d find in her eyes if I looked hard enough. Hatred. Desire. Two sides of the same coin. I knew because they were mirrored in my own eyes.

Her bare skin glowed under the lamplight. She had freckles. Not just on her face—those I’d known about. No, these were everywhere. Mapped out like constellations. I wanted to touch each one, memorize them with my hands, worship every beautiful speck with my mouth until she was moaning beneath me from the pleasure of it.

Fuck, but she was beautiful. Of course, I’d found her attractive since that first day. But now I knew I’d really had no idea.

She was a work of art. Sculpted in a way that left no room for flaws. Pale, smooth skin stretched over delicate curves. Every inch of her, a perfect balance of strength and femininity.

My eyes lingered on the soft sweep of her shoulders, the curve of her waist that dipped just enough to make my chest tighten. There was something about her that felt untouchable. Like she was carved from the same stuff as dragons and was just as otherworldly. Impossible to fully claim. But hell, if I didn’t mean to try.

Though her gaze was still defiant, she couldn’t hide the flush on her cheeks—or the perfect flush of red that swept across her breasts. I could smell the sweet wetness between her thighs. It was driving me wild. She might despise me—I already knew that much—but her body clearly didn’t.

Pendragon had been hiding dark desires. Now I could see them lurking in her emerald green eyes. Sinful thoughts. Sinful lusts. I wanted to fulfill every single one she’d ever had about me.

I lazily trailed my hands over her breasts, brushing my fingers over the peaks of her nipples until she gasped.

“You’re quiet for once, Pendragon,” I murmured, my voice mocking. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

Her eyes flashed. “You’re insufferable, even in bed.”

I chuckled. “Yet you don’t seem eager to leave.” My gaze roamed her body, slow and deliberate, enjoying it as she flushed even more deeply. “You might hate me. But your body is telling a different story.”

“I don’t want you,” she said, without any conviction. “You’re detestable.”

“And you’re lying,” I shot back. “You can hate me all you want. But part of you wants me, too. Just as much as I want you.” I leaned down to whisper against her lips. “Admit it.”

She shocked me then. She lifted her mouth and pressed it against mine.

The moment our lips met the world ignited.

Her taste was intoxicating. Almost as good as her blood.

I moved my hands over her, gripping her hips, then cupping her breasts. I wanted to touch her everywhere. The heat of her skin burned beneath my hands. I wanted to consume her, devour every bitter retort and ounce of venom she’d ever dared throw my way. The fury in her kiss matched mine and fed whatever this was raging between us.

Her lips parted beneath mine and I darted my tongue into her mouth hungrily, feeling her sharp intake of breath, hearing the faint, almost unwilling mew she made as her fingers curled against my chest.

Not enough. Not ever enough.

I intensified the kiss, my teeth raking her lower lip, demanding more, more, more. Her hands slipped into my hair, tugging me closer towards her. Our bodies moved against one another, and I let out a groan as our bare skin touched. Her breasts pressed against my chest and the sensation was incredible. Better than anything I’d ever felt in my life.

This. This was what I’d needed. What I’d wanted since last year from the very start. I didn’t just need her blood. I needed her . All of her. I wanted her more than anyone I’d ever met.

I pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, searching her gaze. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips already swollen from the force of the kiss.

“This is how it should be,” I murmured. “Do you feel it?”

“What do you mean?” she whispered. Her hands twitched, like she couldn’t decide whether to push me away or pull me closer.

“This is when I should be feeding from you. When you’re like this—relaxed, turned on. When your body’s warm and pliant and your mind isn’t screaming at me to stop. This is when it should happen.”

She tensed beneath me, and I felt her pulse quicken. It wasn’t just fear. I could sense her desire. She was tempted.

I ran my thumb lightly over her jaw, the gentlest of touches that made her gasp and tilt her head, baring the smooth contours of her neck.

“We hate each other,” she breathed.

“We don’t have to like each other to fuck, little dragon.” I laughed as her eyes widened. “It’s true. Hell, it might even be better this way.”

“Less complicated,” she acknowledged.

I smiled. “Right. I could back off a little if you let me feed more easily.” I felt her stiffen slightly. I’d made it sound too much like a bargain. “But it would be good for you, too,” I added hastily. I’d definitely ensure that.

I skimmed my hand down her body and trailed a finger over her clit to remind her of just how good I could make her feel. Then I wrapped my hand around my cock and leaned back a little, letting her get a good look at me and all I had to offer. Her eyes widened even more.

“You’re aching inside right now, aren’t you, little dragon? Aching to have my cock in you. If just watching me jerk off turned you on this much, how much better would the real thing be?”

She bit her lip and my hand nearly slipped. She looked so damned beautiful there beneath me, her smooth freckled skin, her rosy full breasts.

I knew she wasn’t going to stop me now. She wasn’t going to scream. If she’d wanted to, she could have sat up and punched me in the face. Hell, I would have let her.

But she didn’t.

“Look at me, little dragon. Look at how hard I am for you. You’ve got my cock in a vise.” My voice was a strangled growl. “And I’m not even inside you yet.”

She gave a little gasp and I took it as a sign.

I lowered myself over her, positioning myself against her entrance, nudging her open with my cock. At the contact, she moaned.

I grasped her arms, pinning her wrists over her head and she gasped. She thought I was a monster? Then in her darkest dreams, she must have imagined me as one in her bed. She wanted me to be a little rough. I could sense it.

“Let me show you how good this can be,” I whispered, holding her down.

I started to push myself inside of her at the same moment I dipped my head to her throat. My lips brushed against the curve of her neck, a featherlight caress that made her shiver. Then, with deliberate slowness, I extended my fangs, giving her just enough time to feel the anticipation as they touched her skin, before I sank them in. At the same moment, with one powerful thrust of my hips I entered her fully.

She cried out as my length drove inside of her, her body tensing, her hips lifting up to meet me.

I had no words. No words for how good she felt. I felt dizzy as I fed and fucked her simultaneously, holding her wrists above her head mercilessly as she squirmed against me.

But she wasn’t going anywhere. And in another moment, I let her go so I could grip her hips instead, bracing myself against her. Never letting my fangs leave her neck for a second, I drove inside her again.

She was tight. Fuck, but she was tight. Her pussy clenched around me and for a second, I almost lost my hold of her neck. This would have been easier with her on top. But there was always next time.

Her blood was rushing over my tongue, trickling down my throat with an indescribable sensation. Like fire and silk, raw and powerful, filling me with a strength that made my very bones hum. I growled against her, unable to stop myself. Her blood was like nothing I’d had. She carried an essence in her that called to me, blood to blood.

As I moved against her, my cock thrusting into her again and again, my fangs drawing her blood, everything else faded away. There was no hate. No anger. No war between us. Only this powerful, primal connection that neither of us could deny.

The question was whether she felt it, too—or if I was alone in imagining it was there at all.

My body wanted more and more from her. I slammed into her again, nudging her hips wider. She lifted herself against me in response, rocking her body against mine as if trying to take me deeper inside.

Her hands were all over me, her nails raking lines across my back, my neck, my shoulders. Regan had once done that to me. I’d told her to keep her hands to herself the next time.

But with Pendragon, I’d wear the marks of her desire for me with pride. Maybe I’d even look at them in the mirror the next day as I imagined the look of sheer, beautiful anticipation on her lovely face just before I sank my teeth and my cock into her.

I could feel myself already teetering on the edge—the mix of her body and her blood pushing me more quickly towards another climax. But I wanted this to be good for her.

I’d taken my fill. In the span of a few minutes, I’d drunk what would normally take me much longer feeding from her wrist so unwillingly as was our previous custom. A little reluctantly, I pulled back, savoring the last drop of her blood, running my tongue over my fangs. I looked at her neck nervously for a brief moment, then watched as the two small puncture marks quickly sealed and faded. She wouldn’t need the scarf this time.

Then I looked at her face. She was flushed, her lashes lowered, her petal-soft lips parted as she looked up at me.

I knew what she wanted, what she wasn’t going to ask for.

I covered her mouth with mine, pushing my tongue into her mouth, fucking her with it as I thrust again and again inside her, taking her to the edge with me as my hand slipped between us, rubbing her clit. She tightened around my cock, hard, and a cry spasmed from my lips as I shuddered, our climaxes crashing around us like a wave of pleasure.

I felt the moment she came, the beauty of it. The way her body tensed, spasmed, relaxed. I lifted my mouth from hers and took in the look on her face—an expression beyond happiness, beyond contentment. And I’d brought it to her.

It felt good. So fucking good to know I could make her do more than hate me.

Dangerously good.

She looked up at me, her eyelashes fluttering softly.

“That,” I said roughly, my voice hoarse and ragged from the rush of sensation. “That’s how it should feel for you. Always.”

Her eyes met mine, full of confusion.

“You can hate me all you want, little dragon,” I murmured, gently brushing a strand of red hair off her face. “But part of you knows now. There’s no going back.”

I watched as she slowly came back to herself, her chest rising and falling gently with the remnants of exertion. The flush on her cheeks deepened as she glanced at me, as if realizing all over again where we were and what we’d just done.

I couldn’t help but smirk. She looked incredible underneath me with her wild crimson hair. A red dragon, laid bare for me.

I rolled off her and stood up, moving to the wardrobe to grab a plush black robe trimmed with red cord. Without a word, I handed it to her.

She stared at it a moment before accepting it cautiously and slipping it on, pulling the soft fabric around herself.

The sight of her like that made something primal and possessive stir inside me. She was draped in my colors, my house insignia on her breast, her slender form swallowed up by the fabric that was marked with my scent. It was symbolic. Whether she realized it or not.

“You can borrow that,” I said smoothly, gesturing to the robe. “Can’t have you walking back to your room in the nude.” My gaze lingered on her bare legs, and she scowled, tugging the robe down.

“Very generous of you,” she muttered. But I could see the faint flicker of surprise in her eyes.

I imagined walking into the refectory tomorrow with her by my side. Everyone would know. They’d see her and they’d understand. Medra Pendragon wasn’t just some reluctant consort eager to break away from me anymore. She was mine in every way that mattered.

Feeding from her wouldn’t be a battle anymore. I’d make it a pleasure for us both. This was how it should always have been. I’d fucked up, but now I could make things right. Turn back the clock so to speak.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked sharply, interrupting my thoughts. Her green eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

“Nothing,” I said casually, leaning back against the headboard. “Just thinking about how good you look like that.”

Her face flushed and she looked away, busying herself with tying the robe’s belt. I was almost content to let the moment stretch, basking in the satisfaction of knowing I’d gotten what I wanted. Almost.

“You know,” I said, my voice still conversational. “This doesn’t have to be complicated. We can make things easier for both of us.”

She froze, her hands stilling. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” I continued. “You don’t have to keep pretending you hate me quite so much. If we’re going to be doing this, we might as well enjoy it, right? You’ll see. Things will be better if you stop fighting me all the time, Pendragon.”

The sharp, incredulous laugh that burst out of her caught me off guard.

“You really are unbelievable, Blake.” She stood up and pulled the robe tighter as she looked down at me. “To think, I really thought for a second that you might actually have learned something.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I snapped, sitting up straighter.

“It means you don’t get it,” she said, her voice dangerously low. “Nothing has changed between us. Like you said, we don’t have to like one another to fuck .”

I felt like I’d been slapped.

“I’m not yours. And I’m certainly not some prize you can parade around the school, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I felt my cheeks heat up. “That wasn’t what I meant. But after everything...”

“Yes, after everything,” she echoed. “After everything you’ve done to me and my friends, after that stunt you pulled today in class, I can’t believe I’m actually sitting here, wearing this robe, still in your room. What the fuck is wrong with me?”

She said the words so bitterly. I stared at her. Was she really regretting this already?

My jaw tightened, anger flaring. “What is it you want from me, Pendragon? I’ve given you everything.”

She slid off the bed and stood up. “You haven’t given me shit. If anything, I’m the one always giving.” She shook her head slowly. “Did you forget this morning so quickly?”

“I haven’t forgotten you sitting beside Kage Tanaka, no,” I snapped back.

“And I haven’t forgotten you humiliating my friends. You made Florence cry,” she burst out.

I winced. Florence. The dark-haired, quiet girl with glasses. I knew she was special to Pendragon. I’d tried to have her assigned to House Drakharrow so the girls could be together, but Kage had somehow overridden my selection. But Pendragon didn’t even know that. I’d never told her.

Now I took a deep breath. She was already heading for the door. Without thinking, the words tumbled out, low and hoarse. “I’m...sorry. All right?”

She stopped, her hand on the doorframe, and turned to look back at me. For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, she nodded. “Fine. But you’re still an asshole. And this? This doesn’t mean you’ve won.”

Then she stalked out, leaving me sitting on the bed, staring at the door.

I leaned back against the headboard again, running my hands through my still-damp hair. I felt a strange mix of emotions brimming inside me. Anger, confusion, and something else. Sadness? No, that couldn’t be it. I didn’t do sad. Sadness, depression, anxiety—those were all blightborn traits. Highbloods didn’t indulge in them.

I clenched my jaw. I should have been happy. I’d gotten what I wanted. The sex had been incredible. Better than anything I’d ever had before. Surely she must feel the same way. Soon she’d be back for more.

That was enough. It had to be.

But it wasn’t. I wanted more . But I didn’t know what exactly.

I looked across the bed at where she’d just been sitting. Her absence was a presence. She’d only been gone a moment. Already I missed her.

If she’d stayed, what would we have done next? Talked? Cuddled? Fucked again? Fallen asleep in my bed? I imagined my body curled up around hers, protecting her. It wouldn’t have been so bad.

But cuddling, talking, sleeping—those were all things you did with someone you actually liked . I’d been with girls before but when they stayed and talked, I usually wasn’t listening and was just waiting for them to go. When they fell asleep, I stayed on my side of the bed. I didn’t wrap myself around them like a spoon.

But with Pendragon? I wanted it all. I wanted to talk—and I wanted to hear her talk to me. I wanted to know everything about her–where she really came from, who her family was, her favorite book, her favorite class. I wanted to sleep beside her. Hold her in my arms. Above all, keep her safe.

But I couldn’t look forward to doing any of those things. Because she didn’t trust me.

The only thing I could do was what I’d been doing all along: Stay vigilant. Protect her, even if she didn’t know it. She could hate me all she wanted, but I was her guardian, her soldier. That hadn’t changed.

I closed my eyes and tried to relax. Tried not to think of how my older brother would call me “pathetic” if he knew half of what was running through my mind.

Tomorrow was another day. Maybe Pendragon would realize how good we were together. Maybe she’d show up at my door begging for more.

And if not? Well, I’d just have to remind her. Again and again.