Page 42 of The Fang Arrangement (Celestial Witches #2)

A s I swallow down Warin’s blood, I feel my wounds from my escape healing, and it fuels every inch of my body with a sense of desire.

Nothing I’ve ever done in my life compares to this feeling. I’m not sure if I should feel ashamed about how much I like drinking my vampire’s blood. It’s not like it sustains me in the same way, but it fills me with something else.

Unfiltered want.

All I can think about is Warin, how he’s mine, how we’re fated to be with one another.

He’s rubbing the head of his cock against my clit and I feel like I’m already so close. The sounds of where our bodies are rubbing together is salacious and wet, and his hold on me is possessive and endearing at the same time.

Part of me wants to give him what he wants, to tie our souls together for an immortal life together. Maybe I could do it, for Warin, I could be a vampire.

I shake the thought from my head and go back to how good I feel now, how consumed I feel by the taste and warmth of his blood.

When I pull back, I watch in amazement as his skin stitches back together, only a small smidge of blood on his flesh, and I can’t help but to lean forward and lick it off.

Warin groans, his grip on me brutal.

“Are you trying to make me come before I’m even inside of you again?” he asks.

“That’s the perk of having a vampire mate, isn’t it? You can fuck me as much as I need you to?”

He groans, like I’m torturing him. His hands move up my sides until both of my breasts are in his hands.

Warin’s touch makes every single one of my nerve endings greedy for his skin on mine. His thumbs circle my nipples, and I can feel myself getting wetter with every growing second.

“Are you going to let me fuck these too, pretty witch?” he asks, pushing them together and leaning forward, taking a nipple in his mouth.

There’s the slightest bit of fang and I can’t help it as my thighs shake with anticipation.

“Whatever you want,” I tell him truthfully.

When I’m with Warin, when we’re sharing blood that is fated to be together, it’s like nothing is off the table. It’s not something I’d ever considered before, but the idea of Warin having me in a way that I know he wants turns me on.

His tongue swirls around the hard bud, teasing me. Or maybe he’s delaying the pleasure for himself. He sucks hard on my nipple, and all I can do is grind down on his cock, creating friction.

The pleasure is almost too intense and I’m uncoordinated and dizzy with greed as I seek out my release. Warin doesn’t let up. Knowing that I’m close, he just keeps sucking and nipping, but not sinking his teeth in me.

One of my hands is tugging on his hair as the other holds the headboard as I take what I need, my abdomen tightening as my peak hits me, a loud moan ripping from my throat as I soak us even more.

I’m shivering, not sure if I can take anymore, as Warin pulls away from my breast, his thumbs back to rubbing the sensitive tips.

“You’re getting my cock nice and wet to give me what I want, aren’t you?” he says, which shamelessly has me clenching around nothing. “I think we can do better, though.”

His dick slides into me easily, and I’m thankful for his immortal stamina as he thrusts, fucking me from below.

I’m out of my mind as he fucks me, so oversensitive and consumed with our connection.

When he leans forward, no longer toying with me, and sinks his teeth right into my left breast, I think I see stars.

My vision goes black, my hearing goes out, as he drinks from me and fucks me. I’m almost positive I’m crying, because nothing could ever feel this good, nothing could be this cosmic and perfect.

He holds me tight, like our bodies couldn’t be any closer, almost like we’re one thing, and I fall apart.

My weight completely on him as I shiver, moan, and writhe. He takes one last long pull of my blood, and when his teeth pull out of me, I think I just might fall apart.

I can’t stop the shaking as Warin quickly flips us, my breasts bouncing with the motion, my hair sticking to my face as he looks down at me like I’m an actual goddess.

It’s what I always wanted, someone who was thoroughly obsessed with me. Did I think they would be a century-old vampire with slightly ambiguous morals? No, but I wouldn’t have anyone else. Warin Auclair is mine, and I’m his.

He looks down at where his bite is, and I watch as it heals, his fresh blood still pumping through my veins.

I lick my lips, my eyes are heavy lidded and I’m oversensitive as Warin slides his hand over my pussy, making me hiss as he collects the wetness between us and rubs it over my chest.

It’s dirty, salacious, and so fucking hot.

He rubs his length between my lips again, making himself even wetter as he straddles my sides, pressing my breasts together.

“You spoil me, witch,” he says.

I don’t even have a retort; I feel boneless, fucked out of my mind. Somehow, I still get even more turned on watching him. I doubt any of this is normal. Our need for each other is driven by this deep, soul binding connection few others could understand.

“You’re so beautiful, so lovely. I love every inch of you,” he says, and I blink at him. He said my body, not me. Yet, I feel everything else he’s not saying.

I love him.

I really fucking do.

Maybe it’s not the most romantic moment to realize this, but I wonder if Warin is thinking about it too as he holds my large breasts together, sliding his cock between them.

His thumbs rub my nipples as he thrusts back and forth, the head of his dick lost in my voluptuous chest.

“Are you going to mark me with your cum, War?” I ask him, knowing how me calling him his nickname drives him crazy.

“Fuck,” he hisses out, his hips going faster than any human man could fathom.

I help him, taking over, pushing myself together as he grabs the headboard. His gaze fluctuating from where he’s fucking me to my face.

The headboard makes a loud cracking noise as he pants over me, pulling out between my flesh and fisting his cock. Ropes of cum splatter against my breasts and Warin’s eyes devour my body as he makes yet another claim on me.

When he’s spent, he looks down at his work for a moment, a masculine sense of pride and a grin on his face, before he shifts his body, his tongue lapping up some of his mess before his mouth meets mine.

I swallow down his taste as we kiss. When he pulls back, he looks almost as spent as me. That’s a lie, I’m pretty sure he could go like five more rounds.

“You might have fucked the memories of tonight out of me, but I still need sleep,” I say.

Warin smiles, with that slight fang smile I used to think was him being a smug asshole, that I now find endlessly charming.

“Be right back,” he says.

He’s back quickly with a warm washcloth. He starts by cleaning off my chest. He’s thorough, overly so. Before sliding it down my body, delicately cleaning the rest of me.

Warin adjusts the blankets, shifting us so we’re both covered.

He cradles himself behind me. “Too cold?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“No, just right,” I tell him.

The words I love you, goodnight sit on the edge of my tongue, but I let my eyes close. I let go of all the bad memories of the night and cling to all of the amazing ones instead.

Warin and I have spent days in New Orleans, fucking, drinking, and for me, eating amazing food that Warin has delivered to the house.

It’s been magical.

The idea of slipping back to reality is a tough one, I have to face everything that happens now.

Sure, Iris and Violet have accepted me. The fairies and Gus have made peace with my decision. Hell, a big portion of our coven is progressive, but unfortunately, that doesn’t include some of my family. Not to mention the fact that I have a big decision to make.

Do I let Warin change me? Do I leave everything I know behind? Would I be happy as a vampire, even if that meant forever with Warin?

Warin grabs my thigh in the backseat. Achille came to pick us up and bring us home.

“Do you need some time at your cottage?” he asks.

My heart swells at his perceptiveness.

“If you don’t mind?” I ask him. As much as I would like to stay in our little bubble forever, I can’t think rationally when I’m around him.

“Betty will be right in the shutters, if you need me you can tell her or call and I’ll be right there,” he says.

It’s sunset, and as we round the one lane road to my cottage, my stomach sinks into my chest.

Waiting on my porch are my grandmother and mother. No doubt, Warin can hear my heart rate picking up.

Part of me wants to ask him to stay in the car. Maybe to spare him from their wrath, or myself, I’m not sure.

But Warin doesn’t give me a chance as he rounds the car with his super speed and opens the door.

I feel like I’m going to puke as I see their appalled faces.

I’m a disappointment, I always have been.

They didn’t consider my magic anything special.

In fact I’m pretty sure they thought that of me as a whole.

Never skinny enough, never quiet enough.

I was too much and too little at the same time for them and the feeling hurt.

When I glance over at Warin, his beautiful eyes assessing the situation, I realize that I’ve been more than enough in every way to him.

He’s made me a stronger witch, praised me for my magic. He always takes the opportunity to tell me how beautiful and selfless I am.

To him, I’m not too much. I’m more than he could ever ask for.

I grab his hand. Approaching the steps to my cottage, my grandmother’s nostrils flare as she looks at the two of us, her lips pursed.

“Pack your things, Ember. We’re leaving the coven,” my grandmother says and I shake my head.

“No, I’m not leaving,” I reply sternly.

“This coven has gone to hell in a handbasket. First the filthy dogs and now my own granddaughter is defiling herself with a dead man?” she asks, waving her wand around like a threat.

Warin says nothing, almost acting bored with the situation.

“If you want to leave the coven, that’s your choice, but good luck finding a new one. Celestial Coven was one of the few covens still stuck in the old ways, you aren’t going to find a coven who thinks like you. I’m not leaving, and I’m with Warin whether you like it or not.”

“Fleur, talk some sense into your daughter,” my grandmother says.

My mother sighs, looking down at the ground, and I wonder if maybe this is the moment she finally grows a spine.

“I don’t want to leave the coven, either. Lavender is doing amazing things. I don’t like that Ember is with a vampire, but it’s still her choice,” my mother says, shocking the shit out of me.

She’s always been a wet blanket, doing what grandmother always said instead of sticking up for herself.

My grandmother’s face is pinched as she takes in the surrounding scene. I’m fortunate that she might be a bigoted old bitch, but at least she’s not insane, like Violet’s grandmother.

“Consider yourselves singed from my family tree. The coven might be more progressive, but they’ll never accept this. Losing my magic, my wealth of knowledge in magic, will be a detriment to the coven. Losing you would mean nothing,” my grandmother says.

Unfortunately, that’s when Warin opens his mouth.

“Then leave, you old bitch,” he says.

I grimace as my mother’s eyes go wide and my grandmother looks at Warin like he’s evil incarnate.

“What did you say to me, vampire?” she hisses, holding her wand up.

Warin sighs, rolling his eyes. He moves at the speed of light, my grandmother too old to keep up as he grabs her wand. He’s standing back beside me as he dangles it in the air.

“Fuck off or I’ll crack it in half,” he says.

“You disgusting—” Warin goes to snap it on his knee and my grandmother makes a placating gesture. “Wait. Fine, I’ll leave.”

Warin hands me the wand, bypassing my grandmother and mother as he enters the house.

“You let him into your house?” my mother gasps and I sigh.

“Yes. As amazing as this little family get-together has been, I’m over it.”

My words shock both of them. I’ve been so ready to please in the past, putting up with their harsh words and quiet digs. But being with Warin has shown me that there’s power in standing up for yourself.

“Grandmother, I hope you find the coven you were looking for. And mom, I guess I’ll see you at the full moon ceremony,” I say, not sure where I want to leave things with her.

She’s not a mean person, just weak.

My grandma still looks pissed as hell with her arms crossed, and she doesn’t look at me as she takes a step down the stairs.

She trips on the last step, falling in the dirt, and I have to hold back a smile, because it feels like karma.

But it isn’t karma.

It’s Tabitha and Domingo holding a small length of string. I hear them chuckling before they fly away.

My mother goes to help her up, and I toss her wand on the ground.

“You’re no longer a Hallow,” my grandmother seethes, as she gets up dusting herself off.

“No. I’m not. I’m an Auclair,” I say, shutting the door behind me.