Page 40 of The Vampire’s Mercy (Blood Melody #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

SILVANUS

Honeyed blood ran down my throat, coming with echoes of his song.

Incredible.

Utterly incredible.

I drank deeper, pressing myself against him, my throbbing cock brushing against the rough denim of his jeans.

I had to have him.

No matter what, I had to have him.

The blood and the song conjured a storm in my head, showing me a forest, flying over the world of cities and meadows and moonlight. The place I’d come from, filled with secrets and misery. Far from me. Lost to time and a broken mind.

I drank deeper still, his pulse vibrating against my lips.

I’d kill him if I drank too much. And he would deserve it. He should be a corpse, a curse removed from my life.

Curse. A curse on both of us.

He moaned, his ass grinding against my cock.

Our search for answers had ground to a halt. Nothing happened whenever he sung now. Was it the curse? Was it more? Did I care now he’d killed poor Rylan?

One vampire death was too many, three went beyond that.

The Heart of All ached with loss. Never to be the same again, empty of those three souls. My dear ones, failed by me because of this elf.

Kill him. End it.

I stopped drinking, Paris squirming beneath me.

Kill him and take away the pain.

His magical skills didn’t matter now. None of what he could do was worth him being here. And neither was the incredible honeyed blood awakening every one of my senses, submerging me in radiant yearning.

The feel of his slender hips under my hands didn’t matter. His quickened pulse and breaths didn’t matter. His beauty was irrelevant, my curiosity a foolish mistake. I didn’t need to have him. I didn’t need to feel myself inside him or hear him moan for me or…or…

His cornflower gaze met mine as he angled his head my way. “Do it… Just fucking do it.” He reached down, opening the buttons of his jeans. “Fuck me, Silvanus.”

You can’t…

“Fuck me.”

Honey and delight. His body right there, a forbidden fruit for the taking.

“You need to fuck me,” he rasped, grinding against me, his mouth dripping with my blood. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

No.

Yes.

No.

Honey and flesh.

No.

Yes.

No.

Honey, honey, honey. Elf skin, a creature of beauty.

Desire drummed and drummed and drummed. A steady command to break free of my doubt and take him.

Goodness, did I want to take him.

He’s a killer…

“Fuck me, King.”

He makes the Heart of All weep…

“Fuck me!”

But he’s so beautiful…

“Just fuck me!”

His demands pounded in my skull, my cock aching, every part of me tense. And the honey tingled on my tongue, a key to open the restraints holding me back.

One lock clicked, then another, then another.

“Please, Silvanus. Please…”

I liked to hear him beg. Someone else used to do that. The golden-haired man. Yes. He begged me to fuck him, screaming my name.

Who was he? Why did I give myself to him?

My head swam with confusion, melted images swirling together in a mess of colors, making no sense.

Golden hair and passion.

Golden hair and…nothing. Nothing more there.

Frustration rumbled in my chest, my fingers digging harder into the elf’s flesh.

“Please…”

I can’t…

“Please…”

I can’t…

“Fuck me, you piece of shit!” he bellowed.

His insult broke the final restraint.

Grabbing the band of his jeans and underwear, I yanked them down to his ankles.

He panted, his bare ass now kissing the tip of my cock.

The self-lubricating liquid mortals called precum oozed from it, spilling down the shaft.

I slicked myself, watching the beads of sweat glimmer on his face.

Blood stained his crop top, the puncture wounds from my bite already healing.

A trait of the executioner blood, its various components a maelstrom of power in my belly.

“Please…” he whined, spreading his legs. “Please…”

I gave him what he wanted.