Page 39 of Zomromcom

Her body jolted each time he bottomed out, and when he rotated his hips and rubbed right where she needed pressure and friction, she squirmed beneath him. A fuse lit within her, desire turning to desperation, and she hitched her legs higher on his back and spread her thighs wider.

“That’s—” He grunted into her neck as he sank even deeper. “That’s right, Edie. Give me what’s mine.”

The heat between her legs flickered brighter with each heavy thrust, and she laughed, the sound a joyful challenge. “Give it? Thought you— ah —were gonna— fuck —take it. Chad .”

He snorted breathlessly and raised his head. “Apologies. Let me—rectify—”

“Gods,” she moaned.

“—the situation—”

“ Yes .” Her mouth fell open as he slowly pulled out of her. “Wait, where are you—”

“—immediately.”

Then he spread her open again with his dick, shoving it deep and grinding hard, even as he lunged for her throat. His fangs sank into her flesh, the sting distinct and sharp, as if he was too fuck-addled to remember all his usual expertise.

Somehow, even that pain arrowed directly to the spot where his cock stretched her wide.

Then, abruptly, the pinch was gone, leaving only the drugging caresses of his soft lips against her throat and long pulls of his open, wet mouth.

The pleasure echoed everywhere, sparking to life in every nerve, every secret reach of flesh.

He could have been pulling her nipples taut with his teeth, tonguing the backs of her knees, drawing the sensitive bend of her inner elbow into his mouth until he left bruises, a reminder of where he’d been and what he’d done to her.

He might have been tongue fucking her or sucking her clit into his ravenous mouth.

He should have been a mere dream. A fantasy of fangs and lust and devotion.

“Edie,” he groaned into her neck, and let go of her hand so he could reach down between them and feel their connection, trace her stretched, aching entrance as she took everything he had, again and again, before he finally—finally—gave her needy clit a firm little slap.

She had no breath to scream when she came. The orgasm obliterated everything.

Her nails clawed into his shoulders, his arms, as she scrabbled closer and spread her legs wider and clamped down on his dick over and over, seeing nothing despite her wide-open eyes, hearing nothing even as her voice shredded in her throat, feeling nothing but—

Oh gods, ecstasy. Not just pleasure. Actual godsdamn ecstasy .

He’s going to be absolutely insufferable after this , she thought dimly a long time later, once a few synapses began firing again.

Somehow, she was still climaxing. Still twitching around his cock, albeit less violently. At least until he rubbed roughly at her clit and his mouth drew hard on her throat and she was full-on coming once more with a sharp cry, shaking apart beneath him with each spasm.

“Yes.” His tongue dragged over her throat, closing the wounds he’d inflicted, and she sobbed as he kept fucking her deep into his mattress, faster and even harder. “ Mine .”

“I’m yours,” she agreed, her voice thin and hoarse, because there was no point denying it now. “And you’re—oh fuck —mine.”

A ragged sound ripped from his heaving chest, and his hands dug beneath her and clamped on her ass and held her steady as he planted his dick as far inside her as he could.

His bloodstained fangs gleamed in the lamplight when his body arched above hers, and he jerked against her in a powerful, racking orgasm, throat-tearing groans and gravelly, incoherent words pouring from his gaping mouth.

“Shit—so fucking good —never like this…” He moaned, his hips bucking powerfully enough to shove them both farther up the mattress. “Beautiful—my Edie—yours… gods .”

Somehow, she came again with his final thrusts.

Not as hard, but…yeah. Definitely a climax.

She kind of hoped he didn’t notice, what with his own climactic ecstasy to process, because the known universe wouldn’t be enormous enough to contain his ego if he realized exactly how many orgasms he’d wrung out of her.

That was when she started to laugh, because everything was so ridiculous. He was so ridiculous, but also so amazing and undeniably gifted in the dicking arts.

Then again, she’d clearly given him a good time too. When he finally collapsed on top of her, he was actually warm . Sweaty, even, with heavy-lidded, pleasure-dazed eyes the color of faded denim. She took real pride in that.

He was also heavy. Very, very heavy. She stopped laughing then, largely because she couldn’t breathe all that well.

After a few uncomfortable moments, he must have noticed all the wheezing and rib poking, because he rolled to the side. After disposing of the condom, goodness knew where, he dragged her back into his arms, hugged her fiercely, and planted a hard, lingering kiss on the crown of her head.

Reality filtered back into her consciousness, which was a damn shame.

Because this entire situation was a true heartbreaker, wasn’t it?

The two of them couldn’t simply hole up together, shut out the world, fuck for a few weeks.

The sirens might sound at any moment, indicating that zombies had already escaped the Zone and started tearing through the helpless population awaiting them outside, and a Supernatural-versus-human war was about to erupt.

If the sirens didn’t sound, she and Max had to leave with the sunrise, muster a zombie-fighting force, battle the aforementioned zombies, and somehow make various important officials believe their cockamamie-yet-accurate story.

One or both of them probably wouldn’t even survive .

Their timing was absolute shit. But it was kind of hard to feel much dread or sadness after such a ludicrous number of climaxes, so…that was a plus, right?

“I said you’d come until you cried,” he murmured into her hair, “because I didn’t know coming until you laughed was an option. But I consider that an even greater achievement.”

She cleared her throat, deciding to try for nonchalance. “Yeah. Your bites have…quite an effect.”

“Bites alone wouldn’t make you orgasm like that, human.” Benevolent superiority saturated every smug word. “Trust me.”

Okay, he sounded entirely too satisfied with himself. “I assume you used other vampire sex tricks or your Supernatural powers, then.”

“No tricks or powers necessary,” he told her breezily.

“Unless you consider my incredible stamina, my total dedication to your pleasure, and my vast quantity of natural fucking-related talent to be tricks . And while I am, obviously, a creature of great and ineffable power, I didn’t require its usage to make you come like a godsdamn freight train. Five times.”

Oh good. He’d missed one of them.

“No, wait.” At which point, the jerkface made a big production of counting it out. “Three times with my mouth and hands, then four…five…six. Six times in total. A full half dozen.”

He let her go and edged back a few inches, all so she could more clearly see his smirk and watch him hold up one hand, palm out, along with his other thumb.

“ Six ,” he emphasized.

In response, she held up one finger. A single, very expressive finger. And when his obnoxious beam only became brighter and cockier, she realized her mistake.

“Oh, darling,” he said condescendingly. “You already did.”

She feigned a heavy sigh. “I knew you’d rub this in.”

He mimed fingering her. “And so I did. Quite spectacularly.”

“ Dammit , Chad.”

This time, when she laughed, he laughed too.