32. bleed for me

32

bleed for me

Lucynda

I wait for his instruction. Despite my frustration toward him, I hang on to his every word, waiting patiently for him to tell me exactly what to do next.

I blink my eyes one moment thinking I know exactly what I want. Then I breathe Rivian Duquesne's air— my husband —and nothing before mattered. He's changing me, constantly. Since meeting him, my world has been rocked to its core and I still can't tell if I love it or hate it. But the only thing I know for sure is that my body is on fire and the flames are burning hungrily to the depths of my core.

I look up at him with a pleading look in my eyes. He still has his hand wrapped around my hair, but he doesn't pull very tight. I won't lie, I wouldn't mind if he did pull a little tighter, threaten to tear my hair from my head, maybe that would give me a tangible reason to be this upset with him, but I quickly realize I can't be upset if I'm nearly dripping, waiting for my new husband to start ripping my clothes off my body. I like when he's rough with me, when he shows me just how powerful he is. But the look in his eyes flicks from dark notes of sinful menace to those vibrant greens of gentleness and passion.

He lets go of his grip, bringing me in for a kiss before asking me to turn around. He lowers his voice creating a dangerously intimate setting before us, losing the harsh tone he's been using, showing me that he can be gentle.

I do as I'm told and turn around to give him my back. I feel light traces of warm air skate over my shoulder and neck, the delicate skin combusting with evidence of what he does to me. My breath hitches as his fingertips graze my skin to push my hair over my shoulder and away from my back.

For some reason, I expect him to bite me. I kind of hope he does. But instead, I feel his expert fingers trail down my exposed skin then over the fabric before he starts to work the intricate lacing undone on the back of my corset dress. I feel as if he is unraveling me while he unties the bow at the bottom and loosens a row of lace from its loops then moves on to the next row. He takes his time, one by one as he works the silk ribbons to loosen my dress. This alone has me feeling utterly weak to the man I've just sworn to have and to hold, till death do us part.

My breathing quickens as he nears the last row and I hate the way I miss his fingers dropping from my body once he's done. I don't move until he tells me, but I plaster the dress to my chest, not wanting to let it go just yet.

"I'm going to take care of you, little one," he whispers to me. I turn my head over my shoulder to see that he's looking at me, studying me.

I need to feel his eyes on me, so I turn around, still holding the dress in place and doing my best not to breathe so lustfully because my heart is racing and my body feels so warm to the attack of nerves and desire.

We stand there, silence hovering for only a moment more before he takes a step in my direction to tighten the gap between us.

"Let it down, Lucynda. Let everything down for me." Before Rivian has a chance to even let out his last two words, for me, I'm losing hold on the dress and letting it fall down. For him.

He's seen me naked before. I should be ashamed to admit that, but I’m not. I only feel timid about it now because this means something. Maybe not to him, but to me everything changes after tonight.

He takes another step forward, the dress pooled at my feet preventing him from coming as close as I want him, and he reaches his hand out to my chest.

I close my eyes in anticipation of his touch, feeling the fire in the pits of my belly raging. But he simply places his open palm over the beat of my heart.

"Let it down, Lucynda," he repeats again. I open my eyes to see him focusing on me, my eyes tethered to the fierceness of his stare. He's speaking to me, to my soul. "Feel this with me." He's using my own words against me and that's when I realize . . . before he might have been talking about my dress, but now, he's talking about my walls.

He wants me to let down the barriers that keep me from truly feeling the connection here. But I've already done that, I've trusted him with everything thus far, what more could he possibly want?

Let it down.

I shut my eyes once more as his ghostly whisper weaves into the fabric of my mind only to pluck at the stitching I've worked hard to tighten, keeping out the thoughts I can't be brave enough to face. My mind ventures into the darkest parts of where I keep things buried as the locks of my truth break, allowing me to pinpoint the very thing he's indicating.

A memory of me fades in…

Six-year-old Lucynda with lopsided pigtails that look unwashed and tangled, pulls at her dad's jeans, crying that she wants her mommy back. She's upset because her mommy didn't even say goodbye and it's been days. Her daddy has been angry and drinking, and she hasn't been fed properly; only what she can find herself in the fridge that isn't rotting or isn’t beer. Her daddy kicks at her to shoo her away, and she doesn't fall hard but she notices the distance he's trying to put between them.

"This is your fault," he says, gripping his hair as he crushes another beer can.

But she doesn't understand how this is her fault. She's just a kid and she was asleep when her mommy left. She didn't tell Mommy to leave. The last thing she said to Mommy was, "Goodnight, Mommy. Love you big like the moon." And Mommy kissed her forehead as she tucked her into bed and that was the last she'd seen of her.

Lucynda felt like her heart was about to explode because she was so confused as to why this was happening. Nothing was happy anymore and she felt deprived of life. She starts crying even more, not being able to control the warm tears that spill from her as her voice goes hoarse from pain.

"Stop it! Shut up!" Her daddy yells at her and she didn't even flinch because nothing mattered anymore. She just wants her mommy. She wanted her mommy and her daddy to be happy again and to be happy with her.

"That's enough, Lucy!" Her daddy got up from his seat on the couch and went for another beer.

But before he could make it too far, he looks at his daughter in the eyes, tears uncontrollably spilling and hyperventilation taking over her cries.

"She didn't love us! She never loved me!" Now her daddy is starting to cry. "How could you do this to us? I hate you!" Her daddy shouted at her before disappearing into the kitchen.

She felt guilty yet robbed. How could he say those things to her unless they were true? What did Lucynda do to cause any of this, she was just a little girl.

But she knew that she hated the way it felt, the things that he said. And if they were true, she was sorry. She was sorry that she wasn't loveable enough to make Mommy stay and that she left her and her daddy.

She calmed her cries and wiped her tears and that was the last time Lucynda ever cried in front of her daddy.

Let it go.

Rivian's voice softly enters my mind again, bringing me back to the present.

Let it go.

That moment was the very moment I decided I wasn't allowed to ever feel love again. I told myself no one would love me and I put up a barricade, brick by brick, to make sure no one could infiltrate it like that again. I was five, and love is the most basic feeling a toddler can feel. Everything should be happy and fun, bright and lively. Those days were dark and I knew I hated the way that it all felt. It changed me, having my father look me in my eyes as I desperately tried to cling to some kind of hope, and he stripped me of it with three hurtful words. I hate you.

Rivian's hand still presses into my chest as I open my eyes. He wants me to let go of that memory. Let down the walls I built around that broken home and shoved away in the hollow crevices of my mind.

But why? So I can allow myself to feel worthy of love again? So I can accept the chance of more heartbreak? He won't love me, he's told me that clear as day so why does me letting down the cages of this memory matter to him? Why should I let one of the darkest parts of my life free to plague me for the rest of my undying days—seeing as I will soon be a victim to the endlessness that is forever.

But something in me tells me it's okay to let it go. Maybe he wants it to be clear from my mind because after tonight, everything will be magnetized. Does he really care about me that much that he'd want me to let go of something that could dig its roots deeper into my soul and make me feel tenfold what it did before?

As I inhale a deep sigh, taking in the fresh air around us with hints of Rivian's cologne, I let my eyes flutter shut once more before I exhale the memory that formed who I am today. I can't help but feel the passes of anger that surge through me when I think about the love I was denied, comparing those notes to this very moment, but also noting that my mother and father have done me so wrong in this world.

But I have to let it go. I have to listen to Rivian and let it all down. I can't hold on to anger any more. I can't feel the sadness that trapped me for so long. And though I can't get what I want out of Rivian, I have to let go of the idea that I am not loveable because deep down, he's done nothing but show me what I can have. What I am worthy of, even if his ways are unorthodox. If I continue to believe I am not allowed to feel love, I’ll feel as if I am hated all the time. He wants me to let go so that I can allow myself to accept everything else he is willing to give me and I want that.

I want that more than anything.

"I've got you, Lucynda." He feels the remnants of my resolve shattering against his palm as the beats of my heart play the tune of reprieve in its chambers.

I'm free.

And once again, he did that for me.

Rivian doesn't take a second more to scoop me up and place me on the bed. His eyes reflect the desire he's hostage to and I feel so powerful knowing it's me who's holding that on him.

"I've been waiting for you to rid yourself of that awful memory, little one." He stands back up and removes his suit jacket first.

I watch as he pulls the material away from his body before turning his thick fingers to the buttons on his blouse. He weaves the little acrylic circles through each hole one by one, looking at me in my eyes while I watch him undress.

My mouth waters at the sight before me, I've never seen Rivian undressed. The idea of his exposure excites me and I squirm as he gets to the last button of his shirt.

His eyes demand attention, so I look up at him as his tone deepens to a lust-filled timbre.

"Do you want to help me with the last one?" he asks, and I pull my bottom lip into my teeth and bite, feeling so frenzied by the innocent offer. I nod and sit up; he watches as my heavy breasts move with my body.

I reach out and skate my shaky fingers over his own before he moves his hands out of the way for me to finish undressing him.

I push the button through the last hole and look down between us as a small gasp escapes me before I peel the material from his lower abdomen.

I look up at his body, riddled with tiny little scars and ridges of muscles begging to be explored.

I bring my eyes to his, I can see the torment buried deep inside.

I analyze the scars over his abs, then up to his chest. Some little, some bigger. Some have faded into the layers of his skin only leaving a little trace of the foul play he's endured.

I ask him with my eyes for silent permission to let me touch him and he nods his approval.

I use the pads of my fingers to gently roam over the divots and edges of something that looks like cigarette burns on his chest. Then another that looks like a gash of a knife right below the cages of his heart. There’s more healed-over wounds sprinkled around his rib cage and along the collar bone on his right side.

"Who did this to you?" I ask, feeling angry and saddened that someone could inflict this kind of pain onto someone. These had to have happened before he became a vampire, because then they wouldn't be visibly prevalent, having healed to no proof of existence.

He reaches down, still standing in front of me as I sit on the bed. His fingers start a trail from the top of my head, sweeping across my hair and brushing it behind my ear before he travels over to my own scar, and I feel the attack of butterflies fluttering against my core. I dip my head into his palm as he caresses my cheek and I savor the way this moment lingers between us.

His hand on my scar. My hands on his. It's like the tether of our souls is bound by more than just a law of lore but a tie of trauma and yearning. Yearning to be seen and longing to feel the impulse of needing retribution for the scars we wear like second skin. We are made to be one.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I do feel the need to enact revenge and maybe his secrets reflect the same truth. But my biggest monster has already been slayed by the man who looks at me like I can save him, however that may be. And maybe his monster has yet to be slayed. Maybe there's more beneath the surface of bloodlust and scarred flesh. Maybe his secrets are what he holds tight to his chest, the ones that welcome the beautiful edges of betrayal scattered along his body.

"The same figure in your life who did this to you," he trails his finger along the jagged yet smooth edges of my scar, making sure I feel every small movement against it before he continues. He moves his fingers from my face and presses his palm against my own fingers, making me dig deeper into one of the cigarette burns along his chest. "Is the same person in my life who did this to me."

Realization thrashes through me, hatred burning for my husband's offender.

"Your father," I breathe.

He takes two fingers, placing them under my chin and lifting me to look up at him.

"But I don't want to talk about that right now, Lucynda. Right now, I want to focus on all the ways I am going to make you irrevocably mine."

Agony wracks me as I think about his promise to not love me. But then I remember the torment he freed me of, the memory that held me hostage to a lifelong belief of being incapable of deserving more than the pain that was inflicted on me. Though nonetheless, I'm conflicted because while he may not desire to fight for a scenario where he opens himself up to express love for me, I am deeply falling for him.

Rivian undoes the belt and button of his pants, lowering them down while kicking off his shoes.

We're both left in nothing but our underwear and pleasure surges through me knowing that he's going to make good on his promise. He's going to make me his.

I scoot back over toward the top of the bed where I lay back, my head gently hitting the pillow and my chest rising and falling in anticipation of what comes next.

Rivian finds his way on top of me, placing his knees on either side of my thighs and his hands press into the pillow near my head. He's overwhelmingly close, and a flood of lecherous trepidation rushes through my veins.

He lowers his head and presses his lips against my own. A soft kiss presents itself, his lips feathering over mine in a gentle dance of adoration. He's going to be gentle and though I love the idea of being rough and raw with him, I need him to take his time.

"Have you taken the pills Troy gave you?" he asks and I know he's not concerned about me trapping him into pregnancy, but rather to ensure that I've been responsible with our future.

I nod, a simple response as I can't seem to form words for the life of me. My heart is racing so fast I'm afraid it'll fall from my mouth.

"Touch yourself," he demands. His tone is a little darker, likely due to the nature of our position.

Panic seizes in me because the look in his eyes as he pulls back a little is something slightly nefarious.

"I know you've done it before. You thought you played me like a fiddle when you lied to me about never having touched yourself, didn't you, little one?" A grin pulls on his full lips and my heart skips a beat. "You forget, I've been watching you in the shadows far longer than you knew your own shadow existed."

He doesn't mean my shadow literally. He's referring to himself as my shadow.

"Show me where you ache, little one. So I know where to make it better for you." He presses another kiss to the side of my mouth before trailing his lips across my chin, then down to my neck.

God, the need that plagues me of having my skin between his teeth is what ultimately leads me to trail my fingers down my abdomen and beneath the lacy red thong I wore just for him.

He dips his head down to look between us right as I slip beneath the fabric and press my middle finger against the spot I need him most.

"Is that where you want me?" His tone digs deep into my soul as vibrations burst through me, needing him to fill every void.

My teeth firmly hold my lip hostage as I whimper a pathetic hum to indicate approval.

He moves his body down a bit, his lips leaving my neck and traveling to the curvature of my breast. He lets his lips whisper sweet kisses against my pebbled skin before he slips his tongue out and over the rosy peak of my nipple.

"Oh," I moan. The cool air invades my sensitive skin before his warm tongue laps at it again in slow circular motions. He brings a hand up to cup my other breast and allows his thumb to mimic his tongue on my other nipple.

I buck my hips into him, my finger still placed over my clit but unmoving as I am trapped under his body.

"Greedy little thing my wife is. Be patient, baby. We have all night to make this little body of yours feel so fucking spent." He lets go of my nipple to let the words fall from his wet lips, only creating more of a puddle out of me than I already am.

He furthers his perusal, trailing his kisses to under the curve of my breasts, then down to my belly button. He's so close to just below my navel that I moan, feeling the heat of his kisses sear into my soul. He still has one of my breasts locked in his hold, but he uses his other hand to remove my finger from under my panties and he slips it into his mouth.

"Fuck, you taste like the sin that you are, Lucynda. You know that?" He looks up at me and I spiral. His eyes are dark again, the little tendrils of smoke swirl around his blackened irises and I can see the same smoky curls of desire form on the skin around his eyes as well.

"Rivian," I plead, needing relief from this torment he's subjecting me to.

Finally, he uses a finger to slide my panties to the side and leans in to press a kiss against my aching clit.

"Fuck," I shout, not knowing how to control the hunger raging inside me. I need him.

Everywhere.

He licks down the seam of my pussy, from my clit then down to my entrance and I push against him, needing him to know that I am desperate for him.

"Cyn, you need to calm down, baby. I'll get there, okay? I have to make sure you're ready to take me. So relax, Wife." His words do the opposite of what he was attempting. Chaos strikes my body, feeling every inch light with need to have his hands touch me, hold me, capture me.

But I do my best to listen to my husband and relax against the bed to allow him to do what he needs.

Rivian uses his tongue to push against my clit, likely to distract me from his finger hovering over my wet entrance, but I feel him there. I feel every little flutter against my skin as he pushes inside me but only to the first knuckle. I gasp. God, it feels so good.

He may have caught me in a lie that I've never touched myself before or that I've never made myself come, but other than Rivian, nothing or no one has ever been inside me, not even myself. I've mostly gotten off by clitoral stimulation, so his intrusion yet again has my body flying off the handle with overwhelming pleasure.

He starts to sink his finger deeper inside of me and I can't hide the fear that overcomes me.

"Riv," I gasp, and he looks up at me, his mouth wet from my arousal.

"Don't worry, Cyn. I won't break you. Not yet." His devious smile chills me to my bones before he returns to his endeavor of sucking on my clit.

I feel pressure as he pushes deep but then he stops and curls his finger upward right as he presses his tongue against my sensitive bud and the gesture of both has me moaning. "Fuck," I praise as he chuckles against my skin.

He removes his hand that still holds my breast to hold my underwear aside while he uses his other hand to solely focus on bringing me pleasure.

"Can you hold your legs up for me, baby?" He waits for me to scoot my ass up a little and I bring my knees close to my chest, holding the backs of my thighs in place so that I am open for him, waiting for his warmth to grace me again.

"Perfect," he praises, and I shiver. If he keeps talking to me like this, I won’t be able to comply.

Rivian leans back down and presses more soft kisses on the outside of my pussy, kissing my labia and using his teeth to tease my skin. I feel his light nips here and there and I can't hold in the moans that escape me.

He removes his finger slightly, pulling it out of me and before I know it, he's putting two back in.

"Oh," I cry out a sound laced with pain. I hear little patters pelt against the window, looking over briefly to see that it’s started to rain again.

He sees my concern and he simply replies with, "I'm big, Lucynda. You need to be ready." I press the back of my head further into the pillow, taking my eyes off him as I hold my legs up and he works his fucking magic at my core.

Lightning strikes outside as I feel my orgasm cresting. He thrusts his fingers gently and uses his tongue to build up the throes of my pleasure. It's unreal how easy I unravel for him. But being filled by him with his mouth against my clit is dangerously close to what it feels like falling into the depths of sin.

Thunder cracks through the sky.

"Rivian," I cry out as he pushes me further and further into the abyss of my rapture.

He likely feels my walls clamping around him, tightening as I close in on the last thread unraveling at the murderous hands of my husband.

Waves build, crashing against my resolve as I nearly lose hold of my shaky legs. My head shoots up to watch him take from me.

And then, the storm hits.

Everything explodes as I cry a song of pain and pleasure, feeling wracked with so much desire as it tingles into my spine and up to my head. My eyes roll back and I let the last of my orgasm calm what shook. Rivian lets up his tongue but doesn't move from my pussy. His fingers slide out of me slowly before he licks up the cum I left in his wake.

"You are fucking ruinous, sweet sin." His compliment is followed by deep kisses against my inner thigh and then my navel before he moves his way back up over me but not before he slides my lace thong down my legs and tosses it aside. He has to do all of the work because after I let go of my legs to ride the wave he took me on, they feel numb with so much satisfaction.

Once he’s hovering back over me, he kisses my forehead, then my temple. I feel so coveted beneath this man.

"I'm ready to take you now, Lucynda. Are you ready?" He's not asking to make sure I feel like my body can handle his. He's asking if I'm sure I want to move forward with this part of our night, allowing me the choice. I know that after I give my virginity to him, we'll have to drink from each other and then…

"Are you going to kill me tonight?" I ask, as I look up at him reticently. I want to prepare myself for the pain of dying more than anything.

"I don't have a choice, baby." He traces a finger along the rough edges of my scar.

I wrap my arms around the back of his neck as I close my eyes and breathe into his hand. "But I promise you won't feel a thing," he assures me. And I believe him.

I know I want this. I know I want to be a part of whatever Rivian has to give or offer. I will live in a world of a thousand secrets and in a home built with forbidden walls as long as it means I get to feel as powerful as he’s making me feel right now. As long as I get to have whatever this is.

I open my eyes, finding him watching me have an internal conversation.

"Am I going to bleed?" I ask, feeling a little embarrassed and shy at the thought.

He lowers his head so that our foreheads are touching. "Fuck, I hope so," he admits and something savage awakes in me. "I hope you bleed for me forever, sweet sin."

I need him inside of me; I can't get his underwear down his body fast enough.

I pull myself into him, pressing my lips harshly against his skin. I taste the sweat that percolates and dribbles down his neck, it's salty and so deliriously satisfying as I kiss his neck. I suck and scratch and pull as he settles himself back between my legs.

I feel it before I see it.

His dick hangs heavy between us. Full, thick, and so hungry for my body. I see the glisten of his tip knowing that I've made him spill a little for me while he made me come. I swallow, not understanding how he thought two fingers would prepare me for the size of him. A god-awful joke now that I think about it.

"Rivian," I gasp, feeling his tip slide against my thigh. I'm so wet and I can't fucking handle the tension that’s coiled up inside of me. But at the same time, nerves rattle me as I think about the way I'm going to stretch for him.

"I won't lie to you, Cyn. It's going to fucking hurt. But I won't finish until you do, understand?" His strong arms hold himself up on either side of me and our centers line up with one another.

I feel so incredibly special to be in this position with Rivian. Why? Because he's dark, mysterious, invasive. He’s killed for me. He's elusive and powerful and right now, his dick is hard for nobody but me.

He reaches between us to grab the base of his cock. My mouth waters again but almost in agony. He searches my eyes for any indication that I'll tap out but instead I let out a little breath and ask, "Can I?"

He smirks. "Fuck, you are going to be my undoing, Lucynda." I feel pride in that statement. But I push it aside to find the courage to replace his hand with mine.

My breath hitches. The feel of his dick is like velvet against my skin. Warm and thick in my grasp as I hold him by the base just like he was demonstrating.

"I- um. I-"

He presses a finger to my lips. "Shh," he whispers as he quiets the words that I can’t seem to form.

"Put me in, baby. Let me know if it's too much and I'll stop." He sounds eager, but he wants to make sure I'm not in too much pain.

I thrust my ass up a little to line his cock with my entrance. He pushes into me gently and that's when I feel the contact of his tip touch me where I need him most.

"Fuck," he breathes out and I feel my face flood with blushes of lusty pinks and fiery reds.

"I'm trying to be patient, Cyn, but I need to be inside of you now." He's pained, and it creates little frissons of gratification to swarm my skin in delicate waves of goosebumps. He needs me as much as I need him.

I push him into me a little bit, needing to let go of him entirely to grip his shoulders at the sudden intrusion. The tip of his penis isn't even in me all the way yet and I'm already feeling the burn of being stretched.

He reaches beside him and trails his fingers intricately down my thigh then to my calf, taking his time as he caresses me. He brings my leg up to wrap around his back and holds it there for a beat while he feathers his lips against my chin. I understand his movement and do the same with the other so that both of my legs capture him in place against me as he pushes in a little more.

"God, you're so fucking tight." He lowers his head, pressing it against my own. His chest is now touching my breasts and I can feel our hearts beat in tandem with one another, creating a symphony of ecstasy as I acclimate to the size of my husband.

"More," I beg, knowing that he's stalling to benefit me. And as stretched as I already feel, the sting of him entering me hums in delight as I wait for more.

He thrusts a little deeper and I can feel myself on the verge of tears with how intrusive it's becoming. The pain is starting to take over my surges of pleasure.

"Rivian, you're too big. It-"

"I know, little one. But just hang on. I'll make it better soon." He moves in to press his lips against my neck, a spot where he knows I can't deny the enjoyment I feel as he kisses me there.

He pushes in a little more, I'm not even sure he's close to being all the way in yet, but to distract me from the pain he uses his teeth to graze against the parts that ache from where he bit into me earlier.

He coaxes me into adjusting to him by sliding out a little before sliding back in deeper. Tears escape the corners of my eye as I feel pressure from his girth. I can tell he's holding back so much desire to take me the way he'd really like to because he's barely holding on himself.

"I'm sorry," he whispers against my skin, confusion licking my brain but then, he pushes one last deep thrust rooting himself all the way to the hilt. I yelp, the tears now flooding silently down my face at the pain of being torn.

"Did you feel that, Cyn?" Rivian's gentle tone hides behind his true mask of his darkened demand as he leans into the shell of my ear. "That's what it feels like when I break you. Remember this feeling the next time you beg me to love you."

My breathing turns harsh as the beat of my heart accelerates. I should despise this man for eradicating me, for instilling his final threat upon me before taking from me the only thing I had left to give. But his promise is titillating. Maybe it's from the release of the torture I subjected myself to, the memory he pushed me to let free from my broken mind.

He thrusts harder and deeper. I still feel the twinge of his invasion, but it's a welcomed feeling as I watch the pure euphoria take over in Rivian's thunderous eyes. Tears still spill down my cheeks, slowing as I stretch for his cock, allowing it to provide me a little bit of friction as he hits a sweet note inside of me, making my song of pain turn to a slightly more enjoyable sound.

"There you go, baby. Relax yourself for me. Fuck, do you feel what you do to me?" Torment expands in his eyes before it explodes into shattered pieces of lust and desire, all being fulfilled as he uses my body to surrender his sexual gratification. One thing I craved to take from him since the night I saw him at the masquerade ball.

I slide my hands down to his sides to help keep us in tune as I work my own hips up, needing him deeper despite the distressing ache that still lingers.

I hold back my cries and try to enjoy the way his body feels against mine.

"When do we…" I let my question fade off as Rivian's groans skate across my ear lobe.

He pulls away to kiss me hard. His tongue using my own as some kind of retribution for the way I make him feel, almost like he hates me for it. He pushes into me; our bodies create a beautiful sound together.

"After I make you come again. I want to hear my name fall from your pretty little mouth one more time before I make you bleed for me, little one." And on that note, Riv presses his pelvis into me a little more and he aims to make me crumble.

"Oh, fuck!" I cry when he does exactly what he threatened. He is so deep inside of me and I can feel the pinpoint of pleasure from deep within unravel as he thrusts. This time, it's fucking rapturous. "Riv, I'm-"

"Louder, little sin. Let this kingdom know exactly who their queen fucking bows down for."

"Fuck, Rivian! I-" my voice gets trapped in the throes of my pleasure as my orgasm rips through me, sending my entire body into a frenzy of trembles as he seats himself so deep inside of me. He opens his mouth against my neck, and I quake with the anticipation he'll finally bite me, but he only licks against my skin as he lets himself express his own orgasm taking over his soul, his groans reverberating in the room around us and settles deep into my core.

"Jesus." His words are harsh as we both settle from the power that ignites between us.

His forehead rests against mine as our lungs fight for air. I can't move, but I need to free myself from the position, feeling cramps start to take over in my legs.

We lay like this for a beat, allowing ourselves to calm down from the high before he leads us to the next step.

The blood bind.

Rivian lifts his head and studies my eyes. He presses a finger against one of my tears before wiping away the evidence of my pain. He remains inside me, softening but still making me feel so full. He then takes his tear soaked finger and traces my bottom lip with it.

"You ready, Cyn?" He's asking for my permission again but I have no arguments on the subject. I'm ready.

I nod my head in silent approval and Rivian stretches out his arm before pulling wrist to his mouth. He bears his sharp teeth, his eyes swirling with black ribbons before he clamps down on his skin and bites into the flesh. Immediately, red liquid pours from the corners of his mouth which then drips down onto my skin but I don't cringe or twitch at the fluid now pooling on my chest. I watch in awe as he brings his wrist down to my mouth and presses it against my closed lips.

"Suck," he demands and like a woman starved, I open for him and allow his blood to drip onto my tongue. It's tangy, like the iron pills I took for a while when I found out I was anemic. But it's not at all what I was expecting. I grip the back of his wrist with my hand as I pull him in closer and I suck from the wounds, letting more of his blood seep down to the back of my throat before I swallow.

I feel a fresh surge of power sweep through me, almost like when you get hooked up to an IV at the hospital and the liquid they pump into you gets flushed through your veins.

He removes his wrist from my lips and I feel dribbles of his blood trail down my chin.

I see the desire light up in his eyes. He likes me like this and I love the way he's looking at me.

I strain my neck for him, knowing exactly where I want his teeth.

But before he makes his move, he lowers his lips to my nipple where a few drops of his blood are and he darts his tongue to clean me off, letting himself enjoy the peaked bud of my breast before sucking the rest of the blood from my skin.

Then he finally finds his way into the crook of my neck where, without warning, he breaks into my skin and I shudder at the way his dick twitches inside of me. I'm already so wound up again, that when he reaches between us to press his middle finger into my clit and provides me with friction by making little circles around it, I nearly shatter again.

Between the invasion of his teeth in my neck, his tongue lapping up the metallic liquid I provide him and the touches of his rough finger against my sweet spot, I come.

I come so fucking hard I see stars.

He abuses my neck while putting me back together with the rhapsodic way he touches me.

He leans up, blood dripping from his mouth and his eyes start to turn back to their normal emerald state before he grips my head in the palms of both of his hands, one on either side of my neck. He forces my eyes on his and the last thing I hear him say before he really breaks me this time is, "You consume me, my sweet sin. It's fucking treacherous."

And then he snaps my neck.