A groan left me, and I heard her crying out as she came. Thrusting my hand between her legs, I shoved two fingers into her cunt and pumped them in and out, feeling her milking the digits. “That hurts so good, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” My words were murmured against her flesh because I was too greedy to unlatch my fangs. She tasted too fucking good. The best.
She moaned and nodded and that’s what fucking sent me over the edge.
I kept my fangs buried deep as I orgasmed, pumping her ass full of cum. The sounds that came from me were broken up and animalistic.
When I pulled away, watching her blood drip in two trails down her neck. I reached up and smeared it around, painting her with the gore.
“Look at me.”
She blinked her eyes open, her expression dazed and orgasmic-filled. I held up my bloody fingers and pressed them to her mouth. “See how good you taste.” I shoved the digits into her mouth without waiting for a response. But my girl was all about this. She sucked on them, moaning around my fingers and pulling more cum from me.
With a grunt, I pulled back until my still rock-hard cock came free. I grabbed the length and stroked myself, my body shuddering as I came a little bit more. The jets of semen shot out, landing in thick ropes on her ass and pussy.
“That’s it.” I gathered the cum and pushed it into her pussy. “I belong here. I want you full of my seed. Always.”
“Mmm.”
I smeared the rest of my cum all over her pussy and ass, making sure she was marked and smelled like me.
I ran my hands up and down her sides, kissing the parts of her I could reach.
“My sweet girl. You’re so precious to me,” I murmured against the center of her back. “The most important thing in my life.” I inhaled deeply. The droplets of sweat disappeared as her skin cooled. “I now realize that before you I was dead. The living dead. Only surviving.” My chest ached; my heart seized. “I’ll never let you go. I’d rather die than let that happen.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Sebastian.” She shifted underneath me and I backed up.
When she stood, I smoothed out her shirt, her pants torn to shit, but she didn’t care as she smiled at me.
I pulled her in and wrapped my arms around her body, not even bothering with adjusting my slacks. For long minutes I just held her, smoothing my hand up and down her back, the bloodthirsty fiend in me content for the time being as it had its mate close.
“What would you…” she said softly, then stopped.
I buried my face in her hair again, inhaling the sweetest scent that clung to her.
“What is it, baby?”
When she didn’t say anything for so long, I pulled back to cup the side of her face. “What is it, sweetheart?”
She had this nervous expression on her face that instantly had me on alert. But before I could start demanding who had hurt her so I could go fuck them up, she smiled and cupped my cheek. That small touch instantly stilled the vengeful demon inside of me.
“So protective,” she murmured. “I wanted to ask how you felt about children.”
For a second her question caught me off guard. “Children?”
She swallowed, her throat working as she nodded.
The scent of her nervousness rose up, and I scowled, hating that she was on edge around me. “I’ve never in my life had an opinion on children.” I shrugged.
She stared off, her brows lowering.
“Did some little shit say something to you?” She glanced at me and arched an eyebrow. “I mean, I don’t hurt children, but I’ll give them a stern talking-to about respect. Or I can kick their father’s ass for not teaching them better.”
She just blinked at me before she burst out laughing. “Gods, I love you.” As soon as she said the words, her eyes widened and she snapped her mouth closed.
My heart, which had calmed its frantic tempo from fucking the hell out of Ada, picked up speed again at her confession.
“Say it again,” I demanded, frantic to hear those three words spilling from her lush mouth. I shook my head and closed my eyes, then said softer, gentler, “Please, say them again, sweetheart.”
Ada reached up, cupped my cheeks, and rose onto her toes to press her lips against mine. “Sebastian Darris… I love you.” She kissed me once, twice, and a third little peck. “I love you so much that it’s kind of annoying how obsessed I am with you.”
I crushed her to me and kissed her for so long I knew she couldn’t breathe. I knew I was holding her too tightly. But Jesus Christ, I couldn’t help it. My mate loved me. Me. A fucking insane lunatic who’d killed for sport for over a century. Me, who’d been called a sociopath and embraced that title because it was true.