Vampyre Bride ✔️

XL⎮Blood Bound

The flame weltered as the night breathed its dark musk into the room through the open window, incensing Markus's smoky amber with wild heather and oakmoss. Emma glutted her senses on the feel and taste of him, breathed deeply the earthy labdanum that clung to his hair as his lips brushed tenderly over her throat.

By degrees he dragged his mouth ever upwards until he'd taken complete possession of hers, igniting a burst of bright flames in her core where there had been glowing embers before. Emma closed her fists in his hair and urged his kisses deeper and deeper, but he withstood her urgency, lingering and savoring her lips at his leisure. With a soft chuckle, he gently unfettered her fingers and removed them to the pillow over her head, whereupon he restrained both wrists in the palm of his hand. In due course, the fingertips of his other hand began a slow tour down her ribs, delaying over her breasts with light touches that only heightened her fervor. She made to wrest her hands free, but he easily thwarted her efforts and, consequently, undertook to punish her with wicked enthusiasm. He sucked her bottom lip between his sharp teeth with a warning nip while the hand that had been traveling southward suddenly ceased its progress, prolonging the sweet thrumming agony of her flesh. She gave a frustrated moan, but stilled her writhing, though she could do nothing to calm the eager trembling that overtook her body.

Satisfied that he had made his point, Markus released her hands and planted them firmly either side of her restive hips, giving each hand a peremptory squeeze, which served as a tacit warning to keep them whence he bade them stay. Unwilling to further distract him from his heady caresses, she dug her nails, instead, into the mattress and bit her lip against the force of her lust. A light dew had, meanwhile, gathered over her skin, her flesh glistening like satin in the candlelight, of which Markus availed himself with thirstful strokes of his tongue. By and by, his quest betook him to her navel where, with a distrait finger, he described the shape of her crescent birthmark.

"It is well I can do nothing more than touch and kiss you tonight," said he. Amusement curled his lips as he watched her thrust herself up onto her elbows, brows knitting in consternation. "Do not look at me like that, my beauty, or you will test my willpower. We vampyres have little enough restraint, you know."

"I want more than kisses, Markus."

"I assure you I am more than able to satiate your hunger with kisses, and what a pleasure it will be to prove it."

She tilted her head, her face smoothing into a feline smile, and then reposed herself once more in his voluptuary ministrations. "I don't doubt your prowess." She gave a sudden gasp as he settled his mouth between her thighs. "But"—she gasped again and bit her lip, reveling in sultry torture—"but I want you to—oh, heavens!—Markus, I want..."

"I know."

"Then..." She was rendered a primal creature unable to speak in whole sentences. "Then you will...?"

"No, Emma." He raised his head—much to her dismay—then shifted himself forward so that his face hovered over hers, whereupon he settled his great weight onto his elbows. "For two reasons." With a pointed look and an arched brow, he gestured to the great disparity in their sizes. "The first is that the nature of my current physiology makes our coupling quite impossible. That is until I recover from the effects of the poison."

Well, she couldn't very well argue that point—she had no desire, leastwise not a suicidal desire, to test the hardiness of her body against the colossal proportions of his.

"Secondly," he continued, "I have bound your blood to mine, and with that comes certain ramifications."

"Bound my blood to yours?"