Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
My ears begin to ring as another orgasm hits me, and if I wasn’t being held up by Xavier’s strong arms right now, my knees would give out and I’d collapse into a puddle of pure exhilaration on the floor. Fangs still drawn, he puts his mouth to the other side of my neck and bites me again. This time, it hurts more than before, probably because my entire body is awake, with every single nerve tingling and feeling more pleasure than I ever have in my entire life.
He drinks my blood as he fucks me against the wall, and the pain draws out the orgasm, making it more intense. My legs start to shake and he slows down, knowing I’m close to passing out from everything. Pulling his head back, he gently licks at my wounds and then takes my own hand from his shoulder and puts my fingers on the bites, applying pressure so they’ll clot faster.
He holds me close and steps back, going back to the tapestry on the floor. Moving slowly, he lowers us both down but this time I’m on top. His eyes widen and he lets his eyes wander down my body as he reaches up, cupping my breasts with his hands.
“You are so fucking beautiful, Wren,” he growls and I take my hand off my neck. There’s blood on my fingers, and it smears across his chest when I put my hands on him. Pitching forward, I start rocking my hips back and forth. He’s inside me at a different angle and my mouth falls open as I feel my body prepare to come once more.
Xavier’s large hand goes to the back of my head and he brings my face to his, kissing me and smearing my own blood on my lips. He holds me close, kissing me with so much fucking passion. My pussy tightens around his cock, and he comes right as I do. His dick pulses inside me, and that sensation pushes me over the edge.
We come at the same time, and Xavier pulls me down so I’m resting on his chest. I’m panting, heart racing, and I couldn’t form a coherent thought much less tell anyone my name if they asked. We resituate so my head is on his chest, and Xavier grabs his shirt from next to us, using it to cover me up. Then he trails his fingers up and down my back and I moan softly, never wanting this to end.
“I think I’m falling asleep,” I mumble as he continues to run his fingers up and down my back.
“You should rest,” he tells me and kisses the side of my head. “You lost a decent amount of blood.”
“Does my blood taste different because I’m a witch?”
“Yes,” he answers right away.
“But that’s, like, good, right?”
He softly chuckles. “Very good. I’m not sure how to describe it in a way you can relate, but the magic adds to it.”
“Isn’t that why vampires got so mad at witches all those years ago? You can taste the magic but it does nothing to you in terms of giving you powers.”
“That was one of the reasons.”
I snuggle closer to him, knowing the back of my mind that we’re naked on the floor of a mausoleum and need to get up before someone finds us. Or at the very least before the sun comes up. As if he can read my mind, Xavier pulls me onto him and sits up so I’m in his lap. The way he can just move me around like I weigh nothing is so freaking hot.
“Let’s find somewhere to stay,” he says.
“I don’t have anything with me.”
“I’ll buy you whatever you need.” He sets me down, holding onto me so I don’t lose my balance, and wraps his suit jacket around my body. We quietly put our clothes back on and he takes my hand as we leave the mausoleum.
“Would you like a minute alone?” Xavier asks quietly as we start to make our way through the graveyard. The spell has worn off and the crystal is just an ordinary crystal again, not glowing at all.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.”
I keep my hand in his on the way to my family’s gravesite. A chill comes over me and I’m glad Xavier kept his jacket around my shoulders. Nodding, I pull my hand from his and take a few paces forward, stopping in front of the grave.
“Hi,” I say softly. “It’s Florence, your daughter. I didn’t die, but you know that since I’m not in heaven with you…if that’s where we actually go when we die.” I swallow back tears, knowing a therapist would have a fucking field day with me. The woman who killed my mom was like a mother to me. I loved her in that way. Cared for her. Protected and defended her. Obeyed her every order and bent over backwards for her approval. I haven’t even had time to process that guilt yet.