I press my thighs together again. Belatedly, I forget that my knee is in his crotch. So instead of pressing my thighs together, I rub up against the anaconda. It slithers closer to me.
When Virius spoke about his dick, it wasn’t with pride. It was with wariness. He spoke as though his manhood was separate from him as a man.
My hand trails down his chest, which is now bare and rid of that awful shirt. As I move south, the snake under wraps pulses against my thigh. With a glance upwards, I see that Virius still slumbers peacefully.
Maybe his dick does have a mind of its own because it is certainly not slumbering. It’s coiling inside the fabric, like a snake being charmed by the movements of my hand. As I inch closer, it waves, bobbing and weaving to the sound of my quickening breaths.
I move closer. I am at the knot of the toga. With a tug of my thumb, the tie loosens. Just one more tug, and it’ll be enough to set the monster free. The monster moves closer to the binding, ready to strike. My fingers poise to tug, and then—
A hand clamps down on my wrist. I look up to see Virius’s eyes open and on me. He doesn’t say a word, but censure is written all over his face.
“You know this is part of the deal,” I say. “In two nights, there will be a lunar eclipse and we’ll sleep together and make a baby; a son. It’s prophesied.”
“Prophecies are not always what they seem.”
“It’s my destiny to conceive your child and restore the rightful ownership and fruitfulness to the vineyard.”
“I’ve given you the land.” He kisses my fingertips, flicking his tongue over a hangnail I’ve been tugging at all day. “We are having trouble with the crop, but there are people working on it.”
I know that Marechal Durand is working to figure out why the Serrano vines aren’t bearing fruit. I tried to tell her her logic and chemicals would have no effect, but she didn’t listen. Now she’s mated to Gaius Serrano, which she doesn’t seem at all put out about.
That still doesn’t mean she can get the grapes to grow. Only breaking the curse will. And to do that, Virius will need to get busy putting a baby in me.
“I’m rich, you know,” he says without any of the scumminess that a man born in wealth would say. “I can give you whatever you want.”
“I want to fulfill my destiny. That means you coming inside me. Literally.”
“You want me inside you, and you want to come?”
“Yes.”
“Done.”
Before I can gasp in shock, the air is knocked out of me. Virius flips me on my back and is over me. He tugs my pants down and is between my legs. He spreads my thighs wide, and then he’s inside of me.
But not in the way I just asked for. I can’t be bothered to mind as he makes good on his word—and I am coming while he’s inside of me.
Chapter 11
Virius
I warned her that prophecies are not always what they seem at face value. Words are passed down from one person to another. Translated into different languages, all of which have different meanings.
Zahara wanted me to be inside her while she came. I was happy to oblige in her pleasure. Only not with the part of me that she wanted.
With her naked and stripped bare, I shove my tongue into her cunny. No preamble. No light, little flicks. She didn’t ask for that. She asked to have me inside her, and I am.
I have never done this myself. My tongue is a normal size. The women who paid to see me only wanted my cock and the unnatural tight fullness it could give them. They weren’t interested in using or hearing from my mouth, so I’ve never performed oral sex. But I’ve seen it done many times.
I lift my head as I spread Zahara’s thighs. Her cunny is a beautiful blush of dark pink. The ripest of berries.
Her scent makes me dizzy with want. The beast below stirs, throbbing and pulsing as I take her in. I’ve never had much control over my cock. It rose and fucked with its own mind. I would simply turn my mind off until it released into whatever woman was using it. Once it released and went limp, I slowly came back to myself. Until it stirred again, ready to service another.
I ignore it now as it throbs with need. I want this for myself. I don’t want to zone out and miss a single second of Zahara. Not with her pretty mewls and her urgent pants. Her claws dig into my shoulders, enough so I bleed.
I should tell her to stop. But I don’t. I like the thought of my blood on her. I want all to know that she is mine.
I put my nose right up to her flesh, and inhale. She is heaven. My fangs ache to take a bite of her and bring more of that ambrosia inside of myself.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice a mix of desire and uncertainty.
“I don’t know,” I admit. It’s hard to form words over the throbbing of both my cock and my fangs.
“Were you about to bite me?”
I close my mouth, but it’s impossible to swallow down the evidence of my desire.
“Don’t,” she says.
Her eyes flash with what I know is fear. Doesn’t she know that I would rip out my fangs if I thought they would hurt her? Already, I’m contemplating castration.
I know Zahara wants my cock, but it can’t give her what she wants. Vampires cannot create new life. My cock has nothing to give her. But I do.
I force my fangs back before I promise her, “I won’t bite you.”
Those are the last words that I am capable of forming. Zahara eyes me warily, but she is powerless to stop what is
