My whole body is tingling, a warm rush of pleasure spreading through me in what I know is a precursor to an orgasm, and I dig my heels into the floor as my mouth falls open.
And then, finally, Rome bites.
His teeth sink into my thigh just like his cock might sink into my pussy, solid and smooth and invasive but so, so welcome.
My breath stops as the pleasure inside me finally crests, and I tremble all over as Rome slides two thick fingers inside me. He can already tell I’m wet and slick for him, so he doesn’t go slow, doesn’t ease me into it. He just fucks me with them hard and fast as his lips clamp around my thigh and his throat moves, welcoming the blood that fills his mouth.
Ecstasy keeps crashing through me, the height of the orgasm seeming to last forever instead of cresting and fading like it normally does. Some insane part of me wonders if he’s drinking my pleasure, consuming it right along with my blood, tasting and devouring everything he’s making me feel.
When the waves of sensation finally stop slamming into me, my body goes lax against the stone. My eyelids are only half open, but I force my eyes to focus as I watch Rome slowly release my inner thigh from his mouth. Streaks of red stain his lips and teeth as he drags his tongue over my skin, cleaning up most of the blood and sealing the wounds. His fingers are still buried inside me, and for the first time, he looks up to meet my gaze as he draws them out and laps at them too.
Watching the red of my blood mix with the slick, clear fluid of my arousal sends a visceral reaction tearing through me. It’s too strong for me to even identify it.
Is it desire? Revulsion? Horror? Need?
Maybe it’s all of those mixed together, existing simultaneously and creating an emotion that wouldn’t even exist outside of this exact situation.
“Rome,” I say again. It’s not a command or a plea. I don’t know what it is, I just know that I still need something.
His tongue slides out to lick his lips, gathering the last bits of my cream and my blood. Then he moves, crawling up my body with the kind of speed only a vampire can manage. This time, he tears a hell of a lot more than my panties. His fingers grasp the bodice of my dress and rip, and the thing comes apart in his hands like it’s made of goddamn tissue paper. I’m naked in seconds, and before I can register the chill of the air on my body, Rome drops his head, finding my breasts with his hungry, demanding mouth.
I clutch at his hair, biting my lip so hard I’m afraid I’ll draw more blood, and he growls against my skin. I try to pull his shirt off, or his pants, but he won’t let me. He refuses to draw back enough to let me get them off, and after I try for the third time, he grunts and sits back. Instead of reaching for his clothes, he grabs my hips and flips me over.
My heart lurches, my body instinctively tensing as I steady myself on my hands and knees. There’s a rustling sound behind me, and I look back to realize that Rome still hasn’t taken his damn clothes off—but he’s shoved his pants down far enough to free his cock.
Holy fuck.
It’s pierced all the way along the shaft, barbells that cut across the bottom of his length in a Jacob’s Ladder. He’s long and thick and hard, and the metal of his cock piercings catch the light just like the piercing in his nose does as he moves closer to me. He holds my gaze as he grabs my hips with both hands, finding my slick entrance with the head of his cock.
Then he slams inside me.
My whole body rocks forward, a guttural grunt falling from my lips as my pussy clenches around him. I can feel every one of his piercings dragging against my walls, and my head droops as he draws back and thrusts in again, using his hold on my hips to guide me back and forth on his cock.
He fucks me hard and fast, making me think that all that teasing he did to me earlier got to him too. He fucks me like he couldn’t hold back or slow down even if he wanted to, like he can’t help himself. Even when my pussy clamps down like a vise around him, he still doesn’t stop, shortening his strokes and digging his fingers into my hips as he keeps pounding into me.
With a whispered scream, I come in a blinding rush, and he buries himself inside me one more time as his cock pulses and jerks. I expect him to pull out or maybe collapse on top of me, but he draws out partway and then slides in again as a trail of our combined arousal slides down my leg. He keeps doing that, keeps moving in and out of me as if he really and truly can’t stop.
My head stops spinning after a while, my vision clearing and my breath returning to semi-normal as he thrusts gently.
“I wanted you,” he murmurs, and I know I’m the you he’s talking about, but I don’t even know if he’s speaking to me right now. It sounds more like he’s talking to himself. “Even when I knew I shouldn’t. I knew you were trouble.” He makes a low sound that’s almost a laugh. “I was wrong about what kind of trouble, but I knew.”
I want to ask him what he knew and how he knew it, and why he thought he shouldn’t want me. But before I can say anything, he
