Page 119 of Burn for Her

Her breaths became shallow.

A few more flicks and Lena exploded in a soundless cry that had her straining. She came violently. Endlessly. Dorian fused his mouth to her core, attacking her clit with no mercy, and her orgasm doubled down.

Her knees gave out and he caught her before she fell.

“Good girl.” He licked her cream off his mouth and tongued one of his fangs playfully. “I think I found a new way for you to come.”

“Or die,” she said breathlessly. “Holy shit, what did you do to me?”

“Worshipped you… as is my honor as your mate.”

Once she could stand on her own again, Dorian washed her hair and took his good old time sudsing up her body. She could do nothing but stand with her face buried in his chest, inhaling his scent like he was the only air her lungs would allow in.

“You’re incredible,” he said while rinsing her hair one last time.

She tipped her head back to look at him. His bruises and cuts had finally disappeared. It made her feel more at ease because seeing him hurt, for any reason, made her feel murderous. Smiling, he trailed his middle finger along the underside of her breasts, lazily, playfully. Then he brought his wrist up to his mouth and bit down, piercing his skin and opening a vein. The act sent a shiver down her back.

“Drink,” he said, his eyes black as coals again. “Don’t stop until I say so.”

With the water turning cold, she latched onto his wrist and drank deeply until the world, the room, Dorian, and herself fell away into darkness.

Chapter 38

Lying face down on the floor, Dorian cracked his eyes open and groaned. Holy shit, had he been hit by a semi? Christ, his fangs throbbed. He must have fallen off the bed at some point after crashing in euphoric bliss and blood loss. Bracing his arms, he—

Nope, he couldn’t even move his arms let alone use them to push up. What the hell? Did he have six-hundred-pound weights strapped to his limbs or something? He sucked in a couple deep breaths and tried once more, with feeling.

Grunting and groaning, Dorian was able to lift his torso up enough to see Lena’s ankle dangling off the bed. He pulled his sore ass up on all fours and crawled over to her. She was lightly snoring and perfectly at peace. Boy, did that light his ass up with bliss.

For fate to gift him something this spectacular, this damn precious and perfect? Holy shit. He gently ran his hand through her hair, swiping it back from her face. Climbing into the bed with her, Dorian carefully got into a better position to hold her while she slept off the last bit of her big change.

Lena went through her transition like a warrior. He knew she would, but watching her go through the phases of morphing from human to full-fledged vampire was remarkable. Even when she thrashed around, swung her fists, kicked her legs, clawed and bitten him in the very beginning, he was enraptured and more madly in love than he thought was possible.

He encouraged her to keep swinging, keep going. Embrace those emotions and let them embed in her new body. That fight in her? That savage violence was a survival skill. He wanted her to have as much of it as possible. Dorian took her pounding and coaxed as much violence out of her as he could. She’d held back, he knew that, but what she dished out was plenty.

Blood curses and blood gifts were tricky. Whatever emotions Dorian harbored, any amount of toxicity he carried, could filter into Lena’s system, and change her during her transition. Turning someone was a delicate and precarious thing.

So, when he turned her, Dorian made sure his intentions and heart were the purest they’d ever been. He gave her only love, protection, adoration, and boundless loyalty. Trust and encouragement. Strength. The rest that came after? That violence? That hunger? That insatiable need for both pleasure and pain at once? That was all Lena. Those were gifts already pumping in her veins - her inner strength, her secret desires - all Dorian did was invite them to come out and play. He only fortified what she already was.

His perfect mate. His alakhai. Lena was built for him and his world.

“Dorian,” her sultry, sleepy voice gave him an instant hard-on.

“I’m here.” Holy shit, his throat ached like he had shards of glass jammed in it. “I’m right here.”

“I’m thirsty,” she mumbled into her pillow.

Holy Hell, he didn’t think he had any blood left to give her, but what he had was all hers. The mating thread between them was like a constant tug on his instincts. As if his very existence was to serve her, and it would be his honor to do so for the rest of his life. He was the luckiest son-of-a-bitch in the whole wide world.

“Here,” he said, rolling over and brought his arm up to his mouth to bite and break his skin for her.

She lashed out with lightning speed and stopped him. “Water,” she purred. “I need water, Dorian.”

He blinked slowly, “Hang on.” He groaned as his bones cracked.

Lena shot straight up, eyes wide with terror. “Holy shit,” she squeaked. “What’s… what’s all over you?”

Welts, bites, bruises, deep cuts, scratches. The answer depended on where you looked.