Page 51 of Tears of Revenge

Varos paid him no mind. Instead, he gripped her chin and directed her mouth to Lysander’s neck. “How about you silence Lysander while I make this as quick as possible?”

She paused, searching for Lysander’s permission. He rolled his head to the side again, tickling his fingers up her spine until they wrapped around her neck and guided her down. Her fangs found his pulse and sunk in, his sweet nectar filling her mouth.

He shifted beneath her, his other arm closing around her waist as he rose to his feet. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on him and him alone. She listened to the beat of his heart in his chest and the sound of air filling his lungs. She used his body’s sounds like a white noise, losing herself in the moment.

Then a door opened, and she was laid down on a soft mattress. Lysander laid over her, and she arched into him to feel that rigid bulge once more.

“Will you let me be yours?” he groaned, voice thick with desire.

Unwilling to stop drinking, she answered by unbuttoning his jeans.

Lysander shifted slightly and helped her push them down, careful not to wrench out of her fang’s grip. Once he was freed, her eager fingers wrapped around his erection. He was long and thick, with a curve she was curious to explore.

Now it was her turn to undress. Lysander carefully reached between them and tugged her leggings down, tossing them aside. His blood made her head spin, the warmth of it soothing her sore throat like nothing else. Once she was bare, his fingers danced over her knees and up her thighs, halting before going where she was burning for his touch.

“I will stop any time you want. If you only want to feed, you can. If it hurts—if I’m hurting you— you tell me, and I’ll stop.”

She hummed her agreement and pushed her hips towards him.

Lysander took another breath, pausing once more before his hand dipped between her thighs. He easily found her clit, circling lightly, then adding more pressure. She tightened her grip, swiping her thumb through his precum dripping from his slit before lowering her hand down. Lysander groaned, damn near rattling the walls, but only his blood and touch were important to her.

He swiftly moved on from her clit, gliding his hand farther down and slipping a single finger into her entrance. Just like Marcus and Varos, he was careful, gently working her open with one finger while his palm pressed down on her clit.

“You feel good. So damn good, Ava.”

Bucking into his touch, she answered with a moan.

She rewarded him with a twist of her wrist over his cockhead, repeating the movement until Lysander was an incoherent mess. He thrusted into her fist, his blood pressure skyrocketing and blood filling her mouth at a rate she could hardly keep up with. He gave her a second finger, quickly adding a third when she didn’t protest.

“I need you, sweet little Ava,” he whimpered, almost sounding like he was begging.

She couldn’t resist, spread her legs, and placed his tip at her entrance.

“Fuck,” he gritted out through clenched teeth, rocking his hips forward.

Lysander was big, but nothing the sweet tang of his blood couldn’t help with. He shifted again, cradling her head in his hands.

“Touch yourself for me,” he demanded. “Show me what you like.”

She was no stranger to pleasuring herself—she’d even bought a toy to try. Now she wished she had it with her. She leaned into the high, the combination of that and her fingers tapping against her clit hurling her towards her climax.

“So tight,” Lysander panted. “So good. If I’m going too fast, tell me.”

Quite the opposite: he wasn’t going fast enough. She rolled her hips, plunging him deeper inside her. Her fingers moved, faster and faster until Lysander bottomed out. He didn’t give her much time to adjust, immediately pulling back and snapping his hips forward. Her hand against her clit made it easier to take his size. With Varos and Marcus, it had been different. She’d been high from the feeding, barely noticing when Marcus replaced his fingers with his cock.

With Lysander, it all went faster. It wasn’t bad, just different. One thing was certain, though: she felt safe. She knew that if she said the word, they would stop.

She matched Lysander thrust for thrust and rushed herself to her climax with her fingers and her fangs deep in his flesh. That slight curve to his cock was just enough to hit the right spot every time.

“Fuck, you’re going to make me come,” he groaned, his struggle evident.

She quivered beneath him, trembling with the first waves of her own orgasm.

“Shit, you’re coming.” His pace fell uneven, his climax imminent. “You’re doing so well. Make yourself come for me.”

Her jaw clenched, sealing her teeth into his neck as those sparks turned into fireworks. He fell with her, his cock swelling and pulsing, a hot rush of cum spilling inside her.

“So beautiful,” he praised, breathless.