Page 29 of Little Mate
It further proves just how untouched she is.
Pure. My little virgin.
I can scent her innocence.
Another soft pass, and then I bring my hand under her back and up until I’m gripping the base of her neck, fisting the soft waves there and forcing her head back. I love this angle. Gabriella’s neck is arched, back exposed, and her pouty lips quiver in anticipation.
“Say you’re mine.” I all but snarl against her mouth, and the pupils of her eyes widen. The scent of want and lust permeates around us. Hers and mine. “Vow it.”
“Theo, I—”
“Fuck, pretty girl. Again.” The way the shortened version of my name rolls off her tongue is an aphrodisiac. It’s hell keeping myself under control; the things I want to do to her, with her, are blasphemous. “Say it.”
“Theo, I’m yours and you are mine.” No doubt. She says this so prettily.
“We are one.” This time it’s her who attacks, giving into her nature while fighting my hold on her head to meet my lips in a feral kiss. It’s a sign of her own possession, hunger, and I return the sentiment while acclimating her to my touch. No more gentle caresses, now it’s raw and passionate, our tongues intertwine and stroke, memorize each other—learning—and each pleasurable sigh from her is tattooed onto my flesh, settling on the tip of my hard cock that flexes against her heat.
The bottom of her thin dress shifts a bit, allowing me to press a little harder against her core. She’s wet for me, and it seeps through the linen of my trousers, kissing my cock. It flexes and she pulses, our mouths moving in tandem with each thrust.
It feels so good to hold her like this. Even with clothes separating our flesh, nothing has ever felt so satisfying. Frustrating, yet pleasurable.
I want nothing to separate us. To feast on both her blood and pussy, but my beauty is untouched, and our first time will not be rushed. I’d never forgive myself if she regretted having me as her destined.
To the world, I’m a monster, but for her, I’ll be gentle. Be the man she needs.
Her hips buck beneath me and her thighs shake. “I’m…This is different than when I—”
“Let go, pretty girl. I have you.”
“Help me.” Gabriella’s sinful plea forces my fangs to drop. I can’t stop it. Nature overrides my desire to be gentle and I gift her a harsh nip to the corner of her top lip, raking my sharp tooth over the abused flesh as I thrust again, three times in quick succession.
The skin breaks. Blood rises to the small wound.
“Come for me,” I demand before tasting the forbidden fruit once again. Her scream rends the air, her pussy pulsing against my covered length, and it’s that sweet sound of rapture that slams into me.
My orgasm is hard and cruel, nearly painful with the need to have her skin on skin, but I ignore it and focus on the way her scent magnifies, infiltrates every nook of my bedroom and settles into the walls. Then, there are the low moans she emits. How she shakes and her fingers pull me closer, her mouth now hovering over mine.
“You’re mine,” she whimpers. “Only mine.”
“Yes.” Slowly, I bring her down from her peak. My body cocoons hers while my lips trail from the edge of her hairline down to her chin. It takes a while for the aftershocks to subside and her body to succumb to exhaustion, but I revel in the moment she does.
Eyes closed, Gabriella looks like a delicate doll, but I now know better. She traveled far to find me, not knowing who I am to her. She’s brave and protective of her people, going as far as to pull a knife on me.
My little warrior. My cunning queen.
“I’m going to burn the world to the ground in your name, Gabriella. Gods help those who wronged you because I’m going to enjoy bathing us in their blood.”
9
GABRIELLA
The sun warms my skin, relaxing me as I sit in an open field full of sunflowers. They sway in the breeze, giving me their sweet scent as two figures walk toward me. I’m not alarmed by their presence, if anything, I’m smiling. A feeling of pure joy reverberates throughout my body.
I missed them.
“You came.”
“We are always near, my sweet child,” Dad chides softly, his tone indulgent, but there’s also a small hint of reprimand there. He holds a hand out for me to take and I do, letting him pull me up and into a strong hug. And at that moment, I breathe for the first time in months without the ever-present sense of choking that’s accompanied me since their deaths. “No more crying, Gabriella. We are okay.”