I had come here to learn more about my three “saviors” from the least-talkative one’s perspective. To learn more about him, the resistance, why he loathed me, and why Skartovius was the way he was.
I came here for things to start makingsense. . . not to be filled with evermore confusion.
I did not come here expecting to have my lips sealed over Vallan’s, or to have our bodies crushed together while we explored each other with our hands and tongues.
Yet here I was. Lost in his bulky body, smothered by him, growing more excited by the second. The thrum of my pulse was a drumbeat now, hammering in my ears as he sucked on my tongue and licked my face and tore my tunic open to expose my breasts with a forceful bounce.
I gasped when Vallan took what he wanted, eyes roving hungrily over my heavy tits and voluptuous curves. He grabbed me by the waist and crushed me against his hard body again, an obscene bulge prodding my belly.
Then he sniffed the air. “You’re bleeding.”
My eyes widened, sweat beginning to line my brow. “I . . . my moon cycle began before I came here. Maybe the carriage ride instigated it.”
He grunted. “I can smell the perfume of it.”
My eyes couldn’t get any wider, but my face could get redder, and it did. I tried to look away bashfully but Vallan gripped my chin with his gloved hand and puckered my lips together.
He showed none of the softness or doting qualities of Skar or Garro. He turned my face left and right, inspecting my shamefaced features.
I stood my ground, knowing I would perish if I let this barbarous man take complete charge. “Tell me, Vallan, are you going to fuck me like you hate me?”
His nostrils flared and his beard twitched. “I’m going to fuck you like you want to be fucked—hard, rough, and without mercy. It does’t mean I hate you, silverblood. It means I can’tstandto be away from you for another minute. I’ve been at war with myself since you first arrived.”
My brow stitched together in confusion. “You’ve known me for such short a time.”
“A single day, an hour, aminute, is long enough to know you. In the long droning lives of vampires, your presence has been a weight on my mind for decades. I’ve felt I’ve known you for an eon. My kind may be heartless, but I know what to feel when I see what I crave. I’veneverfelt like this before.”
My breath hitched when he slammed his lips over mine roughly, taking what he felt he was owed. He kept my face held, neck craned to meet him.
Even with his forceful, domineering advances, I didn’t feel fear with Vallan Stellos. He had given me the answer I desired—his reason for acting.
“The girl from the Chained Sisters. Lyroan.”
His grunt was a growl this time, baring his fangs as he pulled back. “I don’t wish to speak of her.”
“Too bad. She complained you no longer visited her room. Why?” I had my suspicions.
“You know why.”
“. . . And when did you stop with her?”
“The day you arrived, silverblood.”
I tried to answer back—his lips were all over me the next second, peppering kisses up and down my naked torso, from my neck to my shoulder to my breasts. He was savage and ravenous.
He took my peaked nipples in his mouth and lightly teased, nibbling, flicking his tongue, groping my flesh with his smooth gloves, making all my reservations go sideways.
I tried to skitter backward. He didn’t let me. His iron-band arm wrapped around my waist and brought me against his chest with another shameful jiggle.
I tightened when he reached behind me and peeled my pants down over the swell of my ass. He had me naked in seconds, never keeping his lips far from my torched skin. I ripped his shirt off, which showed a battlefield of scars and burn marks along his sturdy chest and muscled arms. My gaze drifted south to the mound thickening by the second between his legs.
He didn’t wait for me to coax him into disrobing the rest of his clothes—he did the honors by snarling and ripping his pants off.
Vallan’s cock swung heavily between his thighs, weighed down by its own size. Where Skar was long and smooth and velvety, and Garro was just right, Vallan was incredibly thick and dangerous—an angry hue to his engorged cock that pulsed with veins and the same temperament I anticipated from a savage vampire with untold “urges.”
“That,” I muttered, pointing down between us, “will not fit.”
“Yes it will. I’ll make it.”
