Chapter 122: THE COMPLETED BOND (2)
Varziel pulled his fangs from her neck with a reluctant groan, his lips smeared with her blood that shimmered faintly in the low light. He gave her neck a lick, cleaning up the blood that had pooled there. It was unlike any blood he had tasted before—sweet, searing, and so potent it made his entire body tremble with the force of it. The grip that he had on her waist tightened momentarily as if to ground himself, to keep from losing control entirely.
On the other hand, Arella shuddered in his arms, eyes fluttering closed. It was obvious that she was getting as much pleasure from this just as he was. Her legs threatened to give out, and Varziel was there instantly, lowering her gently to her knees with him as if they were entering prayer. And in a way... they were. This was not merely a bond. It was a consecration.
The mark on her neck had already begun to slowly change—glowing faintly. Little threads of light and shadow wove together, forming a delicately intricate symbol that rested just above her pulse: a winged sigil, half angelic feather, half demonic flame. It pulsed in sync with her heartbeat, and when she looked up into his face, she saw the reflection of that symbol in his eyes, glowing just faintly over the place he had bitten.
He was breathing hard, pupils blown wide, with his fangs still poking out, and though he had restrained himself admirably, she could still feel his need like a storm held back by a trembling dam.
The sight of his mark on her skin caused his pupils to dilate. He raised his hand, and rubbed the little blood that had remained, purposefully rubbing over the mark that had formed. In his arms, Arella shivered, letting out a low groan that caused Varziel’s pants to tighten.
Arella looked up at him, shooting him a glare, "I guess this is the reason why mating is completed in the confines of ones room. I badly want you to push me down here."
Now it was her turn though.
Ignoring the heat that passed through his gaze, Arella reached for him, her fingers curling around the front of the tunic he wore. He was still dressed in the clothing he wore to the office that morning, and his scent was deliciously strong.
She pulled down the collar with more urgency than grace. The fabric even tore slightly under her grip, exposing the smooth skin of his chest, the strong lines of muscle, and the steady rise and fall of his pulse.