Chapter 157: Joined pt2
Chapter 157
Lucian’s head was the one to slam back against the pillows this time, a pained roar of pleasure escaping his throat. It felt different from this angle—the weight shifted, the pressure more intense, the friction dragging over his sensitive skin with an agonizingly deep stretch that reached his very soul.
Isabella let out a long, broken moan, her back arching as she took him to the hilt. She didn’t wait for him to find a rhythm; she started her own.
She began to ride him, her hips rolling in a hungry, jagged circle that ground her core against his pelvic bone. "God, Isabella!" Lucian’s hands moved from her waist back to her breasts, his fingers tangling in the hair that trailed over her skin.
Every time she lifted herself, the cool air hit the wet skin where they were joined, only for her to sink back down and replace it with a searing, liquid heat.
She watched him, savoring the way his jaw locked and his eyes squeezed shut every time her internal muscles milked him.
Lucian reached up, his large palms cupping the back of her head, pulling her down so he could crash his mouth onto hers.
The kiss was a collision of salt and fire, their tongues scything through each other as the pleasure reached a fever pitch.
Lucian’s hands slid down to her bottom, his fingers digging into the soft curves as he began to help her, his hips lifting to meet her downward strokes in a devastating, rhythmic symmetry.
Isabella was losing herself. The thrill of being on top was being overtaken by a bone-deep sensation that felt like a building thunderstorm.
Her movements, once deliberate and demanding, began to fray at the edges. She wasn’t riding him with the same precision anymore; her hips were jerking, her thighs trembling so violently that she could barely hold her own weight.
A second orgasm, far more powerful than the first, was clawing its way up from the base of her spine, making her muscles clench around Lucian’s massive length.
Her head thrashed as she let out short, airy whimpers, her control snapping. Lucian’s eyes snapped open, the crimson glow within them deepening into a dark, predatory scarlet.
He watched the way her throat worked, the elegant line of her neck exposed as she arched back, the skin there looking impossibly pale and fragile under the shifting afternoon lights.
The scent of her arousal was already intoxicating, but the scent of the life rushing beneath that thin skin was the final catalyst.
His fangs pricked at the insides of his lips, the ache for her life-force becoming as sharp and undeniable as the ache in his loins.
The ancient beast within him recognized the moment—the peak of her pleasure was when her blood would be at its sweetest.
Lucian’s hands moved from her hips to her shoulders. In one seamless, powerful motion, he surged upward, flipping her back onto the silk sheets with a speed that left her gasping and disoriented.
The world spun for Isabella, and before she could even blink, she was pinned once more, her legs forced wide by the heavy, solid weight of his thighs.
He didn’t give her a second to breathe. He drove back into her, a deep, bruising thrust that hit her second climax head-on.
"Lucian!" she screamed, her hands flying to his head, her fingers tangling in his long dark hair as her body began to shatter into a million pieces of light.
Lucian was no longer holding back a single ounce of his strength. He hammered into her, his chest heaving as he stared down at the pulse points in her neck with a starving intensity.
He was close. They both were. The tension in the room was a living thing, pulled taut until it was humming with the static of their shared energy.
"Look at me, Isabella," he rasped, his voice a dark command that forced her glazed eyes to meet his. Her breath was coming in shallow, sobbing hitches, her soul bared to him.
"Lucian," she whispered, her hands pulling his head down toward her throat, her instinct matching his own. "Feed."
That was the only permission his monster needed. As the final, soul-shattering wave of her orgasm hit her, Isabella’s body convulsed, her internal muscles clamping down on him with a strength that drew a pained roar from his lungs.
At the exact moment he felt the first hot, surging pulse of his own release, Lucian buried his face in the crook of her neck.
His fangs pierced her skin with a sharp, stinging heat. Isabella’s back arched violently off the mattress, a long, high-pitched cry of pure, unadulterated ecstasy tearing from her throat.
It wasn’t just the sex; it was the divine sharing of life. She felt the heavy, rhythmic draw of him taking from her, the sensation acting like a lightning bolt that intensified every nerve ending in her body.
Lucian let out a muffled, vibrato groan against her skin, his body rigid as he flooded her with his seed while simultaneously drinking in the sweetness of her life.
The twin sensations—the giving and the taking—brought them both to another shattering, blinding orgasm that seemed to last an eternity. The room faded. The amber light, the silk sheets, the sounds of the night—it all vanished, leaving only the two of them anchored together in a storm of blood and salt.
Slowly, the violent tremors began to subside. Lucian’s thrusts slowed to a halt, his heavy length still buried deep within her as he let out a long, shuddering breath against her neck.
He moved as if to pull away, to check the wound he had inflicted, but Isabella shook her head, her fingers tightening in his hair to keep him there.
She successfully made him stay, and he complied, his tongue tracing over the two small puncture marks to soothe the sting, the copper taste of her still lingering on his lips like a sacred seal.
Isabella lay limp beneath him, her skin flushed, her vision slowly returning to the vaulted ceiling above.
She felt hollowed out, as if he had taken every secret she ever held and replaced them with the heavy, warm reality of himself.
She was spent, exhausted, and more complete than she had ever been in her life.