Chapter Ninety-Two

Havermouth, Present Time

Inside the master bedroom, Talen framed her face with his hands. “Close your eyes, little demon,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her forehead.

She smiled and obeyed. “But I like to see you, daddy, and there’s just so much to see…”

His lips curved against her skin. “Just for a moment.” He lifted her chin, kissing the point of her cheek, and then brushing his lips over hers. With her eyes closed, the sensation was intensified, and without his thoughts intruding on her own, she found herself focusing utterly on what he would do next with a devotion of attention that she did not normally get to experience during sex.

She could feel the warmth of his skin and breath, the tickle of his beard as he took his time, hovering his mouth just off hers before joining their mouths again. His hands stroked through her hair, trailing down to its ends, whilst resting against her shoulder blades before moving down to her waist. The slight pressure encouraged her to lean against him, to trust him in the darkness of her shut eyes to support her, to wrap her arms around his neck and cling to him.

Her lips parted for him on instinct, her mouth softening as her face slackened with pleasure. The heat built within the pit of her stomach, a warm glow that flowed through her, holding her heart with gentle hands of undemanding rapture.

His tongue touched hers; both an invitation and an exploration of her flavour.

She had never had a kiss quite like it. Time seemed to slow, and the world narrowed to where their mouths met. The ache of her cunt and the throb of his cock against her was secondary to the touch of their lips, as if sex occurred there, and not lower.

Her fingers sifted his hair. She touched him - not to please him, but because touching her lover brought it to her. Because she wanted to know his textures by feel, even when blinded in the dark, so in the darkest of nights, she would be able to picture him in her mind by exploring his surface.

As if anticipating her needs, he eased the kiss and leaned back to remove the knit top and jeans. She stood, eyes closed, both because he had not told her to open them, but also because she was content there in the darkness, listening to the movement of man and fabric, until he returned to her, his skin against hers.

“Oh, daddy,” she whispered, as his palms slid down her back in a tender caress.

His lips stole the ability to speak from her. He lifted her so her legs wrapped around his waist, and stepped back to the bed. He lowered them both onto the mattress, his body pressed tightly to hers, his cock against her clit, intimately and sensually, in a way that was more than a sexual connection.

“Look at me,” he whispered, and she opened her eyes meeting his. She touched his cheek gently and smiled. Her feelings so intense she felt she could cry from pure joy. He smiled back, his eyes lighting as he adjusted against her and joined them in a slow, smooth stroke.

She moaned, her body blissing under his, her eyes losing focus as she breathed out in a sigh of pleasure.

“Yes,” he whispered against her lips. “It feels right, doesn’t it, little one? It feels right when we are together, joined as one.”

His body rolled into her, a flow of powerful muscle and control, his strokes close and intensely intimate, slow, and sensual. His lips remained against hers so their moans were shared, their breath was shared, just as their passion was shared.

He mastered her body so magnificently that he balanced her on the very cusp of orgasm, the pleasure at its utmost point, wringing out every last strain of ecstasy, before letting them fall into climax together as he took her blood.

Their joined flesh throbbed as he lay over her, and she was not sure if it was her cunt milking him, his cock squeezing out the last strains of seed, or, perhaps, them both together. The tiny insight into his mind as he drank from her was rapturous - the taste of her on his tongue, the feel of her tight around his cock, her small body against his, the scent of her skin and hair, the aching emotion of finding…

He lifted his mouth from her skin, the connection breaking, but leaving her overflowing with euphoria.

“Morgana,” he murmured. “I must speak to you about your father.”

She pressed her lips to his cheek. “I know that he was murdered by the vampires of Zeus Forest Works,” she told him. “He left a letter saying that he thought he would be, though he didn't know what they were. I have some things for you, on the kitchen table, that he put together....”

She felt his frown a moment before he lifted onto his elbow to look down at her. “I know that his death was not an accident,” he said softly. “But I am not sure who or why he was killed.”

She stared at him open mouthed. “The vampires killed him,” she prompted. “Because he was digging into unusual activity with Zeus Forest Works… He thought Zeus was run by some criminal organization, and the vampires discovered him poking around.”

His eyebrows raised. “It was not us,” he shook his head slowly. “And I know nothing about unusual activity. Zeus Forest Works is just one of the many businesses that we own. Whilst the upper levels of management are vampire, and we have a local house and representative to oversee the operation, that is the extent of our involvement.”

“Hmph,” she caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she puzzled it out. “The werewolves, maybe?” She said, more to herself than him. “Because he was also poking into why the police force wasn’t charging werewolf boys for raping human girls…”

“Fucking werewolves,” his expression tightened, and he closed his eyes for a moment as he shook his head in disgust. “Werewolves have high sex drives, but if their females can control themselves, so can their males. Excusing sexually predatory behaviour due to gender or species is… outdated.”

“Yeah, I know,” she agreed emphatically. “They’re arseholes because the pack lets them be and teaches them that they’re entitled to be. Did you know that they think so little of human girls that werewolf chemists and doctors prepare a list of human girls on contraceptives, so that the randy werewolf boys can pick safely who they assault?”

“I need more wine to stomach that,” he said grimly.

“Wine sounds good. I’ll show you what my father had. It makes no sense to me whatsoever, but it might mean something to you.” She paused and smiled. “It’s nice. It’s nice to actually talk to someone about this sort of thing, freely. Even with the witches, I had to be careful about what I said, and the Triquetra have never really been open with me… Though they sort of tried earlier today. I’m sorry,” she added hastily. “I’ve said too much. It’s a bit like the reservoir damn, if pressure isn’t released on time, it just sort of floods out sometimes.”

His smile lifted one side of his cheek and his eyes danced with laughter. “I think that’s the most I have ever heard you say in one go,” he observed, and leaned forward to kiss her. “Keep going. Let’s go get the wine and you can tell me all about the adventures of Morgana Ivy.”

He pulled on his jeans and slipped his top over her, folding back the sleeves to free her hands. She watched his face as he performed that simple, considerate task, and felt the pieces slide into place. “Oh,” she whispered.

“Oh?” He lifted his eyes from her wrist.

“Oh,” she thought she was going to cry. “I’m not your blood slave.”

His smile was puzzled. “No. Anyone can be a blood slave, Morgana. I would not pursue one across the country, no matter how delicious they tasted. You are my…” He trailed off, and stroked his fingers down her cheek. “Well, you are my mate. If you consent, of course.”