“Then I’m going to fuck you until you cannot form a single word or a thought outside of moaning my name.”

Mia gripped his hair, pulling just enough that a sear would burn at his scalp. “Then show me, Idris, who I belong to.” 

Idris’ teeth tore into her skin, and her hot blood poured into his mouth. A moan erupted from her. Each bloody suck was timed with a deep throbbing in her core. A release was building—one she had not experienced before, even in the deepness of her Ritus. One that even their souls ached for. 

Idris’ lips popped off Mia’s throat as he turned, still inside of her. He tossed her onto the bed, springs groaning under the sudden weight. Idris stood over her, panting, his mouth bloody and his manhood slick. The sight made Mia squirm and bite down on her lip. She’d never seen such a sight—he was made for this. His eyes roamed her body, falling on the wetness pooling between her thighs. She propped herself up on her elbows and let her knees fall apart. A silent beckoning. 

Idris slowly, almost predatory, climbed on top of her. He gathered both her wrists in one hand, pinning them over her head. His emerald pools gleamed with a forbidden hunger. 

This wasn’t bloodlust. 

This was Idris claiming her body, her soul, as he already had her heart. 

This was him reminding her who she belonged to. 

This was him punishing her for every single one of her traitorous thoughts.