She said nothing. She simply looked up into my face, examining me intently, so keen I wanted to turn my face so she couldn’t see it in all its flawed vileness.

I almost started when she reached up, cupping my face in her hands.

Cirri stared into my eyes for a long minute. Then she rose up on her tiptoes, pulling me down to her as she closed her eyes, and kissed me.

Kissed my lips, even with my terrible fangs. Even with my hideous visage before her. Her lips were soft and smooth, moving over mine even as I didn’t dare to move for fear of cutting her. She kissed like she meant it, like she enjoyed it—like I was a man, not a beast.

My first true kiss with my wife.

My skin prickled, heat rising in my veins and thirst in my throat, lust and hunger at war. I clasped my hands around her waist, holding her as close as I dared until she opened her eyes again, lowering herself to the floor.

You deserve so much more than you believe you do, she said, hands moving slowly. You are so much more than I deserve.

“No,” I said hoarsely, my lips still tingling where she’d touched me, and Cirri cut me off with an abrupt gesture.

Don’t even say it, she told me. Not now.

She pulled at the ties of her bodice, unlacing them, shedding cloth until she wore only the sheer white undergown of the dress. She took my hand and led me to the bed, pushing me against it.

I sat obediently, curious and trying to kill my hope, but Cirri brought it back into full flower as she climbed into my lap, straddling me as she had on our wedding night.

Here, she said, taking my hand and putting it over her throat and chest. My palm burned where her pulse fluttered beneath it, where the softness of her breasts pressed against me. I’m ready now.

“Cirri…” There were still so many things I wished to do, but all of my plans hinged on one thing: to keep her fear at bay. I would not feed from her throat, or let her see my naked body. For now, just drinking from her wrist was enough of a gift.

I curled my other arm around her waist, holding her close, unable to stop my cock from stiffening against her. Ancestors, to feel her around me as I fed… a shiver ran through me.

“The things I want to do to you.” The growl in my voice had returned. “I don’t want to lose control.”

She scowled at me, shook her loosened hair back in a curled mass, and touched my face. You won’t lose control. I have faith in you. But… maybe use less venom this time. The scowl broke into a momentary sheepish smile.

I couldn’t bring myself to smile back or make a joke. Not while her full weight was pressed against my aching cock, only two thin layers of fabric between us, or the pulse under my palm thrummed like a bird’s wings, or the rich musky-rose scent of her filled my nose.

Every sense narrowed in on her, hunting, craving.

Her smile faded as she took in the look on my face, something I couldn’t control. Every shred of my willpower was focused on keeping my hands gentle, on not ripping that damn gown from her like cobwebs and exposing her entirely.

She swallowed hard, and my eyes went to the motion, focusing on the light tracery of blue veins beneath her skin.

Cirri carefully cupped my face again, and gave me another of the kisses I craved, exploring my lips with her own, the tip of her tongue flicking against me.

Then she tilted her head back, exposing the smooth column of her throat, bringing me to her.

My teeth ached, the venom already welling. I opened my mouth, poising my fangs over the pounding vein in her neck.

I felt her shiver, felt the goosebumps rise over her skin as my breath touched her, and her nipples tightened, pressed against my chest.

Ancestors, gods, whoever’s out there… help me. Let me not break her.

My fangs pierced her, sweet, hot blood flooding my mouth. Cirri gasped, arching against me, and the lithe motion of her body rocking against me, combined with the heady taste of her blood, almost sent me over the edge into the predator’s mind: taking what I wanted. Demanding what I needed.

I pulled her tighter, as close as I could get without being inside her, and fed.

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Chapter 23 Cirri

He was the line between pleasure and pain—first there was the pleasure, the sense of being cradled like spun glass by a creature who could so easily destroy me. The scent of him, so familiar and yet still so exciting and new. The soft, warm velvet of his skin over the hard, brutal lines of a fiend’s warped body.

And then there was the pain, accompanied by a frisson of fear.

The sharp, hungry stab of needles in my throat. The first piercing of the skin, my nerves alight with fire and ice, the prick of his claws against my hips, pulling me closer. The shiver of vulnerability creeping down my spine.

And then the pain melted back into pleasure, a seamless transition between the two.

Because I trusted him, completely and without reservation, and once I’d accepted that Bane would never deliberately harm me, it was easier to submit to his hunger and power. What once filled me with horror now seemed a simple thing: to feed him, to become his, to let my blood fill his veins.

Crushed against him, letting the syrupy haze of the venom spread through my body and fill me with warm, lethargic delight, I wondered why I had been so afraid.

Because this was Bane, and he would never hurt me. He loved me enough to learn my language.

The warm trickle of blood crept down my neck, spilling into the hollow above my clavicle; Bane’s forked tongue lapped it away, his lips caressing my flesh in a way that raised goosebumps all over my body.

Even in the haze, I felt that I sat astride a titan, entirely at his whim and mercy, and it became too much effort to hold my head up. I let it fall back, the sensation of floating overtaking my loose limbs as heat flooded the rest of me.

Things seemed more clear as I floated, the rush of blood becoming a pale background sensation. I wanted him, and I wanted to love him, and I wanted him to love me. It was so simple. Not too much to ask for. Why waste my life prevaricating on the ifs and buts when it was all so obvious?

I laced my hands around his neck, the ridges of his spine hard under my fingers, and pushed myself more fully into him as he took another deep draught from my throat, pain and pleasure intertwining so deeply I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. The pinch of his teeth, the dizzying feeling of my blood being drawn out—it drew a gasp from me, and if I’d had a voice, I would have whispered yes, more, take more and take me. 

If he was mine, and I wanted him, then I wanted all of him. He couldn’t hide his own intense lust; his cock throbbed against my core, nothing but our clothes in the way.

Why not get rid of them? So simple. So obvious.

My arms felt like they were moving through molasses, distanced from my body as I raised my hands to Bane’s shirt. From somewhere far away I realized I was just fumbling at the buttons—my fingers didn’t quite want to work the way I wanted them to.

Bane growled low in his throat, the rumble of it reverberating in my chest. He ran his tongue over my pierced neck in a slow, smooth stroke, sending shivers down my spine that had nothing to do with apprehension.

“What are you doing, sweet one?” he asked softly.

I temporarily abandoned the buttons as I told him, I’m taking your clothes off. I want all of you. 

Were my words right? I had no real idea; my mind had focused entirely on the simmer of pain in my throat, the floating sweetness in my veins, and the fact that I wanted these damn clothes to vanish so I didn’t have to think about buttons or how they worked.