Gypsy Truths

Free me!

Just tasting her is replenishing me. She passed out after I finally took so much that she couldn’t hold her eyes open any longer. But she wasn’t down for long.

“You really are resilient,” I murmur against her lips. “Can you really handle an actual feeding so soon?”

Can she handle my monster? Or should I call a Van Helsing to put me down for twenty-eight years?

Claim her.

She kisses me, as though she’s eager to prove to me she can take me, and I fight the urge to grin against her lips.

I’d put Dorian down a hundred more times to have her like this.

My mind continues to slip into the fog, as I revel in the feel of having her. My Violet.

My Flame.

Once I have her firmly lying underneath me, I pin her down, enjoying how very tempting she looks when she’s vulnerable like this. It sings to the predator in me, because I want to possess every inch of her.

“You’re the only good thing to happen to me in too long to remember,” I murmur as I settle my weight on her more.

The monster breaks free and finally surfaces, and I fight to stay alert enough to try and ease Violet into this, keeping a firm grip on the reins. This could end badly if I don’t keep at least this much control.

Her breath catches as she stares up at me, and I give her a dark grin as a laugh bubbles out of me.

We’ll claim her.

We’ll claim every inch of her.

 

 

Chapter 8

 

VIOLET

 

Damien’s eyes are almost fully white, but not as white as they were that time I freed him from the Portocale curse.

Still, when he rips my clothes off, laughing the entire time, I shiver in some admitted fear.

“Don’t be scared, Violet,” he says, still laughing. “I’m only going to claim you.”

He shakes his head, the laughter cutting out, his smile falling and turning into worry.

Then his smile returns, and his eyes are a little whiter. I remain still, certain I should be as still as possible right now. I think movement would only anger his monster, and I was no match for Dorian Gray.

Damien brought Dorian to a heel too easily.

Even if he used all his power, Damien gains a lot of strength from just a little lust.

His hand closes around my throat, and he begins laughing again, eyes wild as he shoves his pants down. His shirt is still ripped from earlier, dangling at his sides, as he stares down at me with clear intent.

I’ve got his monster right now.

Whether he wants it or not, Damien’s barely an audience inside his own mind. I know that feeling.

Without warning, he thrusts inside me, and I hiss out a breath of surprise, as the hand on my throat moves to stab the bed beside my head. He laughs harder, almost uncontrollably, as he begins fucking me into a near daze.

The pheromones are so potent that I’m immediately crying out, my arms going around his neck.

A hiss breaks free from him when I move too suddenly, and a growl bubbles in his chest until I lower my arms back to my sides. He stares me down, ensuring I’m submitting, as he thrusts deep inside me again.

I bite back the somewhat disturbing cry of pleasure.

I love every inch of Damien. Even this part of him seems to turn me on in ways that should be considered morally reprehensible. But I do love his monster. And even though I should fear it, I turn my neck to the side, exposing it.

He shoves his nose along my cheek, inhaling deeply, as I lie still, feeling the slightest tremor run up my spine when he makes that weird, muffled rattlesnake sound.

My breaths grow shallow and shaky when I feel his lips curve in a devilish grin, and my nerves scream from pleasure overload in the next instant, as it washes over me like bottled-up tidal waves.

I’m not sure when my lips became fused to his or why I thought it was safe to grab a handful of his hair, but he’s kissing me in a way that’s so devouring that I’m already lightheaded.

My veins burn, even as a gush of icy air licks up my heated skin, and my already overstimulated body trembles against even that small amount of extra, because I can’t handle one more sensation.

“Oh, momma’s gonna need some popcorn for this,” Anna, the voyeuristic nuisance, says from somewhere in the room.

Damien doesn’t acknowledge her existence, because I’m clearly all he’s concerned about in this moment.

Maybe this is why I love their monsters so much. I think their monsters loved me before they did.

His head reels back, even as his agile hips move like he’s on a mission to thoroughly wreck me in all the best ways a sexual deviant can wreck a woman, and the whites in his eyes die down.

There’s a clouded gaze there as he shoves his hand in my hair, biting down on his bottom lip like he’s both tortured and on a high at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his lips coming down on mine. “I can’t—”

I kiss him, shutting him up, since there’s nothing I want more than to go back to the almost orgasm I just lost. My body screams for it, craves it, and I feel as though I’m going to finally die if I don’t—

It’s painful bliss with a side of immediate exhaustion, because I swear my soul is detached. There’s no way I’m still in my body.

There’s such an explosion of euphoria that is wrung out of every inch of me, that I must be blown out of my body altogether. That’s the only reason I can’t feel him still moving.

I’m almost numb from the overwhelming sensations that have short-circuited—

As if I’m slammed back into my body, my senses all enlist again. It’s too much too soon, hurting way too good. Damien’s eyes are white again, and his monster is smiling too wide, as though he’s truly going to devour me to the fullest.

I cry out, unable to help myself, surely tearing up his shoulders when I almost fight for a breath of air that isn’t stolen by all the powerful pulses of pleasure.

I’m both drugged and dizzy, high off it and damn near loopy, as I drag him down and kiss him again, uncaring what he does to me.

So long as he never stops.

Never.

My head tips back, my lips moving to no sound, even as my body screams in sweet agony from the next hit.

“If I could die, again, this would be the monster I chose to kill me,” Anna states from somewhere overhead.

But she’s not even enough to distract me from the heady rush of all my favorite things happening all at once. From the mirrored images in my mind, to the way he’s manipulating my entire body, all while taking without mercy…

It’s…too…much.

Almost too much.

It’s so much more than the time we broke his curse. How can it be this much more when I can tell he’s more present than he was then?

There’s a burning on my wrist that offers just enough of a bite of pain to bring my head somewhat out of the fog. I suck in air, trying to catch my breath, as my eyes dart over to see a mark appearing.

It’s a red mark that slowly begins stretching over my wrist, almost as though it’s being burned in place. It’s wavy, not creating a pattern of any sort, as it haphazardly grows and expands across my wrist.

Realization dawns on me that this is Damien’s monster claiming me.

My eyes widen, even as the fog damn near sucks me back under.