by Liza James
“Everything I’ve experienced, every hated moment, every mistake, every single right move I’ve made. It’s all led me here, to you. Ready and willing to explore at that life offers with you by my side.” I reply, speaking swiftly as I push the words out of my lips between soft moans and needy movements. “You are everything to me, Na’amah.”
“Mine,” she growls, sucking in deep as I gasp and fall even deeper against her.
“Yours. Always. And you are mine.” My own teeth sink into her flesh, not breaking skin but inflicting my own pain and mark of ownership over her skin. She growls a sound that I feel in my chest, in the bond, and our mutual love is easily communicated with no questions.
This, is everything I was ever hoping for.
This story, unique and while chaotic and wild and terrifying. It’s mine. Different than anyone else’s and filled with a love I could have never imagined in the world of the club, or what I had experienced with anyone before now.
No way. I was simply being prepared, readied for the life altering journey I was about to set forth on with Na’amah. I had to build strength in order to handle what I’ve been through now.
And I wouldn’t change a single moment of it.
She’s coming.
I can feel her everywhere. She’s lingering in my blood, growing closer and closer with each passing moment. My skin doesn’t heat, no. It ice’s over, a deeply seated frost that begins in my bones and quickly spirals out through every other inch of my DNA.
My feet can’t move quickly enough, and I’m racing through the narrow, dark hallways as quickly as I can in order to keep my distance from her.
I know what she’s bringing, the power and strength she’s begging to unleash on me. Ever since we bonded, ever since she fed from me that night all those weeks ago–everything has changed.
It’s more intense and far more addictive. She’s obsessed with the taste of my blood, claiming every part of me whenever she can just as I am with her. I may not need her blood to survive, to find sustenance, but I need the taste of her flesh against my tongue just as desperately and possessively.
She belongs to me, and in the strangest way everything else has begun to make sense. Every moment I spent longing after Ruby and K, every painful interaction with Rowan, or the countless nights I spent feeling alone and lost.
They built me into the person I was meant to be when I finally found Naamie–or when she found me, truthfully.
After the night in front of the mirror, Na’amah was able to draw every ounce of that toxic poison from my blood stream. It was painful, and Elijah definitely disappeared once he realized we were safe. When we knew he was gone, we completely lost ourselves to each other.
In every single facet of the word, we surrendered.
She drank my blood and fucked me at the same time. I came against her tongue and then climbed on top of her, licking my own blood off of her lips as I slid inside her cunt and fucked her myself.
Watching her come with blood staining her mouth and slipping over her skin was the sexiest experience I’ve ever encountered. I came again, watching her as she unraveled on my touch, and after that I basked in the euphoric bliss that rides alongside the sensual sting of the Bite.
Now however, we face very different problematic issues in the Underworld.
It didn’t take long for the news of our Fated bond to work its way through the races. Especially after I met with Stella and Luna, many others had ideas of what could be happening once Na’amah appointed Eisheth the responsibility of training the new girls we will eventually add to Lilith’s harem.
Questions began circulating, and Lucifer had no intentions of keeping that a secret once he confirmed the bond himself. He stated that he knew the very second Na’amah attempted using Brielle as a distraction over dinner.
“It was a wildly poor attempt only his invalid sister could procure,” she told me, her voice laced in mild irritation over his accusation as she mockingly repeated his words. “He’s right though, I could have never hidden our bond from him. I can’t hide it from anyone.” She had laughed though, continuing to remind herself that she could easily kick his ass if it ever came to it.
Brielle has been a non-issue as of late. I think she could drastically feel the difference in Na'amah once we had bonded–though it took a few days of her locking herself away in her bedroom and only allowing Lilith entry–the two of them must have sparked something in their own bond, because they’ve been inseparable ever since.
Our biggest problem now however, is the fact that Aggie never returned once discovering our Fated bond. She didn’t come to the event weeks ago and she never came back even after her sisters finally made contact with her.
She refused and they haven’t been able to track her down since. She was running off in the city when they last spoke, after Lucifer allotted a portion of his Demons to search for her. But none of the Queens were able to actually find her, instead, they briefly spoke with her telepathically, through a unique bond they carry as sisters of the Fallen. I believe it has something to do with Eisheth’s abilities, but because Aggie is also gifted in divinity, she’s been able to place barriers around any location spells Esme has attempted.
And then there was my step-brother, Rowan.
I haven’t seen nor heard of him since that last day at my old home. I haven’t been back and I don’t believe he lived. Na’amah disappeared one night and wouldn’t tell me where she was going. It was easily the most painful experience I’ve had with her–being bonded and being so far apart in two different realms while she took care of whatever business she deemed so important.
I told her never again though. From now on, it will always be the two of us. No secrets. No lies. No questions asked.
She returned just as physically drained and in pain as I was. Her fingers clung to my skin and her teeth sunk into my throat immediately, our bodies entwining and completing each other’s souls on every imaginable plane of existence.
So, it’s now, that I’m racing through these halls fully aware of how quickly and easily she’s swallowing up the distance between us. It’s in this moment where my mind is spiraling through every detail of what the last several weeks have looked like to me–that I truly feel the impact of what I’ve become.
My skin flushes with a blend of both of hot and cold. Heat racing under my skin while her frost sparks through our bond and lingers in my flesh. My core pulses, slick and wet with every step I take while I search for an escape.
My heart thunders in my chest and little strands of my auburn hair have fallen loose of my braid. Now, they cling to my clammy skin and I scrape my fingertips along the cold stone beside me as I quickly round a corner in search of that familiar white, narrow door.
Tap, tap, tap. My bare feet hit the cold ground in light, rapid steps.
But I have to slow down for a moment, leaning forward and wrapping my fingers around my waist while catching my breath. I glance back over my shoulder, my eyes scanning my dark surroundings for any signs of those electric blue eyes and icy trail.
I move to twist my head around and continue looking for that room when I slam into the towering chest of Na’amah while she stares down at me.
I panic and stumble backwards before falling on my ass and scrambling away. Her eyes are vile bright blue irises of impending danger and pain.
Because this is what I’ve become in many ways.
The prey.
And she’s the hunter, stalking me in every corner of this kingdom. Capturing me and skinning me alive for her food.
“Wait–“ I start, but am quickly quieted when her heavy boots take slow, steady strides toward me. I continue rushing back over the ground before I finally turn and crawl to my feet. I run forward, hot breaths spilling from my already exhausted and pained lungs when I dive down the next hallway.
She’s growing restless however, my blood boiling in my veins in response to the heady lust filled hunger she’s clearly emanating through our bond. She’s
starving, in more ways than one.
The anticipation works two-fold inside of my mind–frightened with the looming pain I know she brings and intoxicated with the craving need I have to feel it.
To feel everything.
Pleasure.
Pain.
Bliss.
Humiliation.
Euphoria.
I want her to degrade me and fuck me, bite me and whisper how badly she needs me. I want to come as she forces me to beg and then I want to hear her moan as I give it back just as roughly.
My feet race forward and I’m just about to run around the next corner when I’m suddenly yanked back so harshly, I cry out as a violent pain rips against the back of my head. Thrown on my ass again, I realize Na’amah has her fist wrapped in the braid of my hair. She’s dragging me backwards over the stone ground, my feet scrambling below as my hands frantically attempt gripping her hold and pulling it away.
But I can’t break free, and Na’amah’s silence holds steady and thick between us in erotic waves of tension and power.
“Naamie,” I breathe out between hushed whimpers. “I’ll follow you, I promise.”
No response.
“Please,” I beg just before gasping when she snaps my head back by the rope of my braid. She pauses our movements and wraps her other hand around the front of my throat. Gripping me tightly, she forces my head back before she finally speaks.
“Always so fucking bad,” she grinds out, her thumb sliping along my lower lip and tugging it down. She moves lower, until she’s pinching my chin and forcing my mouth open while she hovers above me. “My slut would never call me Naamie, would she?” Her eyes bore into my own, swimming with toxicity and possession.
I try to speak, but it’s difficult, and she doesn’t release her rough hold in the slightest to ease my struggle. “No,” I manage to say.
“Are you going to be a good whore for me tonight?” She asks, her head tilting to the left as she moves even closer. I can feel the ice of breath falling over my skin, and the pull of our Fated connection lighting on fire in my blood.
“Yes,” I reply, slipping into the sexy, powerful place of submission I hold here. I fucking love this, and I’ll be her slut every day of the week if it means letting her own me like this.
“Then what do you call me?”
“Alca,” I speak the word easily and knowingly, letting her knock me down into this place of filth and degradation.
Her lips pick up in the tiniest, arrogant smirk before she snaps my head back even farther against her chest. Her white blonde hair falls over the side of her face, and God, my fingers ache to fucking run those strands between my fingertips.
Suddenly, her own lips fall open and she speaks again. Her voice is low and carrying an edge of sadistic eroticism I’ve both fallen in love and learned to fear. “Show me that filthy tongue of yours, Kitten.”
I do as she says, breathing out quickly as I push my tongue out of my mouth for her. My eyes remain trained on her open mouth, and I watch intently, nervously, as a slick strand of saliva falls from rosy lips.
I feel fucking dirty, and yet my mouth opens even wider, my tongue falling even farther as I let it hit my skin before she shoves my mouth shut and forces me to taste her. I’m still for a moment, processing what she’s done when her palm smacks the edge of my jaw and a new pain shoots across my skin.
“Swallow, you fucking whore.” Her voice is intoxicating, and her fangs have descended completely when her eyes watch my throat while I do as she says. “Fuck. I need to taste you.”
She immediately moves into action, dragging me farther down the hall a few feet before her foot launches back and she kicks open that white door I was so desperate to find earlier.
It’s dark in here, glowing only with small accents of Na’amah’s blue and sparkle of ice in her decor. Once she’s shut the door behind us, she pulls me up with a hard, cold touch and forces me back several steps until I’m standing in the middle of her room.
She twists me around at the last moment, and I’m completely caught off guard when I feel the sharp, pointed blade of a knife against the side of my throat. My hand immediately snaps up and grips her wrist tightly, attempting to pull it away from my skin even only an inch if possible.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice quiet and trembling with a fear I hadn’t expected to feel in regard to her. But I dive deep, searching our bond for anything that could give any indication of what I should expect.
“Do you trust me?” She asks, her tone taking a softer quality while still maintaining her familiar authority.
Pausing, I force a deep steady breath and focus on the feeling of that blade over my skin. My pussy is wet, and my thighs shift together only slightly while I feel the air of her coldness brush between my legs. It’s her energy, also moving around me so thickly, eliciting actual physical responses whenever I’m with her.
“Yes,” I finally reply, bravely leaning into the blade incrementally until I gasp at the subtle sting over my skin. She groans into my ear and the sound rumbles in her chest as she pulls me even harder against her. I feel it in my own body, her stark and distinct need for blood. Her other hand slides down the front of my stomach until she’s teasing the edge of my jeans and unbuttoning them.
“Tell me what you want, Kitten,” she demands, her fingers moving even lower as her lips begin gliding over the open side of my neck. She trails the tip over the blade down my slender column, moving so slowly I can almost feel the way it digs a bit deeper with every inch lower.
What do I want? I genuinely wonder, because so many desires are welling up inside of me at the same time. My hands drift over hers as she finally moves between my thighs, running over my core and slicking her fingers with my cum. I moan out at the immediate touch, my legs spreading slightly so she can run through a second time.
“I want you to fuck me,” I tell her, tilting my head back so she can continue gliding the blade over my skin. “I want to feed you.” I fall back against her, my legs going weak as she begins circling my clit. “Fuck, I want to bleed for you.”
A quiet, possessive groan escapes her own lips. In the next moment, her fingers are diving deep, pushing inside of me quickly and almost painfully as I have to quickly stretch around her. I gasp, falling forward over the edge of her bed when she hastily pulls me against her hips. She slides inside of me and then back out in only a few shallow pumps. I’m desperate for more, and nearing another muffled cry of pleads when she pulls out of me and promptly shoves my jeans to the ground around my ankles.
My ass is completely exposed for her, my pussy cold and slick in the air in front of her hips. She leans forward and yanks my top over my head so that I’m naked and bare at her mercy. I suddenly hear the sound of her unzipping her own jeans and pulling off her clothes, so I move to stand up in hopes that I can turn around and touch her myself.
But she’s far quicker and the second I shift upwards, her long fingers are roughly gripping the back of my neck and shoving my face against the sheets of her bed. “Stay the fuck down,” she bites out and I instantly do as she says while forcing myself still through consistent steady breaths.
“Please,” I whimper, my ass unintentionally swaying with need once I feel her naked, cold frame step up against me. “Please fuck me.”
She doesn’t answer, but instead I hear her fall to her knees behind me and it’s in the next moment I feel her long, lithe fingers slip up the backs of my thighs before spreading my legs even wider apart. “Do not move, do not pull away. Understand?” Her words leave absolutely no room for discussion, and I nod my head quickly as I wait for her to hopefully fill me. “Do not come, Kitten. Not until I tell you to.”
Her thumbs move over my cunt, spreading me apart as her lips slowly inch up my inner thigh and her tongue runs over my heated flesh. I push back, just slightly but she immediately shoves me forward again, her rough hold being the only reminder that I’m to stay completely still.
She return
s her attention to my pussy, her mouth moving over my core until I feel her fucking breath blowing cold of my wetness. “Oh fuck,” I stutter, the words frantic and needy as they fall from me freely. “Please, fuck me and make me yours, Alca.”
“You like being mine, don’t you?” She whispers, her tone vain and sexual at the same time.
“Yes,” I tell her, fully losing myself to the tension and energy spilling through us. I can feel everything in my blood and my soul, my mind consumed with images of what we can do together.
“You look so good for me like this, Kitten. Your pussy exposed for me, open and wet and ready for me to taste you.” Instantly, her tongue slides through my open core, the tip circling my clit before sliding back up to my opening and pushing inside me. I moan out uncontrollably, practically coming at the first touch of her tongue against my fucking flesh.
She feels so fucking good, and I’m lost to the way she fucks me immediately.
She pushes deeper against my cunt, her mouth devouring me gently at first, but growing quick and hungry and desperate almost right away. Her fingers clamp down around my thighs, yanking me wider apart as before slipping two fingers inside of me and fucking me from behind.
“Holy fuck,” I cry out, moans and whimpers escaping so rapidly that I worry others may here us in the kingdom. “Na’amah,” I breathe, already feeling an orgasm begin whipping inside of me. “Please, I’m going to come already.”
She snaps up, pulling away and dropping over my back when I suddenly feel her fingers wrap around my throat as she flips me onto my back. She holds me down, straddling my waist as she leans down and her lips collide with mine in a war of possession. She’s owning me, in every touch and sound she pulls from my wrecked and needy body. And I own her in the same ways, drawing these connections, these demands and touches as though they already belong to me.
Before I know what’s happening, she’s dropping between my legs once again. Her fangs now drag over my skin, moving lower and lower until she’s scraping them along my inner thigh and holding my leg in front of her. I lean up on my elbows, watching intensely with a frightening anticipation of what she could be about to do.
