Of Blood & Consequence (Book 2 of The Blood Bond Series)

21. Exit Only

Again, Michael let the intangible things soothe him. The scents, the sweet sighs, the pattern of Delia's breath against his neck.

They only made it as far as the hallway before he needed more of the things he could touch, could feel with his hands. Soft skin, smooth curves, the fullness of her ass as he gripped her with his hands and pushed her up against the wall. The feeling of wrong was pushed away when the girth of his hips widened her and his hand slipped into her panties to slick between her folds.

He was met with the wet warmth that had his throat vibrating with a groan, his mouth descending to take her lips, plunder them, taste every inch inside, going deeper than ever before as he swallowed her sounds.

Raspy pants, jagged breathing, the occasional gasp when he hit just the right spot on her s*x, then later as he slipped two fingers inside her, opening her up, the keening cry she gave when her head lifted and her lips parted, forcing him away until he licked at her throat, sucking in fragrant oxygen and letting all the good that came with it disperse throughout his body.

There was nothing so healing as a mate's touch, even if it was only for a short while. She was his respite, which was just what he needed when drinking in every part of her that he could.

Dropping to his knees, he pulled down her bottoms before coaxing her to step out. Friday's were casual, so she'd been able to wear jeans and a nice top instead of her normal, formal daywear. The fabric slipped down as easily as a cool rush of water, and she stepped from the puddle at her feet before being thrust into the air again. This time, Michael's hands were drawing her thighs over the wide expanse of his shoulders, pressing his face between them, right at her center when he gobbled up the muskier aroma of her s*x.

With a press of his tongue, she shuddered, her hands sweeping through the front of his hair and traveling down to the back of his neck. Then running back to the front. Back. Front again.

It shot an electric tingle down his back. The gentle touches alternating with the scrapes of her nails, and he licked around her clit in a wide circle, slowly narrowing it until he was giving little flicks with his tongue.

She swelled, the quivering bud of flesh expanding as her juices soaked his chin.

More. Need more.

It was his only response when her thighs tightened with the quickening of her s*x as everything in her body tightened...

Then exploded.

He sucked at her as she flew apart for him. Her moans crescendoed after that first burst of air filled with expletives and cries. He'd built her up too quick, needing her pleasure like he needed blood to live.

As he brought her down, gentling the suction of his mouth until she was replete and her whole body was loose, he watched her eyes, hooded with a hot, weighted gaze, a gentle tilt of her lips. One of her hands rifled through his hair, and his lips drew away from her skin.

Backing up from the wall, he let her down gently, flipped her around so her hands splayed against the eggshell white lacquer of the walls, newly painted just before they'd moved in.

"Legs apart, fiore." He prodded her with one large foot to widen her stance, tugging his zipper down and the top button open before taking out his c**k.

He stroked himself as her legs broadened for him, and she braced her forearms against the wall as her ran the crown of his c**k from the cleft of her ass, down between her cheeks, finally centering on the hot slipperiness between her legs. Her ass bounced back, trying to forge a deeper connection.

Delia ached. Michael's tongue game always drew attention to the empty throb of her s*x she always felt after a session of satisfying oral. Instead of gratifying her completely, it only encouraged the need for more of him filling her.

Entirely.

He teased at her entrance, sliding in an inch and pulling back, holding her steady when her displeasure was voiced with a needy gasp or low groan that ticked his lips up in a gently mocking smile.

"You need me, cara?" he asked, the soft press of his lips against her ear and the smooth inhale-exhale tickling the brown locks around her neck and shoulders with their rapidity. "You need me inside you? Filling and f*****g you?"

She gasped. "Yes. Yes please, Michael."

He canted his head even further, licking down the side of her neck with the tip of his tongue and eliciting a shiver as she arched her back for more of him. Michael gave it to her this time—slowly, almost methodical as he wound an arm around her front, pressing the fingers hard into the skin on the opposite side of her waist.

He panted when she squeezed around him as he slid in, feeding her inch after inch until she was tightly clasped around him, sucking him in with all the strength her muscles held.

"God...please, Michael. I ache."

His lips thrummed with a groan against the soft curve of her shoulder, and he reared back, compliant to her need.

Again, slowly.

Dammit. If he didn't have a soul, how could he feel so much? Without a soul inside him, there was no regret, no love—nothing in between either. He would feel empty because he was empty, so that couldn't be the case.

Giovanni was a fool. The man knew nothing of fulfillment or love. Michael almost smiled as he realized just how much his nemesis was missing from life, almost felt sorry for him as his c**k continued to stretch the tightness of Delia's inner walls.

He let himself get washed away again, even the hint of trepidation for his future becoming a blur that spun out of his head as he tried focusing all his energy where they were joined so tightly.

He rocked forward again, winding her up, slowly feeling the slick glide of their s*x converging in sparkling friction. He nipped at her skin, just the trace of his teeth gently marking her skin before sucking hard on the flesh he'd bitten.

Michael's hand moved to her front, pressing down on the cool flesh below her belly button as he forced more of himself inside her as she lurched forward, Delia bearing down on him, knees slightly bent for more traction. Her arms shook with the exertion and she muffled a sound against the back of her hand before Michael's free hand was pulling it back to take her lips again. 

Hard pumps of his hips, skin slapping together, the lovely sound of her wet s*x with each desperate surge of his pelvis—they all converged and mingled, making his head almost pound until every unwelcome thought from the day was concealed behind the pleasure of now, the heat of the moment...

Tight little contractions grounded him as he gave her his all, slammed into her harder as he felt her unravel beneath him, her sounds no longer suppressed as she cried out in bliss.

"Michael! Oh, fuck...right there! Yes!"

There were more words, but she climaxed around him brilliantly, and they tumbled over each other in such a blur that they were indecipherable and yet still heavenly to witness.

The need to spill inside her was almost too powerful to fight, but he slowed his thrusts, pulling back and slowing his movements with a willpower that amazed even him. It's not like he couldn't have been ready again in a heartbeat if he'd filled her. But he wanted to make it last, let it bring him under completely.

Drown him in ecstasy for a little while. Just for the night.

As the pulse around him faded and the tightening in his balls relaxed, he pulled her from the wall, flipped her around again, and crushed his mouth to hers.

Their tongues tangled, and for a moment every nerve ending jangled inside, needing more, craving it, but so wrapped up in the moment that they could only stand there, his hard c**k pressed against her stomach, slippery against her skin. Her arms wound around his neck, pulling him in deeper until he felt he could get lost inside the sweet taste of her mouth.

"Delia," he uttered when they broke for breath, their lips brushing as they continued to stare into each other's eyes.

Locked in, she licked her lips, catching a taste of his skin and making the part of his wider. "Bedroom now? Please. My legs are unsteady as it is under me."

One side of his mouth ticked up, and he bent low before sweeping her legs up from under her with a yip. As he carried her into the bedroom, he chuckled low. "Next place we rent—or buy—we're going to get a jacuzzi tub. I've always wanted to see you ride me in one every since I saw the inside of Eli's en suite."

She wriggled her hips, imagining that, too. "I can still ride you," she told him. "Right now. Won't be as wet, but I'm sure it'll still be wet enough."

He made a rough sound low in his throat as he choked on a growl that lingered even after he cleared his airway again. "Then hop on, amore. Take me for the ride of a lifetime."

She was dropped onto the bed, Michael crawling in eagerly behind her. His clothing was partially stripped away when he was walking them into the bedroom, and he tore off his work shirt as she sat up and pulled her top over her head.

He reached around her, unclasping her lacy bra, pulled it off from the front with his teeth. It dropped into his hands, which he then used to fling away the material and fill with her heavy mounds.

Michael allowed himself a moment to play with her n*****s, drawing them into his mouth to suck on, and then pulling them both on their sides as his hands grazed down her form. Slowly he cupped her, ran his fingers over the dip of her waist and over her ass, gripping tightly before he rolled onto his back, bringing her with him.

She straddled him, her slick heat slipping over the length of his d**k as he weighed her t**s in his hand and pinched at the tight peaks.

"Ass." It was near to a growl as he could get with the meager oxygen he had to spare. He sucked in a deeper breath to speak. "I want your ass, fiore. Will you give it to me?"

She contemplated slowly, her gaze darkening as her eyelids lowered. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

"Yes."

He reached over, pulling out a drawer from the night table and drizzling cool liquid onto his hand. Delia sat back and watched as he worked his slick fingers over his c**k, mesmerized when some of it dribbled down over his balls.

"Up here."

She moved up his body, and one large, sure hand spread her cheeks wide before she felt the slick slide of his fingers probing the tight ring of muscle. He rubbed, relaxing her until he pushed a finger through as her flesh gave way for him.

Heat. That initial burn from being breached. Like a lit match, it sparked and moved throughout her pelvis until it melted into need that was deeper.

"Inside me. Now."

He chuckled and tossed the bottle of lube away. "So impatient, sposina. Good things come to those who wait. Isn't that what Americans always say?"

The exasperated breath she blew out at his comment was cut off when the hard press of his blunt crown teased at her back entrance. She sank down slowly, the stretch still stinging her, but Delia was just desperate enough that she continued to slide down until she was seated completely over him.

It was all he could do not to pull her down completely on him and f**k her cross-eyed. He blinked and settled his thoughts, nodding to her before speaking. "At your pace, sposina. Ride me."

She did, drawing herself up and down slowly, that delicious ache in his gut only making him dizzy—or as dizzy as one could be when oxygen was not an absolute necessity. Still, he drew in breaths that were saturated with plumeria, the smell of their s*x, with just a hint of the fragrance-free lube he'd use to ready her for him.

Her hands flattened against his hard chest as she gained a rhythm. Delia ground her hips, and it was all he could do not to grip her hips and start slamming her down onto his c**k with a need that scalded like a fever. The demand was there. To f**k. To fill her ass. To sheathe every inch of him inside her and stay bound together forever.

Instead, he reached out with his hand, spread her p***y lips and stroked over her clit with a thumb, let it swell against his hand until he was lifting his hips to her, guiding her into another blinding climax.

Everything clenched around him. The muscles tightened and quivered around him as he groaned.

Fuck it.

He came in wrenching pulses as the last of her release receded, causing her to collapse onto his chest as he clenched her ass cheeks and continued to jerk his hips until the last of his seed could be milked from him.

He shifted them next to each other as his wilting c**k slipped from her. There was a hand towel on the night table, and he was just able to reach over when he heard the sound of knocking.

At first, he didn't know if they'd been too loud and it was coming through a wall. His neighbors weren't usually too picky about daytime sounds, but maybe...

No. The knocking was coming from the living room, because there it was again. The door perhaps?

He quickly wiped Delia down, then himself. He found his shirt on the ground next to the bed and then passed into the hallways to grab his boxers and pants. He could hear Delia muttering something about at least being able to finish, but his lips drew down in a frown as he zipped himself up.

Delia walked past him quickly, her steps padding with what could only be described as a determined step.

As he was turning the corner from the hallway into the living room, he stopped. Delia had flung open the door and was standing there, her hands on her hips and staring up into the eyes of his worst nightmare. 

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