Chapter 430: Under the Lotus 3
Zagan didn’t have a god or goddess he believed in, otherwise he would be crying out to them as Penelope blurred the distinction between touch and sound and set his whole body on fire in the process.
"Ah!" He moaned, gripping her hair and throwing his head back all at once. He wanted to stop her at the same time that he wanted to buck wildly into her mouth.
She continued her onslaught, burying him as far as he would go and gripping his ass to try forcing him even further before she was gagging and releasing him. He thought she was finally done with this madness and he panted in relief, but then she was doing it again—faster this time with one hand trailing her mouth in its delicious, torturous slide and the other cupping his testicles and rolling them around in her hand.
"Fuck," he panted, lost to the bright sensation of this experience that was burning him alive behind his eyes. Nothing—no feeling, no blood, no satiation of any kind to his urges—nothing in his centuries of existing came anywhere close to the sensation of Penelope’s mouth surrounding him and the electricity that shot through nerves he didn’t even know he had.
Finally, when he thought his mind might explode from the tension that was building behind his eyes, Penelope reemerged and snaked toward him, her skin gliding along his as one hand refused to let go of his cock.
"Come here," he urged, trailing a hand down her arm and then tugging her toward him, claiming her mouth more fiercely than before. He gripped her jaw in his hand, pressing his tongue in further, fangs grazing her lips as he did.
She moaned into him, allowing him to devour the sound as she felt the sharp points of his fangs prick her. Zagan noticed immediately how her sweet taste turned even richer and fuller, blooming like a rose in his mouth that he wanted to drink dry, and his eyes shot open in alarm. He had unintentionally pricked her. He was tasting her blood—something he had not wanted to happen.
"You are bleeding," he whispered hoarsely, opening his hands to release her from his hold, his fingers splaying like the petals blooming on a flower.
"I am fine," she whispered in return, nudging him with her nose and claiming his erect shaft in her hand once again. "I promise, I am fine. Drink from me," she urged as she stroked him and presented him with the elegant stretch of her neck that pulsated rapidly before his predatory eyes.
"You do not understand what you are asking," he groaned, grimacing with the restraint it took to not give in and take her. She would taste so good—that and the feeling of her against him, giving him pleasures he had not dreamed of in places he had never felt—that might just be heaven. Perhaps he would die today and find out.
"I do understand," she whispered desperately, as if she wanted him to taste her as bad he wanted to do it.
"If you did, you would not ask it," he replied gruffly, biting into his lip in hopes that even the smallest amount of rabbit blood would be left in his body to help satiate him in this desperate moment, but he was dry. He had used it all up, and he was dry. And the best thing he had ever tasted was offering herself above him.
"What makes you think that I am asking?" she growled, glaring into his stubborn gray eyes as she bit harder into her lips that were already bleeding.
Luscious red drops came forth and smeared brilliantly against her brown. There was a long moment as she hovered there, staring at his lips while threatening him with her own.
Zagan groaned, anticipating the drops that were threatening to come, but Penelope lowered her lips to his before they could fall. And then he was tasting her again—the richness of her life that bloomed in his mouth. He felt even that small amount light up the cells and tissues in his body, bringing back the borrowed vitality he had been starving them of.
His arms wound around her, pulling her closer against him where her nipples pressed against his chest. He was only wanting to kiss her more deeply, but now her nipples teased against him for attention, and he swiftly flipped her over onto her back, taking one breast into his mouth and sucking hard on the supple flesh, circling her nipple with his tongue as he played with the other between his fingers.
"Zagan," she gasped, feeling his fangs cut into the flesh of her breast and then he was sucking, drinking from her in the most primal way. She gripped his white hair in her hands, feeling the passion with which he was sucking on her breast before his locks of hair became smooth and silky against her fingers, the strands turning to a glistening black.
"Yes," she gasped again, gripping his hair and pressing him harder against her so he would take all that he needed, all the while squirming under him with the moist fire this ignited in her groin that was seeking to be entered, seeking to be made whole.
He felt that desperate want of Penelope’s pulling him forth like a gravity that existed only between the two of them. The rest of the universe may have ceased to be—all that truly mattered now was the swirling cosmos of sensation encircling them. Zagan was compelled by its force to give in to this beautiful, delicious mate of his who was desperately wanting him. He was meant to give in to her. It was his destiny.
Penelope felt him rise up to meet her eyes, his own now a brilliant shining black.
"Tell me what to do," he said softly, bracing himself on an arm next to her as he trailed a hand down the length of her warm, trembling body. She shivered with the sensation this caused, and he lowered his mouth to lick her, healing the puncture marks he had caused on her breast before giving it a light kiss.
Penelope hummed, biting her lip as his hands played softly against her skin—one on her cheek and the other tracing patterns along her stomach. "Trust yourself," she whispered.
