Chapter 45: Beloved For The Vampire

Chapter 45: Beloved For The Vampire Blaze’s POV Fuck, she was perfect. Her skin—warm, impossibly soft—was like an addiction I couldn’t shake. Every inch of her seemed designed to pull me deeper into this hunger, this craving I’d never felt before. I’d fucked a few humans in my time—strays, leftovers from the hunts—but none had ever felt like her. None had left me this restless, this desperate. She was a treasure you never truly owned, only kept wanting more of. And I wasn’t about to let her go. Her skin was like velvet beneath my fingers—soft, warm, maddening. Her curves fit against me as if sculpted for my hands, her breasts perfect, rising and falling with each trembling breath. How the hell had I ever believed she was a man? I must’ve been blind. Or perhaps I’d simply refused to see. But now, stripped of that illusion, she was fire and temptation incarnate. The sounds she made—soft, breathy, filled with something wild—rushed through me like blood through dead veins. Music. Sinful, addictive music. I leaned in, unable to resist, and captured her lips with mine—cold meeting warmth, hunger meeting surrender. Fuck. She tasted like everything I’d ever been denied... and everything I was about to take. My undead body—my demons—were ready to surrender to her. She was a drug, more potent than any blood I’d ever tasted. Addictive. Dangerous. Her scent, her presence, her very being wrapped around me like a curse I welcomed. I knew what this meant. But I refused to let my thoughts drift into those treacherous places—not yet. Not when I had her beneath me, all trembling heat and wild energy. I focused on now, on her, on the fire we were dancing in. Without breaking the kiss, I lifted her—effortless in my hold—and carried her to one of the long-abandoned infirmary beds. I laid her down, her upper body sinking into the mattress while her legs dangled over the edge, open to me, vulnerable and maddeningly tempting. I stood between them, still kissing her like I might lose her if I let go. The air was thick—her scent of sweet arousal saturating everything, wrapping around my senses, driving me closer to the edge of something dangerous. Something primal. And God help me, I didn’t want to stop. She was laid out before me like something holy, something profane—a paradox I was dying to solve. My kisses trailed slowly from her trembling lips to her delicate jawline, lingering at her pulse point, savoring the thrum of life beneath her skin. Her scent clouded my senses, a mix of fear, heat, and something uniquely hers. Down her throat, over the rise of her collarbones—my mouth worshiped what my hands could not hold all at once. Her skin was impossibly warm against my cold lips, each gasp from her a siren’s song echoing through my fractured soul. Her chest rose and fell in shallow rhythm, and I gave each breast equal reverence, reverent and possessive all at once. Her body responded, arching into me, trembling beneath my touch—and gods help me, I needed more. I descended further, over the dip of her belly, where anticipation coiled tight in the air. She squirmed, already breathless, as if her body knew what was coming. The last barrier between us was nothing but flimsy fabric, and with a single movement, I removed it—no hesitation, no mercy. She was already slick with need, and it nearly broke me. Her scent hit me like a drug—dark, heady, impossible to resist. She tried to writhe away from the intensity of it, but I held her steady, letting my hunger consume me. She didn’t scream, but her stifled moans were better than music. She was divine. And I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to stop. My mouth found her with a hunger I hadn’t known I was capable of. She gasped, her entire body tensing, arching under me as I devoured her sweetness, lost in the heady heat of her. She writhed, every movement a desperate plea I drank in like her scent. She tried to twist away from the overwhelming sensation, but I held her still, one hand gripping her thigh with a strength that promised I wasn’t done. I wouldn’t stop—couldn’t stop. Not when she tasted like heaven, sin, and everything in between. When she came undone, her body trembling, lips parted in a silent cry, I didn’t stop. I needed every drop of her, needed to brand myself with her pleasure. The sound of her breathless whimpers echoed in my mind like a sacred song. She was mine now—in body, in blood, in ways even she didn’t yet understand. When she trembled and let go, a fierce, possessive urge seized me. I needed skin against skin—her warmth pressed against my cold, unfeeling flesh. My chest, where my dead heart no longer beat, ached to feel the rise and fall of her body beneath me. In a blur of movement—my vampire speed—my clothes fell away. Within seconds, I was bare, lying atop her, every inch of me hungry for her heat. My lips found hers again, softer now, as if tasting the lingering echo of her climax. She was more than I had ever imagined: softer, warmer, alive in a way that made every breath a revelation. I pressed my body into hers, savoring the contrast—her living warmth against my eternal cold. My hands roamed her curves, mapping every line, every shiver, as if I could memorize her in a single touch. She looked up at me, eyes wide, uncertain, and for a moment, I saw fear—but also something deeper, something like need. A slow smile curved my lips. "You’re mine," I whispered, voice thick with promise. The world outside ceased to exist. There was only her—and me—locked in a moment that felt eternal and terrifyingly alive. The second she trembled beneath me, I knew gentleness wouldn’t suffice. My fangs grazed her collarbone in a sharp reminder of who held the power here. Her gasp echoed in my ears, a delicious mix of fear and need. I shifted, pressing her back against the mattress with deliberate force—no chance of escape. My hips ground into hers, ice-cold flesh against her burning heat. She cried out, and I covered her mouth with one hand, silencing her protest. "Quiet, pet," I growled, my voice low and dangerous. "This is mine." My other hand trailed down her side, gripping her hip, pinning her in place. Every movement was a claim, a statement of dominance. I tasted her panic on my tongue, a heady flavor that made me want more. I nipped at her jaw, then shifted to her neck, leaving a line of bruising kisses along the soft curve. Her fingers clenched in my hair, but I tugged her head back, exposing more skin—mine to command. "Do you feel that?" I whispered, voice rough. "That’s what happens when you belong to me." She tried to twist away, but I caught her wrist, holding it above her head. The cool metal of the bed frame pressed into her palm, her body arched in helpless surrender. My lips descended again, this time to her chest. I traced the rise of her heartbeat, then claimed it with a bite so sharp she shuddered. She trembled under me, every instinct screaming to break free—but she didn’t. Because she knew. She knew she was mine. Her breath came in ragged pants, each exhale a promise. She pressed her legs wider, a silent invitation I couldn’t ignore. My body trembled with the need I’d denied for too long. I leaned down, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss that tasted of heat and want. Her hands wove into my hair, pulling me closer, urging me on. When our mouths finally parted, her eyes shone with desperate need. "Blaze..." she gasped, voice raw and hungry. That single sound sent a jolt through me—enough to shatter every restraint I had left. I shifted, aligning myself with her, and then I moved into her in a single, powerful motion. Her gasp turned into a sharp cry of pleasure as I pressed deeper, every thrust driven by the fierce possessiveness roaring inside me. The world outside this room ceased to exist—there was only the burn of our bodies, the slick heat of our union, and the sound of her name falling from her lips like a sacred chant. She arched into me, legs wrapping around my hips, pulling me closer with each breathless moan. I pounded into her again and again, each movement a fierce declaration: she was mine. Her moans echoed off the walls, a symphony of surrender and bliss, urging me on until we both teetered on the edge. And when we finally tumbled over that line together, it was a release so intense it felt like the world had been reborn in our shared heat. "MATE." The word rang through my mind, a scream from deep within me, ripping through every thought I had. My demons were taking over, their voices loud and demanding. They were in control now. "MATE. MINE." The words spilled from my mouth, not fully my own, but twisted by the force of their grip on me. My body moved on its own, responding to the urge they were driving into me. Fuck. I couldn’t—I couldn’t—have a human as a mate. Not like this. Not with the weight of what I am, of what they are. But my demons didn’t care about what I wanted. They’d already decided.