The breaths are coming faster, the heartbeats frantically almost bursting the vessels in the chest. Footsteps echo down the empty hallway, and then the main door to the chapel bursts open.
In a flash, I dart behind the confession booth. The scent hits my nostrils first, then my canines extend.
She’s here. Dakota’s here.
Dakota is a haphazard mess. The top two buttons on her blouse are undone, her skirt is on backward, and she has a crazy look in her gaze. She heads straight for the confession booth and climbs inside, slamming the door shut.
I wince, pulling back. Her heart is still beating frantically and I cannot tell by breaths or beats alone if she’s in trouble or in need of comfort. Or both.
I step closer, swallowing hard. Being around her now is a terrible idea.
Indeed. Very terrible.
However, I cannot help but to step closer and listen to her quaking breaths. To the sound of her pounding heart. And then her scent hits me.
I suck little air between my clenched teeth, the tips of my canines are jagging against my puckered mouth.
A terrible idea. Extremely terrible. I must resist this temptation.
My arms brace my body against the door of the confession booth. Dakota’s words are rapid, her mouth forming sentences that sends desire pulsating in places it shouldn’t. Not here in this sanctified place.
“Forgive me, for I have sinned.” Dakota’s raspy voice comes out as a beg, a plead, and all I can picture behind closed eyelids is her saying those words against my stiff cock.
Shit.
No longer am I able to withhold myself from her, my body snaps into action, and I nearly take the door off the hinges. Dakota lets out a gasp of surprise, her eyes snapping to mine. She’s on her knees, the uniform skirt half risen on her creamy thighs, and the smell permeating the air is anythingbutinnocent.
It is not just her blood that calls to me, but her body needs me as much as I do her. Before she can utter another word, my hands are grasping her by the shoulders and her head jerks forward a little when I have her pinned against the wall of the confession booth.
Dakota’s heart is hammering and her body is coiled tense beneath my hands. I lean forward, pressing a hot kiss against the column of her exposed throat. Her knees quake as I am pretty sure to be the only thing holding her upright. “I cannot…I cannot stop.”
One of her hands reaches up to cup my jaw and I pull back to stare down at her. “Then don’t.”
The sound of her blood is the only thing I hear. Almost as if her words don’t register with me until I’m already tearing her blouse to ribbons, the buttons scattering across the floor. Thegasp she makes is silent with the hunger of my mouth and I press the full length of my body between her and the wall, leaving little to no room for escape.
I trail kisses across her face and down to her throat. My canines scrape against the soft flesh and she makes a hiss of pain and the blood soothes the thirst that had been causing my throat to swell with desperate need.
“I’ve been waiting so patiently,” I muse and slowly pull back to drop to my knees before her. Dakota’s chest rises and falls rapidly, her white lacy bra showcases her taut nipples on display. My tongue darts across my lips as I devour her with my eyes alone. “Tell me to stop.”
Slowly, I reach out to trace a creamy thigh, and her entire body trembles. A fingertip traces the veins along the inside of her thigh, my nail gently testing the soft flesh. My gaze flickers to her when she inhales a sharp breath the closer my hand gets higher beneath the skirt.
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask her in a low voice.
Dakota gives a sharp shake of her head.
A smile curves my lips.
I shouldn’t want this, we shouldn’t be doing this in a chapel of all places, but I cannot stop. She is my Blood Bond, and I’d been a patient man long enough.
The tips of my index finger touch the edge of silk. Her mouth parts a little and now I am glad to be able to watch her face in the shrouded darkness of the confession booth. My thumb traces across the fabric of her panties and I swear my pupils dilate further, my cock growing harder at the feel of how already wet she is.
I wait the span of a breath, of a heartbeat, before a finger dangerously slips beneath the silk and in between the wet folds. Dakota gasps, her hips immediately rocking against my hand as I slide a thumb across her clit, eliciting a soft moan.
“This is better than the dream state,” I say in a low voice, my hand slipping out to lick the juice from my finger, keeping eye contact with her as I do it. “You taste divine.”
Leaning forward, I grab her left leg and hoist it over my shoulder. Dakota makes a soft protest, until I’m darting my head beneath her skirt and shred her panties with my teeth. Her hands find purchase in my hair, clinging to me like a second layer of clothes as I devour her wet folds with my tongue.
Her back pressed against the wall, her body suspended in the air as I lick, suck, and take all that she has to offer. Now that I’ve finally tasted Dakota, there’s no truly going back.