Her scent was driving him crazy. He forced himself to go slow – slower than he wanted to. It'd been too long since he’d been this close to her - close enough to touch her, kiss her and f**k her. He was starving for her – literally. He bit into her thigh, sinking his fangs deeper than he normally would have. But it was her – he knew she could take it. He’d trained her to take him in his widest moments. That was one of the things he regretted doing before he knew that she was his bride – the fact that he trained her to be a slave for his touch. To turn her fear into something intoxicating and portent for them both to enjoy in those bright hours of the day when the sun was up in the sky and the nest was quiet.
He started playing with her p***y – fingering her until she was trembling beneath
