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Soul Reaper
Out Now from
“How do I taste?”
“Good.” I ran my tongue over his lips. He opened them for me as he slipped out of his jeans all the way. My tongue moved against his teeth as they lengthened. I caressed them, running my tongue over the tips, remembering the pain of them in my throat and how good it felt when he sucked. My insides grew hot as my whole body ached for him. I shoved him down on the bed, exploring his body with my hands, loving how it contrasted against the burning heat of my own. My lips found his neck and began to bite, my tongue licked up and down his jugular vein, and I craved to be able to bite and take his blood. As that desire spread through me, I felt a shifting in my mouth. My teeth ached and pressed through my gums as they grew, but just a little, getting baby points. They scraped along Julien’s throat. He jumped, pushing me away and I smiled, showing him my infant fangs.
“Soon you’ll be completely mine. My one and only true child. Does that frighten you to be truly awakened?”
Why would I be scared to be with him? He had shown me a reality I’d never dreamed about. I wanted to believe that was why I had been so terrified of my dream for so many years, that I denied the part of myself that craved blood. If I had known it was going to be like this, then I would have indulged in it long ago. Brenna had been wrong. She may have had encounters with vampires, but she knew nothing of the ecstasy I felt right at this moment, listening to his heart beating faintly in my ears, hearing mice scurrying down the hall, smelling the dank, and rot, and the mold as it grew along the walls, just being alive. This was what I was meant to do. To become. This was what I wanted. As I thought about it, the other part of me awakened, but decided not to merge with me, just to observe, looking out through my eyes as if it were a tourist.
“No. It’s what I want.”
“Good.”
His lips curled as he pulled me down on top of him. His lips were hungry, seeking out every exposed piece of my flesh. His nails dug into my back, and everything about me wanted him. He must have sensed this because he rolled me over and then was on top of me, kissing me, running his tongue over my teeth. Obsessed hands groped my tits, massaging them, pinching the nipples between his thumb and forefingers hard enough to leave snowflake bruises. Sharp nails cut into my chest as his tongue shifted, growing long as he smashed his mouth into mine. I moved my hands along his back, feeling the skin moving, the muscles underneath were bunching, as were the bones. It happened all over his body as his joints snapped like broken chicken wings.
