Wordless: new adult paranormal romance (Age of Blood Book 1)

by May Sage

  He wasn’t sure why he took her down towards the main guest room, given the fact that it should have been occupied by Fay; all he knew was that there was no surprise when they opened the door and found it empty.

  “Fay won’t mind sharing her clothes for now. We’ll sort out the rest later. As for… help,” he said, his tone making clear that he was referring to helping with the state of her pussy, “we’ll try and organize something soon. Excuse me, but I really need some sleep.”

  He left her to it, his legs carrying him to his room as quickly as they could.

  One look around revealed that the room had never been cleaner – he barely recognised it without his mess scattered everywhere. He didn't pay much attention to it as there, right in the middle of his bed, was a little pixie fast asleep under his plush covers.

  William got rid of his pants, discarding the shreds of the shirt his wings had destroyed when they burst out, and joined her there.

  She shifted in her sleep right away, moving to tuck herself against him, as though they’d done it a thousand times before.

  She fit perfectly against him.

  Ten

  There were various reasons why Fay was absolutely positive she wasn’t dreaming.

  First, William was snoring. She was pretty sure the object of her fantasies would have been silent. Secondly, she didn’t have the creativity to imagine something as enticing as his scent; on the jacket she’d borrowed the first day, or his sheets, it had been delightful, but faint. Smelling it on his skin was enough to make her dizzy. But the main reason why she really was certain she wasn’t dreaming was because if she had been, the hard cock trying to break free from his thin boxers would already be deep inside her.

  “I can feel you staring at me,” he grumbled grumpily, without moving anything but his kissable lips.

  How embarrassing. She moved to give him some room in his own bed, wondering if he’d been upset to see her here whenever he’d made it back.

  She was pretty sure his offer to stay up here had been a one-time thing, but after one nightmare free, completely peaceful night, she hadn’t had the heart to go back down to her room.

  She’d spent hours tidying up the entire room and the absolutely disgusting bathroom, too, hoping he’d accept it as a bribe; she had a whole speech worked out. It went along the line of “please, please, please, let me stay, just when you’re away.”

  She’d managed to move one foot away when his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back where she’d been.

  She winced, and immediately, William opened his eyes, focused.

  Seeing the large bandage under her sport bra, he cursed an apology.

  “Shit. I completely forgot.”

  “No worries.”

  “Can I see?”

  She nodded, trying and failing to keep the blushing to a minimum. She wasn’t sure how he’d interpret the fact that she’d gone and tattooed a dragon saving a phoenix on most of her skin.

  Carefully, he pulled the tape off her tattoo, trying to peek at it through a small opening.

  After a minute, he paused.

  “I’ll wrap you up again,” he promised, his voice lower, softer than usual.

  Tenderly, he pulled her on top of him, sitting her against his dick and facing away from him.

  Did he want her to become completely insane? Then, as though everything in the world was just normal, he removed the bandage, taking his time, caressing her skin.

  The air felt cool against her blue, purple, and yellow skin, while the rest of her body might as well have been on fire.

  “Beautiful,” William said, making her tingle all over when his fingers pushed her PJ shorts to see the tip of the phoenix’s tail.

  “Turn this way, little pixie.”

  She swallowed hard, praying that her face wouldn’t betray her, and obeyed.

  He sat up until they were face to face, so close she could feel the air he breathed out.

  “I used to think you weren’t one to talk,” he whispered to her ear. “I was wrong. You came to my bed and you’ve branded me on your skin. That was you saying yes, please.”

  Oh god. His teeth bit her earlobe, sharp, but not enough to draw blood.

  “Who knew the most enticing thing I’d ever heard was silence. There’s nothing but the burn of your skin against mine, and the tantalizing smell of your damn cunt.”

  She gasped when he nuzzled her neck, trailing kisses at its nape.

  “There’s a law about this. A law that say you need to speak and tell me yes right now. I’m going to ignore it, so I want you to remember that this was your choice. Leave now. I won’t stop you. This penthouse is to be your home for as long as you want it to be regardless of whether you walk downstairs or stay by my side until the end of time.”

  Stay, she wanted to say. I want to stay as long as you want me.

  But she couldn’t; he was right. Try as she might, she just couldn’t enunciate what she wanted, so she told him the best she could – wordlessly.

  She didn’t think, just burying her face on his chest, and finding his nipple right in front of her, she bit down softly, and sucked it between her teeth.

  William pulled her from him, holding her at arm’s length and looking at her, shock evident in his feature.

  “You need to understand,” he articulated clearly. “I am as civilized as my kind can be, but bite me, and I’m going to fuck you into next week.”

  Oh.

  She pondered upon the matter, and pushed up on her legs to reach his mouth, pressing her lips against his. He buried his hand through her hair as he deepened their rough, raw, passionate kiss.

  Then, she bit down harder.

  William was desperate. He’d tried very, very hard to remember that his woman was a virgin, and that he ought to take things slow with her. The caveman he’d turned into wanted to thump his chest and grunt mine.

  His, just his.

  He managed to free himself from the beguiling kiss that would end things too quick if he let it linger – for her, rather than him. He would have been satisfied by just throwing her on her back and screwing her until his balls stopped torturing him, but he wanted this night to be hers.

  To give her a taste of her own medicine, he went for her breast, caressing one, enchanted by the firm handful which fitted perfectly in his palm, while his lips captured the nipple of the second one. He relished in her every moan, and the heat of her sex above his drove him to distraction.

  He knew she was already as ready as she could be, it wasn’t about getting her wet. He wanted her to crave him like he did her.

  By the sound of it, she was already halfway there at least.

  “Now, my sweet little pixie, don’t we like it when the tables are turned?”

  She was so responsive, her body already writhing under his touch. Careful to avoid her sore back, he ran his fingers along her skin, driving her mad when they passed from her hips to her thighs without lingering where she wanted him most.

  Not yet.

  “My name is Fay, dammit.”

  She sounded angry, which was hilarious.

  “Of course, pixie.”

  Freeing his cock from his boxers worked wonders: she shut up and gawked at it, probably doing the math and estimating that it might very well split her in two.

  He wasn’t a little boy down there.

  She swallowed and bit her lip. Damn, how fucking sweet could she get?

  “There, baby. Feel me. Get used to me.”

  She wrapped her hand around him and pumped his length once. Shit. He could already feel his balls tightening, dammit.

  Encouraged by his wince, the damn girl plunged on him without warning, and wrapped her delightfully plump lips around the tip of his dick.

  Two minutes. He came in two minutes, as his cock hit the back of her throat. She’d known how to squeeze her mouth around him so perfectly well, reminding him that she’d been trained against her wishes by an asshole who wasn’t even paying for it right no
w.

  That made him mad. He wanted to hit something, which was why he should have stopped what they were doing right away; his recent orgasm would have been the perfect excuse, he could have pretended to need a breather.

  But he needed to remind her – and himself – that she was his.

  “Come here, little pixie. I want to taste you on my tongue right now.”

  She giggled as he pulled her hips to his face, until he showed her that there was nothing humorous about the situation; he pushed the small shorts asides and sucked on her clit until she screamed, dipping his finger inside her, curving it just right and when her breathing started to hitch, he stopped.

  She stopped laughing pretty damn quick.

  “Dammit, William!” she screeched the third time he interrupted an impending orgasm.

  He pushed her hips back on his crotch, before sitting back up, and swallowing her mouth, making her taste her own salty sweetness.

  “Has anyone else ever made you feel this way, Fay Turner? Like you’d do anything to come.”

  He had two fingers inside her, one against her clit, but he knew she wanted more – so did he.

  “No response? Perhaps I should stop, then.”

  “No! Please…”

  “Please what?”

  Oh, her eyes; they were blazing, full of need.

  “Please make me come, William. I need you.”

  “There. Looks like the girl can talk after all.”

  To show her that no good deed went unrewarded, he aligned his cock with her and thrust home in one deep, quick, wet plunge.

  Oh, hell.

  He stilled and breathed in, ignoring the untold hunger that the smell of her blood coaxed, making him desperate to own her in every way.

  He was determined to stay in place until she adjusted to his girth, but she thought it necessary to rock her hips, completely shattering his plan.

  Stupid plan anyway.

  “You feel so damn good, sweetheart,” he sighed against her skin. “So tight. So right. How do you like me inside you?”

  “William!”

  “Yes, me. Take all of me.”

  And damn, that virgin was practically fitting all of his nine inches deep up her fucking amazing pussy, taking more with each thrust, as though she was made just for him.

  Just him. He felt something he’d never thought possible; an unnatural possessiveness that wasn’t just about the ownership of her heart and mind.

  Ours. Our mate.

  He didn’t want to share her. Not now, not ever. Dammit, they could live on rats for all he cared. There would be no man or woman between them.

  Nothing between them.

  “I’m not wearing a condom,” he mused, with a certain amusement.

  He had been cursed, he was sure of it now. The moment he’d been told he was fertile, he’d started wearing weird skin sheaths and ensure his partners were also full of sponges. He hadn’t wanted a child – if memory served, he might have said that never in a million year would he bring an innocent to this screwed up world, yet here he was, unsheathed, screwing his woman and getting off like crazy because they might be making a baby.

  “I have an implant,” she replied, still meeting his hips.

  Of course she did; women with a blood that smelt like that couldn’t afford to have periods on a monthly basis. The dragon in him growled, displeased.

  They’d remove it. Soon.

  Yes. We’ll make a little drake. The dragon was pleased.

  William had never seen it, the only physical glimpse he'd ever been granted had been his large, dark wings but now, in his mind, he visualised the creature quite clearly. Black as night, large and deadly. His drake was fully mature, and it wanted him to coat Fay’s inside with their seed – just as soon as she came around him.

  Feeling that he wouldn’t last long, he turned her around and pushed his hips until she was on her hands and knees.

  She was a wondrous lover, but an inexperienced one nonetheless. That meant he was having a ball – but for her to enjoy it, he needed her to let go and leave him in control.

  Oh god. That ass…

  “Fay, darling?”

  “Mhh?”

  “I apologize in advance. You’re gonna be sore.”

  As it was Saturday, Fay didn’t need to think about school; thankfully, because she would have skipped. Firstly, there was no way she could wobble anywhere without everyone knowing exactly what she’d been up to, but secondly, she had an awful lot of essential things to learn…

  She didn’t think anyone could possibly find a reason compelling enough to cajole her into leaving William’s bed – or his shower. Or his bathtub. Details.

  Eventually, though, he did manage to.

  “Come again.”

  He shrugged.

  “Cece’s downstairs. I’m sure Zeva’s taking good care of her, though.”

  Oh, hell.

  There was no doubt that Zeva was being absolutely amazing, as usual, but Fay should have been there to greet her.

  “Did I miss something?”

  She considered a way to explain, and settled for the truth.

  “We don’t get along,” she admitted. “I was treated well at Vincent’s, all things considered. Cece wasn’t. She antagonized him at every turn – I didn’t. I guess we never understood each other.”

  Fay hadn’t been able to wrap her head around the fact that her cousin wouldn’t stop fighting; why did she yell and try to run, when she knew it only brought her punishments?

  Now Fay got her. If she’d suspected there was a world like the one she now lived in somewhere, she would have run, too. Cece had been stronger than her.

  “Hey. That’s behind you now. All of you.”

  He smiled tentatively, trying to reassure her.

  He didn’t – not really. Because now she recalled her old life, she realized what she’d done for the last few hours.

  She had had one defense, one thing that prevented everyone from taking too much liberty with her, and she’d given it to William. She wasn’t even regretting it.

  But what did it mean for her? What happened now?

  “Hey,” William murmured, pulling her to him until she straddled him; instead of initiating sex, as she thought he might, he just hugged her hard. “What’s worrying you, little pixie?”

  You. She should be worried about Cece, and the future, and Adrian, too, but now – it was him she feared.

  Him, who could break her.

  “Tell me. If I need to bribe, amputate, or kill anyone, consider it done.”

  That managed to make her smile.

  “That’s better. You’re still not getting out of it. I need words, sweetheart. Open your mouth and talk.”

  The teasing was working.

  “Why haven’t you bitten me?”

  That question seemed to puzzle him. Looked at her as though she was being pretty weird – which admittedly, she was – he responded simply, “because you haven’t offered. I thought you wouldn’t want me to.”

  Oh.

  “That’s what’s bothering you?” dropping kisses against her neck, and sucking at her skin.

  She could feel his fangs against her, teasing moans out of her.

  “Speak to me, Fay Turner. There’s something else.”

  She nodded, damning her own honesty.

  “Well?”

  “You’re going to break my heart someday.”

  Today, tomorrow, in twenty years. He’d move on at the first wrinkle, at the latest.

  Somehow, her impending doom made him laugh out loud.

  How the hell was that funny?

  “Sorry. I guess in the midst of planning everything I want to do to you – with you – I forgot to inform you. I’ve already filed an application – I guess it needs your signature.”

  What the heck was he on about?

  “I’m going to marry you. We’ll have a baby – two, perhaps. Then, I’m going to turn you into one of us, so I can keep my little pixie until
the next Ragnarok.”

  Oh.

  Just to emphasis her feelings on the matter, she said it out loud, too.

  “Would that be an ok good kinda oh, or do I need to be persuasive?” William enquired.

  The hug was all well and truly over now; they were back to stroking, nibbling and mhhh… was he parting her ass cheeks?

  “Persuade me, please.”

  Epilogue

  Reality had a way of knocking at the door at the most inopportune time.

  Fay was still walking on a little cloud, despite Cece’s terse conversations at breakfast, and Charlotte’s constant teasing; she even ignored Jessica who smugly announced that she’d been the first to guess that William would choose her. Claim her.

  She was going to be a vampire. A little while back, that would have completely revolted her; now, she understood they were just individuals – there were good people and assholes. When an asshole was in power, it sucked.

  Fay had every intention of being good. Someday, somehow, she’d help William save others like her.

  She was walking back from the Academy, the smile that hadn’t disappeared for weeks plastered on her face, when her world took another turn. For the worse, this time.

  It had been years – almost sixteen of those – but she recognized her, of course. Partially thanks to her few, blurry recollections, and some pictures scattered in her old home, but mainly because she saw parts of her whenever she looked in the mirror.

  Fay might have mostly looked like James Turner, but her eyes and her mouth were Xoe White’s. Her mother’s.

  Jessica, the familiar shadow who never left her side, stiffened next to her when she took in the woman walking up from the other side of the street. Fay wondered why. Xoe was hardly threatening, smaller than Fay, and definitely human.

  Fay had her reasons for freaking out, though. She was pretty damn sure that that woman was supposed to be dead.

  She’d stopped walking, staring as her mother walked up to her.

  The woman should be in her forties now; she didn’t look it. Hell, she didn’t seem one day older than Fay.

  “What do you want, witch,” Jessica snapped next to her.