I shrugged and pressed my cheek against his chest. “If you feel possessive over my blood this might cause quite a few problems in the future. Unless you get a medical education and treat me yourself.” I bit my lip. I was teasing him now, but I couldn’t resist.
“If that’s what it takes,” he murmured, then his voice became harder and lower. “But I’ll make sure that you won’t ever suffer a wound, not even a fucking papercut.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he pressed his finger against my lips. “I don’t want to know the statistics or any facts.”
“Okay,” I whispered against his skin then kissed his finger. I closed my eyes and breathed in his comforting scent.
Flames reflected on cold steel. Agony ripped through me and a scream tore from deep within my body.
“Greta.”
I jerked upright, blinking into the darkness. I pressed my hands against my belly, feeling for a knife handle, but I touched bare skin. My breathing rattled in my chest. The lights came on then dimmed down and Amo’s face came into view. He wrapped a strong arm around me and cradled me against his side. His lips brushed my temple. “I wish I could protect you from your nightmares. I wish I wasn’t the reason why you have them in the first place.”
I touched his hand. “Amo, my actions are as much responsible as yours if you really want to put blame on someone. We agreed to let the past rest. Eventually the nightmares will stop. They always do.”
After Greta woke from her nightmare in the early morning hours, I didn’t fall back asleep, but she slept until our alarm rang. Traditions didn’t even allow newlyweds to sleep in. You couldn’t expect the relatives to wait until lunch to see the sheets after all.
I untangled myself carefully from Greta who hadn’t heard the alarm and slid my legs out of bed. With a last look at Greta’s sleeping form, I headed into the bathroom. I took a quick shower to get rid of the blood on my cock and to clear my head from my dark thoughts that had followed Greta’s nightmare.
I was glad Nevio had killed Cressida. Maybe I would have held back because she was a woman. I doubted Nevio had had these qualms.
I was rubbing my body dry when Greta appeared in the doorway, dressed in a fluffy white bathrobe that seemed to swallow her small frame. She gave me a sleepy smile and tiptoed toward me, wincing on occasion.
“Are you sore?”
She gave a nod. Then her gaze traveled along my naked body. “I wish I wasn’t.”
I grinned and hoisted her on the washstand. I got down on one knee. “Show me.” My voice was rough and low.
Greta’s brows rose a fraction but she parted her bathrobe. I touched her knees and pushed them apart. Blood had dried on the insides of Greta’s thighs and her pussy lips, which were still swollen and so was her entrance.
Seeing the proof of last night, knowing I’d finally made Greta mine in the last way that had been missing, I released a harsh breath.
“It’s not that bad anymore.”
I nodded.
“I need to get cleaned up.” She was about to close her legs but I touched the insides of her knees and locked gazes with her. “Let me.”
Greta licked her lips. “Really?”
“Hmm,” I ran my nose over the soft skin of her inner thigh. The metallic tang of blood mixed with the sweetness of Greta’s arousal and my very own scent. Even her pussy smelled of me. A guttural groan left me.
It was a primal need, to taste her now, like this, her pussy still swollen and bloody from my cock’s claiming last night.
Greta touched my head lightly, almost shyly but I could feel her searching gaze on me.
I cast my eyes up when I opened my mouth and ran my tongue along the trace of dried blood from the curve of her ass to her clit. “You taste like mine.”
Her fingers tightened in my hair when I slipped my tongue between her pussy lips, thoroughly tasting her. Soon the metallic tang was replaced by the warmer, muskier aroma of her lust which coated my lips and tongue.
I couldn’t resist. I pressed my tongue firmly against her sore opening. Her body resisted the pressure, but I needed more. Tilting my head and opening my mouth wider, I increased the pressure until the tip of my tongue finally forced Greta’s pussy to surrender. Her walls closed around my tongue and the taste of her—sweet, musky, tangy, metallic—bloomed heavily in my mouth. I greedily soaked it up as I fucked her with my tongue. She was tense at first. The primal need to claim her again was too strong to allow me to stop.
I held Greta’s gaze, telling her with my eyes that she was mine as my tongue parted her swollen opening again and again. “Amo,” she whimpered. A little pain and plenty of lust.